Lee Donghyuck Smut - Tumblr Posts

as expected, jewel did it again ✨ i swear i always click the read more KNOWING you’re gonna rock my world and step on my face it’s just that good 💞 thank you so so much for thissss, i loved it to pieces gonna read a few million times again <3 <3

SURE THING (L.DH)

pairing. haechan x fem!reader

genre. smut…that’s it

word count. 11k

contents & warnings. drug use (weed) mentioned; reader partakes, oral (receiving), unprotected sex, fingering (receiving), mild dacryphilia, hair pulling (giving, receiving)

notes. this is the first time in maybe ever that i’ve (1) written a fic in chronological order (2) finished a fic this long this quickly. this may actually be a record for me! anyway, this fic is inspired by the following song lyrics!

girl, i love it when we high. do it turn you on, shawty? tell me if i’m wrong. i can see it in your eyes when you’re high that you feelin’ my vibes, baby, you ain’t gotta lie. i been waiting all day to get high with you, shawty, you know you my boo, i got all this weed for you, girl, let’s get high tonight, shawty, let’s get high, shawty. (high - pnb rock & dj luke nasty)

even when the sky comes fallin’, even when the sun don’t shine, i got faith in you and i; just put your pretty little hand in mine. (sure thing - miguel)

“Hey!” Jaemin greets you when he opens the front door to see you standing there patiently. He ushers you in, and not a moment too soon, because the shorts and blouse you chose to wear are definitely a flattering outfit, but maybe not the most sensible considering it’s almost midnight and there’s no sun to provide any warmth to your bare legs and slightly exposed midriff. “Did you seriously not wear a coat?”

“Yeah, I know, don’t tell Jeno.” You mumble, rubbing your arms to give yourself some warmth through the friction. “Thought I’d make it for the brief little walk from my house to Jeno’s.” You’re well aware that Jeno fusses over you not entirely unlike a mother, scolding you for your (many) bad choices and worrying over you. You weren’t fully thinking about wearing a coat when you were getting ready, and by the time you realized you’d left it at home, you were too far in your journey to consider turning back.

“You and I both know Jeno isn’t who you have to worry about,” Jaemin chuckles as he heads towards the kitchen with you on his heels. The further into the house you go, the more aware you become of your surroundings, the smoke swirling in the air from blunts, bongs, and bowls alike creating a fog that makes itself more prevalent in the light, and the smell of weed is strong—like, knock-you-off-your-damn-feet strong. 

“Is he here?” You ask, voice lowered surreptitiously as you approach the topic of the unnamed person you may or may not have come to see.

“Of course he’s here,” Jaemin snorts, moving to open the fridge and pulling out a can of soda. “He knew there was a chance you were coming.”

“Shut up,” You finally manage to mumble, shoving his shoulder and leaning your backside against the island countertop so you can maintain your glare in Jaemin’s direction.

“You know it’s true.” Jaemin teases, and you mumble bitterly under your breath, fidgeting with various aspects of your appearance until Jaemin swats at your hands. “Will you stop? You already look good, I promise!” 

“You know it’s true.” Jaemin teases, and you mumble bitterly under your breath, fidgeting with various aspects of your appearance until Jaemin swats at your hands. “Will you stop? You already look good, I promise!” 

“Not like I did this for you, anyway,” You huff, stilling after the words leave your mouth and meeting Jaemin’s smug gaze with a sheepish expression. “Shit.” You mutter, turning away from him and placing your palms on the countertop, the cool surface calming your nerves slightly. 

“Who’d you do it for, then?” Jaemin presses, and you shake your head vehemently, a small whine escaping you when he walks around to the other side of the island and mirrors your stance, now staring dead at your face. Even averting your gaze does nothing to protect you from his scrutiny, and you whine louder, even stomping your foot slightly. “Did you just stomp your foot?” He asks in amused disbelief, and you suck your teeth, glaring at him and looking away again. 

If you were watching Jaemin, you would have caught on when Jaemin’s eyebrows lifted in intrigue, eyes locked on something behind you, and a devilish little smile started to grow on his face. You don’t even notice as Jaemin looks over your shoulder repeatedly, your mind too caught up in trying to save face.

It’s when a warmth presses against your back and a hand appears from behind you and places itself beside your hand on the counter that you realize Jaemin was looking at something—or, you think as the presence behind you lets out a familiar chuckle, someone.

Haechan’s free hand tickles across the back of your thighs, only satisfied when you squirm slightly, and continues up to rest just under the hem of your shorts, fingers ghosting along the closest patch of skin to your ass that Haechan can get away with touching. His physical attention only lasts for a moment, his hand stilling when you look behind you and lock eyes with him. He’s as devastatingly attractive as always, dark hair messily tousled off of his forehead and revealing his eyebrows, which he wiggles at you in a flirtatious greeting, the corner of his mouth curling upwards into a crooked grin. 

“Hi,” You greet him quietly, mirroring his smile, and he moves his hand from not-quite-your-ass and shifts beside you to mirror your position.

“Hey,” He replies in kind, eyes shamelessly scanning your body and lingering in a way that makes the chill of the night air you braved all worth it. “You come alone?”

“Yeah.” You answer, tossing a glance in Jaemin’s direction to see that he’s nowhere to be found. “It’s a short commute.”

“That’s not safe,” Haechan points out, and you hum in acknowledgement. “Let me know next time, and I’ll come get you.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet?” You chuckle with a teasing lilt, and Haechan snickers.

“As sugar,” He answers, grinning cheekily.

“Oh! That reminds me,” You say with a start, turning slightly to face him. “Do you have edibles?” You bat your lashes at him as prettily as you can, and he raises an eyebrow, laughing quietly to himself.

“Of course I do,” He answers you with an assuring smile.

“Do you have the gummy ones?” You ask, and he chuckles, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out something that crinkles familiarly, your eyes lighting up as you reach for his emerging hand. 

“Anything for my girl.” He hums, and your eyes roll back into your head as you groan quietly in delight—you’re reacting to the affectionate term, but thankfully have something to mask it with—and take the proffered gummy from his hand, popping it into your mouth. The odd little aftertaste of the gummy is your indicator that there isn’t just sugar in the treat, and it fades away as you chew, only the sweetness lingering on your tongue once you’ve swallowed.

“I like that,” You muse, and he hums in question. “‘Anything for my girl,’” You mimic his voice, and he laughs openly at that, eyes twinkling with mirth when they refocus on you.

“Is that really what I sound like?” He asks, amused, and you shake your head.

“Nope—I promise you sound much hotter than that.” You assure him, and his eyebrows raise, eyes widening slightly in an impressed expression.

“Oh, really?” He presses, and you nod, smiling.

“Your voice is so hot,” You confess, blinking heavy-lidded eyes at him as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Especially when it’s all low and croaky after you smoke and shit.”

“Mhm?” Haechan leans closer to you, moving the hand closest to you to the other side of you, trapping you in his embrace.

“Yeah,” You sigh, the word coming out a bit more dreamily than you would have liked as you lean back somewhat so your back is to his chest and turn to look at him. “You could probably make me do anything when you talk like that.”

“Oh, yeah?” He murmurs, leaning over so his lips are right by your ear. “Mm…take your shirt off.” He purrs, a teasing cadence to his voice, and a snort escapes you before you can stop it. “Kidding,” He chuckles, and your amusement bubbles over as you reach a hand up to cover your mouth to contain the laughter that spills out.

“You play too much,” You chuckle, shaking your head, and he scrunches his face up in disdain.

“I play just enough,” He counters and you turn all the way around to face him so he gets the full view of your very deliberate eye roll. He chuckles and steps closer to you, hands moving to rest on either side of you but significantly closer, deliberately not casual at this point. “When are you gonna come visit me, hm?” His voice softens to a murmur as he leans in closer to you, the warmth of his breath fanning over your cheek before his lips are grazing your earlobe and his cheek brushes up against yours. “Let me smoke you out.”

“You know I’m more of an—”

“Edibles girl,” Haechan finishes with you, smiling. “All the more reason to come visit me. You can either get your little gummy high,” He teases with an audible grin, “or you can smoke and try new things,” Haechan finishes, pulling back to look you directly in the eyes, and you have a feeling he might not be talking about the weed anymore. “It’s a whole different kind of high, angel.” His eyes are trained unwaveringly on yours, unnerving you so deeply that you have to start manually reminding yourself to blink. “I won’t even laugh if you cough and splutter.” He raises one hand up and nods with an air of solemnity and you huff, pushing his chest with a finger. He beams at you and places his hand back on the counter, caging you in once more.

“I know how to smoke, Haechan,” You inform him. “I just don’t like it as much.”

“When have you ever smoked, angel?” He’s eying you with a skeptical half-smile, and you narrow your eyes at him playfully, your lips quivering as you attempt to contain your smile.

“I smoked before I met you. I smoked the day that I met you, actually.” You point out, and his brows furrow thoughtfully as he thinks back. “I haven’t always had a hot guy magically appearing wherever I go with gummy edibles, you know.” You tease, and, by the way his body tenses, you’re pretty sure the compliment wasn’t lost on him.

“Did you just call me hot?” Haechan asks carefully.

“I dunno,” You reply nonchalantly, shrugging and looking away, your lips winning as they stretch into a smile. “That was so long ago, I don’t remember. I live in the now.” Haechan doesn’t say anything for a confusingly long time, so you look back to him to see that he’s watching you with an intent, amused stare, one not unlike a lion watching a gazelle, and if looks could talk, you feel like his would say, “I can’t wait to get you alone.”

“It’s rude to stare,” You quietly scold him in a playful cadence, and he shrugs, gaze unwavering.

“I’m not sorry.”

“You’re wicked.” You huff out an incredulous laugh, and he grins.

“I am,” He agrees. “What would you say if I asked you to come with me somewhere?”

“I would say that I’ve seen stuff like this on Dateline and 48 Hours.” You joke, and he exhales sharply in amusement, clearly not expecting you to say anything of the sort. “Kidding,” You smile widely, and he looks at you, tongue peeking out to wet his lips slowly. “I’d ask where we’re going.”

“I need a new lighter,” Haechan replies, pulling out his old one and trying to turn it on several times to no avail. You look upward, feigning a thoughtful expression, and he groans, laughing as he pushes off the counter entirely and takes your hand in his free one. “Come on, pretty,” He purrs. “How about a little midnight adventure?”

“…Fine.” You decide finally, and he grins widely, squeezing your hand briefly before he starts to tug you after him, only to stop when he realizes that you’re not moving. “I’m only going because I want gummy sharks.” You inform him matter-of-factly, and he laughs, nodding. 

“Noted.”

“You should know better than to go out this late with no coat.” Haechan grouches, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders.

“And they say chivalry is dead.” You push your arms through the sleeves and you two keep walking to the convenience store. 

“What do you mean?” Haechan chuckles.

“Well, first you offered to drive me to Jeno’s,” You explain, “then you brought the gummy edibles you know I like; now you’re giving me your jacket—you’re a real gentleman, huh?”

“Ah, I wouldn’t say that, really.” Haechan sounds somewhat like he’s up to something, and you cast him a suspicious sideways glance. The small smirk on his face as he meets your gaze levelly reveals nothing, and you huff softly.

“Why not?”

“There’s actually something in it for me.” He explains, and you squint in confusion.

“What’s that?” You ask curiously.

“I get to show off to people just how good you look in my jacket.” He answers with a grin, and you can’t hide the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

“Oh, yeah? And ‘just how good’ do I look, Haechan?” You ask, and he chuckles, the sound a little darker than you’re used to it being, and the shift sends a thrill of excitement down your spine.

“Too good for your own good,” He replies, that same little edge to his voice that has piqued the interest of something in your subconscious. “Now, I want you to take my jacket off.”

“Take it off?” You cock your head to the side, confused.

“Take my jacket off…among…other things…” Haechan muses, and realization, giddiness, and nervousness crash over you like waves as Haechan slowly and deliberately moves towards you and backs you up against a random building.

“Oh,” You breathe, your chest tightening as you look anywhere but at him, his dark stare too intent for you.

“Oh,” Haechan chuckles as he mocks your tone. One hand leaves the exterior of the building behind you and drops down to toy with the hem of your shorts but not before grazing the peek of skin revealed by your blouse. “Look so pretty tonight, angel.”

“Thanks,” You mumble, your mouth and throat feeling dry for entirely weed-unrelated reasons. 

“Did you get all dressed up for me tonight?” Haechan leans forward to nose at your jaw, tilting your head away from him to give himself access to your neck. It feels like time slows to a stop as he exhales against your skin, goosebumps rising virtually everywhere else, and he presses forward into you ever so slightly. Haechan dawdles around actually pressing his lips to your neck, grazing one or both of his lips against the skin, nuzzling it with the tip of his nose, and you’re about to ask what in the hell he’s waiting for, when you remember that he asked you a question and realize he’s waiting for your answer.

“Yes,” You exhale in a large breath you’d been holding, and Haechan hums in satisfaction, leaning forward and pressing his lips to your neck in a lingering kiss that has desire spreading through you like wildfire, your fingers curling in excitement.

“Mm, how lucky am I, hm? The prettiest girl at that whole party got all cute and dressed up for me.” He coos, words hot against your neck as he alternates between speaking and pressing slow, languid kisses to the skin. “Makes me feel special.” 

“You are special,” You say honestly, thanking the powers that be that your reply sounded more casual than simpering.

“Oh, you’re so sweet, angel.” He murmurs against your skin. His tongue slowly traces a stripe up your neck and your breath hitches in surprise, your hand flying up to loosely grab onto his shirt, your fist uselessly clutching the fabric that’s supposed to be covering his chest. “So sweet,” He repeats, and you practically shudder in delight. “I’m special?” Haechan asks with a lopsided grin, lifting his head so you two are face-to-face and his gaze drops from your eyes to your lips almost immediately as the smile starts to fade from his face. 

“Yeah,” Your voice is barely above a hushed murmur, but the stillness of the night around you carries your voice just to where it needs to be.

“How special?” Haechan urges, his tone playful, challenging, and devilish all at once.

“H-How—huh?” You ask, thrown off by the question.

“How special am I, angel?” Your lips are practically touching, but Haechan somehow manages to manipulate the space between you two and stretch it even more. His other hand drops off of the wall to wind his arm around your waist, the following tug from him that sends you tumbling forward into his chest eliciting a gasp from you. “Hm?”

You can barely open your eyes, lids heavy with desire, but you can tell one thing: Haechan is about to kiss you.

His lips slowly tease yours apart, his grip around your waist tightens, and Haechan lets out a soft little groan of “Finally,” before connecting your mouths. Your lips are connected for what must be four very blissful seconds, and you’re just about to start committing this to memory when a loud whooping noise from across the street startles you so much that you almost bite down on Haechan’s lip. Haechan sighs deeply, his head dropping down in frustration for a moment before he turns to look at the culprit, which appears to be a random guy in a group of people all walking down the street together.

“Ah, don’t stop now!” The guy calls out encouragingly, and you can hear the slur in his voice telling you that you’re all some sort of not-sober, but you just picked different poisons. You and Haechan don’t acknowledge the last comment from the intoxicated stranger, both of you laughing it off as he slowly unwinds himself from you, letting you straighten yourself out before you two finish out the trek to the convenience store.

As you reach the storefront, Haechan opens the door and holds it for you, following after you. In contrast to the dark of the night sky, the harsh bright white lighting of the convenience store makes you squint slightly upon entering, barely making out the figure of the present worker enough to shoot her a friendly wave and greeting.

She returns your greeting kindly, but when your vision finally adjusts to the store’s lighting, you can see that she only has eyes for Haechan, following his every move around the store like a hawk. You know that look. You give him that look. 

She wants him and, honestly, you can’t blame her—Haechan manages to make even looking at different lighters a deeply attractive action. 

“Can I help you find anything?” The cashier asks, and you turn to pipe up that you’re fine when you realize that the question wasn’t even directed at you, her eyes still trained on an oblivious Haechan.

“I’m good, thanks,” Haechan mumbles distractedly.

“Okay! Let me know,” She offers, and you huff quietly to yourself. 

“‘Let me know,’” You mock the worker’s voice under your breath, making some accompanying teasing faces to yourself. “Didn’t even ask if I needed help finding anything.” You grouch. “I would’ve said yes, too, because I can’t even find the goddamn gummy sharks—oh, here they are.”

You’re so engrossed in your thoughts and your hunt for all the gummies and snacks your heart desires that you don’t notice Haechan approaching you until his breath is against the back of your neck and you jolt violently, whipping your head around to glare at a mischievously grinning Haechan. 

“Don’t mind me.” He raises his hands as if to show his harmlessness, and you narrow your eyes at him suspiciously before turning back to your task at hand. He follows your every move as if he just got the job of your personal shadow as you walk along the aisle, compiling gummy snack after snack and his constant, literal breathing down your neck occasionally tickles you into letting out a giggle, only spurring him on further.

“Did you get your gummy sharks?” He asks, amused, and you spare him a glance over your shoulder. 

“Of course I got my gummy sharks.” You scoff lightheartedly, and he grins, nodding in approval.

“Good girl,” He murmurs suggestively in your ear, moving just out of your reach when you move to swat him in surprise.

When you’re satisfied with the inventory of snacks you’ve gathered, you head over to the register and place the almost mountainous pile of snacks on the counter with a sheepish smile.

“Will this be all?” The worker asks politely, and you nod, barely noticing her attention shifting to behind you before Haechan is standing right beside you, placing his lighter and a bottle of soda with your pile of snacks and handing the cashier his card without a word to you.

“Wh–Haechan!” You exclaim, looking at him incredulously as he turns to look at you, meeting your gaze calmly with an eyebrow raised inquisitively. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know. I wanted to.” Haechan answers simply, shrugging as he takes the bag the cashier prepared for you both.

“If I’d known you were gonna do that, I would’ve gotten way less stuff.” You frown, and he coos sympathetically.

“It’s okay; you can just make it up to me someday.” He says with a devilish grin, and you swallow thickly.

“That makes me nervous.” You mumble, and Haechan chuckles, leaning closer to your ear.

“I like you nervous,” He admits in a low murmur, and you make an affronted noise. “It’s cute.”

“Have a nice night,” You both say to the cashier, but she’s only looking at Haechan, making irritation bubble up inside of you.

“You too,” She says to you absentmindedly before refocusing her attention on Haechan. “What’s your name?” Her tone seems to have changed entirely from the professional, “customer service” voice she was using with you to a more playful, lilting, flirtatious one with Haechan.

“Haechan,” He answers with a smile, slightly distracted as he fishes through the bag for the lighter he just purchased.

“Have a good night, Haechan.” She gives him a simpering smile, and you fight the urge to scowl. Surely you don’t look this pathetic when you look at him, right? 

“Thank you…Lily.” He smiles as he leans in to read her name tag, and you can see the excitement wash over her, your irritation only building, now directed at Haechan for either not realizing he’s being flirted with or for flirting back. 

You take the bag from his hand and shoot the cashier a tight-lipped smile as you exit the store, Haechan right behind you.

As Haechan lights up a joint he pulled from who knows where, you rummage through the bag for a pack of gummy sharks, opening them immediately upon finding them and putting one in your mouth, chewing grumpily. 

“You ready?” Haechan asks, and you nod, barely looking at him. As you two start walking, he offers you the joint which you accept begrudgingly, figuring your high needs a little jumpstart. 

“Look at you, branching out,” Haechan chuckles, and you shoot him a side-eyed glance, not in the mood for joking around with him. 

You take two pulls of the joint and hold each one in until you feel that dull ache in the back of your throat before exhaling slowly. Not before long, the effects seem to have started already, the joint mixing in with the gradually-taking-effect edible as a serenity overtakes your mind, a dopey little smile coming to your face. 

When you go to hand the joint back, you look at Haechan and are reminded all over again of the petty little reason you’re upset with him, the irritation not as strong now that the weed’s more in your system, the feeling having morphed into a more petulant annoyance. You two walk in silence before you hear a small chuckle that warrants a sideways look at your walking companion, granting you with the knowledge that Haechan is looking directly at you, studying your features with a sort of calm amusement.

“Look somewhere else.” You grouch, and Haechan snickers around the joint, smoke coming out of his nose briefly before he composes himself and exhales fully.

“And where did this little attitude come from, hm?” Haechan asks lightheartedly, and your brows furrow in aggravation.

“Oh, I don’t know,” You counter with a pointed huff. “Maybe I picked it up at the convenience store while you and the cashier—I believe her name was Lily—were flirting and exchanging names and shit.” The laugh Haechan lets out startles you and you glare at him petulantly. “What’s so funny?”

“I wasn’t flirting,” Haechan explains to you as calmly as he can, “I was being friendly.” His words comfort you somewhat before—“I think it’s cute that you’re jealous, though.”

“I–what? Jealous? I’m not jealous!” You exclaim defensively, far too vehemently to be even remotely convincing.

“Mm, yeah, sure.” He chuckles. “C’mere.” He wraps an arm around your waist, grabbing you firmly as he pulls you closer into his side. “Why are you jealous, angel? You know, I’d literally make out with you in front of her if that’ll help.”

“Haechan, shut up.” You can’t help but laugh at the notion, only spurring him on further.

“I’m serious; we can go back right now.” Haechan offers, and you roll your eyes, now feeling significantly better.

“It’s fine,” You insist.

“Good. Does that mean you’ll stop sulking, as cute as it was to witness?” He asks, and you frown one more time for good measure before letting your features relax. “Good,” He praises you, albeit a bit patronizingly, as you two approach Jeno’s doorstep once more. He knocks and the door opens almost immediately, Haechan catching it and jerking his chin towards the inside of the house as he tells you to enter first. “It’s a bit of a shame though,” He says as you pass by him, and you look at him curiously. “I almost got the chance to kiss you until that pretty little pout went away.” He muses thoughtfully, and your breath catches in your throat, all banter dying on your tongue as your mind is flooded with thoughts of Haechan kissing you, the way his lips felt earlier for those four blissful seconds, how firm his grip around your waist was—

“What?” Haechan asks with a growing grin as he shuts the door behind himself and locks it. “No witty remark from my girl? Nothing clever to come back with?” He’s teasing you and if you had your wits more about you, you’d be able to handle it, but your mind is otherwise occupied.

