#when i see Haechan and cry

[rikupid]

seeing dream in a little over a week…. u guys don’t understand how excited i am

[tddyhyck]

sudden urges [ l.dh ]

pt 1 (can be read as a stand alone)

pairing ⇢ enemies with benefits!haechan x afab!reader

warnings ⇢ 18+, car sex, squirting, wet & messy, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral (m receiving), light nipple play (kinda), food play (ig), unprotected sex, oppa kink, crying, mean names and pet names, pussy slapping, hair pulling, cheating/affairs mentioned, creepy old man mentioned

word count ⇢ 6.9k

playlist ⇢ red line_5sos / turn your phone off_pinkpantheress & destroy lonely / sweet as sin_ten / bite_troye sivan

a/n ⇢ how do we feel about 1 more regular part and then maybe a part from hyuck’s pov?? also, in my world hyuck is the readers oppa so it’s not really a kink all the time

masterlist

you didn’t want to call him but you didn’t really have anyone else who you could call. well you did but he was the first person you felt like talking to. which wasn’t how it was supposed to work. shivering on the curb while your finger hovered over his name on the screen. sighing you tapped it crossing your fingers and toes that he picked up.

“hey,” he whispered lazily as if he didn’t pick up halfway through the first ring.

“uh hey,” you poked at a hole in your tights.

“miss me?”

“can you come get me?” you blurted before he could even finish. the line was silent for a moment then you heard rustling.

“send me your location.” you breathed a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing as you pulled the phone away to send a quick message. the line was still silent while you waited for it to say read.

“what are you doing over there?” you could practically see his face, eyebrow quirked up and jaw tense big brown eyes staring through you.

“just had to drop some papers off.” it was half true. you did ride the bus over and drop off a stack of papers to your professor.

“that’s all?”

“stop interrogating me, goddd,” you groaned, tugging the hole on your tights, ripping it more. “i’ll tell you when i see you.”

“i’ll be there in 5 i guess.” you heard keys jingle.

“i’m on the sidewalk near building F,” you offered.

“he just made you wait outside? what an ass can’t even drive you home and leaves you to sit outside in the snow?” haechan grumbled into the phone.

“he uh,” you pause realizing how bad it was about to sound.

“wife?” he simply asked. you’d only talked to haechan before about it mainly because he always pried and because you didn’t want lectures from everyone else. there wasn’t a desire to make him like you so you didn’t hide the bad things from him.

the professor was married and you knew that from the beginning, but he had swore they were separated. you believed him until his wife invited half the department to a dinner party where she flashed heart eyes and he doted on her. it made you sick, she was maybe a few years older than you while he pushed retirement.

it wasn’t that you felt obligated to agree when he asked but he was the one giving you credit hours and promising to write recommendations. when he first approached you it made you feel special and admired like you were a four leaf clover picked in a field. now it didn’t feel so special when you realized he did this all the time.

“unhuh,” you murmured. the line stayed silent and you could hear him turning on a blinker “thanks for coming. i didn’t want to bother anyone, they're all so stressed and losing their minds over that exam.” it wasn’t a lie they were prepping for an exam, but for some reason you wanted him to distract you with banter.

“i took the bus though you know, and brought like the biggest stack of papers i finally finished grading. but it stopped running- the bus, guess it was the weather.” you tried to fill the silence rambling on about nothing.

“didn’t think i would take so long, but i had to bring them by i dunno why he makes me. it’s so much easier to just file them away in the office but he always has me come by so he can check them. like i’m incompetent. i wrote the key so i would know.”

“because he wants to fuck you.” haechan mumbles.

“huh?” you ask.

“i’m here.” he pulls into the parking lot and hangs up. you shiver when you stand up before he pulls up in front of you. opening the door you slide in savoring the warmth.

“what did you say?” you question before putting your bag down.

“i said he wants to fuck you. that’s why he makes you bring some bullshit papers.” he rests his elbow on the window leaning his head on his hand looking at you lazily. he turns the heat up while you buckle your seatbelt.

“i know that but he won’t give me the credit unless i bring them by,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

“that’s so fucked up. you should report him.” he eases off the brake pulling away from the sidewalk.

“it’s not a big deal.” you sigh still picking at the hole on your leg. “it’s just sex.”

“is he better than me? actually if he is don’t tell me,” you roll your eyes hitting his chest.

“shut up,” you shift in your seat.

“well is he?” he smirks, coming to a stop, looking over at you, hands low on the steering wheel. you shrug but he can read the answer on your face. he reaches over, snapping his fingers in your face and pointing to his own.

“i asked you if he fucks you better than me,” he emphasizes.

“no,” you mumble, looking away again. you know he’s smiling to himself gloating.

“where do you wanna go? are you hungry?” you shrug in response, cheeks pink from your admission. “ice cream?”

“can we eat it at the park?” you ask perking up at the thought of a cool and creamy sweet treat.

“of course.” he turns the wheel heading to your favorite ice cream spot. “can’t believe you want that when it’s like, negative degrees.”

“my love for ice cream is greater than my desire to be warm. plus we’re in a car you have heat we’re fine.”

“can’t believe he made you sit out in this,” he motions with a hand to the sky. grey and dreary, clouds full of snow and sleet that had been spilling periodically throughout the day.

“she would have seen me.”

“well he should have thought of that before asking you to come over. what if you get sick or hurt or someone snatchesd you. then who will grade his papers?” you roll your eyes at his dramatics. he pulls into the familiar parking lot, the neon sign bright but missing the i-c-e so it just says “homemade cream.” he pulls in behind a car already waiting at the window.

“probably some other pretty but stupid girl. it doesn’t matter i’m fine and you picked me up.” you grin nudging his shoulder. “did i wake you up?”

“well not exactly i was going to nap but then my phone rang and this hot girl was on the line all like ‘oppaaaaa please can you come get me from this evil villains house and take me for ice cream and can you pay for it pleaseee ooooppa.’” you gawk at him mimicking your voice quite well for what it’s worth.

“i do not sound like that,” you groan, hitting him again.

“you kinda do though,” he grins, releasing your wrist.

“so you think i’m hot?” you smirk teasingly lean close to him.

“no i just hang out with you because of your personality,” you hit him again, but he grabs your hand when it meets his chest. you rip away before he can interlace your fingers.

“if you keep hitting me i’m gonna hit you back and that would look bad to future employers.” he turns away as you smile, listening to him give the order. strawberry on a cone for you as always and a hot coffee for him. when the worker leaves you lean forward chin on his shoulder.

“i like it when you hit me sometimes,” you whisper. you swear you can feel the hair on his neck stand up. “you know down there.”

“shut up,” he nudges you away before the worker brings his card and receipt then leaves again to make the order.

“just being honest, oppa,” popping the p sound before running fingers over his knee. he jerks, bouncing the leg and brushing your hand away. you huff, air blowing on his ear making him shiver. the window opens and he grabs your ice cream, passing it to you before he grabs his drink with a thank you.

“mmmm,” you moan when you taste the ice cream. sweet and creamy and perfect.

“look at the sign,” pointing to the burnt neon with a grin.

“you know a thing or two about homemade cream,” grinning he taps your leg.

“and you know a thing or two about begging for it.” you smile to yourself, leaning back in the seat crossing your legs.

“begging seems dramatic doesn’t it?” he questions. you grab your phone ready to find the familiar voice memo he had sent you. you up your volume fully before pressing play.

‘heyyyyy, i’m like so fucked up right now,’ he tries to grab your phone as his voice plays from it. ‘i’m walking to your place at least i think i am. fuckk- are you even awake. i’ll sit outside, i don't care.’

“turn it off, oh my god,” he groans, one hand clenching on the wheel while the other presses against his ear..

“nuhuh.”

‘i had a dream about you. i think it was a dream i don’t know. um, wait but there was you, you were there and you finally rode my tongue. i want you to so bad. you’re too freaky to not ride my face at least once. do i need to beg on my knees for it?’

“you’re evil,” wincing as he hears his slurred voice playing back.

‘if i do will you? please. you taste so good and fuck - like so good. now i’m thinking about it. getting hard like a loser over thinking about pussy.’

“i sound so pathetic.”

“yeah you do. it’s hot.” grinning before taking another swipe at your ice cream.

‘shit - anyways uh i’m coming over i know you’re alone. at least i think you are… what if you have a guy in your bed. i’ll jump out of your window then when you look at him you’ll get sad. that’s fucked up but i want you alllll to myself sometimes.’

you turn the audio off before he starts professing his feelings. you’d never talked about the last few minutes of the voicemail. a quiet acknowledgment of the open secret between you both. you weren’t actually sure if he remembered all that he said.

that night you’d opened the door to him on his knees begging for you, but he fell asleep on your couch 10 minutes later with a silly look on his face.

“i still want you to ride my face,” he admits.

“you’re obsessed with eating pussy.” you laugh into your ice cream.

“is it such a crime to love your pussy?” raising his hands after parking in your usual spot turning the car off.

“we’d all be arrested if it was.”

“we can share handcuffs.” he offered a wrist to you and you held yours next to his.

“not the first time,” you tease as you pull away. you tug the lever beside you leaning your seat all the way back and kick your feet up on the dash.

“hey hey no shoes on my baby i just got her detailed,” he scolds grabbing your ankles and lugging you off. groaning, you lift your feet and rest them over his lap.

“yeah i didn’t care about these sweats anyways,” he deadpans looking at your shoes.

“they’re not muddy,” you say, pulling your legs away before reaching down to pull the shoes off. you put your now shoeless feet on his lap again and he doesn’t complain. silence settles for a moment aside for him sipping his coffee and you licking your ice cream contentedly.

“how long are you stuck grading his papers?”

“eh maybe two months. i hope he gets sick of me before then.”

“unlikely.” he mutters to himself, reaching up he fiddles with the sunroof, opening the shutter letting in the orange glow of the street light.

“do you think his wife knows?” he turns his head at your question. “she’s got to right? he probably did the same thing to her too.”

“do you want her to know?” the ice cream is melting too quickly.

“maybe. i don’t know. what’s better? it would be best if they were in an open relationship and she knew but was okay with it.”

“well that’s best case,” he leans his own seat back looking over at you at eye level.

“worst case?”

“she knows and hates you?” he suggests, making you groan.

“she’s so sweet too. fuck, i’m so terrible.” you close your eyes not wanting to look at his.

“he’s a manipulative geriatric asshole and you were vulnerable and naive. he’s terrible for taking advantage of all these girls.” he reassures, patting your arm softly. a weird moment of humanity between both of you.

“i’m not going over again.” you announce.

“good girl,” he pats your head now.

“don’t do that.”

“what?”

“be nice.” he laughs a real full belly laugh and it makes your stomach twinge weirdly.

“i’m soooo nice.” he looks up out of the car sunroof.

“yeah and i'm a worm,” you roll your eyes and his hand slides over your leg he laughs again

“you think i'm mean,” he pouts, poking your leg.

“name one time you were nice to me?”

“hmm,” he pauses a finger tapping his chin before he leans over cupping your ear to whisper. “what about the time i made you cu-“

“lalalala i can’t hear you,” you cut him off, pushing his face away.

“you need new tights,” still smiling as he prods at one of the holes in the sheer material covering your skin.

“you don’t think it gives me an edge?” lifting your leg slightly showing off the ripped black fabric.

“you don’t need an edge, you're mean enough.” you fein surprise trying to kick him but he grabs your leg before you can. squeezing your thigh when he pulls it against his warm body.

“you think i’m mean?” you copy him.

“i can name at least 100 instances.” you roll your eyes. “ok, just one?” he grins over at you before saying.”probably when we met and you called me the hunchback of notre dame.”

“but it made you work on your posture.” you point out. he nods in response. “you were just as mean, i only said that after you said i looked like helga from hey arnold.”

“you were wearing that same pink outfit,” he defends.

“i was a powerpuff girl,” you grumble.

“how’s the ice cream?”

“devine.” he’s looking over at you with big stupid brown eyes. staring back at him you lick over the remaining creamy treat. swirling over the cone collecting the pink cream on your tongue. you’re being overly provocative letting some of the ice cream slide out of your mouth and onto your lips.

“if it’s so good don’t let it go to waste.” thumb brushes over the drip, swiping it into your mouth. you don’t hesitate to suck the melted strawberry off of his finger moaning at the taste. he pulls away spit sticking to his thumb before he licks it. he’s so disgustingly gross and sexy it’s annoying. what light that shines from the sunroof makes him look too golden, too delicious, too warm.

“so sweet,” he sighs. big brown eyes still watching you when you wrap your lips around what’s now a sad hill instead of a full scoop.

“can i have some?” before you can answer he leans in grabbing your face pulling you to meet him. his tongue laps into your mouth collecting the cool sweet liquid. it makes you burn, hot cheek in his hand as he leads you. turning your head to deepen the kiss. the melting treat drips over your fingers as his lips melt into yours.

using the hand that is still on your leg, now gripping the flesh, he pulls you over. settling you on top of him, mouths still open exchanging hot breaths and spit. pulling away you sit back feeling the bulge pressed against you. catching your breath as you look down at him, lips red and puffy, eyes dazed. you press a finger to them to see how soft they are and he licks your digit.

“do you want some more?” moving to switch your hands. bringing the pink sticky fingers to his lips. he sucks them greedily, tongue splitting your fingers licking between them lewdly. watching as you grind against him, knees pressed tightly on his sides while he holds your hips. trailing your fingers from his mouth you slide them over his lips and down his chin. slippery still from his spit you move them finger painting his neck.

“did you fuck him?” it catches you off guard but you keep your fingers on his neck feeling his pulse under them. “like today did you?”

“no. he-“ you pause, deciding if you should share. “he came in his pants and then his wife called.” haechan laughs hard, making you shake on him.

“what a fucking loser.”

“why do you ask?” you bring the messy cone to your mouth again tasting what’s left.

“i don’t want to sound weird.”

“tell me,” you pout bouncing on him. he groans, squeezing your hips to stop you. you can feel his growing hardness against your inner thigh and it makes you clench.

“is it jealous if i say i don’t want to fuck you if he just did. i don’t want my dick near his.” he offers.

“who said we were going to fuck?” raising an eyebrow at him.

“please, mommy,” he whimpers, sitting up face in yours, clasping his hands making puppy dog eyes.

“stupid,” you mumble, pushing his face away, head hitting the seat with a thud.

“can i be honest?” he nods eagerly, hair bouncing against the headrest.

“i don’t even know the last time we did. he keeps nutting before i even get his pants off. plus it’s kinda small, no hate to the micros but like,” you pause using your finger to measure around 4 inches.

“it’s not doing anything.” he’s giggling under you again, this time his cock pressing against you with each shake of his body. you can feel the wetness slipping from you pooling in your tights.

“god, how can a guy like him be married and seduce beautiful young women while having a fast finishing micro. double homicide but he gets rewards.” he shakes his head.

“money,” you rub your fingers together.

“so i’m bigger?”

“obviously.” you roll your eyes finishing the last of your ice cream at least what hasn’t turned to soup.

“so let’s see.” you lean back putting the cone in the spare cup holder. he peaks under your skirt noticing your lack of panties.

“see what?” you watch him stare between your legs so you flip the skirt up for him. “this?”

“don’t distract me.” he closes his eyes, pressing his head back. “i can fuck you better, have a way bigger dick, and buy you ice cream.” he counts each “pro” on his fingers.

“what’s your point?” reaching for his lifted fingers you pull them to your core rubbing them over your tights.

“just that.” he pauses moving his fingers against you letting the seam of your tights brush against you cunt. “i’m a much better option.”

“like to date?” you laugh loudly but continue grinding down seeking more of his touch. you don’t catch the way his eyes dull at your reaction. the idea of him being more than whatever he was to you a joke. he could still dream and dwell on you for hours and days and weeks.

“ew no, just to do these activities,” he replies his other hand slithering over your ass.

“yeah we hate each other, remember?” you smirk down at him as he grabs your ass kneading the flesh.

“oh yeah sorry. don’t let me forget how much i despise you.” he groans pressing the tips of his digits against the tights. moaning when the seam catches against your clit again, you grind down.

“wouldn’t be so fun if we liked each other, or something.” breath catching in your throat as he swirls around your clit. you don’t see the way he looks up at you when you say that. he wonders if you can tell. it makes him mad the way your so oblivious to his affection for you.

“yeah people who like each other don’t do this.” he moves his other hand to your center, gripping the tights and yanking. the middle seam tears easily exposing your cunt to the cool air of the car.

“haechan,” you squeal. “i liked these.” you pout slapping his arm. he keeps going sliding his fingers between your lower lips, collecting slick.

“i told you.” he pauses a finger teasing over your entrance, tapping your waiting hole. “you need new ones.” he fucks a digit into you hard. you whine as he begins to flick his wrist curling the pad of his middle finger into you.

“but i liked these,” whining and digging your nails into his shoulders.

“you can keep them.” his fingers are fast moving to curl against your sweet spot. “wear them for me.”

“i hate you,” voice shaky as you grind down, his palm pressing against your clit.

“i know,” he leans up, lips ghosting over your neck. using his other hand he unzips your oversized hoodie making you shiver.

“i do. fucking hate you,” you moan when he bites your now exposed skin. you grab his hair in response, tugging him away.

“tell me all about it baby, let it out,” he looks up at you. finger working faster in you.

“hate when you look at me like that,” you whimper, closing your eyes, savoring the ghost of his thumb over your clit.

“what about this?” thumb rubbing circles around you swollen bud while his finger continues curling inside of you. grip tightening on his shoulder and in his hair with a gasp.

“hate it,” peeking down watching his wrist flicking fast and hard. your tummy tightens hearing the squelch of your cunt filling the car.

“and this?” he has that grin on his face watching you melt in his hands like your ice cream when he adds a second finger.

“so much,” you whimper. “hate it so much.”

“poor baby. let it out,” he licks over your neck nibbling lightly at the bare skin. the heat spreading over your tummy feeling the knot tightening. so close and you want it.

“hate me so much you’re gonna cum?” he tuts. you hate him you really do. his hand slithers pulling the top of your camisole down letting your breast spill out. squeezing the flesh before pinching your nipple. clenching around his fingers at the tug of his pointer and thumb on the hard nub.

“you think about me when you’re alone, don't you?” he questions, thumbing your nipple and clit at the same time, sending shockwaves through you. “gushing in your panties when you think about how much you hate your oppa?”

“fingering your cunt wishing it was me?” his words make your toes curl more than his fingers. you’d never admit it to him, your mind trailing to him when you can’t sleep. opening yourself up imagining he was there telling you dirty things. your vibrator is fine but he’s so much better.

“or do you hump your pillow thinking about me? it’s not as good is it?” you shake your head mouth opened gasping.

“leaves you wanting more? wanting your oppa’s cock to help you.” his words pull you closer. you bounce on his hand chasing the release.

“moaning for your oppa all alone.” leaving open mouth kisses along your neck when he whispers, “gonna let it out for your oppa?”

“hate you,” releasing onto his fingers with a whine cunt tightening around them. your fingers tug at his hair and he moans into your neck slowing his hand but still slowly pumping into you. thumb still swirling around your nipple when you look down watching the slow flick of his wrist and see the wet spot on his sweats.

“don’t tell me you came in your pants too?” you tease, breathily.

“all you, sweet cheeks,” pulling his fingers out sticky string connecting to your pussy as more slick dribbles out onto the grey material. he brings them to his lips savoring your taste on his tongue. his other hand falls from your chest settling on your tummy rubbing circles with his thumb. your tit still hanging out as you release the grip you had on him your fingers quickly find his waistband. pulling down the fabric you release his cock.

“no panties?” looking up at him grinning as he leans back head resting on his arms.

“i was trying to be fast.” you take his cock in your hands pumping the length. pushing your ass back to bend down and take him in your mouth. he hisses between his teeth when you wrap your lips around his tip. bobbing your head he reaches down to brush your hair out of your face. you pull back releasing him before spitting messily onto his cock.

“fuck,” he groans as your hand speeds up using your spit and his precum to glide over his length. you look up at him through your lashes watching him bite his lip. he stares back at you, before taking him back in your mouth, sucking him slowly.

“you’re so fucking hot,” gripping your hair with his voice raspy. “i hate you too,” his hips buck when you laugh, mouth vibrating around him. continuing you bob your head letting his cock bump the back of your throat when your nose touches his pelvis. you linger swallowing around him.

“fuck fuck fuck,” he groans, using your hair to pull you away. releasing his cock with spit dripping out of your mouth onto his pants. his chest heaves your hand lazily pumping his length. you wipe your mouth before sitting back up. you wiggle forward on him sitting so your cunt presses against his member.

“do you have condoms,” you turn rummaging in the glove box.

“maybe,” he mumbles, watching the way the head of his cock disappears between your folds.

“bro,” you lift a pair of your panties from the box.

“oh yeah you left those,” he says nonchalantly, holding your hips dragging you over his cock. rolling your eyes, continuing to look, attempting to ignore the hardness bumping your sensitive clit, searching for a foil packet but only finding ketchup.

“can we just do it raw?” you side eye him contemplating. “i’ll pull out.”

“it’s gonna be messy.” you sigh, shutting the compartment.

“you like it that way,” his eyes are staring between you. you're grinding on him without his help so he moves his hand to spread your pussy watching the slick coat his member. a mischievous look on his face when he tugs at the ripped tights opening them more.

“hey,” you shriek, slapping his hand. he doesn’t flinch, hands laying across your thighs as he moves his thumb to lift the head of his cock against your clit, groaning at the pressure. you keep your pace hips rocking back and forth. you grip the hem of his shirt pushing it up on his chest.

“shit,” he whimpers, precum pumping from the slit as he grabs your hips to stop you.

“up,” you lift yourself shimmying forward. he holds himself guiding to your entrance and lifting his own hips while you slide down. you groan in unison when you sit fully. you don’t move for a second savoring the fill of his cock. but his impatient hips jump, jostling you over him, making you double over.

“fuck,” you whimper leaning over him hands under his shirt, your hair falling in his face. you push against him, nails digging into his skin and start riding him. ass slapping against his grey sweatpants any sound muted by the fabric. the head of his cock bumping your sweet spot with every bounce.

he reaches around gripping your ass using what’s left of your tights to move you up and down faster, deeper. moans fill the car along with ripping fabric beside the building steam.

“so deep,” you whine. he leans up, hips meeting yours, face now only centimeters away. you shriek when his hand slaps against your ass.

“like it when i hit you down there,” he repeats your stupid comment from earlier has him hitting your skin again. he grips your tights pulling you up and down on him.

“i meant,” you lean away pushing on his chest for leverage with one hand the other going to your clit. “here.” you wince slapping softly over your sensitive bud.

“let me try again,” his hair falls in his face and he leans into you. his mouth latching onto your nipple and slapping your clit harshly. you shake overwhelmed by the suction on your chest, repeated hits to your g-spot, and slick fingers thrumming your clit.

“there?” he asks, releasing your nipple while still tonguing the bud. you nod furiously, tears building in your eyes overwhelmed.

“aww don’t cry little doll,” he teases using his teeth to pull the other side of your top down before sucking the nipple into his mouth.

“so much,” you whimper, hands threading in his hair roughly.

“thought that was how you hated me?” his breath is so hot like the tears you feel on your cheeks. he continues pounding into you, hips driving deeper with each thrust.

“yeah,” you can’t form a thought just his hands, and his tongue, and his fingers, and his cock, his dick, him, him, him.

“cat got your tongue,” tugging your bottom lip. you mumble nothing but everything at the same time feeling yourself come undone slowly but all at once. whining again when his tongue laps at your nipple. his fingers swirl quickly on your clit.

“s’ full,” you moan. he slaps your clit again making you shake clenching tightly around him.

“oppa’s cock to much for you?” you shake you head, core tightening as your release approaches faster and faster.

“want it,” you whine, nodding mouth opened spit dribbling down your chin, cock drunk.

“gonna cum because you hate me again?” he grins up at you. you squeeze around him in response, hearing him hiss. speeding up his finger on your clit sending you over the edge.

“oppa,” you whimper, arching into his hold as you cum. hot pleasure fills your body as your hips jerk. pussy pulsing around him but he doesn’t slow down continuously bumping your sweet spot over and over.

“let it out for your oppa,” cooing, he feels the puddle growing on his pants. the pads of his fingers don’t stop causing your release to spray over his lower half.

“oh my god,” you whimper leaning into his shoulder. hips shuddering as he still moves in you.

“you’re so tight,” your cunt still squeezing around him as he slows. heavy breathing into his neck while you come down he slowly ruts into you. finally pulling back looking at the mess you made on him.

“sorry,” you whimper, overstimulated from the fullness.

“it’s fucking hot,” he replies as you push him back to the seat. he looks pretty brown eyes blown wide and staring up at you, his hair sticking to his forehead. you’re determined to have him fill you up. suddenly needy for his hot cum in you. your fingers move the hem of his shirt farther up, pads brushing his nipples making him shiver.

“what are you doing?” you start moving your hips again, swiveling them.

“what does it look like?” you deadpan fingers pinching his nubs. he whines head tipping back with closed eyes.

“cum in me.” you whisper against his stomach. tongue flicking over his sticky skin as you bounce on him. he peers down at you watching you slither up his chest before tonguing his nipple.

“fuck,” he whimpers biting his lip. his hands holding your hips start to pull you up and down on him. quivering from sensitivity with each drag of his cock.

“nuhuh,” you move your hands to stop his. “let me.” you lift your ass up before slapping back down the squelch and slap of skin fills the car. your hands hold his wrists hovering over your skin, but he reaches for you needily.

“wanna fuck you.” you whine flicking his nipple with your tongue. “make you cum.” pausing licking up his chest to his collarbone. “fill me up, oppa,” you whisper into his ear.

he’s keening at every word and every squeeze of your tight cunt around him. pulling back, releasing his hands, using yours to press l against the steamy window for leverage and the other finding your clit.

“feels so good, oppa,” you whine when his cock hits your sweet spot again. he finally moves his hands using his thumbs to spread your pussy watching the sticky connection as his cock disappears in you.

“fuck i’m gonna cum,” he groans as you pull him closer to the edge.

“cum for me oppa,” you whimper fingers circling your clit and nipple.

“love it when oppa fills up my cunt,” hips fucking into you and his head falls back as he pumps hot seed into you with a moan. you keep moving your hips, milking his cock. letting the tip abuse your insides trying to cum again.

“unhuh,” you whine, overstimulating him as his cum starts to slip out of you. it sticks to your inner thighs, strings connecting you.

“shit, stop, fuck,” he grabs your hips stopping your movements.

“i’m so close though,” you whine, fingers still padding against your clit. he pulls you off of him with a groan, cock lazily slapping onto his pelvis. you move your fingers fucking two into your puffy pussy but it’s not enough it never is.

“help me,” you whine and he adds a finger beside yours fucking into your cunt pumping his load back into you. you bounce down meeting creamy digits as he curls them.

“let me show you,” he coos using his finger to push the tips of your own into you making you moan instantly.

“it’s gonna,” you moan out, gripping his wrist. “come out.”

“what happened to that tight little cunt? did oppa fuck you loose?” you whimper and he adds a second finger watching your hole swallow four fingers with ease. the pads of his fingers helping you curl yours, pressing just right. you feel so close just a little more you think rubbing your clit faster and harder.

“fuck i’m,” your hips start to shake. “i’m.” you can’t finish, crying out.

“one more time, for your oppa,” he directs more than asks.

you garble out curses as you cum. squirting onto your hands and his spent cock. your wrist slowing but he keeps going coaxing the streams out of you. you can’t think of anything, your body buzzing and shivering with waves of pleasure. it feels like it’s never going to end each bump of your own fingers inside you makes you spill more.

“no more, can’t,” you mumble, grabbing for him. mind numb and cunt pulsing out small dribbles.

“so greedy,” he tells you, pulling out with you, one final spurt hitting his dick. you lay your hand on his thigh but he slaps your cunt making you cry. his sticky fingers rubbing against you slowly. he feels what’s left of his cum start to pool on his fingers, mixing with all you gave him.

cupping his fingers he scoops it from you making you quiver again. before he can move his hands you grab his wrist pulling his fingers to your mouth slurping the mixture onto your tongue.

“fuck,” he hisses, watching you diligently sucking every drop from him. “so fucking nasty.”

sitting back on his thighs with a huff looking down to inspect the damage. his pants are practically dark grey now and his shirt even has damp spots. your fingers spread your lips so you can peak at your pussy, wet and swollen still slightly pulsing.

“i gotta put some towels or something in here. this is like the fourth time.” you giggle pushing your hair out of your face.

“sorry,” you puff.

“next time i'm just going to open the door and let you make a mess on the pavement.” you roll your eyes but the thought of him holding you up for anyone to watch while you squirt makes you tingle.

“you're so freaky. don’t tell me you want me to,” he reads your mind.

“shut up,” you push him away.

“next time i’ll just bend you over the hood.” you whine legs squeezing his. your both still catching your breath the air in the car hot and muggy. you groan as you slide from his lap into your seat.

“i’m going to have to get her detailed again.” he mutters looking between your legs where the slick rubs on his seat.

“sorry,” you grin. he looks around to see if anyone is outside but it’s empty. he always parks far away from the entrance, behind the permanently closed pool. it’s rare that anyone pulls up near you. he tucks himself in his ruined sweats lifting his hips to pull them up before opening the door. the rush of cool air hits you, making you close your legs quickly.

haechan rummages in the trunk, he did keep towels and a change of clothes. after the first time you made a mess he secretly stockpiled items for you. a sweater here, some pants there, a duplicate of your favorite blanket.

he pulls out one of his sweatshirts, tugging his own shirt off, tossing it in a small basket he put back there. he shivered pulling the clean one on quickly. he grabbed two towels before walking back to the door handing you one.

“i thought you didn’t keep towels in here?” you question grabbing the towel and shifting it under you.

“i’m not known for telling the truth.” he wipes over his seat cleaning up the mess. he walks back to the trunk as you lean your head against the seat, sighing.

he puts the towel on top of his shirt, grabbing wipes and two pairs of sweatpants he closes the trunk with an elbow.

“here,” his voice makes you open your eyes. he’s holding wipes up and you grab them. pulling them out you wipe over his seat, he’s standing outside swiftly pulling off his pants. you look up his ass in your face and you can’t resist slapping it.

“b word,” he shrieks, turning to you, almost falling, he hopes on one leg, tugging the pants over his shoes. his refusal to call you a bitch makes you laugh. he’s so tender.

“hey you can only call me that during sex,” you scold.

“that seems like the last place i should call you that,” he points out, stepping into the sweats.

“but i like it,” you pout, closing the wipes watching him jump into his pants.

“because you,” leaning in before tapping a finger on your nose. “are a freak.” you bite at his finger but he pulls away too quickly grabbing something off the roof.

“here,” he holds your own pants to you.

“i’ve been looking for these,” you groan, ripping them from his hands. “how long have you had these?” he shrugs getting back into his seat. not bothering with your tights you slip your skirt down letting it pool on the floorboard. he sits his seat back up starting the car again and blasting the heat. you pull the pants over your legs enjoying the soft warm fabric.

“why do you have my pants,” you prod poking his side.

“in case you needed them,” he states plainly.

“awww you’re so sweet,” you pinch his cheek. “do you like me or something?”

“gross,” he blurts, side eyeing you. “do you want me to drop you at your place?”

“please,” you respond, scrolling on your phone. the car is quiet except for the heat blowing through the vents. “thanks for picking me up by the way, and the ice cream.”

“no worries,” he mumbles, turning the wheel.

“do you have more of my clothes?” you open the glove box pulling your panties out.

“just some leggings and shit in the trunk,” he tells you casually.

“why are you stealing from me,” you sigh, making him chuckle.

“i’ll just get pee pads instead. is that better?”

“god that’s weird. i never do that with anyone else,” you admit.

“wait what?” he stops at a light, looking at you grinning.

“i mean i’ve come close but never like,” you pause motioning, “that. the first time was with you.” you see his ego growing beneath his skin already regretting what you said.

“you’re saying only my dick, my fingers, my tongue can get you like that,” he’s smiling to himself and it’s so annoying you want to slap him and kiss him. you shake your head, getting the last thought out of your head.

“don’t get a big head or anything. i shouldn’t have said it.” you roll your eyes picking at fuzz on your pants.

“if it helps you’re the only one who can make me cum by just playing with my nipples.”

“i’m sure you can do that all by yourself.”

“i’ve tried.” he says flatly.

“you’re too impatient. you just want to nut as fast as possible when you’re alone.”

“well duh why would i want to drag it out if i’m alone and not playing with you. i don’t even jerk off that much anymore, i just edge myself for you.” you dwell on what he said. he makes it sound like you’re the only one he’s hooking up with.

“you don’t edge yourself for-“

“no.” he interrupts you before you can start listing people. “i don’t hook up with anyone else.”

“what?”

“i don’t hook up with anyone else.” he repeats.

“i dunno, that’s a little too intimate, haechan,” you tease, trying to seem like you don’t care. part of you wants to think about what it actually means and another part wants to ignore him and be oblivious.

“is it? i like being intimate with you,” he meets your eyes quickly, fingers crawling up your leg.

“that sounds so serious,” you breathe deeply.

“don’t tell me you didn’t like that?” recalling how you felt less than 15 minutes ago. squeezing your legs together and your eyes closed. “i know you. you hate that i do, but i know how i make you feel. i’m confident in that.”

you stay quiet the only sound coming from the heat and wheels on pavement. his hand still rests on your thigh, fingers softly thrumming. you don’t really have an answer or any witty remark. he’s right. he does know your body better than anyone you have ever been with. you hate to admit he knows you better too. reading your mind with ease and his humor is just as dirty and weird. deep down you know how you feel for him but you can’t, it breaks the unspoken rule between you too.

“why do you have to be so,” you groan, his hand smooths over your leg.

“i think you know how i feel about you,” he mutters, turning onto you street.

“huh,” you heard him.

“we’re here,” he pulls up beside your apartment.

“thanks,” you whisper, grabbing your bag and shoving your panties in. opening the door and haechan rolls the window down as you slam the door.

“don’t forget,” he holds your skirt up and you grab it from him.

“thanks.”

“good night.”

“good night, and just so you know, i don’t know how you feel about me.” you tell him, pulling back before turning to walk to your door. you want to look back and see his face but you get your keys out and turn them in the lock.

he sits watching you turn the door knob and disappear into your house. he sighs, eyes closing and leaning his head back rubbing his eyes with his palms.

[luvyeni]

[ req? yes / no ]

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ──────── haechan was telling the truth when he said he wasn’t above begging

( 対 ) lee donghyuck + fem. reader wc. 0.7k genre smut · contains! sub!haechan , handjobs , crying kink , unprotected sex mature content. / back to library

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ based off of this video … it did something to me 🫠 …

when your boyfriend told you he wasn’t above begging for your attention you laughed ; he was dramatic like that , so you just brushed it off. “donghyuck be serious.” you walk to your shared room , he was trying to stop you from going out for drinks , and he was using any means necessary. “you think i’m playing , i’m serious i’m not above begging, you think i won’t beg?”

he followed behind his you , still pleading his case. “i don’t think you will , i think you’re being dramatic as usual , but it’s not gonna work this time.” you say ready to get into the shower — thinking he gave up you. he in fact didn’t. “baby.”

you watched in shock as the man before you fell to his knees , looking up at you with shiny eyes. “hyuck what are you doing?” his hands were on his knees , he was really about to beg you. “please.” he started , his voice already full of desperation. “please stay home.” he pleaded over and over , even more desperate than the last. “i need you , need you so badly.” he whined , sending a wave of pleasure to your lower region. you never saw him act like this before … it really woke something up in you.

“you need me?” you brought your hand up to his cheek , he nestled his face into your hand. “so bad , it hurts.” your thumb swiping across his plump lip. “it hurts?” he nodded. “poor baby.” you mocked , he whined. “please touch me.” he said. “i’ll do anything , please just touch me.”

haechan felt like he was gonna pass out , you were using him , pumping his cock over and over , pushing him right to the edge , just to ruin his orgasm. “you were so desperate for me to use you , why are you crying like a baby now?” you pouted , squeezing his base. “you wanted this.” he cried out as you forced his hips down. “i-i need to cum , please let me cum.”

“but you said you’d do anything i want.” you said evilly. “well what i want is to make you cry.” you chuckled , releasing your hand , ruining his orgasm for 3rd time. “go-god please.” he sobbed out. “please yn , please let me cum.” his hips bucked up trying to catch your hand. his cock bobbing against his stomach , a deep dark red. “not yet , i’m not done.”

his eyes could help but roll back as you finally sunk down on him. “ah shit!” he cursed , feeling your warm cunt suffocating his cock. “wait , please don’t move.” he moaned , trying to compose himself. “i’m gonna cum if you do.” you scoffed. “that’s pathetic.” you slowly rocked your hips back and forth. “you’ll regret it if you cum.” you began to bounce on his cock. “wa-wait , not so fast please.”

his face was wet from tears , it was such a turn on watch your boyfriend be reduced to a puddle of tears. “you look so pretty crying like this.” you kissed his wet cheeks. “you wanna cum that bad?” he nodded , gripping the sheets. “so-so bad , please let me cum.” he was seeing stars , his stomach tightening. “should i make you beg?” you smiled watching his shake his head vigorously. “no no please.” he cried out. “please let me cum , please.”

you decide to give him a break. “cum.” and that’s all he needed before he bucked his hips up , cumming inside you , he let out a loud sob as he shot ropes and ropes of cum inside you. “oh my god.” he gasped out. “fuck fuck fuck.”

his head was spinning as you kept going. “i-i came.” he stuttered. “but i didn’t , are you gonna be selfish?” he really didn’t have it in him , but he promised you. “aren’t you gonna be my good boy?” he nodded. “i-i’ll be good.” he stuttered. “good.”

“because i’m about to milk your pretty cock dry.”

©️LUVYENI

[pohyuck]

shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t —

⚡︎ .ᐟ boy-next-door!haechan x reader—where they weren't supposed to kiss. or call. or catch feelings. too bad they suck at rules.

⚡︎ .ᐟ inspired by NIKI's "shouldn't, couldn't, wouldn't"—i love her so much plz give the song a listen if you haven't yet!!

⚡︎ .ᐟ suggestive content, and waayyy too many late-night feelings. (11.2k)

· · ─ ─ · · · · ─ ─ · ·

moving day was a disaster waiting to happen, and surprise—it happened. three hours of sleep, zero caffeine, and enough bad decisions packed into one tote bag to make a reality show jealous.

all you had to do was survive moving day without collapsing, crying, or accidentally making eye contact with a neighbor you'd have to avoid forever.

spoiler alert: you would fail at all three.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · · · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

shouldn’t

moving day was already the worst.

you were sleep deprived, under caffeinated, and sweating through your tote bag. you had just barely managed to drag a heavy suitcase to your apartment door before realizing the key was on the very bottom of your backpack. beneath a book, a half-eaten granola bar, and your crippling regret.

he was sitting across from your new apartment, cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by half a bag of cheetos and the loudest facetime call in the world. from what you could hear, his friend was yelling something about a suspicious rash.

he looked up just in time to catch you drop your bag, trip over it, and slam your forehead lightly into your own door.

there was a long pause.

then he muted his call and clapped.

“10 out of 10 entrance,” he said, still chewing.

you stared at him from the floor, holding your dignity in both hands like a fragile egg.

“thanks,” you deadpanned. “been rehearsing that fall for weeks.”

he grinned like this was the highlight of his day.

and to make things worse, he was stupid hot. like—should not be allowed to have a face like that—hot. tousled brown hair, warm skin, golden chain resting against his collarbone. and of course, the stupid frog socks.

“you moving in?” he asked, like that wasn’t obvious from the five boxes labeled ‘sad kitchen stuff’ next to you.

“no,” you said. “i just like loitering in random hallways. adds spice to my week.”

he tilted his head. “you’re funny.”

“you’re nosy.”

“you’re in my way.”

“you’re still staring.”

you blinked. looked away so fast your neck almost cracked. he was still grinning, smug, stupid, and gorgeous.

“i’m haechan,” he offered, finally. “i live across from you. that makes us... hallway buddies.”

“gross,” you muttered. “do not say that ever again.”

he only winked. “you’ll love me in three to five business days.”

later that night, after successfully unpacking approximately one spoon and a broken desk lamp, you found a note slid under your door.

“welcome to the building. hallway buddies 4ever <3 - h”

you told yourself you rolled your eyes. you told yourself it didn’t make you smile.

you shouldn’t.

but the butterflies in your stomach said, good fucking luck with that.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

your room is still half-boxes and unfamiliar shadows while you were on the phone with seol.

“oh, by the way, my cousin jaem invited me over to this pregame he’s having at his place. want to come with?”

you reply, “i think i’m just gonna stay in tonight, honestly.”

“too late! i’m already outside.”

you blink. then hear her knock.

jaemin’s apartment is loud. that’s the first thing you notice. not just music, but the sharp, overlapping noise of too many voices in a too-small space. you barely step inside when the second thing hits you.

and the thing was slouched on the couch in a leather jacket, head tilted back, laughing at something jeno just said. then he sees you.

his whole expression shifts, like a switch flipped.

“well, well, well,” he calls out with a lazy grin. “if it isn’t my hallway buddy.”

you groan. “don’t call me that in public.”

you slide into the empty seat next to him before your brain has the chance to vote. his knee brushes yours. neither of you mention it.

across the room, jaemin tosses you a drink without looking. “new apartment treating you okay?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say, then glance at haechan. “we actually live across from each other.”

seol’s head whips around. “wait—you two live across the hall?”

you nod slowly. haechan just shrugs, taking a sip like it’s nothing. “guess we’re neighbors and now party pals.”

jaemin points between the two of you. “and this never came up before?”

“didn’t exactly come up in the elevator,” you mutter.

the night spins faster after that. drinks. music. renjun attempting to dj in the kitchen using two phones and a bowl. someone breaks out a deck of cards. there’s a group effort to freestyle over a beat that no one can agree on. laughter bounces off the walls.

you lose track of time—until you somehow end up crammed into a corner during never have i ever. haechan’s shoulder presses into yours, his voice low near your ear.

“small world,” he says. “hallway, party, now, a fun little drink game territory”

you raise your cup. “should’ve stayed home.”

he clinks his drink lightly against yours. “you’d be bored without me.”

you don’t answer.

because he might be right.

“never have i ever hooked up with a neighbor,” jeno said, smirking.

haechan looked at you.

you glared at him.

“i haven’t!” you protested.

“yet,” he said under his breath.

you blinked.

your ears got hot.

you told yourself it was the tequila.

later, in the quiet chaos of 2 a.m., you were helping him find a spare charger in jaemin’s room. mostly because you didn’t trust him not to steal one if left unsupervised.

“you’re fun,” he said suddenly, watching you from the doorway.

“i’m also emotionally unavailable and extremely good at ghosting,” you replied, digging through drawers.

“perfect,” he said, grinning. “my type.”

you stood up. too close. his eyes dropped to your mouth for half a second too long.

i should step back, you thought.

but you didn’t.

he leaned in slightly. just enough to test a theory.

you stared at him.

then laughed—too loud, too fake, too “please don’t let this be real.”

you cleared your throat.

“we should go,” you said quickly.

he hesitated. then stepped back.

“yeah,” he said softly. “we should.”

once it was time to go home, he insisted on driving back to your place. the drive back home was quiet. and once you’ve arrived at the building, none of you chose to speak. you walked, in silence, with your shoulders brushing.

you didn’t say anything when he opened the door to your building for you. you didn’t say anything when he held the elevator.

“you ever think,” he said, not looking at you “that maybe we’re just avoiding something?”

you blinked. “like what?”

his lips twitched. “something we shouldn’t do.”

you didn’t answer.

you didn’t have to.

the silence said enough.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

the texting started as a joke.

haechan had left a post-it on your door that said:

“you left your dignity in the hallway again. i’m holding it hostage. - h”

you: u have the worst handwriting in the world 😬

DNI!!: shut up >:( that’s not what u said when u saw my handwriting on ur heart

you had no response to that. not a good one anyway.

after that, the texts never really stopped.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

DNI!!: hey, u up?

you: if this is a booty call, i hope u step on a lego

DNI!!: 💔

DNI!!: u’re no fun

you: ?? i am SO much fun

DNI!!: prove it. come out

you: is this another hallway hang

DNI!!: unless u’re scared.. 😮

you opened your door exactly sixty seconds later.

he was already leaning against his, hoodie up, a box of ice cream sandwiches in one hand and the smirk. the one that said he knew he was your worst idea—and your favorite one.

“ice cream truce,” he said. “for your wounded ego.”

“from what?”

“from not kissing me that night at jaemin’s.”

you blinked. he was too close again.

“what makes you think i wanted to?”

he raised a brow. “didn’t you?”

you looked away. “just give me the ice cream.”

you sat in the hallway. backs against the wall. knees brushing again.