“Shut up.” You huff, turning your nose up and walking further into the house, making a beeline for the kitchen to grab a cup of water or something to calm your nerves. When you get to the kitchen, you realize a bit belatedly that Haechan isn’t still with you, an exhale of both relief and disappointment leaving you as you realize he must have gotten pulled away by a friend of his or something. 

You lean your back against the fridge and close your eyes, breathing in deeply as you try to make sense of your feelings and your high, your mind a bit fuzzy as you wrap your head around everything that’s occurred. Your moment of tranquility doesn’t last long; your name is called, just loudly enough to be heard amidst the music and people talking, and sternly enough that you know exactly who the voice belongs to.

“Is that all you wore to this? That’s not even your jacket, it’s Haechan’s—are you telling me you didn’t bring a jacket?” Jeno is in front of you in what feels like an instant, the blond male staring you down in both concern and disapproval.

“Oh, boy,” You heave a heavy sigh as Jeno prepares to launch into his rant about infectious illnesses and the importance of dressing for the weather.

After a while of wandering around the party, catching up with some people you haven’t seen in a while, and talking to some friends you run into, you find yourself walking to Jeno’s back door and exiting into his backyard, needing a break from the smoke clouds and stifling weed smell. You’ve barely set both soles on the wooden back porch when you catch sight of the only other person outside with, apparently, the same idea as you, and your heart skips a beat as the person’s features become more prominent as your eyes adjust to the new lighting.

“Haechan?” You ask, thankfully concealing the swell of hope and excitement in your chest, and he turns around, gaze falling on you and his lips quirking up into a grin.

“Well, well, well.” Haechan drags the syllables out as you walk over to where he’s standing, his hands resting on the railing. “What a sight for sore eyes.”

“What are you doing out here by yourself?" You ask curiously, mirroring his position and facing out into Jeno’s mostly empty backyard, and Haechan turns his head to the side to look at you, his crooked smile never leaving his face.

"Waiting for you to follow me." He answers, and you scoff in amused disbelief, nudging him with your shoulder.

“How was I supposed to know where you went?" You question, confusion pushing to the forefront of your thoughts and emotions. Haechan looks at you with a patronizing lifting of his eyebrows and gestures towards himself pointedly.

"You found me, didn't you?"

You exhale loudly in amusement and roll your eyes, a laugh escaping you as you ask, “I’m serious! What brought you out here, for real?”

“I don't really know…” Haechan muses thoughtfully, his expression pensive. “What about you? Maybe your answer will inspire me.” He says jokingly, and you shrug, fingers distractedly running over the wooden railing and feeling all the different smooth and rough textures, your index finger thoughtfully tracing around a small piece of wood that sticks up, almost having given you a splinter.

“I guess I got bored and started wandering around and, well–here I am." You answer, and Haechan grins widely at you, leaning forward so he’s invading your personal space, his face directly in front of yours.

“Aww, did you miss me?” He asks teasingly, and you groan, rolling your eyes.

Yes. “No.”

“Mm, I don’t believe you.”

Good; you shouldn’t. “Well, you should.”

“That hurts, angel,” He feigns a hurt look, and you laugh as he clutches his chest and winces. “I thought I was special.” His word choice is nothing short of intentional, and your mind flashes back, yet again, to the moment you two shared earlier on the way to the convenience store.

“God, you know, you're lucky you're cute." You huff thoughtlessly, barely able to keep an annoyed expression in favor of the smile that keeps threatening to peek out, and you promptly freeze after you’ve spoken, eyes wide. 

Maybe he didn’t hear anything.

You look to your side to see Haechan staring directly at you with his eyebrows raised and a growing smirk.

"I’m sorry, what was that you said?" Haechan asks, tone laden with intrigue, and you swallow, plucking the could-have-been splinter from the railing and flicking it over the edge.

“…Nothing?" You try hopefully, and Haechan shakes his head.

“Nope.” 

“Haechan, I’m too sober for this,” You complain, and he hums in acknowledgement.

“Your high fading?” He questions, and nods in understanding at your hum of assent. ”I got you. Come with me.” Haechan’s fingers loop around your wrist and he starts to lead you back into the house party, stopping and looking back when he realizes you’re not moving for the second time tonight.

“We just got back!” You point out with a small laugh, and he shrugs dismissively, stepping closer to you. (His hand slips down from your wrist to lace his fingers with yours, the gesture forward enough that it sends butterflies up from your stomach into your throat yet subtle enough that you can safely choose, for your own sake, not to comment on it.)

“I don’t care,” Haechan replies plainly, his dark brown eyes practically pinning you in place with the intensity of his stare. “I want you all to myself.”

“How greedy of you.” You tease, and he groans, tossing his head back before looking at you again.

“Come on, don’t make me beg.” He urges, and your eyebrows raise before you even notice they have, a mischievous little smile growing on your face.

“Well, now that you mention it, I’d love to see you beg.” You taunt, and Haechan huffs and rolls his eyes, his grip on your hand tightening as he tugs you along with him.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” He mutters under his breath, and you pick up your feet at that, walking forward so you’re right next to him and can get a good side-view of his face.

“What was that?” You echo his words from earlier, and Haechan, to your surprise, turns and looks you directly in the eyes.

“I said that you’re lucky you’re so cute.” He repeats himself, and you open and close your mouth after realizing you don’t know what to say. “Yeah. Thankfully one of us can actually own up to their words.” He gives you a playfully pointed look and continues weaving through the crowd, both of you exiting the front door yet again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You bluff, and Haechan snorts.

“What a coincidence.” He comments in a deadpan tone.

You two head down the street, led by Haechan’s navigating skills, and you’re about to ask where exactly you two are headed when you look at Haechan’s side profile and find yourself distracted by his full lips. Your mind blanking, your thoughts are filled, for the umpteenth time, with thoughts of Haechan’s lips on yours, your cheek, jaw, neck, and maybe even lower–

“Don’t do that.” Haechan’s voice cuts through your reverie, and you blink at him in confusion, your head tilting to the side. His free hand comes up to your mouth and he tugs your bottom lip free from between your teeth where you suppose you’d been absentmindedly nibbling at it while thinking about kissing Haechan.

“Why not?” You ask, trying to keep the challenging edge out of your voice.

“You know what?” Haechan chuckles, his thumb grazing your chin as he drops his hand back to his side (you’re reminded once more that Haechan still hasn’t let go of your hand from earlier, but you’re not complaining) and faces front again. You finally realize where you two were heading as Haechan’s car comes into view, and you look at Haechan curiously, waiting not-so-patiently for the rest of his statement. He leans in to you, his lips brushing against the skin of your cheek before he reaches his destination of your ear where, to your surprise, he nips at your earlobe, a hitched gasp escaping you at the sudden sensation. Haechan’s next words are murmured in a low tone, but they’re saddled with so much confidence and assertion that they send a thrill of excitement down your spine and a warm rush of arousal blooming from your belly to the rest of your body.

“Fuck around and find out.”

#####

Haechan comes to stand directly in front of you and reaches for your chest, pausing when you yelp in surprise before continuing to reach into a pocket you didn’t know existed in his jacket, pulling out a small baggie of weed and a pack of rolling papers with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh,” You mumble softly, and Haechan chuckles.

“Oh.” He mimics you with a teasing smile, gesturing to the front of his car and you tilt your head to the side in confusion. “Sit.” He clarifies, and you comply, shrugging his jacket off enough so you can sit on it and shield the undersides of your bare legs from the cold metal of the hood of his car. What you don’t expect is for Haechan to move so he’s standing directly in front of you and to place his bag of weed and the rolling papers on one of your thighs. At your confused spluttering once he starts to roll the joint on your lap, he looks up at you with an expression so naturally questioning and expectant that it makes you wonder for a moment if this is normal and you’ve just been missing out.

“You’re making it on my leg.” You point out quietly, and he nods patronizingly. 

“I am. The hood of my car isn’t clean for me to make something that’s gonna go in our mouths.” He explains, and you nod in understanding. “Tongue out,” Haechan urges, and your eyes widen in disbelief, your brows furrowing in confusion. “Need you to seal the joint, angel.” He sighs in mock annoyance but you can see the beginnings of a fond smile on his lips.

“Why can’t you do it?” You ask curiously.

“Mouth feels dry,” He explains and you nod, figuring that’s as good of an answer as any.

“I don’t know which part to wet, though,” You say worriedly, and he shushes you softly.

“I’ll do all the work,” He assures you. “I just need you to be good and stick that little tongue out for me.” You try (and fail) to disregard the arousing factor to what he’s said, heat rushing to your face nonetheless and warming your cheeks as you shyly avert your gaze and let your tongue loll out of your mouth. “That’s it,” He mumbles encouragingly and drags the edge of the unsealed joint against your tongue carefully, his breath audibly catching when the side of his thumb makes contact with your tongue.

His caught off-guard response emboldens you somewhat, your eyes meeting his again and when his other thumb nears your tongue as he brings the paper from end to end, you flick your tongue against his thumb so subtly that you could deny it if he asked, but enough to make Haechan clear his throat thickly. He pulls the paper away from you, stepping back somewhat, and his gaze darkens as he watches you close your mouth and—

“What’d I say about that lip?” Haechan reminds you as he finishes rolling the joint, and you shrug carelessly.

“Can’t control it,” You counter with an edge to your voice that dares him to call you on it. 

He blinks at you impassively. “Maybe you should learn to control it before I can’t control myself.” His voice is barely above a mutter, but you hear him clear as day, a triumphant little smile appearing on your face. Haechan pulls out his lighter and brings the joint to his lips, lighting it and taking a couple of pulls. When he moves to pass it to you, he stops short at the look in your eyes and narrows his own. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Like what?” You ask with an innocent smile and sideways tilt of the head.

“Like you’re up to something.” He replies suspiciously, and you raise your hands defensively. “Come on,” Haechan drags the syllables out, stepping closer to you with a plaintive frown on his unbearably handsome face. “Tell me what you’re hiding, and…I’ll tell you what I’m hiding.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, and you pause, thinking it over.

“Mm…deal.” You finally reply, and his eyes widen in surprise as a wide smile takes over his features. 

“Don’t lie to me,” He warns you, and you frown, slightly offended.

“I would never lie to you.” You say sincerely. “Well—not a serious lie. Might lie for a joke or something.”

“I guess that’s pretty fair,” Haechan reasons. “Now tell me.”

You take a deep breath and steady your nerves as you prepare to speak, and Haechan leans forward, ready to hang on your every word.

“There’s…something…that I really, really want right now.” You say carefully, conveniently omitting the two facts that the something is a someone and that the very someone is standing directly in front of you.

“Yeah?” Haechan breathes, his hand falling to your knee as he brings the joint to your lips in a silent offer. You lean forward and take it into your mouth, taking a pull, and as you hold the smoke inside of you for as long as you can bear it, he speaks again. “What is that something?”

“…I feel like I’ve said too much already,” You balk as you exhale, backing out as you realize there really isn’t any way to avoid approaching the topic of your not-so-little crush on the male standing in front of you. Even if everyone knows, it’s an entirely different situation to admit to it.

“Oh, come on,” Haechan complains, and you start to whine loudly in protest.

“I don’t want to—”

“But you barely said anything,” Haechan laments, and you frown deeply.

“It’s embarrassing.” You gripe.

“Aw, the poor baby.” Haechan mocks your whining, which subsequently only makes your whining worse. 

“It’s not funny!” You whine, pushing at his chest lightly. 

“I’m not laughing!” He’s still mocking your voice with a wicked grin on his face, and you groan, glowering at him petulantly.

“You’re mean.” You huff, and Haechan snorts, leaning forward to your ear.

“You know you like it.” He replies with a cocky grin, and you pause, your whole brain feeling like it’s crashed, rebooted, and crashed again as the flirtatious words rattle around in your head. Haechan pulls back from you slowly and you two stare each other down, your eyes drifting down to his lips for the millionth time, and—

“You’re doing that on purpose, aren’t you?” Haechan asks in a low, serious voice, and you blink twice, startled. You go to speak and realize that you were nibbling at your bottom lip again, the gesture not going unnoticed by Haechan, who is staring intently at your mouth.

“No?” You answer, confused.

“I feel like you are.” Haechan scrutinizes your slightly lost expression as he continues speaking, “I mean, you know what it does to me–”

“No, I don’t.” You butt in, and Haechan raises his eyebrows skeptically.

“No? You don’t know? Let me give you a hint.” Haechan’s hand on your knee slips up your leg to grip your thigh, and he guides your knee to press against the front of his pants, causing you to inhale sharply at the feeling of your knee pressed against his very firm erection. “You feel that?” His voice is low and breathy, and you keen weakly before responding.

“Yeah,” You say, nodding distractedly as your mind swirls with thoughts and desires of Haechan’s hands and lips all over you, of him pushing into you and filling you up nice and deep—you’re a goner at this point.

“That’s what it does to me—what you do to me.” Haechan asserts firmly.

“Fuck.” When Haechan goes to move back, you’re moving before you can even register it, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking him back into close quarters with you. “Don’t move,” You plead breathlessly. “Please.”

“Pretty girl wants me to stay, yeah?” He asks softly, tone saccharine sweet with feigned pity, and you nod, whining quietly as your legs tighten. “My pretty girl wants to feel me pressed up against her, right? You want to feel my cock pressing against your leg?” At your vehement nod, Haechan chuckles darkly and puts out the now forgotten joint, tucking it into the jacket pocket he got the weed from earlier. “How does this feel, hm?” His hand moves up from your knee to your thigh to right between your legs, cupping your core through your shorts, and you moan lowly, rocking your hips forward into his palm. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you?”

“Yes–”

“Is this it, pretty girl? This what you wanted earlier?” His fingers deftly unbutton your shorts, dragging the zipper down painfully slowly before guiding his hand into them, digits tracing up and down your clothed core over the very warm, very damp seat of your underwear, the fabric now soaked with your arousal.

“Yes, Haechan, please–” You grip at the front of his shirt, pulling him to you with a desperate moan. Haechan moves just as quickly as you do, and when your lips connect, he kisses you so passionately that he all but melts your brain, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you against him in a crushing embrace that slowly starts squeezing the wind out of you.

“Fucking finally,” He growls into your mouth, and you cry out when his teeth sink into your bottom lip. “That feel good?” He grunts as his fingers massage slow, heavy circles around your clit, and you nod eagerly but buck against him, still eager for more. “Now who’s greedy?” He taunts you, and you huff, trying to slow the movement of your hips to no avail. His tongue parts your lips more, slipping in and tasting the inside of your mouth slowly and deliberately, a stark contrast to the way his lips were just ravaging yours a moment ago.

“God, Haechan, fuck,” You hiss when his hand sneaks into your underwear and starts to play with your clit, and he groans loudly, so loudly that you feel the need to look around and observe your surroundings to ensure your privacy.

“Aw, poor baby,” Haechan mumbles with a teasing pout, still matching your whiny lilt before he’s pressing himself against you and connecting your lips with his. “What am I going to do with you? So wet, you’re making a mess.” He pushes away from you abruptly, hand leaving your core, which is now clenching around nothing, to grip the front of the waist of your shorts and pull you forcefully to the edge of the hood of his car. He dives back in with his mouth, this time targeting your neck with wet, open-mouthed kisses, teeth dragging against your skin as his free hand gropes freely at your chest, kneading your breast in his palm and snaking up your shirt to trace teasingly light flicks and circles around your slowly pebbling nipple. 

“Wanna taste you,” He mutters gruffly before dropping to his knees unceremoniously, hands roughly yanking at your shorts as they jerkily come down your legs. He drops them carelessly on the ground and pulls your underwear down much slower and more carefully than he had your shorts, thankfully. “You know how long I’ve been thinking about this, angel?”

“No,” You answer, breathless as he stares up at you from his place between your legs.

“Longer than I can even remember.” He groans, reaching up and spreading you open with two fingers. Your face burns with embarrassment as he gazes at your exposed core, and the heat only intensifies when you look at him and see the intense look of desire and even hunger. “You always tease me, pretty girl.”

“I don’t,” You protest, but any other words die on your tongue as he leans forward and swipes his tongue up your folds, a sharp gasp leaving you instead. “Fuck,” You groan, and he matches the sound inadvertently as he shuffles forward and licks you again, moving to drape one of your thighs over his shoulder before tucking his face between your thighs and lapping at your arousal greedily. 

“All mine now,” He grunts in satisfaction, and you can only shudder in response, pleasure coursing through you starting from your core. His nose nudges your clit while his tongue busies itself with flicking his tongue over your entrance and a low hiss of pleasure escapes you, your hips bucking up into his face before you can stop yourself. He takes the hint incredibly well and drags his tongue up to your clit slowly, studying your reaction with curious eyes. “Like that?” He teases before swirling his tongue around your clit, slowly at first, then more and more rapidly as your breathing picks up. 

“Like that,” You breathily confirm with a vigorous nod of your head, and he chuckles, wrapping his lips around your clit and starting to suck as he presses two fingers to your entrance. You jolt in surprise when he starts to push into you, not stopping until he’s buried knuckle-deep in your core.

“God, you’re so tight,” He groans in awe, his fingers curling experimentally and staying curled when you cry out in pleasure. “Pretty pussy’s sucking my fingers in,” Haechan looks up at you with a smug grin, marveling at your glazed over eyes and parted lips as your breath comes out in shaky bursts.

“Haechan,” You whine, and he coos in fake sympathy, pulling his mouth away from your core to kiss, lick, and suck at the supple flesh of your inner thighs. 

“What is it, baby?” He taunts, and you whimper plaintively, bucking your hips up reflexively as you search for more stimulation. “Hm? Use your words.” Your face burns with humiliation as he talks down to you so plainly, but you swallow your pride enough not to protest. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want your mouth,” You murmur breathlessly, and he raises an eyebrow, dragging his tongue up your inner thigh just by your core as if proving a point.

“You have my mouth,” He points out, and you groan, half on the brink of throwing some sort of half-naked temper tantrum. 

“Not there,” You complain, and he turns his ear towards you as if to hear you better. “Haechan, please–” You beg, and he chuckles, his obvious amusement eviscerating the last of your patience, causing you to huff in aggravation and slide your fingers into his hair, curling until your fistful is tugging his hair none too gently, and he lets out a sinful groan of pain and pleasure, suddenly compliant as you pull him closer to your core. He drapes both of your legs over his shoulders and resumes eating you out with a fervor, fingers pumping in and out of you skillfully as he flicks your clit with his tongue in up-down motions. “Fuck, yes, just like that.” You encourage him, and he groans under his breath in ecstasy, pulling you closer until you’re almost falling off the hood.

“I got you,” He assures you, the words sending vibrations through your body as he refuses to move away from your core to speak, instead mumbling around your clit. “Taste so fucking good,” He mumbles, more to himself than anything else, and your head tips back in ecstasy as he delivers wet lash after lash of his tongue to your now hypersensitive bundle of nerves. 

When your breathing grows even more erratic and hitches, he flicks his gaze up to you, eyes probing and curious and something shifts behind his gaze as he realizes just how close you are. 

“You gonna come for me?” He asks, excitement and wonder creeping into his tone, and you don’t even have it in you to agree verbally, instead nodding your head emphatically as you lean back onto your forearms and let the pleasure slowly take over your senses.

His fingers curl forward and press against the fleshy bundle of nerves along your inner walls that has a sudden cry escaping you, Haechan focusing his attentions there and on your clit until you’re climaxing with a shudder of his name, legs pulling him closer to you as you ride out your high.

“That’s it, pretty, come undone for me.” He groans in delight as you gasp and whimper his name in ecstasy. When the sensations become too much, you sit up hurriedly, pushing at his shoulders to get him away from you and, thankfully, he obliges. He rocks back onto his soles as you catch your breath and stands up, chuckling when you yank him towards you by his belt, hands fumbling with the buckle clumsily in your eagerness as he watches you, amused.

“Haechan, take it off before I lose my patience,” You finally get his belt unbuckled and release him with a frustrated shove, glowering at the front of his pants with your arms crossed. Haechan snickers loudly at your state and tilts your head up by your chin, capturing your lips with his in a slow, passionate kiss. The taste of your arousal along with something very specifically Haechan has your head spinning, a wanton moan slipping from you and disappearing onto his tongue.

“Wanna know what I was thinking about earlier?” He murmurs into the kiss, and you nod, a gasp escaping you when you feel the head of his cock pressing up against your entrance. He slowly guides the head of his cock up and down your slit, groaning under his breath as your arousal coats his length. “Was thinking about how pretty I bet you’d look and sound when you cum.” Haechan grunts, and your breath catches as desire builds up in your throat.

“Yeah?” You ask breathlessly, the sound whiny as his cock nudges the underside of your clit and you hiss loudly in pleasure. 

“Yeah,” He confirms with a sweet, slightly condescending lilt, “and, baby, you’re even better than anything I could ever dream up.” He purrs, and you cry out weakly as he pushes into you slightly, the thick head of his length just making it past your entrance. “Your cute little faces and your noises, God, fuck—”

“Haechan,” You manage to get out, and he looks up from between your legs to lock eyes with you, his gaze heavy-lidded with desire and eyes blazing with intensity. “Please fuck me,” You whine, and he hisses in surprise, eyes widening slightly before he nods urgently, bracing one hand on the hood of the car beside you.

“Anything for my girl,” He says distractedly before shooting you a grin and wink almost as a reflex. He pushes into you slowly, his groan mixing with your shudder in the cool night air and the feeling of being so perfectly full as he bottoms out has your eyelids fluttering shut. “Wanna see those pretty eyes while I fuck you, angel.” He says in a low murmur, and you reopen your eyes with difficulty to meet eyes with Haechan, whose gaze is blazing with so much intensity that you feel heat rising to your face.

He pulls out of you and pushes back in slowly, as if assessing how ready you are, and when you lock your legs around him tighter, he lets out a breathless chuckle, looking from your face to where you two are joined together and back to your face before pulling back out and snapping his hips forward, bottoming out so suddenly that it pulls an involuntary whine of pleasure from you.