“so,” he said between bites, “what’s your tragic backstory?”

you laughed. “you first.”

he grinned, lazy and warm. “gemini. commitment issues. abandonment issues.”

“wow. the holy trinity.”

“and you?”

you shrugged. “recovering situationship survivor.”

he winced. “yikes.”

“you?”

“commitmentphobe with a god complex.”

you scoffed at him. “wow.. you’re actually self-aware?”

“only after 2 a.m.,” he said. “and only with you.”

you told yourself it was a joke. you told yourself the way he was looking at you didn’t make your heart do something stupid.

“haechan…” you started.

“yeah?”

“we’re not doing this.”

he paused.

“doing what?”

you glared. “this. flirting. late-night ice cream. emotional trauma swap. whatever this is.”

he nodded slowly. then smiled again. “yeah. no. definitely not. hallway buddies only.”

you both laughed.

but the silence after wasn’t light. it was heavy. like something was being buried beneath the joke.

when you got up to leave, he didn’t stop you.

because this—whatever it was—was exactly what you both knew you shouldn’t be starting.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

you had a face mask on, hair tied, brooklyn nine-nine playing, and had just settled into your comfort burrito blanket cocoon when your phone buzzed.

DNI!!: can’t sleep

DNI!!: door’s open

you stared at the screen. then stared at your reflection. you looked like someone who’d lost a bet.

you told yourself you wouldn’t don’t go.

then grabbed your hoodie and went anyway.

his lights were dimmed, just one lamp glowing in the corner. the tv was playing some terrible reality dating show—a girl was crying because her man of two days chose someone else during a “trust fall challenge.”

“wow,” you said, sitting on the edge of his couch. “art.”

“masterpiece,” he agreed. “shakespeare could never.”

you watched in silence for a bit. you felt him watching you.

“you didn’t knock,” he said softly.

“you said the door was open.”

he nodded, eyes still on you. “just saying. you used to knock.”

“you used to be less cryptic,” you muttered.

he smiled. “i’m still cryptic. you’re just getting better at reading me.”

you laughed nervously. then fell silent again.

on-screen, someone yelled, “he can’t even define the relationship!”

you scoffed. “DTR,” you said. “men fear it.”

“yeah,” haechan muttered. “i’ve always sucked at that part.”

you glanced at him. he was looking at the floor. “why?” you asked, before you could stop yourself.

he shrugged. “because... once you define it, you can’t pretend it’s not real.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. so you didn’t say anything.

the silence stretched. not awkward. just heavy.

he was sitting closer now. when had he moved?

your knees touched. neither of you pulled away.

you looked at him. he looked at you.

and in that one, too-long second—your whole body went still.

he leaned in. just enough. slowly. like he was giving you time to stop it. your heart felt like it was trying to escape your ribcage.

you knew this was the line.

you knew you shouldn’t.

and still—your hand moved on its own, resting lightly on his knee.

that’s when he froze.

“if we do this,” he said, voice low, “everything changes.”

you swallowed. “i know.”

another beat.

“so, are we—”

you exhaled sharply. stood up. paced toward the door.

“we’re not doing this. we can’t”

he stayed on the couch, silent.

you didn’t turn back.

you didn’t see the way his expression crumpled just slightly.

you didn’t see how he watched the door long after it closed.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

you were just on your way back from seol’s, high on caffeine and gossip, with a paper bag full of banana bread and a playlist queued for the walk upstairs. you didn’t expect to find him standing in front of your apartment door.

hoodie again. hands in pockets. that same boyish look that screamed, “i swear i’m trouble, but you’ll like it.”

“you forget your key?” you asked, unlocking your door.

“no,” he said. “just forgot what it felt like to be around you.”

“what?” you said, laughing awkwardly.

“that sounded better in my head,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

you tilted your head. “why are you here, haechan?”

he didn’t answer right away.

just looked at you like he was trying to memorize your face before doing something stupid.

“i think i’ve been trying to find excuses to see you,” he said.

you went quiet.

he stepped a little closer.

“i think i’ve been trying to forget you, too,” you whispered.

he stopped.

“and how’s that going?”

“terribly.”

he smiled—not the usual cocky, smug one. this was smaller. sadder. almost hopeful.

“can i come in?” he asked.

you didn’t trust yourself to answer with words.

so you opened the door.

and he followed.

you didn’t even turn the lights on—just tossed your bag on the counter and leaned against it, heart hammering like it knew what was coming.

haechan stood in your kitchen like he’d done it a thousand times.

“you want tea?” you asked, trying to buy yourself time. sanity.

“only if you’re making it shirtless.”

“you’re unbelievable.”

“you say that like it’s new information.”

you rolled your eyes. “you want tea or not?”

“nah,” he said softly, walking up behind you. “right now, i only want… you.”

your breath caught.

you turned around slowly. he was too close. too warm. too everything.

his hand lifted—not to grab or pull or take—just to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“if we do this,” you said, barely audible, “we can’t pretend anymore.”

he nodded. “i’m tired of pretending.”

“we said we shouldn’t.”

“we also said we wouldn’t.”

you paused. “but right now?”

“we couldn’t not.”

that was all it took.

your mouths met halfway. desperate. months of lingering glances and almost-kisses finally unraveling like thread. your hands tangled in his hoodie. his fingers dug into your waist like he’d die if he let go.

it wasn’t graceful. it wasn’t planned.

but it was real.

too real.

somewhere between the kisses and the way he whispered your name like it hurt, your brain screamed that this is a mistake.

but your body? your heart?

they didn’t care.

on your couch, beneath the dim kitchen light, you let him see the version of you you’d kept guarded. and in return, he gave you the one he never let anyone else hold.

when it was over—when your breathing slowed and the silence returned—he traced lazy circles on your bare shoulder and murmured,

“i don’t want to go back to pretending.”

you didn’t say anything.

you didn’t need to.

because you were already too far in.

and somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew.

this was the beginning of something you wouldn’t be able to walk away from.

couldn’t

“you couldn’t DTR, wouldn’t it be nice if we could stay friends?”

you woke up to the sound of the kettle whistling.

for a second, you thought you were dreaming. your place was never that quiet in the morning—usually it was just the hum of your phone alarm and the silent screaming of your soul.

but this time?

there was someone in your kitchen.

and he was humming.

you sat up slowly, hair a mess, shirt barely clinging to your shoulder. it smelled like him. which was unfair. because now you couldn’t even wear your own clothes without remembering last night.

you padded out to the kitchen, barefoot and sleepy-eyed, only to find haechan pouring hot water into two mugs.

he turned at the sound of your yawn, grinning.

“morning to you too,” he said, sliding one of the mugs across the counter. “tea. not made shirtless. sorry to disappoint.”

“wow, you made me tea?”

“i did,” he said. “don’t worry, i didn’t poison it. i only do that on the third hookup.”

you snorted, reluctantly smiling. “so this is a hookup?”

he paused.

the room felt too still.

“i mean,” he started, “unless you’d prefer we call it a… spiritual bonding ritual or something.”

you gave him a look.

“kidding,” he said quickly. “honestly? i don’t know. i just… i wanted to make you tea. that’s all.”

you sipped it. still warm. still slightly sweet.

“you’re weird,” you muttered.

he leaned against the counter, watching you.

“and you kissed me back.”

“well, you kissed me first.”

“you moaned.”

“you’re lucky i didn’t bite.”

“..you did bite.”

you choked on your tea.

he laughed.

god, why did he always laugh like that? like it came from somewhere deep in his chest. like he wasn’t scared of anything.

but you were.

scared of this. of him. of how this already felt like something you couldn’t name without ruining it.

“you’re still here,” you said quietly, setting your mug down.

he tilted his head.

“did you think i’d leave?”

you shrugged.

he didn’t say anything. just stepped forward, gently taking your hand in his.

“i meant it,” he said. “last night. i don’t wanna pretend anymore.”

you swallowed hard. “and what exactly are we doing?”

he didn’t answer right away.

instead, he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

then your wrist.

then your shoulder.

your breath hitched.

“i don’t know,” he whispered. “but i do know i’m not ready to stop.”

and neither were you.

so when he kissed you again—slow, soft, full of unspoken things—you kissed him back.

not because it was a good idea.

not because it would end well.

but because you couldn’t resist.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

the second time it happened was thursday.

because, of course, it had to be thursday.

thursday was supposed to be uneventful. boring. uneventful-boring-thursday. but then he showed up at your door again, hoodie down, smile up, eyes bright like he knew you were going to let him in.

you didn’t even ask why. just stepped aside and said, “you know the drill. shoes off.”

he toed them off dramatically and flopped onto your couch like he paid rent.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” he said.

“you’re lucky i’m lonely.”

he clutched his chest. “ouch. right in the fragile male ego.”

“you have an ego?”

“only when you’re around.”

he had a way of saying things that sounded like jokes but felt like truths. you hated how easily you blushed. how fast your heartbeat got when he looked at you like that.

“i brought chips,” he said, pulling out a bag from his hoodie like it was contraband. “and the ramen you like.”

you narrowed your eyes. “are you trying to seduce me with carbs?”

“is it working?”

“...yes.”

and just like that, thursday was ruined.

or maybe, saved.

because the next thing you knew, he was in your kitchen again—badly boiling noodles and dramatically sneezing from the spice, and you were sitting on the counter, swinging your legs like a teenager with a crush.

you weren’t dating.

but you weren’t just friends.

you were something in-between, something unnamed, something filled with stupid inside jokes and unsaid feelings and late-night cravings that weren’t just about ramen.

after dinner, he sat a little too close. your knees touched. your pinkies brushed. he let his hand rest on your thigh and didn’t move it.

he kissed you again—slow, teasing, like he had all the time in the world.

you didn’t talk much that night.

you didn’t have to.

you both lay there in your bed, barely under the covers, silence pressing between you like a second body.

“do you want to sleep over?” you asked, almost too quietly.

he blinked. “i mean… yeah. if that’s okay?”

you nodded.

and he stayed.

after that, it just became a thing.

he’d show up.

sometimes with food. sometimes with excuses. sometimes with neither.

you stopped asking why.

he’d tease you when you wore his shirt around the apartment, and you’d throw a pillow at him when he called you “cutie with commitment issues.”

“takes one to know one,” you always shot back.

“i’m not one for titles, in other words, terrified. that p*ssy kept my words out the door”

you didn’t talk about what you were doing. you didn’t make rules. but there were rules.

1. no sleepovers unless it “just happened.”

2. no texting first (but replying fast enough so it didn’t look like you cared too much).

3. no kissing in public.

4. no getting caught.

and the most important one: no feelings. ever. not even a little.

but feelings were slippery.

feelings showed up when you watched him fall asleep on your couch, curled up like a cat.

feelings showed up when he brought you cough drops and orange juice the second you said, “i feel kinda off today.”

feelings showed up when he danced with you in your tiny living room to a dumb commercial jingle and said, “see? we’d win ‘so you think you can dance: emotionally unavailable edition.’”

you laughed, but your heart skipped.

because deep down, you knew:

you weren’t emotionally unavailable.

you were just emotionally terrified.

you told yourself this was fine.

you weren’t one for titles, anyway.

but one night—a random wednesday—you caught yourself staring at him for too long.

watching him fold your laundry like it was normal. like he belonged here.

and it hit you.

you’d memorized him.

his dumb jokes.

his bad habits.

the way he’d shut down when he needed you the most.

you knew him better than you were supposed to.

and worse?

you didn’t want anyone else to.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

one night, while he was getting dressed after—hoodie half on, hair messy, lips still swollen from kissing—he paused in your doorway.

“you ever think about what we’re doing?”

you blinked. “what do you mean?”

he shrugged. “i dunno. like… do you ever wish it was more?”

your chest tightened.

“haechan…”

“i’m not saying we should,” he said quickly, waving his hands. “i’m just saying… wouldn’t it be nice?”

your silence was the only answer he needed.

he left a few minutes later, same as always.

but something had shifted.

something you didn’t have the words for yet.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

you shouldn’t have gone.

you knew it the second you stepped into the apartment.

because there he was. already wearing that stupid smug smile. already making himself way too comfortable on jaemin’s beanbag like he wasn’t half the reason your knees were still sore.

“look who decided to show up,” haechan said, raising his brows.

you kept your expression neutral. “someone had to make this room attractive.”

“and that someone’s obviously me,” he shot back.

jeno raised a brow. “you two flirting or fighting?”

you both answered at the same time.

“fighting.”

“flirting.”

everyone groaned.

“we get it,” renjun muttered. “sexual tension. unresolved. like literally every drama. can we watch the movie now?”

you sat as far away from him as possible. on the floor. next to seol, who immediately gave you a look.

“you good?” she whispered.

you nodded. liar.

she leaned closer. “you sure you’re not sleeping with him?”

you blinked innocently. “who?”

“don’t ‘who’ me. that look he gave you just now? that was either i’ve seen you naked or i plan to very soon.”

“seol, shut up,” you whispered, face heating.

across the room, haechan was very obviously not watching the movie. his eyes kept flickering to you.

he stretched lazily, arm brushing jeno’s shoulder.

“this movie’s mid,” he announced.

“you were the one who suggested it,” jaemin said.

“yeah, and now i regret it.”

you were trying so hard to focus on the screen. but you could feel him watching you. every glance burned. your fingers twitched.

seol’s eyes narrowed. “girl, your ears are turning red.”

“i’m fine,” you hissed.

haechan got up a few minutes later. “bathroom,” he muttered. but the second he passed behind you, his hand ghosted over your back. quick. featherlight. like he just had to touch you.

your breath caught.

seol glanced between you two.

“…nope. they’re definitely f—”

“back in a sec!” you blurted, hopping up and heading toward the hallway like your life depended on it.

it kind of did.

he was waiting.

not in the bathroom.

but leaning against the wall in the hallway, arms crossed, like he knew you’d follow.

“you know,” he said, voice low. “we could’ve just stayed home.”

“we’re being normal,” you said, avoiding his gaze.

he stepped closer.

“this isn’t normal,” he murmured.

“we’re trying to be.”

“trying isn’t succeeding.”

you were breathing too fast.

he moved again, backing you up against the wall.

“they’re literally in the other room,” you whispered.

“you think i care?” he said, smiling like the devil himself. “you looked at me like you wanted me to care.”

your eyes fluttered shut. “this is a bad idea.”

“so was the first time. and the second. and the fifth. but you keep kissing me anyway.”

you swallowed hard.

“you said we wouldn’t do this again.”

“you said that,” he said, closing the gap between you. “i never agreed.”

and then he kissed you.

like the world didn’t exist outside that hallway.

like every “we shouldn’t” was just foreplay for “we will anyway.”

his hands were under your hoodie. your fingers were tangled in his hair. the sound of the movie barely reached you—the real noise was the one in your chest, that loud, crashing ache of god, i want you, but god, i shouldn’t

his hand brushed against your hip, a deliberate, teasing touch that sent a shiver down your spine. you bit your lip, pulse quickening as you fought the urge to press yourself against him.

the sound of laughter from the living room seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the pounding of your heart. you knew you were playing with fire, but the risk only added to the allure. you tilted your head, meeting his gaze.

"you know," you said, voice barely above a whisper,

"we're not exactly being subtle."

he smirked, his confidence unwavering.

"who said we need to be?" his fingers traced the edge of your hoodie, his touch light but deliberate. "they’re too busy with their own drama to notice us." his words were a challenge, a dare you couldn't resist.

your resolve wavered as his hand slid up your side, his thumb grazing the sensitive skin just below your ribcage. you leaned into him, body responding to his touch with a mind of its own.

"and if they do?" you teased, voice trembling slightly.

"then they'll see what they've been missing," he replied, his tone daring.

before you could respond, he cupped your jaw, pulling you closer. his lips brushed against yours, a fleeting touch that left you breathless. the kiss was soft, almost tentative, but it ignited a fire within you that you couldn't ignore.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him as the kiss deepened. his hands moved to your waist, pulling you tighter until there was no space between you.

the hallway seemed to shrink around you, the world narrowing to just the two of you and the heat of your desire. you moaned softly into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair as you surrendered to the moment.

his hands moved lower, sliding over your hips and down to your thighs. he lifted you effortlessly, pressing you against the wall as he kissed you with a hunger that left no doubt about his intentions.

you wrapped your legs around his waist, your heart racing as you felt the hardness of his body against yours. the thrill of being so close to getting caught only heightened the sensation, the risk adding an edge to your passion.

then jeno’s voice rang down the hallway. “bro, what’s taking you so long? are you pooping or—”

you broke the kiss, breathing like you’d just run a marathon.

“back in a sec!” he yelled, way too cheerful.

you pulled away from him, fixed your hoodie, hair a mess, face hot, and mouth swollen.

he winked at you. “so… movie?”

you glared. “i hate you.”

he grinned. “you couldn’t.”

and you didn’t deny it.

“i could take more shots or i could take you off your blouse”

the party was already a mistake.

not because it was boring—but because the second you walked in and locked eyes with him from across the room, everything else just turned into background noise.

haechan was already leaning against the kitchen counter, red cup in hand, loose black shirt and smug grin fully deployed.

you hated how he looked at you like he had a secret.

you hated it more because you were the secret.

you didn’t approach him.

you did what any self-respecting person would do.

you mingled, you laughed at renjun’s sarcastic commentary, you complimented someone’s fake fur jacket. and you ignored the way your skin buzzed under his stare.

seol noticed first.

“he hasn’t stopped staring at you,” she muttered over the music, sipping something suspiciously green.

“he’s looking at the chips behind me.”

“right. and i’m looking at the dip.”

you rolled your eyes, but when you turned around, he was gone.

haechan had disappeared.

and somehow, that made it worse.

because now you were aware of him—like heat at your back, like footsteps you couldn’t hear yet. like a ghost you definitely had unfinished business with.

you wandered down the hall, claiming you were looking for the bathroom.

you weren’t.

you knew exactly where you were going.

and there he was.

in one of the empty rooms, door cracked open just enough for you to catch a glimpse of him sitting on the desk, legs swinging, cup still in hand.

he didn’t look surprised.

he just tilted his head.

“looking for something?” he asked.

you stepped in and closed the door behind you. and locked it.

“you left without saying hi.”

“well, you seemed occupied.. pretending not to know me,” he said, voice amused.

you crossed your arms. “we said no hooking up at parties.”

“we also said no feelings,” he replied. “and yet here we are.”

“this is different.”

“is it?” he slid off the desk, walking slowly toward you. “or are we just really bad at rules?”

your breath caught when he reached you.

“don’t look at me like that,” you whispered.

“like what?”

“like you’re gonna do something reckless.”

he leaned in. “define reckless.”

you didn’t answer.

your lips already did.

the kiss was hot and desperate, all the tension from earlier spilling over. his hands were on your waist, yours fisting in his shirt like you needed to anchor yourself.

he lifted you onto the desk like you weighed nothing. like he needed you closer. like he didn’t care who walked in.

“someone could come in,” you mumbled against his mouth.

“door’s locked.”

“people are literally outside.”

he grinned. “guess we’ll be quiet, then.”

your laugh was breathless. “you are never quiet.”

“watch me,” he whispered, and kissed you again.

it was fast. messy. intense. the kind of kiss that made your knees weak and your heart angry with you. because you knew better.

but you didn’t want to do better.

you hadn’t even had a drink.

you didn’t need one.

he was already intoxicating.

“this is so bad,” you moaned,

“the worst,” he agreed. “we’re going to hell.”

“we said we’d stop.”

“we say a lot of things.”

“and what are we gonna say after this?”

he met your eyes.

and for once, he didn’t joke.

“nothing,” he said. “we don’t have to say anything. we never do.”

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

you were at his place.

again.

for “homework.”

because apparently, two people who have the self-control of soggy toast thought they could survive a full hour of proximity without pouncing on each other.

“seriously,” you said, dropping your bag on his bed. “we’re gonna study. like, for real. no distractions.”

haechan raised both hands in fake surrender. “no distractions. i swear.”

you narrowed your eyes.

“no weird comments. no staring. no—”

“sexually suggestive jokes? i would never.”

“haechan.”

he smiled, all teeth. “fine. serious face. hit me with the notes.”

ten minutes in, he was already failing.

you were mid-sentence, reading off your notes, when you noticed it.

he was staring at your lips.

you didn’t look up. “stop it.”

“stop what?” he said, all fake innocence.

“you’re doing that thing where you pretend to listen but you’re actually thinking about making out with me.”

“no i’m not,” he said. “i’m thinking about undressing you with my teeth.”

you dropped your pen. “jesus christ—“

“what?” he laughed, leaning back against the wall. “you said no weird comments, not no honest ones.”

“you’re impossible.”

“and yet, here you are.”

you glared. “this is why we can’t do normal things. like sit. and study. and exist without humping.”

“not my fault you look hot when you’re focused.”

you turned to him, exasperated. “you promised.”

“i promised nothing. you said, ‘let’s study,’ and i nodded while imagining you in nothing but a t-shirt.”

you stood. “i’m going home.”

“no, you’re not.”

“watch me.”

“you say that every time, but then—” he stood too, walking toward you like you were prey and he was seconds from pouncing—“you remember how good we are at not studying.”

“we said we wouldn’t do this again.”

he paused in front of you. close. too close.

you hated that you were already leaning in.

“we shouldn’t do this again,” you corrected.

“yet, we couldn’t not,” he whispered, brushing his fingers down your arm.

you stared at him.

this was supposed to be simple.

but now, he was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that made sense, and your heart was doing that thing again, that stupid, fluttery, traitorous thing—

you grabbed his face and kissed him.

and he laughed into it, breath hitching, like he’d known you’d give in.

like he’d always know.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

you woke up tangled in his sheets.

his arm slung over your waist. his face buried in your neck. your phone buzzing somewhere beneath your discarded jeans with three missed calls from seol

seolace: u said “just homework”

seolace: be so serious rn

seolace: r u . still . at his place .

you threw your phone under the pillow and turned to face him.

he was awake.

“hi, baby” he mumbled, voice scratchy.

“we’re not doing this again.” you said—ignoring the tiny somersault your stomach just did

he smirked, eyes still closed. “totally.”

“i’m serious.”

“mhmm.”

you sighed, brushing a strand of hair off his face.

you both knew you were lying.

but for now?

you didn’t care.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

you were up late, preparing for midterms, when your phone suddenly buzzed next to you.

DNI!!: hey, are u up?

DNI!!: not in a ‘come over’ way

DNI!!: okay. maybe in a ‘can i come over’ way

DNI!!: but also.. i brought food

you: if it’s just fries again i’m blocking u

DNI!!: c’monnn babee it’s fries AND ice cream

DNI!!: pleeaaasseee )): u know u love me

DNI!!: fries* 😊

you opened your door three minutes later in mismatched socks and a shirt that—may or may not—have been his.

he looked at you like you were ridiculous.

you rolled your eyes, tossing him a napkin. he didn’t sit on the floor this time—instead, he plopped onto your bed like he lived there. like it was normal. like this whole setup was normal.

“you look tired,” he said through a mouthful of fries.

“midterms,” you replied.

he frowned. “are you okay?”

you nodded. “just a little burnt out.”

he reached over, brushing his thumb across your cheek like it was nothing. like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“you should rest more,” he said, soft.

you blinked.

haechan wasn’t… sweet. not like this.

he was chaotic. loud. reckless. he made fun of you for having a notes app titled ‘reasons not to text him.’

he wasn't supposed to care.

you cleared your throat. “you’re being weird.. again.”

“no i’m not.” he looks at you confused.

“you’re being like… thoughtful.”

he rolled his eyes, shoving a donut in front of your mouth. “fine. next time i’ll throw fries at your face instead.”

you smiled, biting into the donut. “thank you.”

he shrugged. “don’t mention it.”

but he stayed. longer than he usually did.

you watched a dumb movie. you argued about which side of the blanket was yours. he dozed off halfway through with his head on your shoulder, arm slung across your stomach like it belonged there.

you didn’t move.

you just stared at the ceiling, heartbeat doing laps in your chest.

this wasn’t just casual anymore.

you both knew it.

and when he stirred in the early morning light, blinking up at you with sleep in his eyes and a softness in his voice that made your throat ache—

“do you want me to go?”

you almost said no.

but you smiled instead. like always.

“probably.”

he nodded.

but he didn’t move.

“it’s not anything you said, it’s everything you didn’t”

it was raining.

not the dramatic, movie-style kind—just a steady, quiet drizzle tapping against your window as the afternoon faded into blue.

you hadn’t planned to see him.

he hadn’t planned to show up.

but at some point in the day, you’d both ended up in your bed again, sharing your last bag of popcorn and making sarcastic commentary over a romcom neither of you were really watching.

you were lying on your stomach. he was on his back beside you, fingers lazily scrolling through his phone, feet nudging yours every few minutes like a bored child.

“how is it,” he said suddenly, “that you always smell like vanilla and bad decisions?”

you kicked his leg. “how is it that you always sound like a red flag wrapped in a hoodie?”

“it’s a gift.”

you laughed, eyes fluttering shut.

he was quiet for a moment.

“i like this.”

you peeked at him. “the movie?”

“no. this,” he said, waving vaguely at the space between you. “us. being here. it’s... nice.”

you tried to play it off. “don’t get sappy on me now. i will physically throw you out.”

he smiled, soft and slow. “i mean it.”

you looked away, heart thudding in your chest in a way that was not normal. definitely not casual. it was the kind of thud that reminded you that this whole thing—whatever it was—had gotten far out of hand.

“you’ve been acting unusual lately,” you said.

“you always say that when i’m not trying to get in your pants.”

“because… it freaks me out.”

“good. fear keeps things spicy.”

you scoffed.

then, silence.

not uncomfortable. just… full.

full of things neither of you were ready to say.

finally, you broke it.

“you ever think about how we shouldn’t have started this?”

he didn’t look at you.

but he nodded.

“yeah,” he said. “all the time.”

you turned to face him.

“do you regret it?”

he glanced at you then, eyes unreadable.

“no,” he said. “but sometimes i wish it didn’t feel like this.”

“like what?”

“like… if we keep going, one of us is gonna get hurt.”

you swallowed hard.

you knew he was right.

you also knew you weren’t ready to stop.

you reached over and touched his hand—just barely, just enough—and whispered, “stay. just for a bit.”

he did.

no touching. no kissing. no jokes.

just you, him, and the rain outside.

and all the things you still weren’t saying.

“you go and shut me out, figures, you gemini”

it had been one of those nights—the kind where the weight of the world seemed to settle on your shoulders, and the only remedy was to dull the edges with a bottle and a bad rom-com.

but just as you were about to surrender to sleep, the sharp buzz of the doorbell jolted you back to reality.

you groaned, setting the glass down with a thud. who the hell would be at your door at this hour? you weren’t expecting anyone, and the only person who ever showed up unannounced was him.

and the thought alone made your stomach twist. you hesitated, debating whether to ignore it, but curiosity—or maybe something more stubborn—got the better of you. you dragged yourself to the door, flipping on the hallway light as you went.

there he stood, leaning against the frame with that infuriating smirk plastered across his face. his hair was tousled, like he’d run his hands through it a dozen times, and his shirt was half-tucked, as if he’d thrown it on in a rush.

“forgot my charger,” he said, his voice low and casual, like this was the most normal thing in the world.

you crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes. “at midnight? really?”

he shrugged, that smirk widening. “figured you’d be up. you’re always up this late.”

you wanted to slam the door in his face. but instead, you stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in.

“it’s in the living room. take it and go.”

he didn’t move. just stood there, his gaze locking onto yours, and for a moment, the air between you crackled with something unspoken.

you knew you should’ve pushed him out, should’ve kept your distance, but before you could think, you were closing the gap between you, your lips crashing against his. it was reckless, impulsive, and entirely against your better judgment. but it was also familiar—too familiar.

he didn’t hesitate, his arms wrapping around you like he’d been waiting for this moment all along.

stumbling backward toward the bedroom, the world narrowing to just the two of you. clothes were discarded, excuses and self-control unraveling like cheap thread.

you didn’t want to think about why this was happening again, why you kept letting it happen. you just wanted to feel something—anything—other than the emptiness that had been gnawing at you all night.

“i hate you,” you whispered against his mouth, your breath hot and uneven.

he chuckled, his hands sliding under your shirt, tracing the curve of your waist. “you love me,” he murmured, his tone teasing but his touch anything but.

you didn’t correct him. you didn’t say anything. instead, you let yourself get lost in him again—in the way his lips moved against yours, in the way his hands seemed to know every inch of your body.

it was the kind of kiss that made your head spin, the kind of touch that felt like it was trying to memorize you. the kind of closeness that always made you forget how much this wasn’t supposed to matter.

but then—right in the middle of it, when your heart was pounding and your skin was flushed and your mind was a blur of want—he spoke.

his voice was low, almost a whisper, but it cut through the haze like a knife.

“god, i think i’m in love with you.”

you froze. just for a second. but it was enough.

he didn’t notice. or maybe he did. but he didn’t stop. his lips kept moving against yours, his hands kept roaming, like the words hadn’t just dropped between you like a grenade with the pin pulled.

you let him kiss you again. let him touch you like nothing had happened. like the words hadn’t changed everything.

but they had.

later, when it was quiet and you were lying there in the dark, your back to his chest and his arm around your waist, you whispered, "did you mean what you said?"

he was quiet.

too quiet.

"haechan?"

he let out a soft exhale.

"no," he said. too quickly. too carefully. "i didn’t mean it."

you nodded.

but you didn’t believe him.

he didn’t believe himself either.

but neither of you said anything else.

and in the silence that followed, you both realized something terrifying.

this thing you swore wasn’t real?

it was starting to feel like the only real thing either of you had.

“you wonder why suddenly i’m comin’ off indifferent. what you don’t seem to understand is..”

the next time you saw him, it was as if nothing had happened.

you opened the door, and he was standing there in his stupid hoodie, holding a bag of chips and some sour gummies like that could fix whatever this was.

“snack delivery,” he said, way too cheerful.

you raised an eyebrow. “you don’t even like sour gummies.”

he grinned. “you do, though.”

and just like that, the air shifted.

you stepped aside and let him in.

you sat beside each other on your bed—a little farther apart than usual. the movie played. the snacks sat between you. and the silence was louder than the speakers.

“so,” he said eventually, “you seen that tiktok where—”

“haechan,” you interrupted, voice quiet.

he looked at you.

you didn’t even know what you wanted to say. only that something was caught in your throat and it was killing you not to ask.

but instead of saying “you told me you loved me” or “did you mean it” or “what are we doing,” you just said, “why are you acting this way.”

he blinked. “you’re the one who’s acting.. strange.”

“no, you are.”

“i literally brought you snacks.”

“yeah, you’re being fake nice.”

he frowned, leaning back on his hands. “you’re being fake mean.”

“and you’re being fake fine.”

and there it was.

silence again. thick. awful.

you sighed, “can we not do this?”

“do what?”

“this thing where we pretend we’re mad at each other so we don’t have to talk about last time.”

he bit the inside of his cheek.

you were right.

and you were mad. just not at him. not really.

you were mad at yourself. for letting it get this far. for letting it matter.

but what were you supposed to say? that you heard him say he loved you, and then heard him take it back? that you wanted it to be real, even though it shouldn’t be?

he reached for the bag of gummies and started eating like it would fill the silence.

you let him.

but you didn’t move closer this time.

and he didn’t either.

“it’s not always peachy, look, love ain’t that easy”

you hadn’t seen him in a week.

not because he hadn’t tried.

he had—three calls, four texts, one passive-aggressive meme, and a “u left ur hoodie btw” that you knew was just an excuse.

you didn’t reply.

you couldn’t.

because it wasn’t just about the hookup anymore. it hadn’t been for a while.

you were catching feelings, and he was pretending not to. and the truth was—you couldn’t keep pretending too.

so when he showed up again—hands in his pockets, chewing gum like this wasn’t the first time he’d stood outside your door with something to say and no idea how to say it—you almost didn’t open.

almost.

you cracked the door open.

“i don’t want to do this anymore,” you said.

no hello. no smile. just the truth.

he blinked. “okay. wow.”

you nodded, bracing yourself.

he looked away, jaw tight. “you could’ve at least answered.”

“what was i supposed to say?” your voice was low. “we were hooking up, and then you said you were in love with me—and then you acted like it didn’t matter.”

“you asked if i meant it,” he said. “what was i supposed to do?”

“you could’ve told the truth.”

he was silent.

and that said everything.

you swallowed. “you know what hurt more than hearing you didn’t mean it?”

he looked at you, eyes suddenly soft. guarded.

“what?” he said, barely above a whisper.

“you didn’t even ask how i felt.”

he opened his mouth. closed it again.

and that pause—that silence—said more than anything he could’ve.

you stepped aside. you weren’t sure why. some part of you still hoping, still stupid.

he walked in slowly, looking around like the place had changed. like you had.

you followed him into the living room. it felt smaller with him in it. heavier.

he sat on the edge of the couch but didn’t speak. just looked at you.

you crossed your arms. “don’t say it again.”

his brows knit. “say what?”

“what you said last time.”

he leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped like he didn’t trust them. “why not?”

you shook your head, voice flat. “because it doesn’t change anything. because we both know this—” you gestured between the two of you, the tension, the mess. “this isn’t real.”

he was quiet for a moment. then, with more force than before, he said, “feels pretty real to me.”

you stared at him. hard. “you always make it feel real. you say things like that, and you look at me like this is everything. and i let it get to me. i let myself believe it means something.”

“maybe it does,” he said, standing. “maybe i mean it.”

you searched his face, hoping for something steady, something solid. but there was only more uncertainty. more wanting.

“then why does it still feel like i’m the only one who’ll get hurt?” you asked.

he didn’t answer.

not right away.

and maybe that was the answer.

“you couldn’t define the relationship,” you said, voice low and shaking now. “you couldn’t say what you wanted.”

he took a step forward.

you took one back.

“don’t,” you whispered.

“y/n—”

“we shouldn’t have started this,” you said. “and now i couldn’t stop even if i wanted to.”

his face softened. “then don’t stop.”

you almost laughed. almost.

but instead, you stepped back toward the door.

“you need to go,” you said, quiet but clear.

he didn’t fight you. just nodded slowly.

“fine,” he said. “but we’re not done talking about this.”

you didn’t reply. just opened the door and waited.

he paused for a second. then walked out.

you didn’t slam the door.

you just closed it gently.

finally.

then you leaned against it, your chest tight, your mind loud. you knew you’d made the right decision. you knew it was the only way to protect yourself.

but still, his words lingered in the silence like smoke.

and something in you knew that nothing would be quite the same again.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

renjun was telling some dumb story about how jaemin got kicked out of a 7/11 for trying to microwave his socks.

the group was cracking up. seol was doubled over. jeno had tears in his eyes. and haechan—haechan was laughing too, but his eyes kept flicking to you.

you didn’t laugh.

you smiled, sure. nodded. even chimed in once or twice. but your body was angled slightly away from him, arms crossed over your chest like a shield.

he noticed.

you noticed him noticing.

and seol definitely noticed both of you.

“what’s wrong with you two?” she asked suddenly, cutting through the noise like a knife.

you and haechan turned at the same time, startled. “what?”

“you’re acting weird,” she said, squinting. “like... not the funny, flirty weird. like actual weird.”

“we’re fine,” you said too quickly.

“yeah,” haechan added, forcing a laugh. “totally fine.”

the silence that followed was awkward enough to kill the entire room’s vibe.

jaemin blinked. “damn. now it’s weird for us, too.”

jeno cleared his throat. “anyone want more chips?”

you stood up. “i’ll help.”

haechan stood up too. “i got it.”

you both reached for the same bowl and your fingers brushed. it was nothing. a second. a spark. but it felt like being burned.

you flinched.

he did too.

and when your eyes met, it was like looking at a stranger wearing the face of someone you used to know too well.

“you good?” he asked quietly.

“mhm,” you lied.

he nodded like he believed you. like you were both pretending this didn’t hurt.

you took the chips and walked back to the others.

he stayed behind.

renjun watched him from the couch.

“not that deep, right?” renjun said casually, like a joke.

but it wasn’t.

and haechan didn’t answer.

because it was deep.

and it was drowning them.

“you don’t pick up when i call, unless i call you mine”

you don’t remember who called first.

it didn’t matter.

and then—quiet knocks. familiar eyes. the kind of silence that meant everything.

he stepped inside like he didn’t know what he was doing.

you let him in like you didn’t either.

no words. not at first.

you were both so tired of pretending. so tired of brushing shoulders in rooms full of people and pretending you didn’t notice how the distance hurt.

you kissed him.

and it wasn’t frantic this time.

it was careful.

like maybe, just maybe, if you kissed him gently enough, it wouldn’t break your heart.

his hands found your waist. yours tangled in his hair. the kind of kiss that tasted like forgiveness, or something dangerously close to it.

“you don’t have to say anything,” you whispered, breaking the kiss to breathe.

he shook his head slowly. “i want to.”

but he didn’t. not yet.

he touched you like it was the last time. like he wanted to remember everything. how your skin felt under his palms. how you sighed when he kissed down your jaw. how you looked at him when your guard finally dropped.

every movement was slow. like a secret unspoken. like you both knew this wasn’t just hooking up anymore, but neither of you wanted to say it out loud.

because saying it would make it real.

because if it was real, it could end.

he kissed every inch of you like he owed you an apology. like he wanted to say sorry for every moment you doubted him. for every night you stared at the ceiling, wondering what the hell you meant to him.

you looked up at him, breath catching. “haechan—”

“i meant it.”

your heart stopped.

“that night,” he said softly, pressing his forehead to yours. “when i said i was in love with you. i meant it.”

you blinked up at him, stunned. raw. silent.

“i just—” he exhaled. “i didn’t want it to be real. because if it was, then this... this thing we had? it couldn’t stay casual anymore.”

you swallowed. “and now?”

his voice cracked. “now it’s too real to ignore.”

you kissed him again. longer this time. deeper.

and when your bodies moved together, it was less about need and more about knowing.

knowing that this was never just lust.

that underneath the sneaking around, the laughs, the tension—there was always something more.

you both just tried so hard not to see it.

but now, in the dark, there was nothing to hide behind.

it wasn’t much, but it was enough. for now, it had to be.

the afternoon light spilled softly through the curtains, wrapping the room in a golden hush. you closed your eyes, breathing him in, letting the stillness wrap around you like a promise.

his heartbeat pulsed steady beneath your ear, a quiet rhythm that told you—he was here. this was real.

and yet, as the sun sank lower and shadows stretched long across the floor, a fragile ache bloomed in your chest. it felt too perfect, too fleeting.

his presence, his warmth, felt like something borrowed—something beautiful the world might decide you weren’t meant to keep. you wanted to ask him to stay. to whisper don’t go. but the words tangled behind your teeth.

so instead, you held him tighter. your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt like they could root you to him, like you could stop time if you just loved him hard enough.

and he felt it—somehow, he always did. his hand found your cheek, tender and knowing, his thumb tracing soft, grounding circles on your skin.

“baby…” he said softly, the word brushing against your heart more than your ears. he tilted your chin up just enough for your eyes to meet his.

“it’s okay,” he whispered, voice thick with something unspoken. maybe he meant this moment. maybe he meant you. maybe he meant the both of you.

you didn’t know. but with his arms around you and the world held at bay, you wanted to believe it. even just for now.

it was quiet when it ended.

your head on his chest. his hand running slowly down your back. breaths slowly syncing. hearts still racing.

and for the first time, he didn’t leave.

and for the first time, you didn’t ask him to stay.

he just did.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

the morning light came too fast.

you woke up before he did. you didn’t know what time it was. you didn’t care.

he was still beside you—breathing slow, chest rising and falling like nothing was wrong.

but something was.

something always had been.

you stared at the ceiling for a long time. longer than you meant to.

you wanted to stay like this—in the warmth of the sheets, in the comfort of his arm still lazily thrown across your waist, in the silence that hadn’t turned heavy yet.

but the second he blinked awake and looked at you… it hit you again.

this wasn’t yours.

not really.

he smiled, groggy and soft. “morning.”

you nodded. “hey.”

he leaned in to kiss you. and you let him.

but your hands didn’t reach for him the way they used to.

“you okay?” he asked, voice thick with sleep.

you hesitated. “yeah. just tired.”

you got up. slipped into your shirt. searched the floor for the rest of your clothes.

“you don’t have to rush out,” he said behind you. you paused. “i know.”

he sat up, rubbing his eyes. “did i.. say something wrong?”

you shook your head. “no. that’s the problem.” he frowned.

“you didn’t say anything,” you continued, still not facing him. “you didn’t say what this was. what we were. you didn’t ask what i wanted. or tell me what you wanted.”

“and i kept waiting,” you said softly. “for you to define it. for you to say something. anything. and you never did.”

“i didn’t know how,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

you finally turned around, arms crossed, heart exposed. “i know. and that’s okay. but i can’t keep doing this if we’re just gonna keep pretending it’s not something real.”

he looked at you, eyes searching. “but last night—”

“last night was real,” you said. “this morning... this is real too.”

“we’re not always peachy,” you said, echoing the words you both used to laugh at. “love isn’t that easy. but it also shouldn’t be this hard.”

he didn’t argue. instead, he nodded slowly. “i know.”

you slipped on your jacket. picked up your phone. opened the door.

you hesitated—one foot out the door, heart still inside.

and just like that—the door closed.

this time, for good.

“i drank too much tonight, to not try to call you up. i mean, that’s what our phones are for”

you didn’t mean to pour the second glass. or the third.

but it was quiet in the apartment—too quiet—and the clink of ice in the glass felt like the only sound that wouldn’t make you flinch.

you sat on the kitchen floor, back against the cabinet, knees pulled in, sipping something too strong just to feel something soft. it burned going down. not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you you were still here.

the playlist was still playing. his playlist.

you hadn’t touched it in months. maybe you thought deleting it would be too final, too much like deleting him. so it stayed, buried somewhere in your phone. and tonight, it just… started. autoplay, maybe. or fate.

you weren’t sure which hurt more. you laughed once, sharp and bitter, as the first tear slid down. you didn’t wipe it. what was the point?

because this wasn’t about missing him anymore. this was grief. not over him exactly, but over the version of you who once believed love—real, chaotic, aching love—could fix things.

you were wrong.

and he… was quiet now. no more late-night texts. no more inside jokes. no more “u up?” that really meant i miss you.

and he was wrong too.

haechan sat on the steps, a half-empty bottle dangling from his fingers, the night wind brushing over him like a ghost. he didn’t know what time it was. didn’t care.

he hadn’t called. hadn’t texted.

not because he didn’t think about it—he did. every night. especially tonight.

but because he knew you meant it this time. you were done.

and for once, he didn’t fight that. he let the silence stretch. he let it break him.

he tipped the bottle back and swallowed hard. it didn’t make the ache go away, just blurred it at the edges.

your name sat heavy on his tongue. your laugh echoed somewhere between his ears and his ribs.

he remembered the way you used to pull away after, like you were protecting yourself from wanting too much. but your eyes always lingered. you always looked back.

he closed his eyes. and quietly, like confessing something to the dark, he said, “i’m sorry.”

no one answered. but maybe somewhere, over the hum of that old playlist and the clink of your glass hitting the tile, you heard it anyway.

wouldn’t

“so,” seol said gently, handing you a mug of tea, “you wanna tell me what happened now, or do i have to sit here pretending i haven’t been waiting weeks for you to say something?”

you stared down at the steam. then, slowly, “we ended things.” she didn’t flinch. didn’t gasp. didn’t say finally like most people would’ve. just nodded.

“it wasn’t supposed to happen, you know? like… we weren’t even friends. we were just messing around. and i knew—god, i knew it wasn’t a good idea. i knew we shouldn’t.”

she hummed, sipping her tea. “but?” “but we did,” you whispered, bitterly. “because we couldn’t not.” seol reached over and squeezed your wrist gently.

“and he told me he loved me,” you said, voice barely audible now. “and he took it back. like it was something to be ashamed of.”

“i don’t think he meant to hurt me. i think he’s just scared. i think he’s used to everything being temporary. and i let that be enough for a while. i let it be enough that he stayed.” your laugh was dry. empty.

“but it wasn’t. because i kept waiting for something—anything—to make me feel like i was actually his. and he never gave me that. he never said it. and it’s not even the words i needed, it’s the fact that he didn’t try.”

she looked at you. “what would’ve made you stay?” you smiled, a little sad. “if i had his heart. that’s it. if i really had it, it wouldn’t have been this hard.” she set her tea down and pulled you into a hug. you let yourself fall into it, finally soft, finally tired, finally allowing yourself to feel the weight of it all.

“i loved him, seol,” you whispered into her shoulder. “i really did.”

“i know,” she whispered back. “and i’m proud of you for walking away anyway.” you nodded, blinking up at the ceiling like maybe it’d have answers. it didn’t. but she was right.

you walked away. and that had to count for something.