“Shit, you’re so tight, baby.” Haechan hisses in surprise, biting down on his bottom lip as he thrusts in and out of you. “Can barely pull out, you keep tightening around my cock like that.”

“Haechan, stop teasing me,” You complain, and he laughs, cupping the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss.

“You get so cute when I tease you, though.” He purrs into the kiss and, before you can say anything in response, snaps his hips into yours so forcefully that it sends you sliding up the hood of the car slightly, his jacket thankfully still protecting your legs from the cold metal. You cry out in surprise, and he grins, his fingers snaking up your neck from the base to curl in the hair at the nape, his hand tugging until your head is tipped back, exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity immediately, lips attaching to your neck as he sucks, licks, and kisses your skin, teeth occasionally sinking into your flesh and only retracting when a whine escapes you, his lips returning to press apologetic kisses to the indentation marks from his teeth. 

“Hae—chan,” You gasp out as he fucks into you, and his responding chuckle is so sinister that it sends a rush of excitement through you, almost evoking another moan.

“You like that, yeah? You keep letting out those pretty moans and we’re not gonna be alone for much longer.” He reminds you, and you keen softly as you try to keep in your sounds of pleasure. “Unless you want us to get caught.” He says slowly, and you look at him with wide eyes, shaking your head vigorously. “You sure?” He teases, speech abrupt from his thrusting.

“Please,” You whimper, and he pulls your hair until your head is tipped back as far as it can comfortably go, latching his lips onto the pulse point on the side of your neck and sucking a bruise into the skin there.

“Pretty girl wants someone to come out of their house and see how good she can take it on the hood of my car?” He’s delighted by how frustrated you’re getting, every whine, huff, and groan you let out met with his own coos of feigned sympathy as he watches you with bright eyes. 

“Haechan, I’m close—” You moan out.

“I know, baby, I know.” He shushes you soothingly, and his hand moves from your hip to slip between your legs to play with your clit, fingers persistent and moving to follow you even as you gasp and jolt away from him. “Don’t run from it, just be good, angel.” Haechan’s coaxing isn’t helping your attempts to stay calm at all, the pleasure building even more rapidly now, and it’s not long before you’re climaxing around him with a cry of his name, your body stiffening before it goes limp for a moment, rendering you a rag doll that Haechan continues to drive his hips into in search of his own climax. When your hips reflexively jerk away from his fingers on your clit and you’re letting out sharp breaths and whines, Haechan pins you in place with his hips, angling himself so he’s fucking down into you, his cock reaching places you’d barely become acquainted with. “What did I say? Don’t run from it,” He pants, and you sniffle as tears well up in your eyes from the overwhelming sensations.

“Haechan,” You plead desperately, nails digging into his arm slightly, and he groans in ecstasy, locking eyes with you.

“Aw, don’t cry, pretty girl.” He coos sweetly, and you think for a moment that he’s going to give you a break, but he just presses his fingers against you harder and moves them even more determinedly. “Actually? Go ahead and cry for me, baby. It’ll make me finish faster.” He taunts, and you let out a pathetic little wail as your poor clit is subjected to intense overstimulation, a few tears actually spilling over your bottom lashes and down your cheeks. “Almost there, baby. You’re gonna give me one more, okay?”

“I can’t–” You start.

“I wasn’t asking.” The finality in his tone makes your eyes roll back into your head with pleasure, everything becoming too much as he guides you through a jerky, powerful climax that has you tensing your abdomen so hard that you fear it’ll cramp. “That’s it, fuck,” He hisses, his head falling forward to rest his forehead against yours as his thrusts come to a gradual stop, Haechan bottoming out in you entirely as he releases into you. His eyes screwed shut and his jaw dropped, he looks unrealistically attractive like this, and your admiration is short-lived as his eyes slowly reopen and focus on your lips. He leans forward to catch your lips with his and kisses you so smoothly, it feels like you’ve been doing this for years, with his tongue gliding against yours at just the right moments, teeth tugging at your bottom lip just hard enough to make you whimper, and his hands stroking your sides, caressing your curves as he re-acquaints himself with the taste of you. 

You’re not sure how long you two just remain there kissing, but after some time, Haechan breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

“You have,” He says breathlessly, chest heaving, “no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“I bet I have a pretty good guess.” You reply with a wry smile, and Haechan grins, squeezing your hips gently.

“What if we get all cleaned up, hm? My car has heating.” He murmurs, and you freeze.

“Your c—Haechan, we could have done that in the comfort of your car? Your warm car?” You splutter, and he grins sheepishly.

“Sorry, angel. Just thought it’d be hot on the hood.” He admits, and you roll your eyes, not yet wanting to admit he has a point.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah—get me into the warmth.” You huff.

“There’s something so healing about smoking after midnight.” Haechan muses, his fingers trailing over your thighs lightly, reverently, even. His backseat is surprisingly comfortable, but you’re willing to bet that being curled up against his chest is playing a large factor. 

“Mm, yeah,” You hum thoughtfully, nodding. “It’s like a reset.” 

“Exactly,” Haechan says, nodding. “You get me, angel.” He looks down at where you’re resting your head against him and smiles fondly, gesturing at the joint he revived from earlier between his fingers questioningly. “You want some?”

“Mm…yeah.” You decide, and the corner of his mouth quirks up into a crooked grin before he takes a long drag of the joint, closing his eyes as he holds it in for several beats. He tucks a finger under your chin and tilts your head up to his, eyes only opening to shoot you a wink before his lips are on yours and he exhales the remainder of the smoke into your mouth. 

White smoke billows out from your mouths as you shift to get more comfortable and kiss him deeper, and he chuckles, flicking at your bottom lip with his tongue. When you two part, your lids are heavier than before, either from the weed in your system or from the arousal buzzing through your body, and Haechan leans in again, pecking the little pucker left behind on your lips from his kiss.

“You’re so cute,” He groans, tossing his head back dramatically. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You could always kiss me again.” You suggest, and when he grins widely at you, you smile innocently, yelping and laughing in surprise when he shifts to move on top of you and hover just above your face, the joint now lying forgotten in the makeshift ashtray Haechan pulled out of his glove compartment and set between the two front seats. You two stare each other down for what feels like ages, your gaze occasionally drifting to his lips, and—

“You and that lip,” He growls, leaning down and kissing you again. He rolls his hips down against yours as your lips move against each other’s, and you can’t help but giggle mischievously, provoking Haechan to pull back and scrutinize your expression. “…You were doing that on purpose!”

“What, the lip biting?” You ask curiously, and Haechan just stares at you, his accusatory expression unwavering. “Yeah, that was partially on purpose the last couple of times.” You smile devilishly, and he huffs indignantly.

“Why are you like this?” He groans, unable to hide his laughter, and you shrug, feigning innocence once more.

“I thought if I made you kinda mad, you’d fuck me harder.” You admit with a little smile, and his brows practically shoot up into his hairline as he regards you incredulously.

“You are such a little minx,” Haechan grunts before pressing his lips to yours again, and you can’t seem to stop giggling into the kiss, your smile too wide to kiss him properly. “Do you have any idea,” He mumbles into the kiss, “just how good you’re gonna get it later?”

“No…” You drag out the syllable as you look up at him curiously. “Maybe you should give me a sneak peek.” You suggest, and he nods.

“Maybe I should,” He agrees, and excitement flares up in your chest like a firework. “First, though, do you wanna get out of here?”

“The car?” You ask, confused, and he snorts, shaking his head slowly.

“This area,” Haechan clarifies.

“And go where?” You follow up with another question, and he pauses to think.

“On a scale of one to ten, how do you feel about tacos right now?” He asks, and your eyes widen as you nod vigorously.

“Oh, fuck yeah.” You agree eagerly. Haechan laughs at your excited state and nods in understanding, moving from on top of you and shifting to let you sit up.

“We can get tacos,” He starts, “and we can go back to my place…if you want.”

“Sure thing,” You say with an eager smile, and Haechan kisses your lips, your cheek, then trails kisses down to the back of your hand, looking up at you with warm brown eyes.

“Great,” He answers, relieved, and as you climb to the passenger seat, he slides a hand up the back of your thigh and pinches your ass, a cheeky, self-satisfied grin on his face when you whirl around to look at him. “Not sorry,” He shrugs carelessly, and you scoff, barely hiding your smile in time as you face forward.

Haechan takes the easier route, getting out of the car and re-entering into the driver’s seat, and he turns to look at you, wiggling his brows playfully. 

“Wanna know what I’m thinking about?” He asks.

“Sure,” You answer, and he starts the car, carefully pulling out of his parking spot and driving down the street. 

“I’m thinking about how you told me you bit your lip on purpose so I’d fuck you harder.” He chuckles in disbelief.

“You weren’t even that mean to me because of it,” You point out, pouting slightly, and he arches a brow without looking away from the road, the sight almost unbearably attractive. 

“What if I like you too much to be mean to you?” He counters, and you huff, shifting in your seat so you’re angled towards him.

“Well, like me just a little less so you can do a little more mean stuff next time.” Haechan laughs at your half-advice, half-plea for him, and you whine, barely restraining the urge to stomp your foot. “I mean it!”

“Liking you less won’t happen, angel.” He assures you, continuing before you can speak. “I can make the mean thing work, though.” 

“That’s all I ask.” You say, raising your hands defensively, and his hand closest to you leaves the steering wheel as he links his fingers with yours, Haechan now driving one-handed down the road.

“Anything for my girl.”

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VENMO !! CASHAPP !! KO-FI !! WISHLIST !! (why?)

pussy fiend, part 2 (l.dh)

PAIRING ➢ haechan x fem!reader

GENRES & AUS ➢ smut, humor, fluff; college au, enemies to fuckbuddies to lovers, roommate au

WORD COUNT ➢ 68.9k total, in 2 parts (28.2k & 40.7k)

WARNINGS ➢ invasion of privacy, Haechan’s a sneaky little shit, cocky!Haechan, jokes about emotional manipulation, author pretends to know about stuff she doesn’t, mild dubcon

CONTENTS ➢ (mild) dubcon, bratty switches! boffum!, somnophilia, oral (receiving), allusions to a free-use kink but barely, rimming (receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, brief thigh job, praise, barely degradation but if you’re sensitive note that, some spit kink, panty sucking (?), Haechan’s a bit of a pain slut, fingering, biting

SUMMARY ➢ part two baybee!! uhhh he still likes you and is still a fiend for pussy bestie have fun :)

AUTHOR’S NOTE ➢ thank you so much for all the love on part one!! please do not get upset with me if you ignore the contents/warnings and get your feelings hurt; that is no one’s doing but yours.massive thank you to my love @ncteez for all her help with the initial idea and beta reading this monster for me :’)

PART ONE FOUND HERE !!

PSST—HEY, BESTIE!

As you’ve probably heard by now, Haechan—who is fucking bonkers—stole my sex toys and I’m pretty sure he’s not giving them back any time soon.

From one person with needs to another; if you can, please toss a couple bucks my way so I can replace the ones Haechan so cruelly and derangedly stole from me—I’m so pent up that I almost bit someone today. It’s bad.

If you can spare at least $1, maybe even $3 or as much as you can, it’d mean the world to me; he can’t seriously expect me to come and find him every time I want to get off, right?

Anyway, thanks for listening to my tale of woe, bestie. :( Thanks in advance for your help!

With love,

a very sexually frustrated (and broke) MC

Keep reading

between the sheets » ldh

genre | smut (mdni!!), haechan x reader

word count | 2.2k

summary | you find yourself chased out of your apartment in the dead of night, and desperately seeking a place to sleep, you somehow wind up at haechan’s door

warnings | smut, afab!reader and female pronouns, fingering + handjob, basically the “only one bed” trope, tiny mention of alcohol but no drinking

the time reads 2:47 am.

there’s not a single person, or even evidence of one, in sight. the empty expanse of the hall is left in cold silence, besides the torrent of the rain and hail against the window panes. the stale air feels as though it chills you down to the bone. you squeeze your eyes shut, as the burning glow of the fluorescent lights makes them sting, and you bury your face in the blanket you have draped around you like a cape.

you heave a heavy sigh, banging your fist against the door in front of you again, louder this time. you know haechan isn’t a light sleeper, but he lives in your apartment complex and it’s the only place you could think to go at this time of night in this severe of a storm. you’d called him a few times, but with no answer to any of them you assumed he slept through each ring.

you begin to become frustrated, lowering yourself to plop down and sit criss-cross on the dingy carpet. a strike of lightening cracks through the eerie darkness outside the window, a deep boom of thunder following soon after. contemplating your next move, you rest your head in your palms. the fatigue starts crawling to your head; the strange calm of the harsh rain could lull you to sleep right here if you let it.

you decide to try calling haechan one more time. “hyuckie” displays on the screen as you rest your phone on your knee, growing more hopeless with each second it continues to ring. even if it means you have to camp out in the hallway, there’s no way you’re going back to your apartment.

finally the phone stops ringing, and you hear rustling on the other end of the line. you perk up, grabbing the phone off of your leg to lift it to your ear.

“whaaaat?” haechan answers, audibly tired.

“hey, um,” you start timidly. “can you let me in? i’m outside.”

you weren’t sure what you had expected his response to be, and really, there wasn’t one. he just ends the call, and for a fleeting second your heart drops.

until you hear muffled noises deep within his apartment. you glance up at the door and lean in to listen a little closer.

shuffling. haechan’s sleepy grumbling. a faint thump. “oww!” he whines, and you assume he’s stubbed his toe on his coffee table. you breathe a sigh of relief as you hear him coming closer.

the door swings open, revealing a very exhausted looking haechan. your eyes trail up his fleece pajama pants and white tshirt to his face. he squints against the bright light, looking down at you through one eye as he rubs the other with the side of his hand. you give him a sheepish smile from the floor, watching him balance himself against the doorway. you wonder what he could possibly be thinking upon seeing you, sitting desperately at his doorstep, wearing nothing but a thin top and shorts, and a throw blanket veiled over your hunched shoulders.

“what are you doing?” he grumbles softly, sifting his fingers through his sloppy hair. thunder rumbles through the sky again, vibrating the walls around you.

you bring yourself up from the floor, pulling your small blanket tighter around yourself. “i’m sorry, can i- is it okay if i- if i sleep here?” you ask with a small hesitant voice, suddenly realizing that you really didn't have a plan for what to say if he opened the door.

haechan’s brow furrows. the wheels almost visibly struggle to turn in his drowsy head. a moment of harsh quiet hangs in the air between you.

“please?” you finally speak, more hushed this time.

his gaze on you softens just a bit after hearing your plea. you aren’t quite sure why it changed so suddenly; maybe the desperation was on your face, or maybe he picked up on how your voice was an inch from breaking.

“yeah, uh- yeah of course,” he answers, and he steps back from the doorway to allow you inside. you give him a small smile and breathe a relieved “thank you” as you slip past him.

dull, cloudy moonlight filters through the large windows, replacing the buzzing white light from the hall as haechan closes the door behind him. you allow your eyes to adjust to the new darkness, maneuvering your way around the furniture to sit yourself on his couch. he turns and walks the other way with a quiet hum, making his way to his kitchen.

as you situate yourself on the cushions, you feel uneasy. you were no stranger to haechan or his apartment- you weren’t even a stranger to sleeping on this very couch, but that had always been accompanied by having just a bit too much liquor in your blood and a few more wasted friends littered across the floor.

you'd never seen his apartment so…still.

you try your best to snuggle comfortably into your small blanket, folding your legs up beside you and leaning to lay your head on the arm rest. as you do, haechan emerges from around the corner and makes a lazy trail back to his bedroom with a bottle of water swinging in his hand.

but he stops and turns around, his eyes landing on you, curled up in the corner of his couch.

“what are you doing?” he questions a second time.

“what do you mean?”

silence lingers once more. he cracks his bottle open, taking a few thick gulps. he leans back against the wall as he screws the cap back on.

“why are you on the couch? get up, come on.”

confusion wracks your brain. haechan casually approaches you and holds out his hand. as you stare at it for a moment, dumbfounded, you finally understand what he means.

“no- no its okay, i don’t want to be any more of a burden-“

haechan says your name, simple and soft, and you stop short.

“it’s freezing, i’m not letting you sleep on the couch. come on.”

something feels different.

you look up at him, standing over you. this is haechan- the look, the voice, everything. the very same haechan you’ve known all these years. lee donghyuck, who you’ve adored since you first met him. he’s loud and sarcastic and at times even a bit full of himself.

but in this moment, he’s… gentle. you melt under his gaze.

you raise your hand to take his, and he leads you to his room without another word.

stepping into haechan’s bedroom is like taking a leap of faith. its unknown to you, like unexplored waters. its cozier than you assumed it would be. a homey sort of smell wafts into you as he guides you toward the bed, and a mellow light glows from a small lamp on his bedside table. the blankets and pillows look comfortable and plush, still in disarray from slumber.

the bed looks incredibly inviting; you stare at the covers, twisting the hem of your shirt between your fingers. haechan clicks the lamp off and settles between the sheets on the opposite side like he never left.

you give him an apprehensive look in the dim moonlight. he reaches up to grab your wrist, pausing to glance up at you as if to ask permission, and you let him pull you down onto the mattress. haechan tugs the blankets up and around you in one swift motion. a shudder spills down your spine as the cold sheet settles around your body.

in an attempt to get comfortable, you shuffle around a bit and roll over on your side. coming eye to eye with him, it dawns on you how close to him you actually are.

for the next few lofty minutes, everything feels rooted in time. from the window comes winds howling through the trees and pouring rain, and from your chest comes the relentless drumming of your heartbeat. haechan’s sleepy gaze is lazily fixed on you. the heat in your cheeks is so intense you hope he can't feel it on his own.

haechan is so nonchalant it feels like you’re in different worlds. your eyes flicker across his silhouette; he’s so incredibly handsome up close you nearly swoon. you swear there’s electricity buzzing across the short space between you.

“you’re really pretty when you’re nervous.”

your mind stutters. “i’m not nervous!” you blurt out.

“oh yeah? are you shivering because you’re cold, then?”

you hadn't realized you were still trembling. the beating of your heart in your throat makes it impossible to reply. haechan’s hand moves under the covers and gently snakes around you to rest on the small of your back, making your breath falter. before you even know it’s happened, he’s pulled you closer to him. your arm flies up to steady yourself before you crash into him from the force, and your hand lands on his chest. haechan’s warmth envelopes you, and it's borderline intoxicating.

“better?”

for a long moment, you stare at each other, breathing the same air, hearts beating in tandem.

“is this real?” the words had come out before you could stop them.

a smirk appears on haechan’s lips. “i hope so,” he breathes.

his fingers trace up your spine, leaving goosebumps on your skin in their wake. when his hand tenderly cups your cheek your breathing becomes heavy and labored, stomach fluttering. you subconsciously lean into his touch as his thumb strokes the apple of your cheek. you see his eyes break away from yours and land on your parted lips.

“can i kiss you?”

the most subtle of nods is all you can muster.

his mouth meets yours, simple and sweet, just briefly before he pulls away. even such a small moment felt like a dream.

you then slide your hand up his chest, you eyes never leaving his. you lean into him again. hot breath falling on his damp lips, your nose gingerly brushing against his. you lace your fingers in his thick locks, delicately scratching at his scalp.

his eyes leave yours as they flutter closed. he lets out the most docile whine- so small you almost missed it- and you cave.

you bring him in and attach your lips once again. this one is messier; your nerves dissolve as the only sense whirling through your entire being is the desire you feel. haechan lets out a low groan into your mouth, fingers slipping delicately across the skin of your hip, then sliding down to grip the back of your thigh and drag your leg up and over his waist. you moan into the heated kiss, suddenly feeling how wet you are as your legs separate from each other.

as one hand continues to tug his hair, the other drifts up to find purchase on his shoulder, knuckles turning white as you dig your fingers in and pull your chest into his. you rock your hips on his thigh situated between your legs. haechan lets out a trembling breath as you brush against the erection behind his fleece pajama pants.

haechan’s fingers inch up the inside of your thigh, stopping just slightly above the bottom of your shorts and skating ever so softly across the hem of your underwear. your body temperature raises with excitement.

he pulls his lips away from yours, breathing strained.

“is this okay?” he asks.

“yes,” you sigh.

pushing the fabric out of the way, haechan’s fingers brush against the sensitive area, and you let out a pathetic whimper at the slimmest about of contact. slow circles begin to trace around your clit, and you bite your lip as your head tilts back.

haechan’s hot mouth meets the spot on your neck just below your ear, leaving sloppy kisses across the sweaty skin. his fingers quicken against your pussy, dipping in and out of your soaked entrance.

“god,” haechan grumbles against your skin. “you have no idea how long i've wanted this to happen, pretty girl.” his sudden pet name for you makes you sink in his arms.

“i do,” you huff. “believe me, i do”

you trail a hand down to dip below the waistband of his pants. he chokes out a surprised groan when your silky fingers brush along the head of his hardened cock. you sink further to grip the base, stroking him up and down at an agonizing pace. he growls into your neck, sinking his teeth into your pulse.

as you work each other in sync, you grab his jaw and pull him up into a clumsy kiss. you swallow each others lewd sounds, striving to bring each other crashing into your release.

the tension building inside you threatens to spill over. “close- hah, close,” you mewl. he picks up the pace, his hand shaking, and not long after, you’re barreling headfirst into a blinding orgasm. you bury your face into haechan’s neck and cry out, your wet lips drooling on his shirt.

you keep up the momentum you've set, pumping haechan’s cock, and lift up your head to watch him cum as heavy breaths wrack your lungs. his chest rumbles with a low growl as he twitches in your hand and warm cum spills through your fingers. his brows draw together above his closed eyes, his jaw clenched so tight you fear his teeth might break.

vision fuzzy, lightheaded, you both take a few moments to regain your senses. you look up at him through your lashes, humid breaths spilling through the lazy grin on your lips.

“wow,” he huffs, admiring your post-cum glow, his eye lids heavy. “you should sleep over more often.”