“you know i was never good at this,” haechan said, toeing the leg of the coffee table with his socked foot.

they were at jaemin’s place, eating stale pizza and drinking flat soda, because of course haechan only decided to talk about it at 1 a.m.

jaemin leaned back against the couch. “so, are you gonna tell me what happened with y/n or am i supposed to guess from your playlist getting weirdly depressing lately?”

haechan looked away, his jaw clenching. “we haven’t talked since… since that morning.” “the morning she walked out?” “yeah.”

jaemin didn’t say anything, letting the silence settle.

haechan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “i didn’t know how to tell her i loved her. i know that sounds stupid. i mean—i’ve said it before, to other people. but with her? it was different.”

“different how?”

haechan let out a low laugh. “like if i said it and she said it back, that meant i’d have to stop running from it. like it’d be real. and that scared the shit out of me.”

“but you did love her,” jaemin said. not a question. “yeah,” haechan said, eyes somewhere far. “like, all the little things. the way she acted like she didn’t care but would always bring an extra charger for me just in case. the way she’d make fun of me for being a gemini and still sleep in my shirt.”

jaemin snorted. “you are the most gemini person i’ve ever met.”

“don’t remind me.”

“so what happened?”

haechan leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “i didn’t give her what she needed. i kept making her guess. kept dodging the questions. like, every time she asked what are we, i answered with a joke or a kiss or a let’s not ruin this.”

he shook his head, voice quieter now. “she deserved more than that. she deserved more than… more than someone who couldn’t DTR.”

jaemin’s brows furrowed. “DTR?” “define the relationship.” jaemin blinked. “oh god, you really couldn’t even say it.”

haechan laughed, almost bitterly. “i know. and now she’s gone.” he fell silent again. the tv played something neither of them were watching.

“do you miss her?” jaemin asked after a while. “every day,” haechan said without hesitation. “but it wouldn’t be fair to go back. not if i still don’t know how to be what she needs.”

“so that’s it?” “yeah.” he looked up at jaemin with a soft, crooked smile. jaemin didn’t say anything. just leaned forward and nudged him lightly with his shoulder.

“you know,” jaemin said eventually, “you might not have said the right things. but you felt them. and that counts for something.” haechan swallowed hard. “yeah. just not enough.”

and for once, he didn’t try to joke it off. he just sat with it. with the ache of losing someone who had all of him—even the parts he never figured out how to give.

“wouldn’t it be nice if we could stay friends? but we shouldn’t.”

you were out on a tuesday.

one of those forgettable ones—no rain, no heartbreak, just a coffee run like any other.

until it wasn’t.

he looked the same. maybe a little older. hair longer. hoodie too familiar.

standing in line like he hadn’t once memorized your order.

like he hadn’t once whispered stupid jokes into your neck at 3 a.m.

he didn’t see you at first. too busy scrolling. you could’ve left. you almost did.

but something in you—that soft, reckless part—waited.

and then he looked up.

three people between you. two quiet months apart. his eyes widened, just barely.

fingers froze mid-scroll. and for a second, the silence between you felt louder than it ever had when you were together.

he didn’t smile. didn’t say hi. didn’t step forward. and neither did you.

and now, he just looked at you like a memory that still stung.

you were first to look away.

and when the bell above the coffee shop door chimed behind you, you knew—

you shouldn’t. you couldn’t. and now, you wouldn’t.

──── ☀︎ ──── ☀︎ ──── ☀︎ ────

💌: if you made it all the way here, thank you sooo much for taking the time to read this fic!! 🥹 i seriously can’t believe how much love my little stories have gotten so far—i mostly just write when a random idea smacks me in the face, so seeing people actually enjoy them?? unreal 💞

i wasn’t expecting to finish this one so quickly, but.. i may or may not have been thinking a lot—maybe too much—about a past relationship lately, i guessss that’s why this poured out of me so fast 😬

this is also the longest fic i’ve written yet! honestly, shouldn’t and wouldn’t were meant to be even longer, but guess who didn’t know tumblr has a 1000 text box limit 🫠 had to chop them down a lot ): still, i really really hope you had fun reading!!

p.s. please—don’t you dare settle for someone who won’t define the relationship. you deserve so much better 😤🫶

thanks again for all the support, and feel free to come scream about fic stuff or just say hi anytime 🧸 ‘til next time !! xx

[neogotmysam]

nct dream free use gf part 2

(part 1) dreamies using you, all day, anywhere but its sooooo much nastier and filthier

using you in public, letting strangers touch you and your dirty cunt, making fun of you for how wet you’re getting over some creeps getting off to you

triple penetration with the j line….you have never felt fuller in your life…jaemin thrusting in and out of your ass while jeno and jisung try to fit their massive thick cocks in your one tiny pussy

you can feel jaemin jisung and jeno’s cocks rub against each other inside of you through the thin muscle separating your ass and pussy

haechan getting horny at the park so he just puts u on his lap grinding into you while people walk by, asking you if you think they know he’s fucking you 

jisungie spreading your icky little cunny, watching how his long thick fingers alone can be enough to stretch and fill your tight hole

haechan is a bastard. a true asshole. he’ll pull your pants down, no prep or lube, thrust his cock in your ass, making you scream with so much pain, and your tears just get him off

jaemin walking in on you riding mark and then shoving his cock down your throat, cumming all over your pretty little tits, and then rubbing the cum into your skin like moisturiser

chenle, our mean dom, slapping you till you cry, shoving his fingers down your throat making you gag, all while saying “what a desperate whore” “what would your family think seeing you like this?” 

jisungie having the biggest cock but has no idea what to do with it, too shy to ask you, so he ends up fucking you every night when you’re sleeping, you wake up everyday with his cum spilling down your thighs

going to the gym with jeno and jaemin, spreading your legs open, spreading your pussy for them to see as motivation to finish the workout faster and come devour you

gooner hyuckie loves shoving things in your pretty pussy, loves seeing you whine with the stretch, the bigger the better, be it pens, cans, cucumbers, dildos, he loves seeing you all full for him

passing out after being choked, just to wake up to jeno fucking you roughly into the mattress and jaem pinching and prodding at your tits

chenle filling your squishy walls up with a monster dildo before tying a vibrator to your clit…overstimulating you till you’re crying

hyuck inspecting your cunny in the shower, mark using his fingers to scoop out all of the cum left in your pussy, all while jaemin rubs soap all over your tits, pinching your nipples

jeno slapping you and choking you till you’re a blabbering mess calling you a disgusting whore cuz hes sure you secretly like it

mark guiding you onto jisungs cock, forcing you to take him deeper and deeper, before sliding his own cock next to jisungies, forcing you to take both of them at once…

yall SEND ME ASKSSS!!! any of ur worst disgusting pervy gooner thoughts are more than welcome <3 (also should i make a part 3-)

[sluttyten]

The Devil in Me

Kinktober Day 9 | Haechan Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: loss of virginity, first time, oral sex, marking, biting, possessive/protective Haechan, mentions of human sacrifice, demons, a lot softer/romantic than it sounds

length: 8293

Maybe you should have heeded the warnings of your friends and family, but you’d thought it was all just a bit of small-mindedness and prejudice. 

When you started seeing a guy who was a loud and proud satanist, your friends and family had all told you that he would be bad news. But you’d done some research into the belief system of satanists, and it wasn’t inherently evil, as they all seemed to believe. And you liked this guy, he was charming and handsome and he spoke to you like you were his everything, that you were someone special to him. 

And now, in your present position, you can see that you were in fact someone special to him. 

You were his virgin sacrifice. 

It had been a mistake to tell him that you were a virgin. You could’ve fed him some other excuse for why you didn’t want to have sex, but you’d gone with the truth. And now look where it got you. 

He’d brought you out into the woods on the premise of a night hike, stargazing, camping and keeping each other warm beside a campfire. But now you were strapped to a wooden table in the middle of a circle of fire in the woods, and he was pacing in circles around you, chanting words and drawing symbols on his bare chest in either red paint or some kind of blood. 

He’d already given you the evil villain speech. This was a ritual to summon a demon he’d read about — a chaos demon who could grant him wealth and talent by stealing it from others. He was going to sacrifice you and blah blah blah. You’d stopped listening after a while. The straps on your wrists were so tight that you were losing feeling in your fingertips. Your ankles were tied down too, and you could see no way out of this, resigned to your fate. 

All you know is that if he kills you, you’re going to haunt the shit out of him. 

When he stops his pacing, when the chanting slows, you close your eyes and send a prayer out to anyone listening to save you. 

The asshole teases you with your own death. He trails his hunting knife from your neck down between your breasts, slicing apart your shirt as he goes. 

Your shirt falls open, and he returns the blade to your throat. You refuse to make a sound, you refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you cry out. 

“Look at me!” He yells, his hand gripping your chin. “I want you to watch.”

Your eyes fly open, and you stare this asshole in the eye, putting as much hatred and vitriol in your gaze as you can. 

He grins, trailing the knife lower, and with a flick of his wrist, he gives you a shallow cut just above your left breast. You can see the first drops of your blood well up to the surface. His eyes light up, the chant falling from his lips again as he lifts his hand and the blade, drawing them up into the air over the center of your chest. 

He’s going to plunge it into your heart, that’s something he said during his monologue. 

You suck in a breath, watching his hand, watching the moonlight glint off the blade. 

He swings. 

And a tan hand curls around his wrist, halting the movement. 

“I don’t think so,” a smooth voice says. 

You watch the hand on your would-be murderer’s wrist. The hand guides his, redirecting the path of his blade, and you squeeze your eyes shut as the blade draws across his throat. You try to tune out the wet choking sound as your would-be murderer collapses, as he pulls himself away through the grass and the brush, as he dies the ugly death he would have given to you. 

You open your eyes when you can no longer hear him struggling to survive, and you see before you a beautiful, beautiful demon. 

His eyes glow a deep red. Two black horns stick out from his black hair. Ragged black wings jut out from his shoulders. And he’s beautiful. Devastatingly handsome. 

The summoning ritual worked. 

The fight for survival comes racing back through you, and you jerk against your bonds, crying out, screaming for help. You’ll not have your soul taken by a demon. That’s not happening tonight!

“Don’t be afraid,” he says calmly, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

With a wave of his hand, the bonds on your wrists snap, your ankles suddenly are freed as well. You sit up, clutching at the sides of your shirt to pull them together over your chest. The demon looks at you, and then turns his head to the side towards where you last heard that bastard's dying breaths fade away. 

“Some humans are real assholes, yknow?” The demon says, still not looking at you. “They think we all want sacrifices, which, don’t get me wrong, they can be nice from time to time, but we don’t demand the murder of virgins. We certainly don’t demand unwilling pretty women be murdered in the woods.”

He spits towards what you can only assume is the dead body of your would-be murderer. And then the demon looks back at you, eyes aglow. 

“I’m Haechan,” he introduces himself, holding his hand out to you. “But you can call me Donghyeok.” 

You hesitate for a moment, uncertain if you should give him your name or shake his hand. You feel like you’ve heard stories about how bad doing either of those things could be. But in the end, it’s the way that the corner of his mouth tilts up as he watches you that convinces you. 

You put your hand in his, and you give him your name. 

Donghyeok lifts your hand, brushing his lips across your knuckles. “Pleased to have saved you.” 

Your pulse throbs in your veins, pounding in your ears. 

An actual demon is holding your hand, standing before you smelling like sea air and citrus rather than the burning brimstone stories would have you believe. Donghyeok lowers your hand, and you pull it back into your lap. 

“That guy seemed like a dick.” Donghyeok turns away, shaking his wings as he walks over to the nearest flickering ground torch. He continues talking while he extinguishes that torch, saying, “Very bossy in his summoning chant. I probably would’ve ended up killing him even if he wasn’t trying to murder you. How did you end up here, anyway?”

“I was stupid.” You droop forward, hanging your head as you look down at your knees. “I let him trick me into thinking he was a good guy despite all the warnings from everyone around me. I thought they were just prejudiced since he was a Satanist, but they were right.” You risk a glance in Donghyeok’s direction. “I shouldn’t have ever told him I’m a virgin, I was basically just asking to get sacrificed in a demonic ritual.”

Donghyeok’s wings flare as he turns to look at you. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever blame yourself for the actions of a stupid man. He is the one that did this, not you.” 

He extinguishes two more torches before either of you speak again. 

“Virgin sacrifices don’t actually mean, like sexual virginity, yknow?” Donghyeok says, his back facing you while he puts out another torch. Now only four of them remain lit in the circle. “It’s virgin blood. Blood that’s never been used for a ritual before. As soon as he cut you, I felt the call, and I saw what he was going to do to you. I’m tired of men killing women with the excuse of summoning me. I just require a few drops of blood to be spilled, not a life taken.”

Donghyeok waves his wings, and three more torches flicker out, leaving just one glowing right in front of you, providing just enough light to see by as Donghyeok strides back to you. His bloody red eyes sweep over you from head to toe. 

“What are you going to do to me?” You can tell your voice is small, nearly lost in the whisper of wind through the trees. But Donghyeok hears, and he cocks his head slightly to the side to watch you. 

“Haven’t you been listening?” He reaches up, snapping his fingers together and drawing a handkerchief out of thin air. “I’m not here to do anything to you. I came to rescue you from that asshole, and now you’re free.” He holds the handkerchief out to you. 

“So you’re just going to leave me here?” You accept the silky white cloth, and you find one corner of it embroidered with flowy script — LDH, it says, and you run your thumb over the fine threads making up the letters. 

“I didn’t say I was leaving you.” He smiles, and again, your pulse thunders. “We can go, or we can stay here and have sex.”

A squawk of surprise and indignation leaves you, which makes Donghyeok laugh. And fuck, you thought he was beautiful before, the sight and sound of his genuine laughter makes him even more beautiful. 

“I’m joking!” He keeps laughing, his shoulders shaking as he tries to hold it in while he speaks, “But I can get you out of here in a snap so you don’t have to hike back through these woods in the dark.” 

“Please!” You reach out, grabbing both of his hands, holding them between yours. “Please, get me out of here.”

Donghyeok’s expression goes serious. “I will, I promise. And what about him?” 

You begin to turn your head to look, but you change your mind, keeping your gaze fixed on this beautiful demon. You shake your head. “Leave him. The police can deal with him, I’ll report the crime when I get back to town.”

Donghyeok watches you for a moment, contemplating something. Then he shrugs, holds tighter to your hands, and you feel a tug behind your navel. 

The scenery around you has changed.

You’re still in the woods, but just at the edge of it. You can see the lights of town just ahead through the trunks. 

“Here, let’s at least make it look like you’ve run back here.” Donghyeok crouches down, filling his hand with soft dirt. “May I?”

You’re not entirely sure what you’re agreeing to, but you nod. Immediately, Donghyeok is touching you, spreading dirt over your clothes, a smear of mud along the torn open edge of your shirt. He runs his fingers through your hair (which shouldn’t feel as good as it does). He plucks some twigs and leaves, sticking them haphazardly in your hair, dangling from a new rip at the bottom of your shirt. 

He takes a step back to appreciate his handiwork, then nods, satisfied. 

You both stand there looking at each other for a moment, and finally you say, “Thank you.”

Donghyeok nods. “You didn’t deserve what that asshole was going to do to you. None of them ever do deserve it. He, however, deserved everything he got, and everything he’s going to get when I get back to Hell.”

“Thank you,” you repeat because you mean it, and there are no words more genuine that you can think to say. “Really, Donghyeok, thank you.”

You turn towards the lights of town. You’re going to the police, filing a report, making sure they know that that bastard tried to kill you, and he's the reason he’s dead. 

“One thing before you go!” Donghyeok steps in front of you. You look up at him just as he reaches out and puts his hand on your right shoulder. His hand burns hot and then hotter through your shirt, and you hiss in pain, trying to draw away, but Donghyeok holds on, only releasing you once the pain begins to fade into a tingle. 

“That’s all. See you around.”

And then the demon disappears into a shadowy mist. 

You stand there for a moment before you pull yourself back together, and you walk into town, straight for the police station. 

They believe the story, which is good since most of it is true. Only part of it is fictionalized: when you say that you managed to slip the bonds he’d had on your wrists, the part where you wrestled the knife from him, where you’d cut him across the throat and then run miles back to town through the woods. But the story is believable because the facts and evidence are all there — the police trek through the woods and find the site of the ritual, find his body, find a blade that somehow has your fingerprints; they find plans in his apartment, records of messages between him and others, of his search history on how to summon a demon and how to perform a virgin sacrifice. 

When you finally leave the police station, returning home under the care of your family and friends, you finally get a moment to yourself in the shower. 

You peel off your pants and socks, drag your shirt over your head, slip off your panties and bra, and then you look at yourself in the mirror. 

Black inky lines that weren’t there before these events are there now. You twist, angling better towards the mirror to be able to see what appears to be a whole tattoo that you never got. 

A sunflower curves from front to back over your shoulder and down onto your arm. 

You brush your fingers over the petals, feeling your skin tingle in a not unpleasant way. It sends a curl of warmth into your belly, makes your heart pound. 

It’s Donghyeok, you know it is. 

This is his mark, left on you. 

The next time you see him, it’s too brief for your liking. 

There’s a street festival, sort of like a carnival in town, and you spend hours down there one day as afternoon turns to evening turns to night. It brings all the weirdos out, from your town and those surrounding. You stick close to your friends, you have fun, you spend too much money on greasy food and rigged carnival games, you flirt with a cute carnie to get the big stuffed teddy bear prize. 

Your friends decide to ride the Ferris wheel, but your mild fear of heights and the lure of a big pink cloud of cotton candy call to you instead. You’ll stay here feet firmly on the ground, enjoying your cotton candy, and watching them take a turn on the giant wheel. 

But first you have to find the cotton candy booth. 

You’re carrying your teddy prize like it’s a toddler, hoisted up to sit on your hip. You’re still rather pleased with yourself for having flirted it out of the carnie, even though you’re not quite sure what you’re going to do with it, and carrying it around for the rest of the night is possibly going to become a bit of a hindrance. 

You cut between two game booths, slipping into the shadowed path that runs along the backs of the games, like an alley between the ring toss games facing one way and the basketball and shooting games facing the other. The cotton candy booth is visible at the end. 

You have to step over wires, bags of vacuum-sealed prizes, a crate that’s surrounded by cigarette butts. The dings and chimes, alarm sounds and cries of joy all sound muffled, leaving you feeling a bit apart from the carnival despite being right in the heart of it. 

A figure melts out of the shadows, suddenly keeping perfect stride with you. 

You gasp, twisting around with the bear between you and this shadow-born devil. 

“Me again,” Donghyeok laughs. 

He’s got his hands tucked into his pockets. The devil horns are concealed by a hood. He’s wearing a leather jacket that has black wings stitched into the back panel. He could pass for normal, you think as your heart settles back into a more normal rhythm, if only his eyes weren’t still a deep red with his pupils reflecting light like an animal’s eyes at night. 

“Donghyeok.” You almost collapse against the back of one of the game tents. 

His lips curl around the sound of your name. You like the sound of that — his voice, your name. 

You just stand there staring at him for a moment, amazed that he’s actually here. In the days after your near-sacrifice, you’d almost convinced yourself that Donghyeok had been nothing more than a figment of your imagination used to soften the trauma of that night a little. But here he is again. Real. In the flesh. 

“Are you keeping out of trouble?” He asks, and when you nod, he scoffs. “But you’re back here walking by yourself? Do you know what kinds of people are drawn to work these carnivals? The transient lifestyle calls to some pretty awful people.” He turns to look back along the path you’ve been walking in this makeshift alleyway. 

Several feet back, there’s a slumped over figure where there hadn’t been before. And the longer you look, the more you realize it’s that cute carnie that had given you the bear.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got your back.” Donghyeok pats your right shoulder, his skin hot against yours. “You should get back to your friends before they start worrying. Here, this is for you.” 

Out of thin air, he draws a large fluffy pink cotton candy, holding it out to you. 

Donghyeok escorts you back towards your friends, and he blends in with the crowd, looking perfectly human except for his eyes. His shoulder bumps against yours. He chatters and laughs with you. You find it so curious the way that your heart skips each time you look at him. 

Hours later, once you’re safely ensconced at home, you notice that the center of your sunflower marking on your shoulder is darker than it used to be, almost like you’d gotten it shaded in. 

Donghyeok again, you’re sure. 

You recall his hand on your shoulder, the gentle but pleasant burn of his skin on yours. 

You turn your head, resting your cheek against your shoulder. The center of the sunflower is warm against your cheek. 

A few weeks later, you’re certain your family thinks you’re crazy. You’ve not seen Donghyeok again since that night at the carnival, and honestly, you’re beginning to feel very Bella Swan in New Moon about the situation. You’re about to start throwing yourself into harm’s way just to see if Donghyeok will make an appearance to save you; although, you have a strong suspicion that if he knew you were doing dangerous things intentionally, he would make a point of not showing up. 

So, instead of trying to cross paths with dangerous men (again), you decide to go to the library and local bookstores and pull any books you can find on how to summon a demon. You do research online, printing out pages and pages of summoning rituals. You’ve got a whole wall of your bedroom dedicated to the stuff.

“There is something very wrong with you,” your dad says one afternoon when he sees it all. “You survived that satanist dick. Why would you put yourself through this?”

You’re pretty sure your family and friends think you’re doing this to torture yourself. You can tell they’re all worried for you, all of them concerned about what path you’re taking.

But you’re not diving headfirst into satanism or anything like that really. You just want to summon one demon in particular – a chaos demon named Haechan who has asked you personally to call him Donghyeok.

You seek out a different ritual than the one performed when you first met him. You don’t want to have to sacrifice a virgin even if it only means a few drops of voluntary blood; that veers too close to the sacrifice you’d almost found yourself to be in the woods. 

Eventually, you find a source online that suggests a few specific crystals, certain herbs, fire and chalk and a spell in a language that you’ll have to teach yourself. But it seems doable. You just have to find a shop for all of those things, and then you’ll summon Donghyeok. You just want to see him again. You’re drawn to him, and maybe it’s because he saved you so you’ve got some weird type of twist on Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe it’s this sunflower he marked on your shoulder, the roots it’s put down inside you making you want to see him more and more, thirsting for him like a desert plant in a drought. 

You find a shop perfectly suited to your needs. The woman running the place seems quirky enough that you don’t have any qualms about telling her everything — what you’re looking for, how you’re going to use it, why you’re using it — and you’re obsessed with the gleeful twinkle in her eye as she dances around the shop, gathering the items you’ve listed, plucking them from dark corners, from a bay of windows, from bunches of herbs hanging from the ceiling. 

“I do have to warn you,” she says as she carefully packs it all into a bag for you, her voice dipping towards a serious tone to say, “Some demons are always listening for a call, even if it’s not for them, especially when it’s a pretty girl like you calling with almost no taint in your blood. Just know, dear, that when you call for your demon, someone else might try reaching through. So be careful when you speak the spell. Clear pronunciation, clear focus and determination.”

She pats your hand tenderly before you leave, and she wishes you well. 

You set up the ritual in your bedroom. You push all the furniture out of the center of the room, roll back the rug that usually covers the floor beneath your bed. You sketch out the symbols in chalk on the hardwood floor, you set up the crystals exactly according to the diagram on the website, placing candles exactly right too. You scatter herbs across the pentagram, sprinkle a few in a bowl set in the center of the ritual space, and finally you kneel beside it. 

You clear your mind except for thoughts of Donghyeok, your wish to have him in front of you, and you begin speaking the words you’ve been practicing since you found them. 

Before, they’ve felt like hollow words, but now as they fall from your lips there’s a new weight to them. 

You continue, keeping your mind set, and you strike a match, watch the flame flicker and wave as you continue speaking the spell, the foreign words feeling strange on your lips and tongue, creating a tingle that makes you feel that this must be working, that you’ll be able to see Donghyeok again. 

You drop the match into the bowl of crushed herbs in the center of the pentagram. The bowl is instantly engulfed in flame, the heat kissing your cheeks, and the final words of the spell incinerate in the air, the flames crackling and flashing a solid purple for a moment. 

You feel the air from the room disappear as the fire swirls and sparks, as the candle flames around the circle shoot up elongated and casting shadows. The crystals crack and shimmer.

And when it all falls away, when the flame in the bowl extinguishes and the candles resume their normal flame size, you look up at the demon standing above you. 

It’s not him. 

You gasp, falling back on your hands. 

The demon is fearsome, brutish. He reaches for you, gnarled red fingers clawed with filthy talons. You scramble backwards as he grabs for your sleeve, tearing the fabric when you jerk backwards. 

Suddenly the demon releases you and stands straight within the pentagram. 

“Haechan’s mark?” He utters in a garbled, deep voice straight from the pits of Hell. “You are under Haechan’s protection?”

A sharp whistle from across your bedroom draws your attention and that of the hideous demon in front of you. 

Donghyeok sits on your bed, looking relaxed as ever. He cocks his head to the side, staring down this other demon. “That’s right. She’s under my protection, so get the fuck out.”

Donghyeok flicks his fingers, and the other demon vanishes in a wave of smoke and embers. 

You can’t look away from Donghyeok lounging on your bed like it’s his throne. He’s wearing that leather jacket again, though right now his devil horns are visible poking through his dark hair. You’ve missed looking at him. 

He looks at you now too. “You called?”

“I wanted to see you,” you tell truthfully. 

“Why?” Donghyeok asks, not moving from the bed, just sitting there and watching you. 

“Well why did you mark me?” You lift your fingers to the flower on your shoulder, brushing your fingers over the petals. 

Across the room, Donghyeok’s eyelids flutter, and he rolls his head on his neck a little as if to relieve tension. “I marked you because I want you to be safe. I knew if any other demons saw my mark on you, they would leave you alone, as just evidenced.” He gestures at the pentagram. “And because I wanted you to have something to remember me by. And I like the thought of you wearing a memory of me.”

You stroke the petals of the flower again, and Donghyeok sits up on the edge of your bed, sitting forward. 

“The flower changed the last time I saw you.” You draw your finger up to the center, darker now than it had been when Donghyeok first marked you the night you met. “The center has color now.”

“I know.” He leans forward, but doesn’t leave your bed, though he seems to just be hanging onto the very edge of it. He doesn’t explain more, just looks at you as if waiting for more. 

You climb to your feet, picking your way through the candles and crystals and herbs, and you come to stand just in front of Donghyeok. He raises his gaze to your face, his hands are planted on either side of his thighs, and he doesn’t say a word as you reach out a hand, as you first touch his cheek with just your fingertips, and then you move them along his jaw, up into his hair. 

Donghyeok’s eyes flutter shut, a sigh falls from his lips. 

Your fingers find his horns, and gently you run your fingers along them both. 

His hands fly to your hips, a breath catching audibly in his throat. “What are you doing?” He asks, voice tight but not in a way like he wants you to stop. 

“You’re beautiful, Donghyeok,” you can’t resist saying, “And you’ve marked me, so maybe I want to return the favor.”

Donghyeok’s lips draw into a smirk. “Mark me how? Who are you trying to show that I’m yours?”

Your heart thunders, heat racing through your body at the sound of that. I’m yours, he said. “Say it again,” you demand. 

“Say what?” Donghyeok’s eyes open at last, flicking open and lifting to meet your gaze. “That marking me would show others that I’m yours? That I belong to you in some way?” His hands tighten in your hips pleasantly, and you shuffle a little more forward into the V of his open thighs. Donghyeok smiles up at you, saying, “Baby, you’re mine. And you have been since the night we met, since I put my mark on your shoulder. It’s only fair that you put a claim on me too. Do your worst.”

Challenge burns in his red eyes, and heat flows through you, rivers of fire that all lead to one point, settling low in your belly — a pool of burning need that you’ve never felt with anyone else before. 

With your fingers still in Donghyeok’s hair, you tip his head back. His lips pull into a wider grin, a soft sound of amusement, and then, “I forgot, baby, you’re a virgin. Are you intimidated by the thought of marking me?”

“No,” you groan. “Shut up.” 

You push Donghyeok’s shoulders, and he flops onto his back in your bed. 

God, he just looks like a guy, any normal guy that you might have found and invited back to your bed. And you’ve had a man in your bed before. You’ve had make out sessions, had heated heavy petting that never led anywhere. You’ve had hickeys, and given out your fair share of them too. 

But Donghyeok is Donghyeok. There’s definitely something intimidating about the confident way he’s looking at you, the sexy look in his eye as he watches you — not just a look that says that he knows he’s sexy, but even more arousing is that the look in his eyes tells you that he finds you incredibly sexy. 

You sink onto your bed on your knees, straddling the demon’s lap. Donghyeok lifts his hands up, interlacing his fingers behind his head as he watches you, and the expression on his face is just stoking that fire inside of you. 

“Can you sit up?” You ask. “Take your jacket off?”

“Mm,” Donghyeok hums. “I like when you tell me what to do.”

Your belly swoops, and his grin widens. 

He sits up, and you find his smile just inches in front of you. He shrugs out of his jacket, pushing it off the bed, and then he’s sitting here beneath you in a plain white tee, the denim of his jeans rubs against your thighs. And he’s right here. Right here. Lips just in front of you, and your hands drift back to touch him, to feel the warmth and breadth of his shoulders, and then your thumbs are sweeping in to trace over his Adam’s apple, which bobs when he swallows and breathes in sharply. Your fingers slide around to the nape of his neck, just pushing into his hair, and Donghyeok makes a noise so quiet yet so filled with desire. 

You’ve been sitting here watching the path of your hands, but now you look at his lips so full and moist in front of you. And then you look just a bit higher to his eyes. 

Perhaps the demonic bloody red of them should scare you, but they don’t. They stare into yours and you can’t bring yourself to give a damn about the fact that Donghyeok is a demon and not just a man. 

That doesn’t matter to you one bit when you finally press your lips to his. 

Donghyeok immediately kisses you back, opening up to your kiss, but he lets you take the lead, lets you do what you want with him. He moans when you push your hands higher into his hair at the back of his head, moans when you suck on his tongue, moans when you press your chest against his. 

You moan when his hands finally find your hips again. Donghyeok drags your hips across the front of his pants, and you break the kiss to let out a shuddery moan. 

“Okay?” He murmurs, lips falling down to your jaw, leaving butterfly kisses along the underside. 

“Yes,” you sigh, “Do it again.”

Donghyeok drags you over his crotch again, rolling his hips up too, and you can feel him then, his erection beginning to press against the front of his jeans. He does it again and again, and after a few moments, you pick up the rhythm, taking over as you simulate riding him, and you bring his mouth back onto yours. 

Again, Donghyeok is happy to let you lead, to control what’s happening. 

He just touches you without pushing you, kisses you at the pace you set, although that doesn’t mean he’s a passive participant in all of this. He’s reacting and vocal, occasionally nipping at your bottom lip, occasionally bucking his hips out of rhythm with your moves. It’s like he’s giving you little peeks into his desire for you, moments when his cool demon facade slips. 

Donghyeok moans when you leave his mouth behind to instead kiss his neck. His hands come to rest on your ass while you keep rolling and grinding down on his straining erection, and you’re feeling the tightening in your belly, you know if you don’t stop soon you’re going to cum like this. But it wouldn’t be the first time. You’ve had boyfriends and casual relationships before that respected your virginity, that had been content with things like this, found it hot to cum when fully clothed. 

Donghyeok seems to be in the same mindset. 

His golden skin beneath your lips is hot, and he moans your name again and again, rolling his hips up to meet each downward push of yours. You rock your hips more frantically, losing control as your orgasm rises. You bite at his throat as you cum, and Donghyeok’s hands on your ass keep you moving, keeping up with the push and pull of your pussy grinding over his erection. 

Your body is still tingling as you roll off of him, as you lie down in your bed and pull him over you. “More,” you demand, “I want more.”

“Are you sure?” The demon above you asks. 

You crave more from him. Donghyeok has you hotter than any man ever has before. 

He kisses you without warning, jolting forward and sweeping you into a dramatic, hungry kiss. You want him, and you pour that desire into the kiss, impatient and horny for him to give you more. 

You don’t wait for Donghyeok to start undressing you, you reach down and unfasten your shorts, maneuvering them off your hips and down your legs. The shirt’s a bit more difficult to rid yourself of, but Donghyeok obligingly breaks the kiss to let you pull it over your head, and while you’re in this position with space between you, you reach for the hem of his shirt. 

“Can I?” You ask, tucking your fingers beneath the hem. “I want to have all of you.”

Donghyeok’s eyes flash flaming red. His voice is rough with emotion when he says simply, “Yes.”

You drag his shirt over his head without another moment wasted. And then your hands are back in his hair, stroking the curve of his horns as Donghyeok crushes his mouth to yours again. 

Donghyeok grinds against your thigh while the two of you make out, and you have to pull one of your hands from his hair, seeking out one of his hands to pull down between your legs. 

You’ve been touched like this before too. Over the panties, an ex rubbing your clit and stroking along your slit with the thin fabric between you and him. You’d managed a weak, unsatisfactory orgasm from it after a drawn out attempt, and decided to end things with him a few days later citing that you just didn’t feel the chemistry. 

But presently, the moment Donghyeok’s fingers make contact with your clit over your panties, your brain is buzzing. Every nerve ending in your body is alert. 

Donghyeok kisses you through every gasp and sigh. He smiles when you whine and buck your hips, when you circle your hips and grab at his wrist to guide his fingers towards your wet entrance, to the spot where your panties are absolutely soaked through. He kisses the corner of your mouth, and teases, “Do you want me to continue?”

You push away your panties, almost tearing them in your rush to be rid of them. 

This much you’ve never done before. Never done penetration even with a man’s fingers. 

Whether Donghyeok can read that in you, or if he sees the slight anxious anticipation in your gaze, he tenderly kisses your lips, sufficiently distracting you as he slicks his fingers against your bare pussy. This is a first for you too. Bare fingers and bare pussy, slick wetness making the glide so much easier and more pleasant. 

Donghyeok kisses you and touches you until you’re whimpering, reaching for his wrist. “Inside me, put them inside me,” you beg, urging his hand lower. 

It doesn’t make sense for a demon to be so gentle, but he is. Donghyeok eases first a single finger inside you, then another. He leaves your lips to kiss down your throat and chest, kissing lower and lower, drawing down your body until his mouth is right there and he licks your clit. 

You’re not sure if it’s just the experience of oral sex or if it’s because it’s Donghyeok, but your entire body lights up as he licks your clit, as he thrusts his fingers into you again. He takes his time with you, filling you with his fingers, curling them inside you and brushing a spot that makes you gasp, body jerking at the incredible sensation. 

Donghyeok laughs, delighted by how you’re reacting. He kisses your hips and your belly, slowly works his way back up, and you swear it feels like he kisses every part of you. His fingers press inside your pussy, slow thrusts until you’re begging for more, raking your fingers through his hair while he’s kissing your belly. Your fingers find his horns, and you use them like handles to guide his head back down. 

He’s laughing still, thoroughly enjoying you taking control, guiding him to where you want him. 

You arch your back, rolling your hips down against his face as Donghyeok sucks your clit between his lips, his fingers suddenly fucking into you at a faster speed, skilled at touching you exactly right. 

A second orgasm sweeps through you, and you ride it out on his face and fingers. 

When you push at Donghyeok’s devil horns, he backs off, kneeling up between your legs, and he gazes down at you while he licks his lips, and brings his fingers up to his mouth. You can’t look away, completely enraptured as he licks between his fingers, as he sucks them into his mouth. His eyes are hot, raking over your body. 

You want him bad. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Donghyeok asks, pulling his fingers out of his mouth. His hand drifts down to the front of his pants, and you watch him give himself a squeeze. “Looking like you want to eat me, baby.”

You want to take a bite out of him. Well, you at least can’t fight the urge to bite him, to leave the imprint of your teeth in the curve of his shoulder, to bite his neck again since he’d seemed to like that earlier. You don’t want to eat him, but you sure want to take all of him, to have this devil inside you. 

Donghyeok slides the heel of his palm along his clothed erection, and you decide right then in that moment that you’ve had enough of waiting. 

“I’m ready,” you tell him. 

Donghyeok blinks, and again he looks more human than demon. “Ready? Like for… for sex?”

You nod. 

“You want to lose your virginity with me?” Donghyeok clarifies. You nod, but that’s still not enough for him. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Donghyeok, please will you have sex with me. I’m ready to let go of the idea of my virginity. I’m ready to have sex, and I want it to be with you.” Can you be more clear?

Yes, you’ve waited a long time for this. You’ve picked and chosen, selecting this actual demon over some normal men. But despite Donghyeok’s demonhood, he’s treated you better and been more considerate than any of the men you’ve come close to considering doing this with before. You’ve just been waiting for the right man to come along, and the right man in this case just happens to be a horny, red-eyed demon. 

Donghyeok kisses you once again, and then he waits, holding just above you until you reach up and pull him back in. He’s smiling when you kiss him, and again, he lets you take over, lets you touch him and do what you want. So when you run your hands along his ribs, when your fingertips reach the waistband of his jeans, Donghyeok just moans happily. 

His hands join yours in the effort to push his pants down, and the demon above you laughs delightfully, kissing you thoroughly making you forget the slight nerves you feel at the prospect of finally doing this, finally having sex, instead you’re just excited, just laughing and moaning along with him. 

As soon as Donghyeok’s pants are slid down and kicked off, you reach for his dick, touching him the way an ex-boyfriend of yours had liked. He’d always told you to make it all about him, taught you to do things the way that he liked. 

“Wait,” Donghyeok says, “You don’t have to do all that. I’m already worked up for you, baby. You may think being a demon comes with supernatural endurance or something, but in this I’m no better than a human man. You’re gorgeous, and that makes me want to just…” He cuts himself off by kissing you, but you think you get what he means. 

He finds you beautiful, and not only that, but beautiful enough that he feels at risk of cumming too fast if you keep touching him before he’s inside you. 

“Then fuck me.” You whisper the words to his lips. “Take me as a virgin sacrifice, Donghyeok. Like I was meant to be.”

Donghyeok scoffs, kissing you again and then he’s moving. His hand brushes yours away from his dick, and he rolls his hips forward, pressing the tip against your entrance without actually entering you. 

“Are you sure?”

“I find it beyond charming that you’re a polite, gentlemanly chaos demon, Donghyeok. Yes, I’m sure.” You shift your hips, circling them down, and Donghyeok’s dick sinks in. 

He keeps going, pressing in deeper. He’s watching your face, and you hold his gaze while you adjust to the full feeling, the different feeling of having something this thick and deep inside you. Not a bad feeling, just a different kind. 

“Don’t stop!” You gasp when Donghyeok just goes still inside you. 

He holds himself above you, just looking down at you with this expression and all of these emotions in his red eyes. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, lifting a hand up to cover his eyes, but it does nothing to block his radiant smile. “Are you gonna move or just dock yourself in me?”

Donghyeok laughs again, and you’re quickly realizing that’s your favorite sound. “Maybe I’m taking in your virgin sacrifice,” he teases, “Doing my demon thing.”

“Right, sure. But can you hurry up with your demon thing?” You move your hand from his eyes, pushing your fingers into his hair to find his horns again. Donghyeok shudders with pleasure as you stroke your fingers over the ridges on one horn and then the other. “You’re not acting very demonic, you know. Treating me all gently and tenderly.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’d rather I bend you into strange shapes and fuck you hard and rough for your first time?” Donghyeok pulls his hips back and pushes back in roughly. It stings a bit, but you don’t mind all that much. And then he does it again. “Like this?”

“Sure,” you whimper, “Fuck me like you’ve done to all the other girls you’ve ever fucked.”

Donghyeok simply kisses you, getting you to melt beneath his lips, and then he moves again, thrusting into you. You gasp into the kiss, and Donghyeok takes advantage of that to deepen the kiss, making out with you as he fucks you, his dick reaching places that you didn’t even realize existed. He’s got your legs spread wide, his hips crashing against you repeatedly, drawing pretty moans from you with each thrust against your sweet spot. 

And once you get used to this new sensation of having a dick inside you, you really enjoy it. Donghyeok’s tongue being down your throat helps a bit too, his skill with kissing is definitely distracting you from the less pleasant sensations. 

Your whole body tingles each time that Donghyeok buries himself to the hilt in you. He grinds forward, stimulating your clit, externally and internally. He touches your boobs, but that doesn’t do a whole lot for you. You keep your hands in his hair, on his horns, and that seems to drive him mad with lust; each time you’ve got your fingers on his black devil horns, Donghyeok jerks, fucking into you a little harder, a little out of control. 

It’s one of those times that you’ve got a hand curled around one of his horns, your other hand cradling the back of his neck as Donghyeok kisses your collarbones, that he moans so beautifully for you. “Fuck,” he moans, “I want to give you everything, baby. Everything I’ve got, all for you.”

You want it, whatever that means. Whatever Donghyeok has, you’ll take it. 

A moment later, he cums, heat flooding your belly, sticky and slick as he pulls out, streaking it across your inner thighs and your pussy. 

“Everything, baby,” he murmurs, kissing along your collarbone to your right shoulder. He rolls his hips forward, filling you with his dick once more right as he kisses the sunflower mark he gave you that first night. 

Fire ignited throughout your body, pleasure and desire tangling together, ramping up higher and higher. Your climax tears through you like a wildfire, and Donghyeok fucks you through it, hips driving against yours; his teeth dig against your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the bitemark. You can only hold onto him, hold tighter, keep moving your body with his to keep the waves of pleasure coming. 

Even once you’re coming down from your orgasm, your whole body is still tingling and warm. Donghyeok is all but stuck to you, both of you are all sweaty so your skin sticks together. His lips press to the sunflower mark he left on you, his hands slide against your ribs, leaving a hot tingle deep under your skin, and you have a feeling he’s leaving another mark, another claim or protection. 

You can’t get a good look at the marks he’s left on you, but you can feel them all – the warmth of the sunflower on your shoulder, which you’re pretty sure looks a bit more yellow in the petals now than it did earlier; there are the hickeys and bitemarks Donghyeok left on you; now these new marks on your ribs, which look like a swirl of small inky spots that are resolving into anything familiar, and on the other side you swear it’s a fine-line rendition of the sun. 

You wish you could do the same and leave a mark on him, more than the sparse hickeys you left on his throat earlier. 

For right now, you settle for just holding him. You wrap your arms around him, and Donghyeok tucks his face into your shoulder, moaning softly as he rolls onto his side, bringing you with him. Your legs are still tangled, bodies pressed together, his dick still inside you though he’s gone soft. 

“Call me crazy,” Donghyeok whispers to you, “I know we’ve only met twice before tonight, but I feel like we have a really good connection. I like you.”

Your heart races at the confession. “I like you too.”

You feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “Good. I’d hate for you to have just given up your virginity on a guy you don’t even like. A demon, at that.”

“It doesn’t bother me that you’re a demon yknow. You’re more decent than most of the guys I’ve known.” You trace your fingers down Donghyeok’s back, feeling two long angled scars by his shoulder blades, like that’s where his wings come and go from. “If anything, I don’t understand why a demon is interested in me.”

Donghyeok lifts his head, and he looks you in the eye as he says, “I told you earlier. You’re gorgeous, and the moment that asshole tried to sacrifice you to me, I caught a glimpse of your soul. You’re a pure soul, so utterly good that it pains me to look at you with all the layers peeled back, but not in a bad way. It hurts me the way it hurts to look at something you aspire toward; looking at you is like looking at the stars and knowing that you’ll never be able to hold one in your hand.”

But his hands are on you now. 

His fingers trace over your ribs, and you can tell by the tingle now that he’s definitely left a new mark on you. 

You take up his hand, pulling it up to your lips, and you place a kiss in the center of his palm. And when you look at his face, you see right there on his cheek that maybe. He’s closer to holding the stars than he thinks. You trace the constellation of moles on his cheek and down his throat, so similar to one that you see in the night sky. 

Donghyeok leans his cheek into your hand, and he holds you a little closer. He presses his forehead to yours. 

The candles behind you on the floor have burned down to nothing but puddles of cooling wax. The herbs and crystals and chalk symbols can be picked up and wiped away in the morning. But for tonight, you hold a demon in your arms, completely at ease in his warm embrace.

a/n: I'm sorry for the long wait on this one! Day 9 is finally being posted on Day 11, which has definitely put me behind, and is making me reconsider my decision to do this for this month. But I really liked writing this one! I've been very Haechan-biased since The Dream Show 3, so I needed to write this tbh.

If you notice any errors or if you feel I should include some more tags/content warnings, please let me know!

I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

[eliasoir]

֗ ꫂ BIRTHDAY GIFTS ⠀── L. DONGHYUCK !