“oh? why? so we can continue this where we left off?” you tease, your thumb brushing against his lower lip as he smiles. he leans down to meet you in another slow, sultry kiss, your dewey lips moving together in a perfectly languid flow.

“no, not just that,” he responds upon pulling away. “but that would be nice.” he winks.

gorgeous ii | lmh ( ft. ldh )

part i

ever since your shower tryst with mark, donghyuck has been feeling left out, and he’s been hinting at it. not so subtly. pretty damn explicitly, actually. after multiple failed attempts at reassuring him you’re all still a well-oiled machine of a team, you’re left with only one solution.

interestingly, it’s not an option anyone seems to be too averse to.

pairing: mark x reader x donghyuck rating: R genre: humor, smut warnings: once again sorta pwp, basically hints at a mild level of polyamory kind of idk man, a threesome?? is a threesome a warning idk, mild mommy!kink for reader, slightly more pronounced daddy!kink for mark, mild baby!kink for donghyuck, some kinda praise kink for pretty much everyone, anal/double penetration, super brief impregnation!kink that i wish i had done more of but felt like it would be overkill, cum…play sjdfgj,,, light choking nothing major, more dirty talk, just. Nastie stuff i guess. please be sure that you are 18+ to read! word count: 16.6k

author’s notes : i’m simply deeply impatient and needed to post this i apologize :^)

You really should have picked up all the signs a little sooner.  

Donghyuck has never been good at acting, so he’s never been intensely successful at hiding his feelings; in fact, he’d once gotten a warning letter for looking so bored in class the teacher couldn’t overlook it any longer. In hindsight, it should have been obvious, given the way he’d been acting.  

Then again, it was fairly easy to pass off his recent behavior as regular Donghyuck, only intensified. He had always liked hanging out with Mark, which meant he mostly enjoyed hanging around you, too. He’d once crashed in your room when Mark had been out for a weekend visit to Jeonju to see some distant relatives and Donghyuck had left his room key card in the electricity slot, much to the ire of your own roommate. He’d asked the both of you to come with him to the MMCA in Gangnam because he wanted someone to take proof photos of him (your job) and read the captions on the artworks before explaining them to him so he could write his reflection paper for his Art Studies class (Mark’s much more unfortunate job). And, of course, he’d bullied you and Mark into confessing your feelings for each other to each other, although you’ve grown to suspect, almost to the point of confirmation, that he had done it not so much in the spirit of support for young love but more in response to his own intense desire to cut down on the immense awkwardness in the atmosphere whenever the three of you hung out.  

His expectation had clearly been that you two would kiss and make up before you took him out of campus for a dinner that he would wheedle you and Mark into splitting only two ways. Technically, that had all worked out in his favor, apart from the fact that in between the kissing and the making up, you had shared a steamy shower with Mark in the boys’ locker room that had ultimately ended with you scaring away the school janitor and had kept Donghyuck waiting outside in the rain (sort of) for the better part of an hour.  

He’d played it cool at first, so it seemed; he’d asked for details, which you refused to divulge in excess, and he’d promised to pester Mark about it later on when it was just the two of them, only he received the same — if not a firmer — kind of rejection from the latter. He’d even taken fairly kindly to the suggestion that he stay in Renjun’s room for a couple of nights in the week that followed so that you could, in his words, desecrate the living space with your love, which clearly implied that he’d expected the two of you to just be going at it in the middle of the common area.  

Over time, though, he’s grown fairly more wary of the implications of the relationship. It seemed to have started when he’d come home from class to find you both in the kitchen, where you had apparently been “making out next to the honey butter chips” he’d been so “excited to eat, and now it’s just ruined,” and he’d refused to listen to the argument that it couldn’t possibly be a health hazard considering the bag was still sealed. Or, it might have started a little before that, when he had to desperately run to Renjun’s bathroom to pee because you had engaged Mark in a steamier and much more enthusiastic reenactment of your shower room scene and had locked the door (something that, at the time, was for Donghyuck’s benefit). The conversation that had followed when you’d come out to an out-of breath and clearly upset Donghyuck had been sheepish and fairly uncomfortable for all parties involved, and you’d taken great care to gloss over the fact that he’d heard you repeatedly and not at all abashedly egging Mark on with a few choice nicknames and phrases.

Possibly the biggest issue, though, was the one time you and Mark had gone out for a date. There aren’t a ton of options around the campus area that have good food at a college-student-acceptable price, so there are only two options: this one supposedly Italian restaurant owned by a man who constantly ends a rundown of the specials with the statement that you can leave without paying if you don’t like the food — which you’ve long since considered but Mark says it’s unethical (something you think is kind of characteristic but still wholly unfair for him to say) — and the place you often go to with the boys that serves breakfast for dinner. You’d been trying to wheedle Mark into finally getting free pasta with you by breaking his moral code, and he’d finally agreed (possibly because you’d literally backed him into a corner after football practice and begged, among other things, on your knees), but the place had been full up, and neither of you were willing to stick around for half an hour in line. The alternative you’d gone to had been fine; for the first time in your life, you’d gotten to order something other than pancakes and sausages with egg, and you’d found out that the place did actually make good food that wasn’t meant to be consumed at eight in the morning.  

For the most part, it had been a great experience; the perks of being friends with Mark beforehand was that you had just skipped the awkward small talk phase altogether. In fact, it had been basically like a normal evening hang-out from before, except for the fact that Mark seemed less reserved than he had been when you were just friends. Also, you had never hung out with him as a friend with the knowledge that you had essentially strong-armed him into committing moral suicide at a snobby pasta joint by blowing him like half an hour prior. Even if you never actually got to eat said pasta. So there was all that.  

It had been going well until Mark had asked you to pour him a glass of water. In the middle of filling up his glass, you’d heard a tap at the window to your left accompanied by a shadow that loomed over your table. You’d snapped your head to the side to see Lee fucking Donghyuck, pouting at the both of you and pointing accusingly at the half-eaten spaghetti and meatballs on the table. His breath had been fogging up the glass to the point that his entire face was blurry, and you couldn’t really understand anything he was saying, but it had sounded a little like pancakes and without me. You had gaped so much at him that you’d completely forgotten Mark’s glass was already full, and the water had spilled out all over the table and onto his lap. By the time the fog had cleared up, you were more concerned with the problem of your boyfriend looking like he’d just wet himself, and Donghyuck had skulked off into the darkness.  

Since then, Donghyuck’s moods have ranged from teasing, to hesitant, to downright disgruntled. He’d constantly announce himself before coming into a room where the both of you were, which was kind of annoying when you were together in the library. Renjun had even once come to you during a lunch break, pleading that you and Mark take him back because he was tired of stepping on Donghyuck’s face every time he had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. You’d argued that there was a wall and a door separating Mark’s and Donghyuck’s bedrooms from each other, but he’d just fired back with the suggestion that you could chip in for some quality noise-canceling headphones. The worst was when Mark had told you — half-laughing, half-incredulous — that Donghyuck had canceled their shared Netflix subscription because he was worried all the rom-coms the two of you watch together while boning would appear on his suggested list. Mark had been more insulted by the thought of being associated with rom-coms more than anything else in that conversation.

You decided to more actively include Donghyuck into your activities at that time, and you and Mark made a pact to never act like a couple in front of him. It seemed clear that was what Donghyuck had wanted. Still, when you’d asked him out to study, it had felt kind of weird considering that you were a level higher than him and could only confer with each other, leaving Donghyuck to look sourly at you across the table like you were seducing each other instead of asking questions about the worksheet. There had even been an instance where you’d gone out for a morning jog together, but Donghyuck’s legs were much longer than the both of yours, and he ended up creating some distance between himself and the two of you, which had just led him to whine at the both of you to hurry up since you were probably lagging behind on purpose so you could find a way to slip away under the bleachers and bang one out before he’d made it around the track.

The pinnacle of tension arrives on a Thursday night, when you urged the both of them to keep Donghyuck’s favorite tradition and have breakfast for dinner. It seemed like a good idea, bringing back that one activity that represented your friendship, and even Donghyuck didn’t resist the suggestion. The problems only start when the three of you were seated in the exact same booth you’d been on during that date, a fact that Donghyuck seems to remember vividly as he stares at the table for a good, long, and wholly excruciating second before sliding in with an unreadably calm expression. You make desperate eye contact with Mark, who had been moving to sit next to you already, and he does this weird jerky reaction before he backtracks and moves to sit next to Donghyuck instead.  

A silence falls over the three of you after your orders are placed, and Mark is playing with his glass, turning it around and around idly. Donghyuck, on the other hand, is staring directly at you, still kind of blank, his hands folded on the tabletop. You open your mouth, and his eyebrows go up, but you realize you have nothing to say and shut it again.  

“So,” Donghyuck starts after a while. “Was the pasta here any good?”  

“It was okay,” you reply after glancing at Mark, who seems unperturbed by everything else, a talent you wish you could possess. “A little rich, but mostly okay.”

“Have you guys gone to that pasta place across the student center?”

“No, but we wanted to.”

“On another date, you mean.”  

You don’t miss the sadness in his voice; even Mark looks up at him, then at you, but offers nothing to say, for some absurd reason.  

“Well… that’s still up in the air,” you wave the topic away, but Donghyuck presses on, possibly convinced that this is all part of the required conversation friends that hang out should have.  

“You guys know that you can get free pasta there if you lie to the owner and say it wasn’t good, right?”  

“Yeah, I… we heard,” you admit.  

“We were actually thinking of going there,” Mark finally chimes in, although the timing is terrible and Donghyuck’s face darkens considerably. “But it was full up.”

“So you guys ended up here,” Donghyuck says, finally piecing together the bigger picture. “At our regular restaurant. That’s… cool.”  

You frown at Mark, who doesn’t even look remotely remorseful; he just shrugs, a small jerk of the shoulders that Donghyuck misses.  

That had been the longest silence you’d shared since… ever; you can’t even remember the last time that you’d hung out with Donghyuck and it had been this quiet. Mark was one thing, but Donghyuck, for the most part, liked to talk, and so did you. You distinctly remember the restaurant constantly filled with chatter, mostly from your table. What had you even talked about back then that had lasted for hours? You distinctly remember an argument about Iron Man’s fate in the last Avengers movie that had gone on until the waitress had told you to leave because she had to close down and go home to her kids. Now, you can’t even ask Donghyuck what he thinks about the weather.

The food that comes to your table is appropriate for the mood; it’s stale and a little bland, since nobody seems to like eating breakfast for dinner anymore, which just means reheated pancakes and microwaved hotdogs. Even with that topic up in the air, no one really says anything; at one point, you’re so bored that you check your phone to see that Mark has butt texted you a couple of times.  

Donghyuck’s first tiny outburst happens midway through the meal. You desperately want to add some kind of flavor to your food, but you don’t know if you’re up to breaking the silence. The result is you coughing loudly — twice, because Mark doesn’t pay attention the first time — and eyeing the little pitcher of maple syrup by his elbow. He doesn’t grasp it fully and reaches out for the napkin stand instead, which just leads to you staring more intensely at the syrup, furrowing your eyebrows at it like it’s supposed to help. All he does is throw you a much more intense look of confusion.  

Donghyuck, who appears to have been watching this depressing miscommunication between the two of you since the beginning, suddenly speaks up.  

“Do you want me to leave, or something? You can just say so.”  

“What?” You snap your gaze to him, shocked to the point that you can’t even acknowledge Mark’s intelligence belatedly returning to him as he passes you the maple syrup. “Of course not. Why would you think we want that?”

“I don’t know. This,” he points his fork at the two of you. A drop of maple syrup falls off of it and onto the table. “This weird eyefucking thing you two are doing.”

“We’re not eyefucking. I was asking for the maple syrup,” you clarify.

“Oh. Okay.” He doesn’t seem entirely convinced. “Couldn’t you have just asked?”

You have no response to this, and Mark throws you a patronizing yeah, you could have look that you pointedly ignore because you can only feel like it had been his fault for not understanding your blinks and squints anyway.  

The second scene happens when you’re finished and waiting for the bill. At this point, the silence, which had only been interrupted by brief and insignificant comments from either you and Donghyuck, had become so unbearably stuffy that you feel close to tears. In your exasperation, you try to catch Mark’s attention, hoping to get him to pull his weight by saying something. Unfortunately, he’s busy going through his wallet and rearranging the notes from the 50,000’s down to the 1,000’s, and he doesn’t see anything. You move to an alternative plan, which is to kick his foot until he notices, but when your foot collides with something hard, it’s not him that reacts first.  

“Ow!” Donghyuck yells, and you start, sitting up straighter and reaching out to him on impulse. “What the fuck was that for?”  

“Sorry!” You half-stand, unsure of what to do; Donghyuck is looking up at you like a wounded dog, which is as much as you deserve. “Sorry, sorry! I wasn’t — I didn’t mean — I was going for Mark!”  

“Why?” he demands, brow furrowing for a moment before they shoot up, and his expression morphs into one of disgust. “That’s nasty, noona!”

“What? No, I wasn’t — !” You throw your hands up, embarrassed and irritated all at once. “I was just trying to get his attention!”

“How?”

“I don’t know! He wasn’t looking, and it just felt weird, and I wanted him to say something!”  

“Really? All of this kama sutra shit while I’m around? You guys are just shoving it into my face at this point.”  

“Technically,” Mark says, now very unhelpfully and — more to the fact — uselessly. “We try to keep you out of the loop as much as possible.”

Donghyuck looks incensed, so this is clearly not the response he’d wanted. “How come I’m just supposed to sit here and watch you two make out without me and take it all in quietly? You could at least try to make me less of a third wheel when we’re together.”  

“Donghyuck, we’re not trying to make you a third wheel,” you reason. “I know it feels that way, but nothing’s changed.”

“Technically—” Mark starts again, and you kick him, this time with more precision, into silence. He falls quiet without argument.  

“It feels that way because it is that way. You guys are just living your best lives in love without me.” Donghyuck stands up, and you watch him do so with confusion and a ton of regret on your face. “Can we go back now? I have a presentation tomorrow and I want to make sure my PowerPoint doesn’t have any typos.”  

You watch in helpless disappointment as Mark obediently slips out of the booth so Donghyuck can walk out as well; after a moment of dumbly staring at them fixing their coat collars, you step out and join them. The restaurant’s lights shut off when you exit, and the three of you walk quietly back home. You feel Mark’s hand bump into yours a couple of times by accident, but on the third time, his fingers lace into yours, and he gives them a tight, reassuring squeeze.  

Donghyuck disappears into his room after announcing that he’s bought some new ear plugs from the pharmacy and had been planning on testing them out anyway, but the statement that you guys can do whatever you like seems half-hearted. To be safe, you and Mark take quick, separate showers before crawling into his bed. You keep the lights on because you’re fairly certain he’s going to fall asleep if he’s in the dark for more than ten minutes, and you want to make sure he stays up so that you can get some fairly substantial feedback when you unload the thoughts plaguing you since the restaurant experience.  

Still, you’re silent for the first few moments, trying to collect yourself into articulating your feelings. Mark is on his side, an elbow propping his head up, and his palm is laying on your stomach, rubbing it in small, gentle circles. The moments tick by, and neither of you speak until he bends down to press a kiss to your shoulder.  

“You gonna break up with me or something?” He chuckles softly after letting you have your long bout of silence. “I’m willing to beg if necessary.”  

“Isn’t it just weird?” You finally begin, ignoring his stupidly absurd question completely. He doesn’t even flinch at the volume difference between your voice and his. “I thought he was okay with it.”

“Me too. He even told me he was going to tell you he heard me jerking off in the shower after we studied for the Traditional History midterm if I didn’t confess to you.”  

“Yeah, and he — did you really do that?”  

“Obviously.” He doesn’t even turn red, or anything; Mark, since that day, has defied your personal expectations and grown immensely immune to feeling embarrassment when talking about the erotic. “That was too specific for me to make up.”

“What a coincidence,” you laugh. “I masturbated after that review session too.”  

“Really?”

“Your hair looked nice, plus you smelled super good.”

“I should go back to my old shampoo, if that’s what gets you running.”  

“I don’t really think it’s the shampoo,” you turn over as well, mimicking his position. His hand stays on you, now resting on the dip of your waist. “But about Donghyuck — is it mean that I feel like he’s overreacting?”  

“Not really, but only because it seems that way to me too. Like, now I have to pay for my own Netflix because he’s acting weird, which is just such a waste of money.” You think it’s a little bit funny that Mark’s still tied up on the Netflix issue, but you suppose that you’d be a little miffed if you had to redo your entire watchlist from scratch again too, so you opt not to say anything. “It’s really hard to overlook the fact that he thinks we’re doing everything in our power to stop being friends with him.”

“I know!” You say, louder than you should, and Mark’s finger flies to his lips as you both fall silent, listening for Donghyuck. You hear nothing, so you assume he hadn’t either. Still, you lower your voice to a much more acceptable decibel thereafter. “I know. It was like that time he spent playing annoying matchmaker had just flown out of the window.”  

“But we can’t blame him either,” Mark sighs softly, fingers drumming against your side. “Being a third wheel sucks. We all know that. We’ve all been there.”

“We’re not trying to actually exclude him when we’re together, though.”

“But we do.” He shrugs. “I mean, even without doing anything, we do. It’s already inherently different for him because he knows he’s not actually part of the equation.”  

“We can’t make him any more a part of this equation than we already have,” you frown.  

“I know that. Look — maybe he just needs a little bit of time to adjust. I’m sure he’s just reacting badly to change more than he is to our actual relationship.”  

“I guess,” you sigh again, heavily and more dramatically this time. “I just wish we could do something so he wouldn’t react badly at all.”

“We’ve tried. Maybe now just isn’t the right time.”  

The both of you fall into a thoughtful silence; you can see Mark’s eyelids getting heavy, and even you’re stifling a few yawns here and there. It seems the conversation’s mostly died out unresolved, but you’re not sure it’s actually ended; neither is Mark, who’s still watching you like he’s waiting for you to say something else. When you don’t, he leans in, pressing a small, sweet kiss to your forehead.  

The quiet is broken by Mark’s bedroom door flinging open. In the doorway stands Donghyuck, one earplug in his hand, the other wedged tightly into his ear. His bottom lip is jutting out already, which is a signal that he’s already prepared a full complaint report to file beforehand.  

“You guys could at least try to keep the sex down. There’s only two of you. There’s no way you’re having that much fun to make this much noise.”  

“We’re not even naked,” you respond in disbelief, twisting your torso to look at him. “We’re just talking.”  

“Oh.”  

Donghyuck rolls the earplug between his fingers, visibly embarrassed. You guess those things have been working well considering he hadn’t even heard you talking about anything before he’d burst in and make a small mental note to congratulate him on his great new investment. You watch him, waiting for him to say something — anything — about what’s bothering him and why he’s so intent on calling you out for the smallest things. Instead, he just gropes for the light switch on the wall next to him, pushing the button and plunging the three of you into darkness. He trudges away, closing the door behind himself while muttering something about energy conservation.  

You feel Mark shift; he takes the darkness as a signal that it’s time to sleep, so he lays down carefully on his side, his hand reaching out to rub at your back. Dismayed, you right your position, facing away from him and lying down as well. A moment later, you feel the warmth of his body against your back, and his breath blows lightly against your cheek.  

He dozes off five minutes in, and you know because his breathing becomes extremely deep and even. Even when you toy a little with his fingers, he doesn’t budge, and you lie there for what feels like hours trying to decode this weird situation. First the uncharacteristic silence and moodiness, followed by the weird experience in the restaurant. And now this, with him constantly expecting you to be ravaging each other, like his mind is just totally tunnel focusing on how everything you do is a byproduct of your being perpetually horny. It’s almost like he’s too weirdly interested in it, like he’s…  

You reach backwards, smacking Mark in the shoulder. He grunts in response but still doesn’t move, so you do it again, calling out to him. His grip tightens on your waist as he mumbles a sleepy what now?

“Do you remember what Donghyuck said in the restaurant?”  

“He hardly said anything.”  

“I know. But he said something weird about us.”

“What — that he thought we were eyefucking, or that he thought you were giving me a footjob?” Mark pauses for a moment. “By the way, out of pure curiosity, if we ever make a list of things we’re into, is that something you’d put or, like — because knowing you, I feel like it wouldn’t hurt to ask once —”

“No. No, he said something kind of wack, like,” you scrunch up your nose. “How come he has to sit there and watch us make out without him?”

“Yeah?” You can tell Mark is already drifting off again, so you turn around in an attempt to force him into the same epiphany you’ve experienced. Only one of his eyes is open and the other one is giving up pretty quickly too. “So?”  

“He was annoyed that we were making out,” you repeat. “Without him.”  

Carefully, almost comically, Mark’s other eye starts to open, and his eyebrows are also rising. He lifts his head off the pillow, gaping at you in sleepy shock.

“It can’t be.”

“You said we were leaving him out of the sex, and he looked really ticked off.”

“Yeah, because who wants to talk about sex over shit quality pancakes?”  

“There’s only two of you,” you mimic Donghyuck’s sleepy, irritated voice. “There’s no way you’re having that much fun to make this much noise.”  

Mark looks stumped. He’s actually reminiscent of a goldfish, his mouth opening and closing as he struggles to find the words. The only thing he can think of is a repeat of “It can’t be.”  

“Mark,” you say slowly. “What if we’ve been including Donghyuck in all the wrong things?”  

Surprisingly, it isn’t hard to convince Mark to play along. Maybe it’s because he’s not doing a lot of the proverbial heavy-lifting, or maybe he just knows there’s not much point in attempting to talk you out of anything once you’re convinced that you’re going to do it. Either way, he falls asleep in the middle of dazedly agreeing to what you’re planning, and when you wake up, he’s stuck a note to your forehead saying he’ll see you during practice and reminding you to eat your breakfast. Even Donghyuck is gone for his first class of the day.  

There’s a slightly new development when you go to practice after your classes, where the team captain, Sooyoung, instructs you all to go back to the locker room because the shipment of the new uniforms has finally arrived. You feel a slight twinge of resentment towards her, partly because the team had been waiting around under the heat of the afternoon sun for a good fifteen minutes before she’d arrived but also mostly because going back to the locker rooms means you can’t watch Mark do laps with the rest of the football team, a personal tradition you’ve always loved.  