✸ ︎⠀⠀ .bf!haechan x f!reader ! ⏜💬 ℯven on his special day, haechan only wants one thing. and that is to please you . . . smut ( MDNI 18+ ) 𓂃 dom!haechan , nipple play , spit play , oral (f. rec) , unprotected sex (pls don’t do this) , fingering , teasing , cursing , pet names , dirty talk . wc 1.1k

୭౿ REBLOG FOR A HUG !

right when it hits midnight on june sixth, you crawl over on top of your boyfriend. straddling his hips, you kiss down his chest with the sweetest smile.

“happy birthday, baby,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth, then trailing lower, lips brushing his neck, his collarbone. “let me take care of you tonight.”

haechan just smirks. his eyes low, one hand lazily palming your thigh. “mm, baby…it’s my birthday. don’t you think i deserve to have my way tonight?” you knew exactly what he was hinting at.

you laugh softly, dipping your head to suck lightly at his skin, tongue swiping along the spot. “but, you deserve to feel good.”

“i will, baby,” he hums before flipping you onto your back before you can stop him. his lips find yours, passionate and messy. “but you know me…”

his hand slides under your shirt (thankful you weren’t wearing a bra), thumb grazing your nipple until it hardens beneath his touch. his voice drops, all teasing gone.

“the best gift you could give me is you.”

you shiver as he mouths at your chest through your thin tank top, mouth warm and eager. “give the birthday boy what he wants. hm?” and so you did.

haechan’s mouth was and still is everywhere.

your chest, your neck, the soft underside of your boobs. he’s been sucking and licking and moaning like he’s the one being touched. which he should’ve been — it was his birthday. but he insisted on seeing you become a fucked out mess because of him. he had always been a pleaser, but you hadn’t expected it today, of all possible days.

“so fucking soft,” he murmurs, lips brushing your nipple before his tongue circles it in slow, teasing swirls. “been thinking about these all day.”

he flattens his tongue and licks up, just enough pressure to make your breath hitch, and that smug smile he gives you in return makes your stomach flip.

“so fucking pretty.” his hands cup them, thumb brushing over your nipples again. and he stars, practically drools over how they look. how they harden under his touch.

“gonna spend my birthday right here,” he whispers, and then spits, a slick dribble cascading down the curve of one breast. “fuck—look at that. so messy.”

“baby,” you whisper, hands in his hair. “please—”

he hums against you. “please what, pretty girl?”

his mouth follows the trail, licking it up slowly, sucking the nipple back into his mouth with a satisfied groan. you whimper, your thighs pressing together. of course, he notices.

“aw, baby,” he murmurs, tongue flicking. “aching for me already?”

his hand moves between your thighs before you can answer, sliding under your panties like he owns you. because right now, he definitely does.

and then he feels how wet you are. “fucking hell,” he groans. “all this for your birthday boy?”

two fingers press inside you without warning, curling instantly. his palm presses heavy against your needy clit and your head falls back, a small cry slipping out.

“hyuck—!”

“that’s it,” he coos, lips still on your chest, working you open with that slow, filthy precision. “told you i’d take care of you tonight. let me, baby. please.”

he slides down your body, breath warm over your dripping cunt, and kisses your inner thigh softly.

discarding his fingers from you, he spreads your thighs more and settles in like it’s his favorite place to be. “you’re dripping,” he whispers, breath fanning on your pussy. “you that needy for me, hm?”

your hips jerk at his words alone, and then he’s spitting again. this time, right on your clit, watching the bead of saliva roll before he licks you clean.

your moan is instant. high-pitched and desperate. “fuck—fuck, hyuck, more—” he knew he had you exactly where he wanted you.

he groans lowly. “say it again.”

“need more. need you everywhere.”

he pushes two fingers back into you in one smooth motion, curling them up just right, lips wrapping around your clit like he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

and not once did he ease up or give you time to breathe. not even when you’re trying to pull away, too sensitive, thighs clamping around his head.

“you’re not done,” he murmurs, licking up your puffy pussy. “you think i’m letting you off that easy?”

his fingers fuck into you harder. his thumb on your clit, using more pressure now, making your back arch right off the bed.

“you like when i play with you like this,” he pants. “like being my messy little thing. my messy girl. shit, baby—i’d spend hours right here.”

you come hard with his name falling off your tongue, shaking fully as he kisses the inside of your thighs sweetly. finally letting you breathe.

but not for long. he pulls you up off the bed. grabbing your waist and walks you backward toward the wall, one hand on your tit again, the other between your legs, still teasing, spreading you open even further. your body twitches at the overstimulation.

“one more,” he whispers. “just one more. i wanna fuck you.”

“hyuck—” your voice is small, body still trembling, but he’s already pressing his forehead to yours, smiling against your lips.

“stand still for me,” he says softly. “let me take care of it.”

“stand up tall for me,” he whispers again, sliding his tip through your folds. “gonna fuck you just like this.”

you clutch his shoulders, eyes fluttering. “please…”

“don’t worry, baby,” he grins. “i got you.”

his cock thick, hot, and already leaking against your slick folds. you feel the stretch before he even bottoms out, and the way his jaw clenches tells you he’s barely holding on.

“fuck—this pussy’s the best gift i’ve ever gotten.”

his hips start to move, slow at first, grinding into you deep. each thrust rocks you up the wall, your back thudding lightly against it as his hand slips between your bodies to rub at your bud again.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he groans, pinning you between the wall and him. “so wet, baby, you’re soaking me.” all you could do was moan loudly in return.

“gonna come for me like this?” he pants, sweat beginning to drip down his temple. “gonna come while i’m buried inside you like this?”

your answer is a sob. your pussy fluttering, walls pulsing around him. it’s too much. too good.

“give it to me, baby,” he groans. “wanna feel you squeeze around me. wanna fuck you through it—fill you up—“

you break with a wrecked cry, your whole body going hot and tight, seeing white as your head falls forward. and that’s all he needs. he fucks into you, cock twitching, spilling deep with a filthy moan of your name.

and when you slump into him more, limp and ruined, he just holds you. kissing your shoulder and hums against your skin.

“you did so well, angel.” he murmurs softly. then pulls back, hands on your cheeks.

“since it’s my birthday,” he whispers with a grin. “can we go again?”

[minkieater]

who in nct 127 fucks ⛓️ & who makes lurrrrv… 💕

A 127 ASK AHHHH JUMPING AROUND MY ROOM DOING CARTWHEELS SCRRAMING CRYING TNTOWING UP i know u said detailed but this what my brain give u

FUCKS: freak bitches

1. johnny

u cannot tell me this man don’t Fuck. maybe u might have sweet nice time sex on like anniversaries or if u had a bad day and need him to be mister nice man but on the regular he’s Fucking. he’s straight dogging your shit. he’s bending you over the kitchen counter and fucking you within an inch of your life, folding you into a pretzel in the backseat of his car until you’re damn near concussed from your head hitting the car door, he’s breaking your bed frame like the sex scene in twilight. sex with johnny is never calm and casual it’s always gonna have you wondering whether or not you’re making it out in one piece (one piece mention) i need to fuck him like i need to breathe air

2. yuta

this freak bitch OH MY GOD he’s the type to have chains and rope and handcuffs in a box under his bed always ready to whip it out. dildos and vibrators in the bedside drawer type shit. blindfold and nipple clamps on hand SUE ME he’s the type to call sessions ‘scenes’ and thats honestly exactly what they are. he’s the sex is art type, always pressing on boundaries, seeing how far he can go until you’re safe wording, just to see where the hard line stop is, until you cant take it anymore. he expects you to do the same to him too, and you DO until he’s a crying whimpering mess, and he still doesn’t want you to stop until HE cant take it, playing with him through a chastity belt or edging him with a cockring on YEAH! i said what i said hes so hot

3. haechan

hyuck a diff kind of freak he’s the type to pee on u. bro is cumming on your stomach and licking it up, spitting it on your mouth, the type to have you sitting on his face or laying you out spread eagle, fingering you until you’re squirting, licking every OUNCE of it up. he’s nasty, his mouth is filthy, he’s whispering the most vile shit in your ear, shit that should NOT make you as horny as it does. he’s the type to fuck you in public, make you walk around with cum sliding down your thighs, laughing at you when its so clearly visible to anyone who decides to look down. im actually fucking feral writing this i need him so badly

MAKES LOVE: sweet angels

1. doyoung

if you try to pull any kind of freak shit w doyoung i think you’d scare him off or flat out give him the ick. he’s the sweet type, kissing you while he fucks you, fingers locked, praising you for how pretty you look, how good you feel, sex is meaningful to him and if you treat it like anything other than that he’s not gonna feel good about it. quickies will not be a thing unless either of you is truly desperate, even then he tries his best to make it special, taking you in a dressing room while whimpering in your ear, tears lining his eyes because he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s using you awwwwwww he’s so cute

2. markie

Grade A Whiner, mark might fuck but it’s in a pathetic way, in a submissive way, in a i cant stop because you feel so fucking good kind of way. he’s bringing you flowers to each date, a handwritten card hidden between petals, poems he’s written himself, song lyrics too special to be publicized. then he’s taking his sweet time after each date, kissing every inch of your skin, coaxing you to orgasm through concentration on all of your reactions, the way your breath hitches when he curls his fingers a certain way, how your eyes roll back when his cock hits that spot. not even worried about his own orgasm. could prolly cum untouched just from watching you cum. pathetic but in a hot way. #Needthat

3. jungwoo

THE BABBYYYYYY THE FUCKINF BABY sex with him is honestly probably so fun. all giggly and soft, innocent in a way, never serious or desperate, much like two people in their first relationship having sex for the first time but its like that all the time. it makes it special, light hearted, no pressure at all, just the two of you exploring each other, finding out what feels good, how to make it feel better. I <3 JUNGWOO

SOMEWHERE IN THE MIDDLE: both ways

1. taeyong

taeyong could go either way i think he’s mad versatile. when the situation calls for it i think he can be really really submissive, but i also think u could work him up into a lil fuck machine. bro got stamina and with that navy body LAWDDDD hes fucking you into the mattress and flipping you around like youre a FEATHER. if he’s feeling particularly needy tho i think he’s very pliant for you, super vocal, whiney, telling you how good you make him feel, how much he loves you, how good you are to him, he doesn’t know he got so lucky w someone like you. he’d def call u mommy. he’d also fuck you like he’s turning you into one

2. jaehyun

gonna try not to lose my mind writing this 😁

jaehyun is sooo go with the flow i think he can be super sweet, he’ll go at your pace, would never think of taking things farther than what you set. always asks permission, asks how you’re feeling, if what he’s doing is still okay, super cautious and aware of his partner. he’s a fucking angel. on the other hand if u been together for awhile and u piss that man off he’s destroying your shit genuinely he’s ripping ur panties off ur body and fucking into you no prep. degrading words spat in your ear, a hand wrapped around your throat, using your ponytail to guide you through a bj at HIS pace. gagging you til you’re crying then laughing at you cus its your fault this is happening silly! he’s definitely edging u or fucking u until HE cums, denying you of an orgasm completely. FUCKKKKKKKKKKKK i actually beed him so bad Jaehyun please come home the kids miss you

anyways that’s my take on 127 hope u enjoyed and hopefully i did mark and yuta right 😛

[lulujeno]

finding out you sleep with a plushie

— nct dream ᡣ𐭩

cw : none! 100% fluff ^^

a/n : my tumblr debut yay! tried to make it as gender neutral as possible so i hope you enjoyyy

mark:

came home late from practice and found you sleeping on the couch with a winnie-the-pooh plushie tucked under your arms

first time seeing you sleep with the plushie despite knowing that you can't sleep without it

takes note of it for future occurrences

going on a flight? road trip? staying at your friends place? he will for sure remind you about the plush

when you forget the plushie at his place he will have it sitting on his bed against a pillow (sometimes 'reading' one of his books)

every time he sees winnie-the-pooh now he will take a quick pic of it to send to you

"yooooo why this lowkey looks like you"

doesn't forget to remind you that you're cuter tho

poor markie was so panicked when he couldn't find the plush after you texted him that you left it at his place

had a whole apology written down knowing how precious it was since its your childhood plushie

promised to buy you the exact same one and is basically crying now because he knows that it won't be able to replace the one you had

luckily he found it under his bed so we're all good!

renjun:

you were taking a nap on his bed when he saw you hugging a duck plushie

takes a quick pic for memories sake (and to tease you about it in the near future)

since then his little notes for you include a small duck doodle on it

"left early for practice 𓅭" "leftovers are in the fridge 𓅿" "goodluck for the interview today 𓅹"

when he's overseas for schedules he'll find something with ducks on it to give to you as a little souvenir

kisses both you and the duck when he sees you asleep after a long day (it calms him down)

would ask who's cuter, him or duckie?

you jokingly say duckie which causes him to nag to your plushie about stealing his partner

ducks are now his new favourite thing to draw (lyric sheets are his no. 1 victim)

when you couldn't find the plush he offers himself as something for you to cuddle with

resulted in him getting smacked and proceeding to help you find the duck

gets sulky after, saying that hes better at cuddling than the "piece of fluff"

you coo at his jealousy over a stuffed toy and cuddle the both of them

jeno:

he arrived at your place a little later than usual and sees you tucked in with a black bunny

he coos at how adorable the sight is and takes a picture to set as one of his many lockscreens of you

noticed that its the bunny he bought for you before he went on tour for tds2

"if you miss me just cuddle the bunny okay? he has black hair like me so it wouldnt be that much of a difference"

obviously cuddling a grown man and a 31cm plushie is different but what can you do when he's halfway across the globe?

also the type to kiss you and your bunny goodnight

caught him doing it one day and now try to stay awake long enough to catch him doing it again

you fail to do so since his schedules always end soooo late f u sm!!

would give your bunny a wash once every few months since the bunny is a representation of him and he takes personal hygiene very seriously! (his words, not yours)

the bunny would have a new ribbon tied to its ears, depending on what colour his hair is this time (always praying for the pink or white ribbon to come back one day)

gets jealous that you cuddle the bunny more than him

you'd get back at him saying that he's the one that bought the bunny

haechan:

could not shut up when he realised that the plushie you couldn't sleep without was a brown bear

teases you to no end because everyone knows the he is the og brown bear

he finds it too cute that you need a mini him to sleep

"awwwh, you're so in love with me that your plushie is basically me"

you tell him that its just a basic bear, theres no deeper meaning to it

you did buy it because it looks like him but he can't know that! the teases will be insufferable

doesn't care if it had another name before hand because it is now haechan jr.

if he sees the plush on the floor he'll pick it up and tuck it under your arms

the type to tell the little guy to take care of you in your sleep

you'd buy a mini version for him to bring around for schedules and tours

gives you updates about mini haechan jr. every second

practice room? recording studio? m/v shoot? fansign? filming 7llin? you will be getting updates!! not missing a single one

would post haechan jr. and mini haechan jr. on his instagram as a soft launch

it's a little too soft but its okay since you both want to keep it on the downlow anyways

jaemin:

found you sleeping one night with a pink bunny hidden under the blanket next to you

was cooing at how cute the sight was

also one to take pics because that's his partner!! why wouldn't he?

had to hold himself back from pinching your cheeks and opted to pat your head instead

will ask about it the next time he sees you and wont stop telling you how cute you are

you left it at his place once and suddenly theres a ribbon on your bunny's ears (i wonder who added it)

caught him having a full on conversation with your bunny a few times damn your bf is weird

basically treats the bunny like his child at this point

will remind you to bring your bunny when going on overnight trips with him

will not stop taking pictures of the bunny (he has a whole file for it on his phone btw)

"aigoooo look how adorable she is"

"awww both my babies look so cute I have to take a pic"

also one to send you pics of things with bunnies on it when on tour, buys it for you too sometimes

his cats loves bitting everything, including your bunny

makes sure that its as far away from luna, lucy, and luke after he caught them trying to bite on it

you're now 100x cuter in his eyes and he wont shut up about it

chenle:

slightly smiled to himself when saw you bring a dumbo plushie the first time you slept over at his face

he bought it so of course you'll be sleeping with it

why dumbo? because he has big ears and you're nosy as hell (his words btw)

you got sulky when you heard the reason and he corrected himself and said that it was because he was a yapper and you're the listener instead

starts calling you dumbo and the plushie dumbo jr. instead

would also ask to pick between him and the plushie

got so offended when you picked dumbo

"i am THE zhong chenle, who wouldn't choose me?"

would replace the plushie with himself after you sleep since he's petty like that, he wouldn't let a stuffed toy win over him

but would also put dumbo in between your arms if he wakes up first in the morning (it's to keep you company while he's cooking breakfast)

sends you pics of daegal and dumbo together like a proud dad

he's still chenle though so dont expect your plushie to get the same dad treatment as jaemin

the type to get you more dumbo related items since dumbo is the only plushie you sleep with

jisung:

his heart melted at the sight of you sleeping on the couch with a hamster plushie squished against your cheeks

if that man wasn't a simp for you already then he is now

needs a few seconds to just admire how cute you were for faling asleep while trying to wait for him to end his schedules

he's not one to bring it up directly, but that doesn't mean he won't tease you about it from time to time

probably annoys the members (read: chenle) about how adorable his partner is when cuddled up with a plush version of him

he's so down bad but you can't blame him for being in love

took him a few nights to realise that its the plushie he bought for you when you visited him during smtown live in tokyo

got so shy and couldn't contain his smile when he realised it

would ask you if you've given the hamster a name yet and when you said you haven't he suggested 'hamster'

you don't have the heart to tell him how corny it is so you agree to it

you both are down bad!!!!

if he sees the hamster on the floor he'll dust off any possible dust before tucking it under your arms again

takes a picture to make it last longer

you leave the plush at his place on accident once

send you a message saying that he can't believe you just forgot your son like that

takes a pic of him cuddling the hamster to show that he is being taken care of no ones focusing on the doll when his hands are right there

[diorcities]

⠀   ⠀ ── ⇀‸↼ guiding you through self-pleasure !

mdni. you ask, i deliver. requested, happy reading. library.

jisung. he's a hot loser, so bewitched by you, that he asks you to touch yourself when you're far away. “open more.” his hand pumps his sore cock as he watches you spread your legs wider, fingers sunk into your femininity beaming with arousal. his breathing is barely shallow and sonorous, his phone's illuminated screen highlights his heavy, teary eyes on you, as he twists a grimace when you circle your clit. “baby,” he whines at the wet sound coming from you, “go faster. put them back in.” his chest buz and his mind fog with the purest pleasure, as you do what he wishes, tilting your head back from imagining that it's his hands making you feel this good.

jaemin. his whiny moans soak your mouth as his fingers are deep inside you. he's so eager to fuck you, his sore cock is soaked in pre-cum, and it's torture that he can't until he pleases you; you sound so good that he can't stop his motions, pumping his digits around your plushy walls, producing a squelching noise at how tight your squeezing him. “baby, fuck,” he whines helplessly and you gasp, feeling your mind fill with noise before exploding around him. he breaks your embrace when he moves away from you. “jaem...” at first you are a little enraptured, and dazed, your eyes like two black wells blur his figure. “lay back for me, please?” he asks, breathless, holding his camera. “play with yourself for me... and open your legs.”

haechan. “you missed me that much?” he barely lets you leave him all night. head buried in your neck while he touches you over your clothes. you feel his lips on your legs, chest, and neck, yet his hands stay away from where you need them. “please.” you can barely hold back your moans. he makes fun of you, and it's almost embarrassing to feel him laugh against your neck as he grops you “would you spread for me, sweetheart?” your neck burns as you sense his loaded presence lurking you when you do what he says. he puts his hand on yours and guides both of you to your femininity where he exerts pressure just right. when you cry silently, he sighs, troubled. “show me how you want me, yeah? i'll follow.” your breath freezes and his becomes heavy as your soft hands guide his, starting to touch you.

mark. “open more.” his voice is just a deep sound, bathed in layers and layers of elation. “sounds so good, baby. want me to fuck you now?” mark knows that his gaze becomes heavier and heavier as he sees you circling your clit, “yes...” your misty eyes watch him in a trance as you pump your digits in and out, yourself. his songwriting session has been a failure. bringing you here and seeing you touch yourself has made him lose any concentration, now he just wants to wet his cock with your delicious arousal soaking your legs; a moan freezes in your throat as he finally penetrates you all the way in, and your body almost shuts down if not for him bringing your numb hand up a little, “don't stop touching yourself,” he says, rocking your clit using your fingers.

jeno. “should i?” you are hardly more than babbling under his touch yet when he tries to drift his hands down, you stop him. he hums, and you squeeze your legs tightly, “playing with me, love?” he pulls away and hovers over you, eyes going to your hand coming down to your femininity. “will you know how i like it?” his loaded gaze feels intense when you start touching yourself. and he sighs, lips parting open unconsciously when he hears how wet you are. he's troubled the second you start moaning his name, so he spreads your legs and falls spellbound and speechless; but when you look at him, all he does is snort with mockery, “i'll watch then.” he sits between your legs when you roll your eyes and start touching yourself, and his eyes get like two black holes as he stares at you so beautifully and definitely struggling to cum. “don't rush, princess. want some help?” his restless hands glides down and up your thighs, “do it slow and harder, just how you like me to fuck you.”

chenle. he can't help it, he's twisted. he's been away from you for a long time and now all of that intensified has come down to the urge of seeing you touching yourself. and you don't help at all by sending him photographs that he uses to finish, he needs you. to watch you, following his voice of how to use your fingers, aroused by the way you do as he says. “go harder.” his ears fill with your wails of pleasure as you insert two digits and soak in your silkiness. “i want to mark those pretty tits so bad.” his heavy breath becoming shallow, eyes darkening when you play with your clit. his tip flush with creamy load. “want to cum princess?” beads of sweet arousal glisten your pretty pussy, pulsing already. “please, can i cum?” you beg. “show me.” he grins at your features twitching with difficulty, palming his cock faster.

renjun. night calls end up with him guiding you when you miss him that way. he longs for you, holding you close while sleeping, and waking next to you after a lovemaking session. lately, he finds relief when you need him that much. “touch yourself as i taught you.” you're barely shaky breaths when your hand slide down your core, “imaging it's me between your legs.” his voice comes out softly yet charged with a wild feeling. “playing with your clit. twirling my tongue on that tight entrance.” he draws a heavy sigh from you. “you'd like that, huh? wanna go faster?” your moans pace your fingers penetrating you while he gasps on the other side, lowering a hand to his sore erection to take care of it for you.

[markleessodalite]

Relationship Quirks: NCT Dream

content: just a headcanon about little quirks you had to get used to in your relationship with bf!dreamies :)

warnings: none really

a/n: i'm at that stage where i have 5 million different ideas of what to write and i have started on... none of them :/ but i WILL i MUST

Mark:

He needs absolute silence during his night-time routine. Like, completely silent.