Still, you don’t have much of a choice, and you allow yourself to be trooped back into the locker room with the rest of your team to squeeze yourself into the uniforms. The fact that you’d already gotten a little sticky from being outside makes it almost impossible to get yourself dressed in top speed, and it didn’t help that Sooyoung came to tell you all to hurry up so that you could try the new routine in the new devil’s suit. You don’t necessarily miss the old uniform, but this one, despite being more elastic, also has thick stripes of glitter around the collar and hem as well as in regular intervals on the skirt pleats, so you have to stay far from each other when walking to avoid melting together into one, gross glitter bomb.  

It pays off when you get back out, though, because the change is welcomed by the people on the field — mostly the players themselves — and it shows in small things, like how Jaehyun gets a face full of ball because he’s too busy checking his girlfriend out to pay attention to Jeno, who lobs the ball towards him with all his might, or like how Mark just stands by the ice box full of half-melted bottles of water with a blank, almost dazed expression until the coach calls him out by name.  

Football practice ends half an hour before cheerleading practice does today, considering you’d wasted time wrestling with your uniforms, but Mark patiently waits on the bleachers after his shower while you finish up. You actually think that his presence helps cut Sooyoung’s twenty-minute after-practice talk down to ten minutes because she keeps looking at him, like she’s worried he’s going to tell her to shut up, even though all he’s doing is staring ahead politely. When she dismisses everyone, you walk over to him, and he hands you a water bottle. You don’t miss the once-over he gives you before he decides to fix his gaze on your face.  

“Is this the new uniform?” He asks, as if he doesn’t know.  

“Yeah. Is it nice?”

“For sure,” he agrees. “It’s good you guys busted that out today instead of during a game. It looks like we have to learn how to get used to it. Me, especially.”  

“And Jaehyun.”

“And Jaehyun,” he laughs. “He’s still guilting Jeno into apologizing, even though we all know he wasn’t paying attention.”  

“I’m going to take a shower, then we can go back together. Did you do what I asked?”  

“Yeah. Oh — if you haven’t yet,” his fingers toy idly with a pleat on your skirt. “You should consider doing it in this.”  

“The fact that you’re actually actively participating in this is seriously attractive.” You run your fingers through his hair; the water keeps it stuck in the messy way you push it into. “I like your hair like this.”  

He chuckles, rejecting your hand and combing his hair forward into the neatness he’s so used to. You laugh when he smacks your hand away lightly as you try to muss it up again. “Go shower. I’ll wait out here.”  

You take a quick shower, only slightly derailed by the fact that you have to dash out to grab your towel, which you’ve left on the bench near your locker. When you come out, Mark is waiting by the door instead of on the bleachers, playing games on his phone. On the way back to his room, he tells you about how he had to leave that area because he thought that he’d heard Jaehyun moaning from somewhere under the bleachers, a sound he was not emotionally prepared to hear, and the thought that he’d been eavesdropping on something highly private and easily escalatable had driven him from his seat.  

When you get back to the room, though, you’re surprised that Donghyuck isn’t back yet, considering his classes had ended hours earlier. Mark theorizes that you’d scared him away, but you note that the food in the refrigerator is exactly as you’d seen it this morning when you’d grabbed breakfast, which heightens the likelihood that Donghyuck hasn’t come home at all. He doesn’t, actually, for another hour, during which you and Mark watch Blue Earth on Netflix simply because he doesn’t want the 10,000 won he pays every month to go down the drain. You’re halfway through the deep sea creatures episode when the door lock clicks and Donghyuck comes in, just as Mark is headed to his bedroom to take a call from his mom, who you distinctly hear asking about how well he’s treating you.  

“Nice suit,” you comment, noticing that Donghyuck dressed up for his presentation; you know he only has, like, one actually nice suit that he saves for events that require him to look decent and formal, considering the fact that he usually goes to class in ripped jeans and worn cotton t-shirts. “How’d your presentation go?”

You don’t actually expect a proper response, and you don’t get one; he just glares at you as he toes off his shoes and drops his backpack on the floor by the door. It’s a half-minute staring contest, with your innocent, questioning expression and his more venomous one, which ends when he stops in front of you, towering over your head and effectively blocking the television.  

“Where’s Mark hyung?”

“Talking to his mom about what a great girlfriend I am,” you reply. “Why?”  

“I have a bone to pick with both of you.”

“So pick away,” you reply, leaning back on the couch. “We don’t have to wait for him. I’ll get him up to speed when he comes back.”

“Fine,” he fishes around for his phone, extracting it from his pocket before opening it, angrily tapping on the screen and scrolling. You can hear his nails hit the glass with the force of his taps. “Fine. Care to explain this?”  

He shows you his phone, and you squint to read what he’s presented. It’s your Facebook chat with him, and on the top is the first thing you’d sent him this morning: a good luck on your presentation! message, with some very caring heart eyes and star emojis. Granted, you’d also accidentally pressed the middle finger emoji, but you’d quickly retracted that.  

“It’s a message that represents my utmost support for all of your academic endeavors,” you raise your eyebrows at him. “That you’ve cruelly seen zoned, so thank you for that.”  

“Not that — these,” he scrolls the chat further downwards for you.  

There’s a set of pictures under your earlier message, dated after practice today, none of which expose your face. The first one is focused on your chest, and you’re carefully tightening your arms closer together to push your boobs together, a selfie that had been fairly difficult to take and that you’d actually taken great pride in when you’d done it. The one under it is from a similar angle, except you’ve taken advantage of the amazing elasticity of the top of your cheerleading uniform to pull down the collar, the cup of your bra going down with it. Your thumb and forefinger are lightly pinching your nipple, and you hadn’t noticed earlier when you’d taken the picture, but there’s a smattering of residual glitter from the uniform that makes your skin look kind of awesome and mystical.  

The latter two had required a fair amount of logistic forethought as well as patience, since you had to wait for everyone else to leave before you could do it. You’re fairly pleased that they’d turned out pretty nicely; the third picture is a view of your ass, the uniform’s skirt pushed up over your hips to expose your underwear. Cheerleaders are technically required to wear cycling shorts under the skirt because, well, school rules, but you’d discarded them before taking the picture. You also usually favor function over fashion during practice, but since you’d prepared yourself for this moment, you’d decided to put your own preferences aside and worn something lacier and, consequently, a little more see-through. The last photo is a personal favorite, with you still in the same position, except you’ve pushed your underwear aside, revealing your pussy. As an added bonus, you’re also using your index and middle finger to spread your lips, which you thought was kind of hot at the time, except, by the look on Donghyuck’s face, it might have been overkill.  

Under all of those photos, you’d written one short and sweet message: All for you, baby. No lame emojis this time, because it had seemed like a serious matter.  

You look back up at Donghyuck, who’s clearly close to bursting with words with how red his face is.  

“We got a new cheerleading uniform today,” you explain, although you know it’s not really the reasoning he wants. “I was kind of proud of how nice it looked.”  

“I can barely see the uniform — you know what? You’re totally missing the point.” He looks like he’s gnashing his teeth. “That’s not even all of it.”  

He turns the phone back to himself, and you calmly wait as his taps grow increasingly aggressive. A minute later, he turns the phone back to you, showing you a different chat; Mark’s name is on top this time, and there’s only one picture. It’s actually kind of funny considering it’s a little blurry, but you greatly appreciate it nonetheless, considering it’s a photo of his dick, half-erect, while he’s standing in what appears to be the shower stall in the locker room. The exact same message you’d sent Donghyuck — the horny one, not the one about his presentation — is also under his single photo.  

You make eye contact with Donghyuck again, still fairly stoic. “Is that all of it?”  

He looks torn between being annoyed and nonplussed. “Is that all of it? You guys both wrong-sent me your couple nudes!”

“Do you not often get them, or something?”  

“I was at dinner, noona,” he clutches his phone to his chest now, like he’s afraid you’re going to nab it and start taking more naked pictures. “I was out with Renjun when you sent me these!”  

“So? You let Renjun look at your phone?”  

“No, of course not, but I—” he splutters, clearly befuddled by how calm you are about everything. “I don’t want to be eating something then have to see your accidental nudes to each other!”

“They’re not,” you correct him.  

“Not what? Nudes? These are, by every definition of a nude, nudes!”  

“I meant that they’re not accidental.”

You’ve seen Donghyuck stumped before, but you’ve never seen him this lost for words; after a brief, perplexed pause, he’s started making all these weird, breathy, disbelieving sounds, like he’s just forgotten how to form sentences at all. His knuckles turn white as he grips his phone even tighter.  

While he’s coming to terms with your statement, Mark quietly comes back in, having ended the call with his mother; you notice he’s watching Donghyuck carefully, but he says nothing as he sits down next to you. Donghyuck looks at him, like he’s expecting a sensible answer, or like a statement that this is all a joke, but Mark just sits there in the same kind of silence as you. You don’t even bother keeping him up to speed; it’s clear by his expression that he’s already aware of what’s going on.  

Two long, heavy minutes pass, and it becomes clear that Donghyuck isn’t going to speak. He’s just looking at you now, this sort of distant, glassy gaze on his face, his mind clearly working overtime and frying out. You decide to break the silence, since you know Mark isn’t going to.  

“Donghyuck,” you call out to him, and he apparently comes crashing back down to earth. “Do you want to have a seat?”  

“What do you mean they’re not accidental?” He finally demands.  

“Not accidental. Intentional? Deliberate.” You elaborate with a tone that suggests this should be obvious. "We sent them to you on purpose.”  

“But Mark hyung sent me the — the — this!” He flips his phone around again, almost losing his hold on it, to show Mark the screen. The latter just looks at it with mild interest.

“And when does Mark message someone the wrong thing?”  

“But you said! You said,” he turns the phone back to himself, eyes scanning the screen feverishly before showing it to you again, index finger jabbing at your message. “You said all for you, baby!”

“I don’t really call Mark ‘baby.’” You shrug. “I know you know that much now.”  

Donghyuck’s eyebrows have practically disappeared into his bangs, and his mouth is opening and closing soundlessly. Mark takes the phone from his hand, exiting his chat and going to yours, scrolling up a little to look at your pictures.  

“Nice,” he says appreciatively as he hands the phone back to Donghyuck, who takes it robotically.  

“Thank you.” You squeeze his thigh. Donghyuck just watches this exchange, disbelief still written on his face. “Donghyuck — I really do think you should sit down, or something. You look like you’re going to faint.”  

You watch him slowly go over to the tiny dining table in the kitchen, grabbing one of the monobloc chairs and dragging it back to his former position. He sinks down onto the seat, now looking at you with a renewed desire to speak.  

“You need to explain.”  

“Actually, I think you need to answer my question first.” You lean forward, and you see Donghyuck swallow. Hard. You also don’t miss the fact that his eyes flit nervously to your breasts, which have been pushed together slightly again as you rest your elbows on your knees. “Donghyuck, when you said you didn’t like being left out like a third wheel, what did you mean?”  

He fixes a bemused look on you, rubbing the back of his neck. “What do you mean ‘what did I mean’? Have you ever heard someone say damn, I wish I could be the loser third wheel to my best friends for the rest of my life?”  

“We’ve tried to do things with you, haven’t we? As far as we know, we’ve done most of the stuff we used to do with you before even until now, after Mark and I got together. We don’t do gross, couple-y stuff when you’re around. But we can tell that there’s still something bothering you. Isn’t there?”  

“Well,” his eyes flit to Mark, who’s just carefully and politely watching the events unfold. “Well, yeah. I just… wanted to sort of be included in stuff. More stuff.”

“Like?”  

He lets out a soft huff, but he doesn’t bother to say anything. Instead, you watch as his face grows redder, and he’s now refusing to make eye contact with either of you. Unfortunately, the only other thing in his immediate line of sight is your chest, which he has a spectacular view of from his seat, so he averts his eyes to the side, staring at the empty space beside you on the couch.  

“I’m going to just go out on a limb here,” you shrug when it’s clear he’s lapsed into another stony, embarrassed silence again. “And you can just tell me if I’m right, and if I’m wrong, Mark and I will sincerely apologize for everything we’ve put you through today. You just have to be honest. Okay?”  

You see him give the tiniest of nods towards the empty space on the couch.  

“Donghyuck, were you upset because you wanted in on the sex?”  

You’ve never seen Donghyuck this red; the reddest you’d seen him was during that Avengers argument, and even that look on him didn’t hold a candle to the state of his face now. He’s twisting his phone in his hands, agitated, and he keeps inexplicably glancing at you. After a while, he takes a shaky breath, once again keeping his gaze firmly away.

“I know it’s super fucked up.”  

“Not the most fucked up thing in the world, I’m pretty sure.”  

“Still sure it’s halfway up that list,” he sighs. “Look — at first, you know, it was… okay? I mean, technically, it still is, like, I’m not really mad that you guys are together, or whatever. But then, I don’t know — I got jealous, I guess? And it was kind of mixed in with how much I like you guys, and it was also this weird realization that, you know, maybe, maybe, I was kind of… attracted. To the both of you. I mean,” he flails his hands in an attempt to get the words to come out faster. “I mean, you’re both super hot.”  

“Thank you,” your joking voice harmonizes with Mark’s weirdly more serious and immediate response.  

“It was an extremely confusing period of time for me. So, I mean, obviously I got frustrated. Like, mentally, but also sexually. I shouldn’t have, but I guess I took it out on you guys.” His shoulders slump forward. “Sorry.”  

“First of all, thank you for your honesty,” you lean back onto the couch, and you hear him breathe out a small sigh of relief as he sees a window of opportunity to look at you again. “Second — I hope you don’t think you’re not super hot yourself.”  

“I mean,” he twiddles his thumbs; the shock and disbelief have left him, it seems, replaced by growing sheepishness. “I’m okay, I guess.”  

“That’s crappy modesty.” For the first time since he’d stormed in, he lets out a soft laugh. “Look — we’re sorry too.”

“You guys don’t have to be.” He looks up, a little alarmed. “I mean… you’re a couple. No one really wants their friend to just dive in when they’re supposed to be a third wheel.”  

“That’s the thing, though,” you shrug. “We don’t want you to be just a constant, unhappy third wheel.”  

You stare at Donghyuck’s phone, and he notices, peeling it away from his chest and looking back down at your messages with his brow furrowed. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mark raise a hand to his mouth, probably to cover up the fact that he’s close to bursting out into laughter at Donghyuck’s constantly morphing comical expressions. He poorly disguises one chuckle as a cough.

Donghyuck seems to be stuck on buffering mode again, just opening and minimizing each picture in the chat ceaselessly. You place a hand on his knee, giving it a small squeeze to get him to look at you again.  

“What we’re asking  — you don’t have to do it, or whatever. But if you want to — if you really want to — just say so.”  

It’s a staring contest again, except there’s much less heat involved; Donghyuck seems to be mapping every plane of your face, trying to figure out if there’s any sign of insincerity. After a long moment, you see the corners of his mouth twitch, and his voice comes out soft.  

“You know I want to.”  

“Good,” you squeeze his thigh again. His eyes follow you as you stand, and he stays silent as you settle back down onto his lap, only sparing a glance at Mark like he wants some sort of confirmation. His gaze falls back on you as you comb his hair back with your fingers, a small smile playing on your lips. Donghyuck looks like he has a lot of questions, but he swallows them down as your fingers fall to his shoulders then to his chest, pushing aside the folds of his blazer. “If at any point, you feel like stopping — if it gets weird, or anything like that, just say so.”  

“I’m not going to.”

“I was hoping you’d say as much,” you laugh softly, helping him out of the blazer. Donghyuck isn’t by far the most muscular person you’ve met, but he’s naturally more substantial than most, and the fact that his inner shirt is kind of tight on him just highlights that. You can feel him shivering slightly under your fingers, which gives you the brief impression that he’s nervous, but it doesn’t show all that much when you start unbuttoning his shirt and he moves to help you, from the bottom up.  

His eyes keep shifting between you and Mark, like he can’t decide who to focus on more, but you catch his attention for a little while longer as you undo the knot on his tie, tugging it loose from his neck. The front folds of his shirt have fallen away from each other, hanging loose at his sides, and you can see now how quickly he’s breathing, his chest rising and falling erratically.

“You okay?” You whisper, hanging the tie over the back of your neck. You’re so close to him you actually hear him swallow slowly.

“Yeah, it’s just…” He licks his lips. Once. Twice. “This slow, sexy pace is coming at a bad time for me.”  

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’ve been pretty hard since I left the restaurant. You guys couldn’t have picked a worse time to send those pictures.”  

“We were assuming you’d just be home,” Mark’s voice is a welcome addition to the dialogue — low and a little gruff, a telltale sign of his arousal. “You usually are.”  

“Yeah, well I…” Donghyuck’s voice trails off as he fixates on your fingers, which are moving around your neck. You observe his jaw going slack, little by little, as he takes in the fact that you’re using his tie as a makeshift choker, the ends forming a lopsided ribbon at the base of your throat. “I…”  

“Go on. We’re listening.”  

“I… am so…” He inhales deeply, closing his eyes for a second like he’s rebooting himself. “I am… unbelievably turned on.”

“You like this?” You finger the ends of the tie, your smile growing as he nods. “That’s a little kinky of you.”  

“I’m kinky?” His laugh is part breathless, part incredulous. “I’m not even half the kinky you are, noona.”  

You lean in closer, watching Donghyuck’s eyes instinctively flutter close; your lips land on the bridge of his nose first, then the tip, before falling onto his mouth, where he tilts his head up just enough to meet the kiss firmly. It’s brief but sweet, and when you pull back, his head follows on impulse, trying to chase yours. When you lean in again, your lips land on his jaw, trailing up the sharp angle all the way up to his earlobe. Your breath on his skin is either tickling him or revving him up, because he grips your waist tightly, blunt nails digging shallowly into your skin.  

“I’ll accept that compliment,” you murmur, blowing more hot air into the shell of his ear. “But no one in this room isn’t at least a little bit kinky.”  

“Even Mark hyung?”  

“Even Mark,” you agree, trapping his earlobe between your teeth and tugging on it lightly. A soft gasp escapes him, but instead of pulling away, he only holds you tighter, pulling your hips closer to his. “But we don’t call him that right now, do we?”  

Donghyuck’s shoulders freeze; it’s clear he’s holding his breath. For a moment, you’re worried you’ve scared him off, and you stay still too, until you feel him exhale shakily. He gives a minute shake of the head.  

“That’s right. What do we call him?”

Not for the first time today, you wonder if what you’re doing is a little overboard for Donghyuck, especially since he’s being initiated into this weird situation where you’re essentially playing out some of your personal whims. You experience a slight wave of worry in the span of time it takes for you to ask that question and for Donghyuck to respond, but the wait pays off when he clears his throat a little and answers, voice barely above a whisper.  

“Daddy.”  

“What about you, Donghyuck?” You continue to whisper, only pausing to let you tongue slip out, the tip tracing the shell of his ear. “What do you think we should call you?”  

His breathing hitches again, and you have to hold onto his shoulders while he shifts in his seat so you don’t topple off his lap. When he speaks, though, his voice is surprisingly clearer. You don’t know if he thinks there’s a right answer, but he says it nonetheless.

“Baby.”  

“That’s good,” you squeeze his shoulders in assurance, and he returns the favor on your waist. “You’re already doing so well, baby. Are you looking at daddy?”  

His earlobe bumps against your tongue as he nods again, and you trap it between your teeth again, tugging on it until he makes a soft whining sound.  

“Can you tell me what he’s doing?”  

“He’s…” Donghyuck clears his throat, losing a little bit of the nerve he’d had just a moment ago. That, or he’s distracted, and you can’t blame him given his answer. “He’s — he’s jerking himself off.”  

“Is that so?” You pull away, unable to resist confirming for yourself. You’re not disappointed; Mark is still in his exact same spot on the couch, but he’s pushed down the front of his sweatpants, palming at his cock through his boxers. His eyes lift to meet yours when you turn, and a small smile lifts the corners of his lips. “Having fun on your own?”  

“Just enjoying the view,” he chuckles softly. The bulge pushing against the fabric just keeps growing. “You can pretend I’m not here.”  

“No way.” Your hands make their way back to Donghyuck’s chest, tracing spirals down his skin. He sucks in his stomach a little when your touch travels down to his abdomen, and he blows out the air against your cheek a moment later. “Audience participation is mandatory.”  

“At least let me appreciate it for a little while longer.”  

“Fair enough,” you turn back to Donghyuck, who snaps his head back up to your face like he’s been caught not paying attention. He really hasn’t though, having taken more of an interest in wondering how far down your hand is going to go and looking a little crestfallen that your index finger is just hovering above his navel. “What do you say, Donghyuck? Should we give daddy a little show?”  

“What kind of show?”

“I was thinking something along the lines of my mouth around your cock, but I’m totally open to suggestions.”  

Donghyuck doesn’t waste time deciding, nodding instantly before you even finish your sentence. “No suggestions. That’s the best suggestion. Please.”  

Mark laughs softly along with you, but Donghyuck can’t afford to be amused when he looks so desperate to have something of any value happen. You oblige, fingers finally completing their journey as they find their way to his slacks, undoing the fastenings and carefully tugging down the zipper.

Donghyuck initiates the next kiss, his hands suddenly coming up to trap your face in between his palms and turning your head up so quickly you don’t even register what he wants before he’s already pressed his mouth against yours. There’s a greater level of want, if not need, in the way he mouths at your lips, like he’s finally realized this is really going somewhere and he doesn’t want to waste time anymore. His mouth is hungry, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and sucking on it so roughly it starts to go a little numb.  

You almost forget you’re in the middle of something, but his hips give a little jerk as if to remind you, and you blindly get back to work, pushing down the front of his boxers and wrapping your fingers around his cock. He’s already hard, the tip slick with pre-cum, his cock twitching at your touch. Even if he’d been enthusiastic about your idea, he doesn’t free you from the kiss immediately; he deepens it, tongue finding its way into your mouth, curling up against the roof of your mouth and rubbing against your own. You give his cock a couple of slow pumps as a reminder, but he just moans into your mouth, fingers tangling into your hair.  

It’s you that has to break contact first, coming back up for breath. Donghyuck just stares at you, dazed, his mouth still parted slightly. Before you say anything, he’s leaned in again, trapping your lips in another brief but wet kiss. And another. And another. And another. When you press your free hand against his chest to signal him to slow down, there’s a thin line of saliva traveling between your mouth and the corner of his lips. You laugh softly, wiping it away with your thumb. “You’re very eager.”  

He holds your face again, giving you another firm kiss; his aim misses slightly this time, landing more on your upper lip. There’s a bit of wetness sticking to the bottom of your nose after. “Is that bad?”  

“Of course not. It’s good.” You take his hands away from your face, bringing them up to your lips instead. You press a kiss to each of his knuckles affectionately. “You’re so good for me, baby.”  

You land a final kiss against the tip of his nose before shifting backwards. His fingers are still clinging onto yours, and you’re holding hands even when you get onto your knees, easing yourself between his legs. You glance back at Mark; he hasn’t really moved, save for the fact that his cock is now fully exposed too, and he’s pumping it in that slow, almost torturous pace he loves starting with. You don’t see Mark touch himself often, especially since you usually form a party of two with him to get off anyway, but this is a rare sight you actually wouldn’t mind enjoying more often. His brow is slightly furrowed, dark eyes trained on the both of you, a thin sheen of sweat glowing across his forehead. When his eyes meet yours, you wink, way too salaciously for him to take seriously, and the laugh that leaves him is breathy.

Donghyuck gives your fingers a small squeeze when you turn back to him. From this angle, you’re more aware of how flushed his neck and how dangerously quick his Adam’s apple is bobbing, probably because he can’t stop swallowing in anticipation. When you inch your head closer to his cock, he grips your hands even tighter, until the tips of your digits actually turn white.  

“Relax, baby,” you whisper, trying to curl your fingers — in vain, unfortunately, because he refuses to let go.

“I can’t,” he replies a little hoarsely. “I’m going to cum fast. I don’t want you guys to think I’m a quick shot.”  

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure him, twisting your dominant hand out of his iron grasp. Desperate to still have something to hang onto, his hand moves immediately to your head, gripping your hair in a haphazard half-ponytail. “I think it’s cute that you’re this excited.”

“Don’t tease me, noona.”

“I’m not teasing you,” you say calmly, but your index finger is enjoying its independence way too much, dragging down the side of his shaft lightly and drawing spirals against his skin as it travels back upwards. He lets out a short, sharp hiss. “I’m just telling it as it is. And if you want to cum, all you need to do is tell me where.”  

“What?”  

“Tell me where. Mark prefers the mouth, mostly.” He gapes down at you, shaking his head slowly like he’s not fully comprehending how workaday your tone is in comparison to what you’re saying. “Although you can obviously choose on your own.”

“Wh—” His question dies in his throat as his eyes fixate on your mouth, which is now wrapped around the head of his cock. You feel it twitch against your lips, and Donghyuck’s low, drawn-out moans are the rhythmic soundtrack to your endeavor. His grip on your hair tightens, and he starts a mantra of curses once your tongue begins rolling around the tip. “Oh my g— noona, you need to slow down, holy shit—”

Your giggle is muffled against his skin, but the vibrations just seem to spur him on; he clenches your hand like you’re dangling him off a cliff. His head is tilted back, and his chest is heaving dangerously. The hand in your hair jerks your head accidentally, but you power through it, moving your lips downward. His swearing only intensifies as you start to suck on his length, your mouth running up and down half of it.  

Donghyuck can’t seem to come to a decision on how to proceed; on one hand, he frequently wheezes out a “no” in between sentences he never finishes, but on the other, he’s starting to place pressure on your head in an attempt to lead it further down. You end up deciding for him when he hisses out an almost angry “fuck, that feels so good,” pressing your tongue up against the underside of his shaft. His cock throbs noticeably in your mouth again; the timing perfectly aligns when you look up at him just to see his eyes roll back one quick moment before he squeezes them shut. His mouth is slightly agape, and he can’t even bring his lips together to swear properly at this point.  

Another dangerous twitch of his cock signals that he’s close, and he confirms this when his head suddenly snaps down, eyes flying open.  

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” He shakes his head again, now looking panicked. “I want — can I cum on your tits?”  

You think that’s kind of a complicated decision considering you’re the only one in the room still fully clothed, but you don’t want to deny him, especially not when he looks so desperate. You pull your mouth away quickly, a wet pop sounding between you, and he finally releases your now-numb hand, using it to stroke his cock in your absence. Leaning back, you wrestle your shirt off; you’re about to work on the clasp of your bra too, but a gentle hand gets there before you. Mark has shifted closer for a better view, now unhooking your bra with the hand that isn’t stroking himself.

“Show off.” You grin back at him. He laughs softly, but the sound is drowned out by a slightly louder moan from Donghyuck. His head is in its previous position, tilted back, his bangs matted to his forehead. He’s sucked in his stomach, like he’s holding his breath just to stop himself from cumming. You tap his moving hand to tell him to stop, but he moans out a throaty albeit much more insistent no. Slightly amazed, you watch him shift forward in his seat, half of his ass hanging off the edge, leading his cock closer to you.  

It takes you a split second before you cotton on, and in that short interlude, his groans get exponentially louder, so you try not to waste any more time, leaning forward again so that his shaft can rest against your cleavage. It’s clear that your guess on what he wants is correct, because the fist around his cock loosens; instead, he presses his thumb down on his cock, making sure it stays flush against your skin as he starts to roll his hips upward haphazardly.  

You’re so new to the sight of this that you don’t even move; you just watch him rut against you, wondering why you hadn’t at least set up a camera so you could have a souvenir when this was all over. Surprisingly, it’s Mark that takes the initiative again; sacrificing personal pleasure, both his palms slip under your arms, pressing against the sides of your breasts and pushing them closer to the center. The friction Donghyuck is creating intensifies when they press up against his cock, and his reaction is immediate; his hips jerk up sharply, cock barely missing your chin.  

Donghyuck’s movements are more erratic now, and the flush on his neck has spread upwards to his cheeks. He’s so close, and the only thing you can do at this point is to egg him on.

“That’s so good, baby.” Your whisper is barely audible, but you know he can hear it, even with everything else he’s saying about how much he’s already losing his mind. “You’re doing so well. I bet you look so good when you cum, don’t you? Show mommy how much you want to cum all over me.”  

His hips give one last sharp lurch before a drawn out groan rips from his chest; you feel a splash of heat against your neck first. Donghyuck has all but slid off his seat, but he manages to right himself, pulling away from you slightly so he can fist at his cock again to coax his climax to completion. You let out a soft, appreciative noise as you feel his cum hit your skin in quick bursts.  

You smile up at him when he slouches back into the chair, breathing labored. Something like a disbelieving laugh escapes him when your gazes lock, and your grin just widens in response.  

“Mommy?”  

“Sorry. Heat of the moment, and all that,” you shrug. “Too weird?”  

“Kind of hot, actually,” he admits. “I’m not mad about it.”  

“I agree,” Mark’s voice sounds fresh in the situation considering how absent it had been for the better part of the blowjob. His hands are still against your breasts, now cupping them lightly instead of pushing them together. You lean back slightly, your head bumping into his shoulder.  

“It was nice to have an active audience too, actually,” you sigh softly, feeling Mark’s torso shake weakly as he laughs again. “Very helpful at the right time.”  

“I just took advantage of a sudden opportunity.” His fingers squeeze at your breasts gently. Donghyuck has caught his breath now, mostly, and he sits up a little straighter. His expression has gone back to looking a bit careful, which you’re disappointed about until he speaks up again.

“So… is that… really it?”  

“Why?” You bite back a laugh. “Did you want more, or something?”  

“Kind of.”  

“That’s good, considering I wasn’t really planning on stopping just yet.” Your hands move up your sides, overlapping with Mark’s. “Looks like you need a break, though.”  

“I really don’t,” Donghyuck answers quickly, almost talking over you.  

“How quick is your recovery time?”

“I don’t usually have a stopwatch on me when I jack off twice in a row,” he frowns. “I usually don’t jack off twice in a row. Isn’t it bad for your heart, or something?”  

“I don’t know. Naver it, if you’re curious,” you suggest.  

“No, thanks. Kind of a mood killer.”  

“True.” you shrug. “I guess we’ll just have to speed it up a little.”

Your fingers close around Mark’s hand, peeling it away from your breast slowly. He makes a small, disappointed sound but doesn’t resist, even when you let his hand go for a moment before taking his forefinger back into your grasp. Leading it back to your skin, you slide his finger over your nipple, Donghyuck’s release slowly gathering on his digit as you move it upwards. You hear Donghyuck inhale sharply as you bring Mark’s finger up to your mouth, your tongue coming out to meet it so you can lick off the residual cum.  

“Is she usually this horny, or, like… what?” Donghyuck sounds both scandalized and amazed.  

“This is definitely in the top ten list of horniest things she’s done,” Mark replies. You don’t miss the fact that his words are laced with a soft, affectionate tone. “Right up there with a morning blowjob and offering to eat my ass.”  

“You didn’t take the offer?”  

“We had a test the next day. Also, she was half-asleep when she offered.”  

“I would have done it if you had woken me up after ten minutes like you were supposed to.” You drop your hold on Mark’s hand.  

“I could tell you were tired. You needed rest, not another reason to rile me up into having sex four hours before a morning exam.”

You shrug as Donghyuck laughs incredulously. Mark, catching up to your intentions, starts using his thumb to wipe the rest of Donghyuck’s cum off your skin before lifting it back up to your mouth. “The offer still stands,” you say right before your lips wrap around his finger, suckling on it languidly. You’re excessively noisy about it, since that seems to interest Donghyuck.  

“I’ll take it up on another day,” Mark promises.  

“And the daddy thing,” Donghyuck presses on, even though his eyes are fixed on where your mouth meets Mark’s skin. “Whose idea was that?”  

“Who else’s?”  

“Noona,” Donghyuck shakes his head. “You’re a hazard to men, do you know that?”

You pull your mouth away, pouting. “That’s not the whole story. You’re telling it wrong.”  

“But you did start it,” Mark replies simply, going back to the task of slowly wiping your chest clean.  

“I said it as a joke, but it turned you on so much I just kept using it,” you elaborate.

“Fine. So that’s what happened,” he concedes. “But you still started it.”  

“But you love it,” you fire back. He chuckles, his finger coming back up to trace the shape of your mouth. The movement of it laces the last of Donghyuck’s cum onto your lips.  

“Of course.”  

Donghyuck’s cock visibly twitches as he watches you trace your tongue over your lips, slowly licking the cum off of them. He just gapes for a moment, even when you’re finished and smiling up at him again, then gently pats the side of his face like he’s trying to get himself to wake up.

“I’m going to have a heart attack.”  

“Story of my life,” Mark responds. You feel his heat leave your back for a moment as he moves to sit back onto the couch, but he reaches out for you again quickly, arms snaking around your waist so he can tug you onto his lap. You lean most of your weight back onto his chest, and his hands move down to unbutton your shorts, thumbs digging into the waistband in an attempt to push them down. “Help me out here, Donghyuck.”  

The latter leans forward as instructed, tugging down your shorts by the hem and dragging your underwear along with them. You have to lift yourself to help them slide it off, and when you sit back down, you press back against Mark’s hips, feeling the shape of his cock push up flush against your bare ass. His knees slip between your legs, pushing them apart to give Donghyuck a fair view of your pussy. He takes in a deep breath, as though mentally preparing himself.  

“We usually do this in front of a mirror,” Mark explains. “But I think it might turn her on more to know you’re watching.”  

“Oh, I’m definitely watching,” Donghyuck promises. “I don’t even know if I have it in me to fucking blink.”  

Mark laughs, but you don’t join him; what comes out of you is a slightly needy sound as you feel his fingers press up against your core. He slips one between your folds, tracing lines repeatedly along your slit, and your moans just grow louder with every time he brushes up against your clit. The sounds you’re making reach its first apex when two digits press down a little harder against the nub, rubbing with a fair amount of intensity.  

In most other instances, Mark isn’t one for a lot of talk; he’ll play along when he has to, but he isn’t instinctively prone to mouthing off during sex unless you prompt some kind of dialogue. You’re not sure if it’s also because Donghyuck is watching, or because this is just one of the rare times he’s feeling up to it, but even in the haze of your growing pleasure, you feel mildly surprised when he suddenly speaks up.

“What’s going on, __________?” His voice is low, muffled against your shoulder as he speaks in between the kisses he’s pressing against your skin. “Tell me. What’s happening to you right now?”  

“Oh my god,” you whimper, feeling him add more pressure against your core. “You’re… you’re rubbing my clit. Your fingers feel so good, fuck.”

He hums softly in approval. “What else?”  

Your answer comes slightly delayed as you moan, a longer, slightly more tortured sound as his fingers leave your clit, moving down to toy at your entrance. “I’m getting so wet, holy shit.”

“Wet for who?”  

“Fuck,” your voice comes out as an embarrassing, high-pitched whine. “For you, daddy. I’m getting so wet for you.”  

“Who else?”  

“For Donghyuck.”  

You feel Mark’s lips brush against the curve of your neck as he speaks again. “Should we show him?”  

You nod, unsure if you can still speak without everything just coming out as a mess, and Mark moves his hand back to your folds, his forefinger and middle finger spreading them. Your legs instinctively follow suit, shifting further apart, and Donghyuck’s mouth goes slack to the point that you can actually see a little bit of drool pooling near the corner of his mouth. He doesn’t even seem to be noticing the fact that he’s growing harder again as the seconds pass, too fixated on Mark’s hand, which has found its way back to your entrance. One digit dips into your core, and you tense around it. He starts to pump it into you, but the movement is too shallow, and your mind is honestly thinking about something else entirely. He knows this, you’re fairly sure, but Mark isn’t usually one to tease, so when he does, you let him get away with it.  

Still, you instinctively let out a frustrated noise, and he catches it. His finger slows in you, and your nails bite into his forearms as a tiny form of revenge. He doesn’t even sound perturbed when he speaks again.  

“What’s wrong?”

“I want…” You huff, hips moving in a bid for some kind of friction. “I want more.”  

“More?”  

“Cock,” You demand. “I want your cock, daddy.”  

His other arm frees your waist, moving to press his palm against your back. You take it as a signal to lift yourself, and your thighs get an unexpected workout as you wait for him to align himself under you. The same hand leads you back down, and you let out what might be the lewdest moan you’ve made for the day so far, feeling the familiar girth of his cock stretch you in that subtle, delicious way you’ve come to love.  

Mark doesn’t even wait for you to settle back down on his lap; you’re only halfway down before he lifts his hips to meet yours, burying himself into you completely. It knocks a little bit of wind out of you, but you won’t deny the fact that his eagerness is a peak turn on at this point. You’re glad that he’s firmly holding your waist, because you don’t know how much strain your legs can take anymore — partly because of practice, but mostly because Mark is funneling all of his energy into thrusting deep into you, which just renders you incapable of focusing on any other task requiring more than minimum effort.  

There’s slight movement in front of you; Donghyuck’s hand has found its way back to his cock, and he’s stroking himself to hardness again, his expression half-pained, half-amazed. His eyes keep moving back and forth, once again unsure on what to focus on. For a while, his gaze is fixed on your breasts, which are bouncing slightly with the force of Mark’s thrusts, but for some reason, he ultimately decides to focus on your face. His fingers tighten around his shaft for a moment.  

“Are you hard again, baby?” You ask the obvious, but he doesn’t seem to mind, considering the fact that he nods immediately. “Does it turn you on —watching daddy fuck me like this?”  

“Jesus.” He runs a hand through his hair, locks sticking out at odd angles. “Jesus Christ.”  

“His cock feels so good in me. He’s filling me up so well, baby. Can you see it?”  

He nods again. “This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”  

Your head tilts back a little when Mark bucks his hips up a little more sharply than before, mouth falling slack to allow a groan to escape; you feel yourself tighten around him, legs twitching in response. You think you hear Donghyuck call out to a deity again. When your head lifts back up, you lock eyes with Donghyuck again, and he speaks before you can think of anything filthier to say.  

“Can I fuck your mouth, noona?”

He’s already half-standing before you say yes, and Mark has to slow down for a moment as Donghyuck clambers up to line himself up to your mouth again. He doesn’t even need any prompting anymore, one hand immediately moving to tangle into your hair and keep your head still. He uses the other to guide his cock past your lips, and you notice that he feeds you more length than you had taken in earlier.  

Seeing Mark resume his movements is what gives Donghyuck the cue to start, too; he uses his hold in your hair as some kind of leverage, hips rolling forward in slow, controlled thrusts. There’s very little you can do apart from suck with whatever strength you have left and moan intermittently when Mark shifts down a little so he can pump into you at a different, slightly deeper angle. One hand has also found its way back against your pussy, picking up where it left off and toying with your clit. You feel your legs shake slightly with the overstimulation, and it takes a lot of concentration for you to keep yourself from going limp.  

In an attempt to stay preoccupied, you look up at Donghyuck. The sight of him feels almost criminal, with his tongue curled up against his upper lip and his brow furrowed with concentration. His thrusts are growing a little more confident, and with this newfound boldness, he pushes more of his cock past your lips. It doesn’t seem to be an accident, either; his hand leads your head forward a little every time, and if you had to guess, you had probably just about a quarter of his length left before you took it all in.

Suddenly, he pulls his hips away, and you gasp out a soft fuck when he frees your mouth, once again unable to focus on much else apart from Mark’s thrusting, which has also increased in pace and intensity. You’re practically praying in swear words, and Donghyuck has to call your name twice before you look back up at him.  

“Noona, do you think you can—” He swallows hard, fingers falling away from your hair. “Can you relax for me?”  

“I’m getting the dicking down of my life over here,” you rasp between moans. “I don’t think I can.”  

“I meant here,” his hand falls down to your jaw before tracing a line down your throat. His forefinger hooks into the ersatz choker you’ve fashioned out of his tie. “I want to see if you can take all of me.”

You nod, not even bothering to tease him about how uncertain he’s acting even when he’s asking for a goddamn deepthroating, and he tugs on the tie, once again bringing your slackened mouth closer to his tip. You feel Mark’s fingers tighten around your hip, and his hips start lifting up harder; the slap of skin on skin is obscenely audible, almost like applause as Donghyuck slides himself past your teeth again.

He doesn’t bother with thrusting anymore; it’s one smooth motion until your mouth is back where it had been a moment ago. You remember he’d asked you to relax, so you try not to give into your instinct to moan over and over, letting your jaw go slack. You know he feels the tension go down because he starts pushing forward again. Your tongue is pressed up flush against his cock, but you can’t move it at all. The rest of Donghyuck’s fingers join the one wrapped around the tie, gripping it a little tighter as he tugs you forward to meet his hips, and you have the good sense to breathe in right before he slips the remaining length into your mouth.  

The tip of his cock presses up against the back of your throat, and you feel the expected tears pool in your eyes and streak down your cheeks; you try to focus on Donghyuck’s expression, which is completely blissed out, but it’s a little hazy. When you start feeling lightheaded, you reach out to blindly swat at his thigh. He gets the signal, pulling away right before you can gag, but he doesn’t leave your mouth. Instead, he resumes thrusting, deciding to follow Mark’s quicker, rougher pace.

You’re pretty sure you would be moaning like crazy now, but you can’t even make noise properly. Without any warning, Donghyuck tugs at the tie again, and your throat instinctively loosens when you feel him pushing in deeper again. He stays there, buried in your mouth for what seems like forever, almost growling when he feels you trying to swallow around him.  

On his second withdrawal, he pulls out all the way; a long, escalating groan leaves you, and you feel your legs buckle suddenly as your climax hits unexpectedly. Mark’s arms wind around your waist, trying to keep you steady, but his hips move relentlessly, hellbent on keeping you going until your high ends. You collapse against his chest when it does, breathing heavily, your eyes closing halfway. Donghyuck inches closer, though, still lining his cock up against your mouth, and your tongue comes out to greet it, running messily along its side.  

“How was it?” Mark asks softly from under you, one hand gently rubbing your stomach.  

“Fucking amazing,” Donghyuck replies, watching you mouth at the tip before you suck on it languidly. “You’ve never tried?”  

“Not yet.”  

“It’s out of this world, hyung.” Your heart swells at the praise, and your mouth becomes a little more enthusiastic. Donghyuck lets out a shaky exhale. “Pro level.”  

Mark chuckles, the sound rumbling against your back. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“If you add that to the fact that she basically swears like a pirate, she could really make a career out of it.”  

“That is something that’s never going to happen,” Mark squeezes your waist. “Like, over my dead body.”  

“I’m just saying it as a hypothetical thing. You know. To drive the compliment home.” You try to interrupt them, but Donghyuck’s shaft is still pressed up against your lips, muffling the sound. He angles his hips away so you can speak. “Sorry. What was that, noona?”  

“More,” you breathe out. Donghyuck’s eyebrows fly up as you repeat yourself. “More. Please.”  

“Are you sure? You can take a break. Trust me, with what just happened, we’ll still be hard.”  

You shake your head, carefully pushing yourself up off Mark’s lap; you’re still fairly wobbly, so he has to keep his hand on your back just to make sure you don’t reel backwards. He looks up at you, wide-eyed, wondering what you’re planning. You motion for him to scoot back near the armrest, and he does so, adjusting himself horizontally once he understands what you want. He reaches out a hand to help you back onto the couch, where you straddle his lap for a moment before you raise yourself, reaching between the two of you to hold onto the base of his shaft. His teeth come out to dig into his lip as you once again take in his cock, biting back a moan.  

When you turn back, Donghyuck is still in the same position, watching you; he’s clearly wondering where he fits into this equation. You beckon for him to come closer, and he complies wordlessly. You need to twist your arm a little to reach out for his, leading his fingers to your mouth. Your tongue presses up against his digits, rolling around them slowly for a long, fairly intense minute before you let his wrist go.  