At some point you just stopped trying to be in the bedroom while he washes his face in the attached bathroom, bc even the slightest giggle at something on your phone would bother him.

His night routine is his relaxation time and he cannot have any disturbances

(and he works so hard every day that you don’t mind moving to another room while he decompresses)

Renjun:

He has a specific way of organizing the closet. But you don’t know how he does it bc he won't tell you.

You’ve tried to just watch him and figure it out but no matter where you put something, it's somehow always wrong.

Like you’ll hang up a shirt with the other shirts, but actually it was a blouse and you put it with the t-shirts and he has to go behind you and fix it.

And he’ll always tell you when its wrong too.

So now laundry is his special designated chore and you’re not allowed to do it

Jeno:

He spaces out. A lot.

Even in the middle of a conversation.

You eventually learned that you need to watch him as you talk to see if his eyes are unfocused, that's your clue.

And you have to pause between sentences to wait for a response, just a little nod or a ‘mhm,’ instead of yammering at a thousand miles an hour.

Its not like he’s purposefully tuning you out, he just has a mind that wanders. He can’t help it!

Haechan:

He can dish it out, but he can’t take it.

Meet lee donghyuck, the whiniest bf in the universe.

He loves to tease you if you say something weird or have a dumb moment, but the second you say something even half as sassy, you get the sigh.

And the eye roll.

And the slumped shoulders and silent treatment.

The only thing that can settle his mood is reassurance in the form of lots of physical affection ;)

Jaemin:

Forgets things. Everything. All the time.

If you want him to remember to do something, you have to write it down for him.

But he’ll also forget to keep that note with him, so you’ll either end up texting him or setting a reminder on his phone.

For a while you thought it was weaponized incompetence, but when he does remember something, he remembers every single detail.

He does everything just the way you want it, and he never complains about doing things for you.

He just has an absolute shit memory lol

Chenle:

He has to plan when to share a bed with you.

Chenle is just a very neat and tidy person. He likes his systems.

He also finds it hard to sleep when there’s too many distractions.

Its not that he dislikes sharing a bed with you, he likes it too much.

So if he’s got things to do or places to be in the morning, he must sleep by himself, or else he’ll spend all night yapping at you and try to spend the entirety of the next day in bed with you too.

Jisung:

Needs to plan everything with plenty of advance notice.

Jisung is just not spontaneous. By any means.

If you decide you wanna go shopping tomorrow, you better be ready to beg him to go with you.

And if you do get him out of the house, don’t you dare suggest going to a new, not previously discussed location, or he might literally cry.

To be fair, he has tried to improve on this ever since the two of you made plans for your first date… and he tried to set the date for 2 weeks later, which you took as disinterested obligation.

Now you know that Jisung would pretty much say yes to whatever you asked him to do– just give him enough time to mentally prepare for whatever outing you have planned!

[sungbites]

LEE DONGHYUCK AS YOUR BOYFRIEND

pairing : bf!haechan x gf!reader genre : est relationship, pure fluff warnings : petnames, crying, kissing, and not proofread synopsis : headcannons that bf!hyuck would do wc : 1k a/n : anotha reupload we up to preface this is a reupload from my account @ pshbites, this is the original and it is my work. i only have these two accounts and if there is any other account impersonating me, it is not me.

always running whenever you need him. donghyuck was someone you could rely on, even before the two of you started dating. whatever it was no matter how big or small if it was you calling him he was there in record time. it never bothered him either, he loved that you trusted him enough to call him for whatever because that was the very foundation of your relationship, trust. 

“hi i’m looking for a yn yln?” he approached the nurse desk, clearly out of breath from running there. “ah yes, she’s in the emergency room, bed 15 i believe.” the nurse smiled softly and donghyuck thanked them, rushing to the emergency room. he had received the call of you being at the hospital around 10 minutes ago and the second he heard you were there he rushed as quickly as he could. 

he finally reached your bed seeing you sitting up, tears running down your face. “hey hey what happened princess?” he sat down on the bed, holding you in his arms. “it was a fever,” you groaned, sniffling. “oh it’s okay i’m here now don’t worry” he mumbled, rubbing your back, not caring if you’d get him sick as well. 

the constant need to touch you. you found out pretty early on in your relationship that donghyuck loved skinship. it didn’t matter what it was whether holding you or your hand, he always needed to be touching you somehow. he was clingy to put it simply, but that never bothered you one bit. If anything it made you love him even more. you loved when he would whine and force you to kiss him goodnight or when he would insist on cuddling while watching a movie, it was adorable. 

cooking for you. donghyuck had made it a routine of staying over at your place since he had roommates, you didn’t mind that either because you loved waking up to the smell of him cooking breakfast. he did that for you every chance he got, insisting that his princess doesn’t need to worry about anything when he’s there, he’ll do it all. partially because you were a terrible cook and donghyuck didn’t want you to accidentally poison yourself. 

staying up until the crack of dawn just talking. as fun and silly as donghyuck seems, he’s more thoughtful in private. it’s unimaginable to his friends that he teases them all the time but he lays next to you at night and simply talks to you. it could be about anything, the stars in the sky or your lives, it didn’t matter what it was because you both wanted to continue talking to one another for the rest of your lives.

donghyuck rubbed his hands on your clothed stomach, holding you from behind by your waist. his head rested on your shoulder. “what do you want to do tomorrow, i remember you told me about that cafe” he mumbled against your ear, pecking your cheek softly. “up to you, i’m okay with whatever” you replied, resting your own hands over his hands. “yeah but i want you to choose, i wanna do what you want to do princess,” he always had a way with speaking to you, ever so sweetly. “yeah i wanna go to the cafe” you mumbled, glad that he couldn’t see your cheeks flushing. “now was that so hard, baby?”

calling you every petname in the book. donghyuck had a way of speaking with you. his tone was always soft and sweet, so when he called you another petname, it came off as even more satisfying. usually he used baby or princess, or sometimes he could throw you off by calling you his angel or another variation of that. whatever it was donghyuck loved using petnames on you, you reaction always sparked something in him, it was cute to put it simply. anytime he called you a new petname you fight the urge to smother his face in kisses. 

resolving arguments quickly. as hotheaded as donghyuck got, he couldn’t find himself getting mad at you. anytime he felt like he was getting mad at you he remembers that whatever it is it could be solved by just talking it out. hence why your arguments never last. it could be as simple as someone being late to a date or as big as forgetting an anniversary date. either way it didn’t matter because donghyuck hated being mad at you, he felt as if it was pointless if he knew he could just talk to you and solve the issue amongst yourselves rather than wasting time being mad at one another. 

kissing you everywhere. donghyuck was clingy but it wasn’t like it ever bothered you. randomly, he would just kiss you out of nowhere, no matter where the two of you are. he could be hugging you and you could feel a dozen kisses being smothered on your cheeks, anytime he did this it always made you giggle, making him smile as well. “hyuck stop that it tickles” you laugh, pushing his face away lightly. “oh come on i can’t kiss my pretty girl?!” he scoffed out, clearly playfully because a smile was still evident on his face. as he pulled away you leaned in to kiss his lips, making him smile through the kiss. kisses were always like this with donghyuck, sweet. he pulled back, still smiling as he held you in his arms. 

crying because you cry. many people perceived donghyuck as cold and curt, but he wasn’t like that with you. he was warm and kind with you, so kind that whenever you cried he couldn’t help but cry as well. “hyuck why are you crying” you sniffled, feeling him wipe your tears, “i hate seeing you sad princess” he mumbled, looking in your glassy eyes. you laughed softly, wiping his tears off his cheeks, making him smile softly. seeing him cry with you makes you stop crying because you also cannot bear seeing him teary eyed. the two of you were a perfect match. 

taglist : @kisseudoll @hyuckworld @lqfiles @cupidhoons @ronniee-26 @bywonyo @aerifim @17ericas @polarisjisung @sunghoonsgfreal

dream taglist

© all rights to sungbites 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost my works

[puppysuh]

since i am stuck in the trenches of ovulation and the d-word is running laps around my brain, YES I WILL. top ten use of my writing skills: writing community pervert lee donghyuck as a daddy dom 🙂‍↕️

(just to clarify i started writing this and THEN had an edible and posted it accidentally whilst off my balls… hope the dear anon that asked me this sees it i dedicate this to you ❤️)

network(s) : @neocity-net

“daddy…”

it slips through your lips whilst he’s eating you out, nails digging into the meat of your ass as he all but drags your pussy to his lips. haechan is a relentless eater, but when he hears you whine that, he stops in his tracks.

“what did you just call me?”

your cheeks begin to heat, partially from the way his fingers slip out of your cunt and move to on your clit, partially from the way his voice drops. haechan doesn’t stop teasing you though, he would never, crooking his fingers on your clit and beginning to rub it in slow circles.

“n-nothin’.” it’s embarrassing, the way it just slipped out, and you clench your legs together in a futile effort to build up the pressure that began to coil in your gut. “haechan-”

your pleading is cut off by a harsh slap to your ass. “that’s not it, princess. what-” your head flops back down into the pillows when he slips his thumb inside, shorter yet thicker than his fingers- “-did you just call me?”

you could whimper. you could cry, scream, beg for him to continue but your lover would never be satisfied. he only wants to hear the words fall from your lips, to fuck you hard and deep enough to have your mind falling apart at the seams. and when he slaps your ass again when you fail to respond, you scream exactly what he wants to hear.

“ah- daddy!” haechan smirks, then scoffs.

“you nasty little freak,” he groans, finally climbing onto the bed only to press his rock hard cock against your irritated skin. “daddy?”

you’re so far gone that you mistake his faux disgust for satisfaction, nodding your head and rubbing your ass against his throbbing erection. “mhm… need daddy to fuck me.”

you awaken something primal in him, something raw and unrestrained, and haechan spreads your ass cheeks apart, marvelling at the way your pussy leaks for him.

“need me to fill you up, princess?” his tone is borderline condescending and you melt, mind going dumb as his fingers on your clit begin to speed up. “gonna call me daddy whilst i blow your back out?”

“y-yeah…” in all honesty, haechan should be surprised. you’ve never sounded so desperate before, but when he begins to tease your leaky seam with his tip, he’s in love with the way your back arches. his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you back on his cock as he begins shallow thrusts into your tight hole.

“that’s it,” he grunts, bathing in the way your moans fill the room. “who’s your daddy, princess?”

“you!” what a pitiful little slut you are, falling apart so quickly from a couple of thrusts. “you’re my daddy, hyuck, fuck-”

“damn fuckin’ right i am.” it’s downright animalistic, the way he sounds, but you love it, cunt squeezing all the more as he fucks you within an inch of your life. “cum for me, baby. cum for your daddy.”

and cum for him you do, arousal drenching the blankets below as you shake against him, eyes rolling into the back of your head and fists clenching as stars flash behind your eyelids.

later that night, you note that calling haechan daddy in bed is bound to get you the best fuck of your life.

a/n : daddy count — 9. might have went a little ooc with this (if you can even use ooc to describe kpop idols… they’re not characters 🤷‍♀️) but my pussy is in agreement with what i’ve written here so i COULD NOT care less

[spookyji]

# shush !! p.js

sorry i needed him to shove his hands ** ** **** rn lol i am so not sane for jisung anymore

# nsfw + mdni, jisung tries to to fuck you quietly in his hotel room.

ah—ji–! less than subtle rustles of his sheets, long, slender fingers rushed to clasp over your lips as your eyes squeeze shut, trying to be quiet when his hand cups your drenched panties, jisung’s body draped over yours as he pressed you deeper into the hotel bed, god, who made hotel walls so fucking thin? and he’ll never hear the end of it, not with haechan on the other side, jisung can almost already hear his exaggerated mocking moans to tease him tomorrow, the only reminder keeping jisung from fucking you carelessly hard into his sheets.

fuck it, he’s not giving haechan a show. shhh, jisung whispers, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he kisses up your skin, teeth grazing until he finds your sweet spot, biting down and sucking a dark hickey as his fingers slip into your panties, your heated gasps and whines poorly muffled by palm over your lips.

fuck, it’s sinfully evil to have hands like his, shoved into your cute cunt, slowly pumping and curling in your soaked folds. spit wetting his hand messily with your cute drools and whimpers, pretty bruises littering your neck, jisung’s quiet, deep groans right against your ear, sending electricity down your spine with how fucking sinful he sounds, deep from his throat and raspy from after a concert.

ngh– ji, ‘m gonna—! your muffled cries slipping through, salaciously wet sounds of his fingers increasing his pace, cum f’ me, pretty, he whispers, husky and low on the verge of a growl, fuck, has you tearily sloppily coming undone, jisung’s bony fingers slipping out and coated with your juices, a dark smirk on his lips as he teasingly hangs his wet fingers in your sight.

no, ‘s embarrassing– you whimper, burying your face into the sheets and just peeking out enough to see his fingers dip into his lips, savoring your sweet taste as he licks them clean tantalizingly slow, intentional to make you flustered,,, it’s only you who can see this side of jisung, the dark hotel room and his glasses slightly fogged with his panting breathing, scent of sex heavy in your nose, and his soft lips wrapped around his wet fingers.

—

f-fuck, s’ fucking tight, jisung pants, burying his face into your shoulder, gritting his teeth to resist a moan, his hand so wet with your spit as your muffled cries are trapped by his palm, sweat wetting his hair into messy strands as he pushes in just the tip, just the tip of his fucking massive cock, flushed red with need and laced with a prominent vein. shit, ‘s like i didn’t fuck you on my fingers enough–ngh,,, your fingers desperately clinging to the sheets, tears spilling over your lashes as your eyes clench shut, painfully good stretch driving you mad with pleasure, god, why’s he so big?

and inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed in your pretty cunt, a string of drool hanging from his plump lower lip to the bite on your shoulder, your hand reaching to press his harder against your lips to resist the muffled moans slipping through as his hips slam into yours, ‘s a lewd view like this that makes him insane for you,, when your hair’s a mess, pretty body trapped beneath his, so completely under his control to shut up your voice, burying his thick cock into your tight pussy with lewd, loud slaps of skin and squelches of arousal, his bites on your neck and shoulder, hickeys splotchy and all his, it’s a mess jisung adores.

sloppy thrusts, his tip kissing your cervix, the sudden whines and clench of your cunt as you cum hard in a crying mess into his hand, hips pushing back to meet his, fuck, ‘m gonna cum,, jisung pants, ‘m gonna fill you up, pussy’s all mine from inside, yeah? his thrusts sloppier by the second, his words eliciting a pretty, muffled whimper from your lips, ji, fill m-me up, want it inside–! and jisung’s more than willing, his thick load of love released into your swollen cunt as he lets out a loud moan, deep, raspy, breathy with lewd pleasure before he can stop himself, cute cunt milking him of his cum a little too good for him to handle, god, he could just fucking breed you up if your pussy wants it so bad—

and your gasps for air as he releases your lips from his grasp, only for him to thrust hard, eliciting a cry of his name, w-wait, jisung—ah! fuck it, baby, jisung mutters, ‘m not done with you, fuck who hears.

—

that fucker, haechan groans as he rolls his eyes, a taunting glint in his dark gaze, tinged with annoyance, shifting in his bed. his fingers reaching for his phone, a smirk on his lips as he presses record before reaching into his sweats.

[labelneo]

breakup sex with haechan😼

haechan x reader. smut drabble.

“don’t close your fucking legs,” haechan lets out in a stern voice, a tone that makes you let out a whimper. pressing his fingers to both sides of your mouth, he squeezes your face harshly before sticking his fingers deep into your mouth. “and put that fucking pretty mouth of yours to use.”

he doesn’t wait for you to comply, finding his own pleasure in watching the way you gaze glosses over, at the way you don’t fight him.

“there, pretty girl. you’ll always be mine even when you have that fucking mouth that pisses me off.”

you hum against his digits while focusing on the feeling of him filling you up. he’s not your boyfriend anymore, you know that. still, you find yourself sucking at his fingers, watching how even after everything he looks at you in awe as you let your mouth work around his fingers. you want to please him just to feel him close to you again.

you feel content at the feeling of haechan ramming himself inside of you, the sound of skin hitting and your juices making filthy sounds have you clench around his dick, a feeling you know he loves. you feel every twitch his cock makes as it hits your walls over and over again. the sound of haechan’s groans and your whines have you reaching for your own chest, playing with your boobs, knowing how haechan loves the sight of you playing with yourself as he has his way with you. his eyes scan you as you continue to wet his fingers and massages your own boobs. the sounds you’re making he swears he could never find anywhere else or with anyone else.

he decides to push your legs further into you, letting him have deeper access into you. you let a whimper, gripping the sheets around you. he makes you feel so full, so good, so his.

haechan doesn’t stop his relentless thrusts into you. you feel so much deeper now, so wet.

“yeah,” he says as he moves his fingers away from your mouth, gripping your thighs and pushing them farther into you, “now you don’t know what to say, huh?”

he continues to look at your fucked expression, how you can’t even seem to form a thought as your eyes close. he’s not slowing down. he’s not letting you catch your breath. on instinct, your body naturally begins to pull away, only for haechan to dig his fingers deeper into your skin and pull you closer to him.

“no, baby,” he starts, leaning down farther to press your lower body and his chest completely against you, “you know better than that.” his right hand reaches for yours, fingers intertwining as he ruts himself into you. the gesture feels so intimate from the man he’s being right now.

you let out a cry as he presses every part of himself farther into you. he digs his face into your neck, licking you all the way from your collarbone to your jaw before he digs his teeth in. you whimper in his ear and feel as his pace increases and his breathing becomes shorter. you couldn’t think of what to say, couldn’t think of another smart comment to make about how much he annoyed you or how you couldn’t stand his smart mouth either. all you had wanted was to come back to grab the rest of your things. now you’re under him, chasing a high you know only he can give you.

lifting his head up to face you, he starts again.“hey,” haechan says, grabbing your face harshly once more and pressing your fingers hard on both cheeks, “you’re mine, right? my dirty girl?” yet, he’s not asking, he knows the answer.

haechan sees the glint in your eyes, the one he had grown to know after the time the two of you had dated. he can see the joke forming in your thoughts. he can see how funny you think you’d be if you said no.

he pulls himself out of you and before you can react, he flipped you over. “wrong answer, baby.”

he pulls your ass up into the air, and without warning, he going back to slamming his length into you. you let out a loud groan before he reaches for your hair, pull you closer towards him. “i fucking miss you, and this is how you’re gonna treat me?”

you still don’t say anything, which only causes him to pull you back further as he presses his chest into your back. he wraps his hand against your neck, determined to get an response out of you, “answer me.”

the overwhelming sensation of him filling you up was only amplified as he starts to cut off your breathing. you can’t think straight. not when he’s fucking you at the pace he knows you like. but, you know you have to answer. you know what he’ll do if you don’t.

“y-yes, hyuck.”

“yes what?” he slows his pace down, grabbing your ass as he watches you chase him by jutting yourself towards him again.

“please.”

“if you don’t use your words, i’ll keep your here all night. you’ll be crying, begging for me to let you cum.” he brings his hand down to your ass, slapping it. “yes what?”

your ass perks out at the gesture. letting out a shaking breathe, your arms start to shake as they hoist you into your position. your breathing is starting to shallow. because no matter how good he fucks you, he knows how to undo you with just words too.

“i’m yours. just yours. use me, baby. please.”

not wasting another second, haechan slips himself easily back into you. you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs as he continues to fuck you, claim you. he leans down further to kiss at your back, loving the feeling of his action causing shivers to run down your entire body.

“that’s right, pretty girl. you’re mine to use. mine to ruin.” he changes his angle and his pace, finding that sweet spot inside you. you don’t know what to say anymore as you feel those tears start feeling your eyes, tears only he knows how to form. “i know you too fucking well to let anyone else fuck this hole that belongs to me.”

want to read more? masterlist!

[moonhoures]

warning: every post will include smut! minors do not interact! (18+)

these will be posted at midnight (CST) from Oct. 1st to Oct. 31st. the links will be added accordingly after each one is posted!

* titles are subject to change up until posting date!

go to the bottom of this post to join the taglist! ↓

1. Video Games | Enhypen Jay

— angry sex + makeup sex

2. One Night Stand | Seventeen Hoshi

— anonymous sex + roleplay

3. Relax | Ateez Yeosang

— bath sex

4. Insatiable | Enhypen Sunghoon

— biting kink + blood play [vampire!au]

5. Merciless | Stray Kids Hyunjin

— bondage

6. Countdown | TXT Taehyun

— brat taming

7. All Of Me | Monsta X Jooheon

— breeding kink / creampie

8. Stargazing | Monsta X Changkyun

— choking

9. Sunday Morning | P1Harmony Jiung

— cockwarming

10. Cowgirl | Ateez Wooyoung

— costumes

11. Pretty When You Cry | NCT Jeno

— dacryphilia

12. “It Just . . . Slipped” | Stray Kids Chan

— daddy kink

13. Play Thing | Twice Mina

— degradation

14. Open Wide | BTS Taehyung

— dom!idol

15. Score | Stray Kids Minho

— dry humping / thigh riding

16. Wicked Games | NCT Haechan

— edging / orgasm denial

17. Watch Yourself | Seventeen Jeonghan

— mirror sex

18. That’s My Girl | Twice Jihyo

— mommy kink

19. Thin Walls | ZB1 Matthew

— masturbation

20. I Can See You | The Boyz Sangyeon

— office sex [coworkers!au]

21. Sit | Blackpink Rosé

— oral

22. Good To Me | Seventeen Wonwoo

— overstimulation

23. Kiss Me Thru The Phone | Stray Kids Felix

— phone sex

24. Beautiful | NCT Jaehyun

— praise kink

25. Focus | Ateez San

— sex tape / filming

26. Knew Better | Seventeen S.Coups

— spanking

27. First Time For Everything | (G)-Idle Soyeon

— squirting

28. Bad Day | Wonho

— stripping

29. Hotel Room Service | TXT Huening Kai

— sub!idol

30. Three’s Company | P1Harmony Keeho & Theo

— threesome

31. Weapon | ITZY Chaeryoung

— toys

🕸️ Taglist 🕷️

to join the taglist for this event only, please comment on this post! asks or comments on any other posts will not be valid.

edit: if your age isn’t visible on your blog you will not be added! you must be 18+ to be eligible for this taglist. thank you!

if you’d like to join my other taglists, you can do so here.

if you have any questions, i suggest sending those through my inbox!