He cottons on belatedly, after you’ve leaned back down to press your chest against Mark’s, pushing out your ass. Your fingers grip your cheeks, spreading them slightly, and Donghyuck lets out a strangled noise.  

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” you murmur, pressing the side of your face against Mark’s shoulder.  

“Are you — I’ve — hold on,” Donghyuck falls silent trying to form the best possible sentence, which is, apparently, “How are you this calm about this?”

“What do you want me to do?” You laugh breathily. “Cry about it?”  

“Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” you admit. “So you better stretch me out, or we might have a problem.”  

“Yeah, okay, no pressure.” You feel the couch dip a little as he inches forward, and in the next second, his hand finds its way to your ass, helping you push your cheeks apart. “Why hasn’t Mark hyung done this?”  

“He’s too scared.”

“That you’ll get hurt?”  

“That he’ll cum right away.”  

Donghyuck barks out a laugh, and even Mark snorts a little. “What about me? I’m afraid of that too.”

“Yeah, but we already know you’re kind of a quick shot.”  

Something cool presses up against your ass, and in the next moment, Donghyuck is sinking the first knuckle of his forefinger into you. You let out a slightly surprised moan that he talks over. “Am not.”  

“We’ll see,” your words come out short as you hold your breath in anticipation. Nothing happens, though; his finger stays completely still. “Fuck. You’re really taking your sweet time.”

“You’d kill me if I just stuffed one finger in right away,” he complains. You clench around him unexpectedly, and he pulls his finger away. “Okay, can you not do that first? My finger is just going to get sucked in or something.”

“That was the idea. Hurry up.”  

“Are you always this impatient?” More shifting happens behind you, and a moment later, you feel something softer and wetter press up against your entrance. You jerk forward in surprise, but Donghyuck’s hands are keeping your hips steady, allowing him to lap at the puckered flesh. You let out a breathy, incredulous laugh.  

“He’s eating my ass,” you inform Mark, who grins up at you. “This is the kind of kinky shit I could have done for you instead of reading Homer.”  

“You passed the exam, which is more important than my personal pleasure.”

“Agree to disagree.”

Mark doesn’t reply, allowing you the space to moan as Donghyuck’s tongue lubes you up. When he pulls away, you try to crane your head back in an attempt to catch a glimpse of his lips, which are shiny with saliva. His hand moves towards you again, and he eases his finger in slowly until it’s in entirely. You start to moan a little more loudly once he starts pumping his finger, and Mark slowly starts rolling his hips up again to add to the stimulation. You have to tuck your face into the crook of his neck to soften your groan as Donghyuck slowly pushes another finger in, spreading them out carefully before he resumes pumping.  

You think you could pretty much get off like this, and you actually feel pleasure building in your stomach, but it’s a low-burning fire with how slowly they’re taking it. A couple of times, you try to push back against them, but Donghyuck in particular seems to be enjoying taking his sweet time. The third finger enters when the buzz of ecstasy has settled in your nerves, adding a bit of spark to the low thrum coursing through your body. Even Mark doesn’t see the necessity in speeding up yet. You’re breathing deep against his neck, inhaling his scent constantly and getting heady from it, and you don’t even register the fact that your mouth has been half-open for the last ten minutes, just letting low, weak moans pass through. At one point, you actually cum quietly again, even with that horribly slow pace, and no one says anything; Mark just turns his head, pressing a firm kiss against your forehead.  

“Please,” your voice is barely audible. “Please. Give me your cock. I’m begging you. I want both of you in me already.”

Donghyuck doesn’t respond, but he does acknowledge your words, slowly tugging his fingers out of you. A moment later, something hard presses up against you, and your moan escalates exponentially once you feel it stretch you. You have to constantly tell yourself not to tense up, but with how desperate you are, you can’t help but feel a little tightly wound, and there’s a small bite of pain when the tip of Donghyuck’s cock makes it past the first ring of muscle.  

Mark’s hands leave your waist, lacing into your fingers and squeezing them reassuringly. You’ve gone back to swearing again, your voice more guttural this time, as Donghyuck works his way further into you. His hands are back on your cheeks, trying to help himself in by spreading them slightly as he moves. It takes what feels like an eternity before he bottoms out, and you let out a long, heavy sigh of relief, belatedly realizing you’d been holding your breath this entire time.  

Donghyuck’s breathing is pretty loud at this point; his hands are roaming across your back aimlessly. “You’re tight as hell. How does it feel?”  

“Fucking incredible,” you whimper. “I feel so fucking full.”

You don’t know if they’d quietly agreed on something, but Mark and Donghyuck start moving at the same time, at the same pace. It’s difficult to decide which feeling to focus on, and you have to shut your eyes to block out anything else that might distract you from the pleasure. Your nails bite into the backs of Mark’s palms, but he doesn’t say anything against it; his breathing is coming out a little more labored too as he thrusts up into you.

Donghyuck loses his reluctance a lot more quickly than Mark, you’ve come to learn; once he’s realized you’re not complaining, he starts speeding up, trying to match Mark’s practiced intensity. You let go of Mark’s hands, letting them move back to their original position as you press your palms against the couch, lifting your torso up slightly. Donghyuck’s hands, on the other hand, find their way to your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers.  

“Harder,” you whisper, now fully adjusted to the situation. “Fuck me harder, please, please.”  

No one objects at this point, each one of you ultimately more concerned with chasing your highs. Mark adjusts himself under you so that he has more mobility, and his thrusts become sharper in tandem with Donghyuck’s. The moans leaving you are shorter but more frequent, breathless and a little too loud, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. A small part of you is astonished at the idea that twenty-four hours ago, it had never crossed your mind that you’d be naked in between your boyfriend and his best friend, but that small part is ultimately shunted by the knowledge that, twenty-four hours later, you are, in fact, in haphazardly planned threesome with the aforementioned people.  

You haven’t said anything for a while now, having lost your own ability to form anything coherent and replacing words with garbled moans. Your expression has probably been dazed for the last few minutes, and when you look down, Mark is staring intently at you. Without any prompt, you lean down, pressing your lips hard against his; his mouth moves against yours, engaging you in a messy and wet kiss that ends with his tongue in your mouth and you suckling on it. Donghyuck’s fingers are digging into your breasts, squeezing them tightly as he briefly interrupts his thrusting to grind his hips up against your ass. You groan in surprise, letting go of Mark’s tongue, and Donghyuck takes this opportunity to tug you up, holding you flush against his chest. His hands move in opposite directions, one hand snaking around your waist tightly, the other dragging up against your cleavage and landing at the base of your throat, tightening a little.  

“Want to tell us what’s going on?” He seems to be taking a page out of Mark’s book. “Tell us what’s happening to you.”  

The first thing that leaves you is a whimper; you’re pretty sure you’ve been speaking in tongues for the past five minutes or so, and your mind is blanking out. Donghyuck’s fingers squeeze a little more against your throat before loosening again.  

“Come on, mommy,” he whispers into your ear, and you squeeze your eyes shut for a second, trying to keep yourself from imploding at that second. “Talk to me. What’s happening to you right now?”  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you hiss out, feeling his fingers tighten and loosen again. “I’m getting fucked so good, holy shit—”

“Yeah? So good you’re going to cum for us again?”

“Yes, yes, oh my God,” your voice is thick, and it doesn’t help that Donghyuck’s hand squeezes around your throat in increasingly longer intervals. “I’m going to cum so hard. Please — don’t stop, don’t stop—”  

You yelp as Mark’s hips jerk up sharply, stopping for a second before he continues; the result is him falling out of sync with Donghyuck, thrusting in just as Donghyuck pulls back. The new rhythm gives you very little pause, and you feel your arousal heightening much more quickly. You know that Mark, at least, is close; his eyes are shut, and he’s starting to moan lowly — usual tells you’ve noticed over time. The timing seems perfect, then, as Donghyuck presses his lips back to your ear.

“Where should we cum, noona?” He murmurs. “It’s your choice this time.”  

You’re in no real state to make decisions, so you don’t answer right away. The only prompt you have to do so is Donghyuck’s hand once again closing around your throat, cutting off your air supply for a sweet second before letting you breathe again. You’re so close, you can’t care about logistics, and moving would just ruin everything.  

“Cum in me, baby,” you reply hoarsely. “Fuck — please, cum in me.”  

Donghyuck gives your throat one last squeeze, a slightly longer one, fingers flexing against your neck as he buries his cock into you with a throaty groan. You feel the heat almost immediately, and your vision whites out around the edges for a moment before he frees you. You use the air that fills your lungs almost immediately, moaning unrestrainedly as you climax once again, pulsing around both of their cocks. Mark moves his hips for your sake, hitting your sweet spot help you ride it out until you come back down. Donghyuck gently pulls his hands away, and your spine suddenly feels like jelly; you collapse into Mark with a soft thud.

A moment of stillness follows, filled only with heavy breathing and the occasionally whispered curse word. The three of you stay that way for five blissful minutes, until Donghyuck’s phone starts ringing obnoxiously from his bag near the door. The call drops and goes to voicemail because he takes his time pulling out, wasting a couple more seconds to watch a bit of his cum dribble out with an appreciative hum. When the phone rings again, you swat him away, and he sprints across the floor to dig it out of his bag. It’s Renjun, you learn when he answers the phone.  

You and Mark watch him converse with Renjun naturally, like he hadn’t been deep up your ass a moment ago, talking about an assignment he had forgotten to do research on. When he says he’s going to go online so the two of them can discuss, he shoots the two of you a look, like he’s asking you for permission. Mark mouths for him to stop dawdling and get to work, and Donghyuck pulls a face as he picks his backpack and trudges into his room. You notice he peeks at the two of you surreptitiously just before he closes the door.  

“Good job, mommy,” Mark murmurs when Donghyuck is finally out of earshot. He pushes your hair away from your face, tucking locks messily behind your ear to keep them from falling into his face and tickling his nose.  

“I could really get used to that name, but I might miss the title he stole from me now and again.”  

“I don’t mind either way,” he chuckles. “They both kind of suit you.”  

“At least we worked that out,” you hum softly. “I kind of felt bad for him at the beginning.”  

“He pouted and got to cum twice. Things work out.”

You stare down at him, confusion suddenly seeping into your expression. “Yeah. But you didn’t. At all.”  

“I know. It’s not like I can cum like this,” he laughs. “You have to move off of me. Quick, too, because I’ve been holding it in forever.”  

“Why?” You ask, perplexed.

“What do you mean, why? Because I can’t reach your mouth from down here.”

“You don’t have to,” you press a hand to his chest, stopping him from moving up. He meets your eye, now confused too. “I meant what I said. I want you to cum in me.”  

Shock crosses his face. “But—”

“Didn’t you want to? The first time?” He nods, and you tilt your head questioningly. “Do you not want to now?”

“I do. I mean — it would be so hot, but I’m just — I mean, are you sure?”  

“I’m sure.” You lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “It’s okay. I want to feel you.”  

He looks up at you, unblinking, assessing your expression like he’s trying to figure out if you’re just pranking him. When he decides you aren’t, he nods, and you dip your head again to press your lips to his. His hands grip your waist once again, and you feel him start to thrust — slowly at first, his speed building gradually. Your hands are pressed to his jaw, thumbs running up against his cheek as you kiss him — adoringly, carefully.  

His movements still for a moment, and you think he’s already climaxing, but you only feel your body shift in position; the next thing you know, you’re lying back against the couch, Mark hovering above you. He thrusts in deeper, sharper, and you whine, reaching out to press your hand to the back of his neck and bringing his head down. Your foreheads touch, and there’s very little gap between your lips and his, but you don’t close it. Instead, you keep your gaze locked on his, letting the breath that accompanies your moans wash over his lips as his hips start to move more intensely.  

That same expression you know so well starts to form on his face again; his eyes, however, are still uncertain, searching yours, offering you room to back out. You shake your head, but his brow only furrows deeper.  

“I’m okay,” you whisper, only loud enough for him to hear. “Please. I want it.”  

“You’re sure?” He rasps out. His voice sounds a little broken, like he’s doing all he can to keep himself from tipping over the edge. “I can still… I can still pull out.”  

“Don’t,” your voice comes out a little more sharply. “I want all of your cum. Please, daddy.”  

“I—” You feel his cock twitch in you, and his eyes start to close again. “God, I’m—”

“Daddy, please,” you urge him, your fingers pressing hard against his sides. “I want it. I want your cum. I want your baby. Please. Fill me up.”  

“Fuck—” His hips jerk, and he snaps them forward, burying himself inside you. You feel his release a moment later, and you mewl softly, tightening around him. He doesn’t move this time, and when his eyes open, they immediately shine with concern. You shake your head, tilting your head up to press a reassuring kiss to his lips.  

Even with him slowly softening inside you, he doesn’t pull out; you stay in the same position for some time, exchanging light kisses. At one point, he leans in, pressing a kiss much firmer than the others, and when he pulls back, words that break the silence tumble out.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ve never… I’ve never wanted anyone but you. Ever.”  

You lie there, stunned at the sudden confession. Mark doesn’t even look remotely abashed or regretful; he just stares down at you, and it doesn’t even look like he’s waiting for a response. You reach up, trapping his face between your palms and inching your head forward to press another deep kiss to his lips.  

“I love you,” you murmur against his mouth. “I always will.”  

At your words, he tugs you up with him, gathering you into his arms. His lips rest on your forehead, unmoving, hand rubbing your back lightly.  

It would have ended an extremely heartfelt moment, if not for the soft cough that had caused you to look up and see Donghyuck standing by his door, now fully clothed and slightly amused.

“So you guys decide to act like a normal, loving, not-kinky couple now?”

Love on Me. [M]

Genre: Non Idol Au, Slice of Life, Romance, Smut

Warnings: SMUT, handjob, oral sex, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE A MINOR OMG 

Pairing: Member [Haechan] x Reader 

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: You have to choose between fulfilling the needs of your lovable boyfriend or finishing your work for the day. 

A/N: I REALLY DON’T KNOW. Just something to pass the time. I needed to get this out of my system. 

You shuffle around the kitchen, purposely avoiding your boyfriend at all costs. You have a lot of work to get done before the midnight deadline and he is being particularly needy. Again.

You finish making your smoothie and start to twist the lid onto the bottle, when you feel soft but intentional hands wrap around your waist. Your shoulders rise and slowly descend as you sigh, but you made no attempt to move away.

“Baby, please. I just need twenty minutes.” Haechan softly pleads in your ear. “You haven’t paid attention to me all day. What am I supposed to do?”

You slide your body around so you are now facing Haechan. His hands are now on your lower back so you wrap your arms around his neck and gently run your fingers through the thick, brown locks of hair. Pools of hickory stare at you through half lidded eyes and you feel yourself begin to falter.

“Don’t make that face.” You say with a soft smile.

“You think you can deprive me of what I want and then give me orders?” Haechan smirks as his face slowly draws closer. Your heart leaps as he makes direct eye contact with you, before his eyes slowly close and you feel warm soft lips on your own. You kiss him back without any hesitation as the heat from his kiss sends all of your previous thoughts out of your head. He pulls you in closer as his arms wrap around your waist and you moan into the kiss before you pull yourself away.

“Babe, I have so much work that I need to get done.” You looked up into his eyes and instantly regretted it.

Haechan was gazing at you through hazed, half lidded eyes. He softly bit his plump bottom lip but said nothing. Instead, he let his hand enter your shirt and started to create circular motions with his fingers. He searched your eyes for a signal, but you kissed him before he could find it. His eager lips immediately mirrored your own, until he eventually pushed his tongue through, allowing himself to taste you in what seemed like eternity for him.

He pulls you back into him and you feel his warm cock against your core. That’s when you knew. He was going to win.

Haechan started to undress you, slowly. He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and began to pull it up, when you stopped him and broke the kiss.

He looked at you with his eyes full of sadness. They drooped and his eyebrows creased as he quietly whined. “Baby, no.” He shook his head and nuzzled into your neck. Soft kisses were showered onto your skin as Haechan frantically tried to gain the upperhand.

“Babe, I just want us to move to the bedroom, that’s all.” You managed to get out before a moan escaped.

“Let’s just do it here.” Haechan groaned, still fixated on your neck.

He never was the patient type.

“I was thinking I could do that thing that you like.” You whisper in his ear.

He groans and faces you again. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. It’s only going to make me more upset.” Haechan gives you a small pout but you take his hand and lead him to the bedroom.

As soon as you let go of Haechan’s hand, he begins to undress. You look back at him and giggle at his sense of urgency. You sit on the bed and pull your oversized shirt over your head and throw it over the edge of the bed.

Haechan speeds up his disrobing once he sees your bare chest and joins you on bed. You eyed his veiny, rock hard member as he laid down and waited for you.

You smiled at him and slowly started to rub his shaft. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting. I promise I’ll make it better.” You tell him before giving a few kitten licks to the head.

“Baby, please don’t tease me. I want it so bad.” Haechan whined, as the bedsheets gathered in his fists.

You nodded and licked from the bottom of his shaft, all the way to the top and let a wad of spit fall into the head before taking his entire cock into your mouth.

“Oh shit!” He moaned and you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth. He slightly shook as you started to bob your head, ensuring you were sucking him off fully. You gagged when you reached the bottom of his shaft and used a hand to massage his balls as he started to moan from above you.

“Baby, that feels soooo fucking good.” Haechan panted as he watched you take his entire cock into your mouth over and over again. Once you felt Haechan had his fill, you sat up, grabbed a tube of lube from the night stand, and then poured some into your hand. You then motioned for Haechan to come to you.

He obeyed and sat in between your legs with his back to your chest. He wrapped an arm around one of your thighs and laid on your chest as you reached for his glistening member.

“Are you ready?” You ask him softly.

“Yes.” He whimpered softly.

You kiss the outer shell of Haechan’s ear as you begin to stroke his wet and hard cock. You hear his breath get caught in his chest as his cock twitched in your hands. You smeared the lube all over the surface of his shaft as Haechan quietly cursed underneath his breath.

“Does it feel good, baby?” You quietly spoke into his ear as the sound of his ragged breathing grew louder.

“Yes, it feels really good, baby.” Haechan huffed. “Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, of course not. I know you want me to milk you until you cum.” You now started to pump his cock a little faster and he whimpered in response. His arm tightened around your thigh as his stomach slightly caved in, the pleasure too immense for him to withstand. You giggled in his ear and gently massaged his tip, the lube aiding you and causing your thumb to freely glide over it.  

“Fuck, I’m so close.” Haechan softly whimpered. “Baby, I’m gonna cum, oh my God...”

“So soon, baby?” You seductively ask in his ear as you reverted back to milking his hard member once again. “You can do better than this.”

Haechan loved this. He loved your voice in his ear, talking him through the obscene motions. He loved the feeling of you controlling his release. You didn’t do it often because he was still too shy to ask you but he would immediately follow your lead if you offered.

“Your hands are so soft and warm.” Haechan groans, bringing a finger to his mouth. He barely bites his pointer finger, when he quietly moans with a following tremble. The sound of wet skin continued to fill the room as you played with his shaft.

“Do you think you can last a little longer for me? I was thinking maybe I could put my finger-” But you never finished. 

Haechan lost it. His hips jerked up, as he groaned and fluttered his eyes closed. “Fuckkkkkk.” His hips rolled as you felt liquid land on your hand. “Ahh.” Haechan panted as more spurts of cum left him. Once he was done, he made no attempt to move away from you. His chest rose and fell as he tried to gather energy, so you softly removed yourself from behind him so you could walk to the bathroom and wash your hands.

And for the first time that night, he let you leave his side.

He was satisfied.

You were rinsing your hands when Haechan appeared behind you, still naked. He looked shy and embarrassed and you couldn’t help but giggle at how cute he was.

“I wanted to say thank you.” He kissed you on the cheek and hugged you tightly. “I know I can be a pain but I just- I just really like it when we…” He trailed off.

You wiped your hands on a towel and nodded. “I know, baby.”

Haechan smiles at you and rubs your bare ass. He bit his lip and shook his head but said nothing.

“What?” You asked him, unsure of what he could possibly want.

“Will you please come back to bed?” He finally asks.

Oh, brother.

Love on Me. [M]

Genre: Non Idol Au, Slice of Life, Romance, Smut

Warnings: SMUT, handjob, oral sex, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE A MINOR OMG 

Pairing: Member [Haechan] x Reader 

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: You have to choose between fulfilling the needs of your lovable boyfriend or finishing your work for the day. 

A/N: I REALLY DON’T KNOW. Just something to pass the time. I needed to get this out of my system. 

Keep reading

forget him

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “What if… what if I helped you out a little?” His words hang in the air, and your room feels thick with tension. You’re acutely aware of the toy still pressed between your thighs. “Look,” Hyuck says, voice softer, “I hate seeing you cry- but seeing you cry about something good might make us both feel better.”

tw/cw. recent breakup, fingering, Hyuck walks in while y/n is masturbating, masturbation, assisted masturbation, toy/dildo use, overstimulation, dacryphilia, reader has multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, big dick Hyuck, pussy stretching, dirty talk, praise, talking about y/n's ex while they fuck, marking/claim kink, full/breeding kink, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous, babe, good girl.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 7.1k

🍭 aus. friends to lovers, roommates au, recent breakup, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. When I tell you I need to be demolished by this Hyuck-

Hyuck absolutely hates seeing you like this. 

He’d thought it had been hard seeing you in love with his best friend Mark Lee, but seeing you in the throws of depression after your recent breakup takes the cake for Hyuck when it comes to him having a straight up horrible time.

Obviously, you have it worse, and he’s not trying to contest that fact- he just hadn’t realized that when the thing he’d been hoping for actually came to pass- it would feel this bad. 

In the dark reaches of his mind, he wonders if he’d had something to do with the separation, although, in truth, he knows that’s ridiculous. He’d been as supportive as a friend and roommate could be about you and Mark. He’d forced smiles and words of encouragement when you’d gushed through the talking phase. He’d found ways to ditch the apartment when you and Mark started to get physical, doing his best to give you privacy while getting high as a kite at Lee Jeno’s place to distract himself from the fact that you were getting railed by someone other than him. And now, he supposes, he’s doing his due diligence in making you feel better when you’re at your worst.

Hyuck’s doing the best he can to make things easy for you. He’s set up movie days, and he’s made you ramen. He’s allowed you to shuffle closer to him on the couch, even resting your head on his shoulder any time you start to tear up. He’s paused films to listen to you explain things like “When Mark and I watched this, he would always get so excited when Totoro would show up” or “Mark hated No Face.” 

He wonders if doing a Ghibli marathon is the best idea, given how much you associate it with Mark, but when he’d asked you about it and you insisted you would feel better watching the films, he’d left it at that.

You’re your own person, and Hyuck’s always trusted you to make the best decisions for yourself… even when he doesn’t agree with them.

Cuddled next to you on your living room couch, Hyuck does his best just to be there for you. He ignores the boys’ group chat messages, where other friends are taking care of Mark. As far as Hyuck’s concerned, he’s team you, all the way, and he always has been.

He notices the way you start to shift next to him, pulling away from his shoulder to stretch your arms over your head.

“You good?” Hyuck asks, looking away from the movie to give you his complete and undivided attention.

“Yeah,” you sigh, frowning slightly. “Just tired.”

“Do you want to go to bed?” He studies your face, noticing all the signs of exhaustion- although, to be fair, you’ve been a sleepy wreck of a thing since your breakup two weeks ago.

“I probably should,” you concede, taking another deep breath. “Thanks for making me dinner and watching movies with me.”

“Don’t mention it,” Hyuck says, flashing you a small smile as he straightens in his seat, reaching for the remote to stop the movie.

“You’ve been so nice since… since the whole Mark thing.” He can see you swallowing back tears, and you reach up to wipe your eye with the sleeve of your hoodie. 

“That’s what friends are for,” Hyuck assures you, although, his attention toward you has always far surpassed that of a friend. It’s a shame you’ve never realized that fact.

“Just… thanks,” you say again, holding open your arms for a hug that Hyuck is more than happy to give you. 

He adjusts on the couch, leaning forward to scoop you into his arms. Your cheek presses to his shoulder and he breathes in the smell of your fruity body wash. He tries his best not to hug you too hard- because if he did, you might actually realize that every time you hug him, he has no true intention of ever letting you go. 

“Sleep well, okay, gorgeous?” he prompts, stroking your hair and using the petname he’d given you far before you’d ever met Mark. “You really need your rest.”

“I’ll do my best,” you assure him, giving one last gentle squeeze before you pull away.

Hyuck watches you stand up, your hoodie skimming your mid thigh. He knows you’re wearing sleeping shorts under the oversized fabric, but he can’t help but swallow thickly, imagining what it would be like if you were just in panties.

He really has to get his mind out of the gutter, and Hyuck knows that- he’s been trying to, in all honesty he has- but it’s been four years of knowing you, one of living together, and he still can’t manage to keep his thoughts PG. 

With one last small smile, you turn and begin to shuffle to your room.

He misses your lively movements. The first night you’d moved in together, you’d had a small dance party together, and Hyuck’s always been adamant that no one’s hips move like yours do. 

He misses your joy. The way you sparkle when you’re happy. You used to smile like a kid in a candy shop anytime you watched your favourite movies or ate the ramen he’d made for you, but these days, the most you can muster is a small upquirk of the sides of your lips.

Hyuck wants to make you smile again. He’s just not sure how to do it. 

He knows you need time. Time heals all wounds, or so they say. He just wishes he could fast track your recovery.

Your bedroom door shuts and the spell of watching you is broken. Hyuck takes a deep breath, looking around the messy living room. There are blankets and pillows strewn all over, take out boxes from your day inside, tissues from when you’d cried. 

He’s not generally known to be the cleanest man around town, but Hyuck feels that in times like these, the least he can do is keep things tidy. He’s sure you’ll feel better to come out of your room every morning to a nice apartment, so he begins his work of collecting water cups and take away boxes. 

You’ve definitely lost your spark, and Hyuck thinks maybe he has too. He’s used to playing music loudly, using it as energy at all hours of the day, but tonight, while he cleans, he keeps things quiet. His head is full, and his ears are on edge, paying attention to the sounds coming from your room.

In those first days after the breakup, he’d heard you crying a lot, and he’s sure that barging into your room to give you a hug had cheered you up. He’s hoping it won’t be necessary today. 

As much as he loves hugging you, seeing you cry always makes him feel like someone is trying to tear open his chest and clench his heart. It’s an ache he doesn’t enjoy.

When you’d moved in together, he’d decided that as a girl - with monthly girl issues - you should have the bigger room with the connected bathroom, and he listens to the sound of you brushing your teeth and getting ready for bed. 

You begin to hum something, and Hyuck realizes it’s the first time he’s heard you sing since your breakup. 

Maybe tonight will be a good night.

Hyuck has moved all the clutter to the kitchen, and he begins to put stuff in the garbage and dishwasher while he listens to you hum. He thinks about the day you met, at uni orientation. He’d never become friends with someone so fast in his life, and when you’d discovered you had three of five classes together- well, he’s never looked back, not for one second.

He wonders how things would be different if he’d ever manned up and told you how he felt- how he feels- how his affection for you has only been growing and growing- 

Hyuck finds himself heading to the fridge and taking out a beer. He hasn’t been drinking much since you and Mark broke up, hasn’t needed the mind-numbing effects of alcohol, so when he takes a large swig, he finds that it immediately takes the edge off. 

He can’t be thinking about wifing you up right now- no matter how much he might wish to.

Although… as he leans against the sink and downs the can, grabbing another, he begins to wonder if offering himself up to you as a distraction really would be the worst thing in the world. 

Sure, it wouldn’t be the way he’d want to start things with you- but maybe he could make you fall in love with him and forget all about Mark Lee. However, in all honesty, he’d probably be risking your friendship. 

He’s played this mind game with himself too many times before, and Hyuck always finds himself at a stalemate. Frustration bubbles up inside and he looks out at the living room, determined to set himself back on the task of cleaning.

Hyuck throws the pillows onto the couch, and he even begins to fold up a blanket, and that’s when he hears a familiar sound.

You’ve never been the type to seek much affection, especially when you’re in your room, so whenever he’s caught you crying, it’s always started with a whimper.

What Hyuck’s just heard was definitely a whimper, and his whole body surges with white-hot, electric energy, his eyes darting to your door. His breath catches, and he tosses the blanket down to the ground, frozen as he waits for another sound of distress. 

A small gasp can be heard under the crack of your door, and Hyuck’s body bolts into action. He’s moving so fast he stumbles a little over his own feet just as he reaches your room, and he wonders if drinking two beers was a good idea. His hand lands on your door, and he knocks aggressively.

“You okay in there, gorgeous?” he calls.

“I’m fine!” you respond, but there’s definitely an edge to your voice. 

He can tell something is wrong- can tell you’re lying to him, and in a split second, Hyuck is making a decision. 

“I’m coming in.”

You let out a small squeak of surprise, tearing your hand away from the toy still lodged inside of you so you can pull the blankets up around your shoulders, jaw dropping as your roommate barges into your room.

“Hyuck!”

He stands in the doorway, studying you, and you can see a look of confusion cross his face. “I thought I heard you crying.”

“I’m not crying!” you insist, core clenching around the dildo. “Get out!” 

Hyuck doesn’t move. “I definitely heard a whimper,” he insists.

Your heart is practically racing in your chest, and you’re very much aware of the pleasurable feeling still thrumming from your core. Cock warming was something you enjoyed doing with Mark, and the fact that you’re cock warming a toy while Hyuck stares at you is having a wholly unexpected effect on your entire body.

“People whimper for all sorts of reasons!” you say dumbly. “Leave!”

Hyuck tilts his head to the side, assessing you again. “You never speak to me like this.”

“You usually don’t just barge in here unannounced!” 

“Yes, I do,” Hyuck points out. “Why’s tonight different?”

“What do you mean-”

“Something is different,” he says, more firmly this time. His gaze dips, taking in the blanket still wrapped tightly around your form. “Wait…” you see the exact moment he realizes what you’re up to, and even from a few feet away, you see the way his pupils dilate. “Are you…”

“Hyuck-” you groan, lifting the blankets to hide your face, hoping he can’t see the shame that’s beginning to consume you.

“You are, aren’t you?” 

“Are what?” you ask, deciding to play dumb.

You can hear him scoff, and you peak from under the blanket just in time to see his signature eye roll. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, something he does when he’s getting annoyed, and you can feel yourself dripping down your dildo. 

He meets your gaze again. “I didn’t hear a vibrator, so let me guess…” You watch him swallow thickly. “The toy’s still inside of you, isn’t it?”

Curse him for knowing you so well.

Curse him for having a dirty mind.

And maybe most of all, curse yourself for being so stupidly turned on that you can’t even deny what he’s just said. All you can do is groan loudly, hiding again. 

“Do you want me to leave?” he asks after a beat of silence.

“Yes!”

You hear him click his tongue. “Come on, gorgeous. We both know I can tell when you lie to me. We’ve been friends for years, you don’t have to be… ashamed about this.”

But shame is exactly what you’re feeling, and his words don’t help at all. 

“Please, just leave,” you sigh, so embarrassed you think you might actually die.

“What if… what if I helped you out a little?”

His words hang in the air, and your room feels thick with tension. You’re acutely aware of the toy still pressed between your thighs.  

“Look,” Hyuck says, voice softer, “I hate seeing you cry- but seeing you cry about something good might make us both feel better.” 

“You’re being crazy.” You peak out at him. “We’re roommates- Mark is one of your best friends-”

“I’ve known you longer and I’m loyal to you,” Hyuck insists firmly. “And besides, stranger things have happened.”

“Yeah? Like what?” you can’t help but laugh a little, and the contraction of your stomach muscles pushes the toy slightly out of your core, making you groan at the loss.

From the look that crosses Hyuck’s face, he obviously notices your sound, and you watch his tongue dart out to wet his lips. “For one, the fact that you even dated Mark was a little crazy.”

“He’s a nice guy.”

“But nice doesn’t fill you up at night. Nice doesn’t make you cum so hard you feel it through your whole body.” Hyuck holds up a hand. “And before you try to tell me Mark was good in bed, remember that I have a room next to yours. Mark is a nice guy, but that doesn’t mean he can fuck. Not the way you deserve.” 

You shift in your bed, sitting up a little to address your roommate. “Yeah? And how do I deserve to be fucked?” 

“You deserve someone who’s going to worship every inch of you. Someone who’s going to make you cum over and over- make you gush so good you’re begging for it, begging to finally get dicked down so hard you can’t even walk after. Someone who makes you cry for all the right reasons.” 

You stare at Hyuck. 

You’re not even sure what to say. 

He’s never talked like this to you, ever- at least, not in your waking hours.

You’ve had dreams about his sharp tongue, his long fingers, and his big cock- but never gave credence to your lustful fantasies. Hyuck’s always just been a friend- 

“Why now?” you find yourself asking. “After all this time-”

“I’m tired of watching you hurt over something I might be able to help you fix.”

“So cock is the fix to a broken heart?” 

“Gorgeous, I think we both know that what I’m offering you is more than cock.”

“Right, I’m guessing tongue and fingers-”

Hyuck gives you an unimpressed look. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

“That I’m super into you? That I’ve been into you since we met? That it killed me to watch you be with Mark when I knew you should have been with me?” 

“Hyuck-” you breathe, feeling even more whiplash from these words than his dirty talk.

“Look, you don’t have to say anything about that stupid feels shit, just… just let me take care of you tonight.”

“What if we regret it?” You press your thighs together, keeping the toy just inside of you while you begin to fidget with your blanket. “What if it ruins our friendship?”

“I’ve asked myself that same question for years,” Hyuck admits. “But… after looking at you now- I really don’t think that’s something we have to worry about.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’m about to make you cum so hard you forget about every other man in your life.”

“Promise?”

He nods. “Promise.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Hyuck lets out a small laugh. “So… you going to lift those covers and let me see what I’m dealing with or…?”

“God,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands. “This is so embarrassing.”

“I call you gorgeous for a reason, don’t I?” Hyuck grins. “Come on, I wanna see.”

You grab at the blankets, taking a deep breath. Then you start to move them off your body.

Your roommate watches your every movement, dipping his head to focus as you lift the fabric covering your feet, then your calves-

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you tell him.

“Yeah, me neither,” Hyuck admits. “I’ve been waiting so long to see you like this.” 

His words make your stomach erupt in butterflies, and you feel the toy still half wedged in your core. “Should I… should I remove the dildo first?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I wanna see that too.” His eyes meet yours. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re so fucking hot, I’m already hard.”

He reaches a hand down to cup the front of his sweatpants, and you realize he’s not lying. You can see the impressive print of his cock pressing against the fabric, and it makes your mouth water. It also gives you the confidence to fully reveal yourself to his hungry eyes, and the moment he sees you, Hyuck lets out a deep groan.

“Shit, gorgeous,” Hyuck says, letting out a deep breath. “You’re even more perfect than I’ve imagined.”

His words make you feel shy, and you close your legs, only for Hyuck to press a knee to the bed, both hands reaching out to prompt your thighs back open. 

“Don’t hide from me,” he warns, and there’s an edge to his tone. He’s still being soft with you, his touch gentle, but there’s an obvious hunger rising inside of him. “Tell me about this toy.”

“Well, I uh…” you search for your words. “It’s one of the first ones I ever bought-”

“It’s small,” Hyuck notes, which is kind of funny considering it’s Mark sized. “Can I use it on you?”

“You want to fuck me with the toy?” You blink at your long term friend and roommate.

“Gotta stretch you out to take something bigger.” Hyuck smirks devilishly, and your pussy throbs- he’s definitely bigger than Mark and the toy still half lodged inside of you. You can’t wait to find out how much bigger. 

“You can-” you bite at your lip, “you can fuck me with it.”

“Good girl,” Hyuck praises you, and you can feel yourself practically dripping around the dildo now.

You hold your breath in anticipation while Hyuck gets settled on the foot of the bed. His warm palms smooth over your thighs, forcing you wider, and then his fingers grab the base of the toy. “Do you like it slow?”

“I think… to start off with?” You feel too hazy to be able to answer questions, and he hasn’t even started with you. “But… when you fuck me, can you go fast, please?”

“Of course, gorgeous. I can do anything you want,” he assures you, applying pressure to the toy so it begins to lodge deeper inside of you. You let out a small sigh and Hyuck looks up at you, grinning. “You’re so wet, babe, making this too fucking easy.”

“It’s not my fault-” you defend yourself, voice shaky. 

“It’s mine, isn’t it?” His smile widens. “Talking dirty gets you going, huh, gorgeous?”

You nod, resting your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of him beginning to work the toy in and out of your pussy. 

“Bet Mark’s dirty talk game was weak,” Hyuck says under his breath.

You don’t have it in you to agree with him, although… he’s correct. Something tells you he knows it too, because he lets out a small chuckle. 

Hyuck’s using his right hand to fuck you with the toy, and his left moves from your thigh. A moment later, his thumb is rubbing gentle circles on your clit and your toes curl from the stimulation. A gentle gasp escapes you and you can practically hear Hyuck smile.

“Feels good?” he prompts.

“So good,” you nod. You need something to hold onto, so you grab at the one piece of clothing on your body, a night shirt, which you lift up your to your abdomen, giving Hyuck more room to work. 

He rubs your clit harder and you let out a whine, feeling the familiar build of tension in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Hyuck tells you, and you can feel his breath on your pussy which makes you twitch. “God, I could watch you squirm like this all night.”

“Please-”

“Please what?” 

You don’t even know. All you know is listening to the squelching sound of the toy going in and out of you while his thumb rubs your clit is driving you insane.

“I want to kiss you,” you decide, realizing Hyuck’s about to make you cum and you haven’t even really gotten a taste of him. 

Hyuck stops what he’s doing immediately, manuevering up the bed so he’s on top of you, one hand pressed to the pillow while he looks down at you.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he grins.

Your hands explore his shoulders and one snakes into his hair, then you’re tugging his mouth down to your own. Hyuck’s gentle with you at first, but when you go to bite on his lower lip, he groans loudly. His tongue darts out to brush against your own, and the kiss deepens. 

You’re done with your toy. You want to feel him, and you reach between your bodies to remove the dildo, pulling it out and tossing it onto the floor next to the bed.

Hyuck breaks your kiss to look at the wet toy on the ground, and he lets out a small laugh, gaze returning to your own. “Why’d you do that?”

“I want you.”

“Yeah?” His hand slips between your forms, and two digits stroke the length of your pussy, making you moan. “Want me to make you cum all over my fingers?”

You nod, grabbing at the front of his shirt, tugging his mouth back to yours while he buries himself into you knuckle deep.

He strokes your walls, and the feeling is absolutely delightful, especially when he angles his hand, palm pressing to your clit while he seeks out your gspot. 

His lips are hot against your own, and they don’t muffle the sound of pleasure escaping you. 

Hyuck’s a bit of a gamer, but you never really realized his fingers could feel this good- 

“Shit, gorgeous,” he groans, breaking the kiss to move his mouth to your throat, where he lets out deep breaths. “You’re dripping all over my hand.”

“I’m so close-” you confess, gripping his shoulders tighter while he finger fucks you even harder, chasing your release.

“You’ll be a good girl and cum for me, right?” Hyuck prompts, which makes you mewl. “Yeah, you’ve always been such a good girl, gonna be good and cum all over my fingers-”

His words make you throb, and he applies more pressure to your clit with his palm. His lips press kisses to your neck and he finds your sweetspot, making everything feel all the more intense.

You’re on the edge, and you let out a loud gasp, clenching your eyes shut in anticipation.

“Cum for me, gorgeous. Come on, I wanna feel you.”

His words make the cord in your stomach snap, and your body is flooded with the pleasure of your release. You feel it everywhere, and it makes you cry out while holding onto him tighter. His hand continues between your thighs, fingers unrelenting, palm heavy on your clit. 

Hyuck works you through your orgasm until you’re gasping and pushing at his shoulders, and then he straightens a little, motions stopping while he looks down at you. “Did you enjoy that?”

You can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes a little. “You know I did.”

“Yeah, but you could still stroke my ego a little.”

“Stroke your ego?” You reach for his cock, gripping him through his sweats. “Like this?”

Hyuck lets out a low groan, thrusting forward to meet your hand. “As much as I’d love to watch you jack me off- tonight I’m here to make you feel better, and I’m not anywhere near being done with you yet.”

You’d never realized Hyuck had any self control, and you watch in shock as he gently moves your hand away.

“I’m going to eat you out now,” he tells you, slipping down the bed so he’s on his stomach between your legs. Hyuck spreads you open, gently kissing your inner thigh before looking up at you. “You good with this?”

“Uh huh,” you breathe, swallowing thickly as you prepare yourself for his tongue. “I’m still sensitive though.”

“I’ll go easy on you,” Hyuck promises, pressing a very soft kiss to your clit. “I can be gentle, contrary to popular belief.” 

You can’t help but let out a giggle, but the sound is cut short when Hyuck unexpectedly buries his face between your thighs. His tongue presses into your hole and the feeling has your legs quaking as he adjusts them over his shoulders, trying to dive even deeper.

“Shit, Hyuck-” you whimper, grabbing at his hair.

He’s always been a bit of a liar- maybe you shouldn’t have believed him when he said he’d go easy on you. But… at the same time, the way his nose repeatedly bumps your clit has a fire building in your abdomen again, and you really aren’t even that mad about it.

You can feel Hyuck smile against you, and it’s such a turn on to know he’s enjoying himself while providing you with pleasure. Mark had always been somewhat rigid in your sexual interactions, much more serious than the grinning cheshire cat between your legs now. 

Where Mark had been slow and tentative, Hyuck’s eager and passionate. He switches between lapping at your hole, sucking your clit, and pushing his tongue into you as deep as it can go, licking at your walls and working you up way faster than anyone else ever has in your entire life.

Then he begins to groan, and you realize he’s grinding against the bed-

Is eating you out really that sexy for him? 

You feel another gush of wetness from the thought and your pussy throbs, warning you both that you’re close again. Hyuck responds by adjusting ever so slightly, lips wrapping around your clit while he pushes a hand to your entrance, slipping two fingers inside.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum-” you gasp, back arching off the bed while the cord in your stomach is pulled unbelievably tight. 

Hyuck’s fingers twist in and out of your hole, and he licks at your clit in the most sloppy manner- it’s enough to have you exploding, a cry of pleasure escaping you while your core clamps down on your roommate. 

He groans loudly, sinfully, and the vibration against your clit has your legs shaking around his head, orgasm pulsing deep through your entire being. 

You’re practically crying at this point, and you can feel tears even while you clench your eyes shut, taking everything Hyuck’s giving you while moaning like a whore- you’ve never sounded this way, and there’s something almost addicting about the noises being torn out of you.

You know he feels it too, because Hyuck is completely unrelenting. If anything, he’s even more sloppy with the way he worships your pussy, fingers crooking up expertly-

You’re literally gushing around him, and you can feel it, can feel that your bed is going to be ruined after this. But you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can do is grab at your sheets, crying to the ceiling while your best friend makes you feel pleasure so intense that you can’t even think. 

He’s fulfilled his promise about making you cry for good reasons… and he hasn’t even taken his cock out yet.

You’ve never been this needy in your entire life, and when he pulls away from your core, allowing you to catch your breath, you peak out at him from under wet lashes. 

“You’re literally perfect,” he tells you, voice deep. His pupils are completely blown now and he’s breathing as heavily as you are.

You watch him bring glistening fingers up to his lips, slowly sucking them clean and moaning loudly at the taste of you before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Fuck, and you’re already crying-” Hyuck sits up, leaning over you and reaching out to brush some of your tears away. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.” 

“Hyuck-” you whimper, shocked that you’re choking up.

Your body is still being flooded with emotion and sensations. Your nipples are hard under your shirt and the fabric is becoming uncomfortable, making you more sensitive-

“Going to let me take care of you now, right, gorgeous?” he asks, pinching at your chin and leaning in to kiss you softly.

“Please-” You grab at your shirt and Hyuck follows through by helping you take it off.

You’re now fully revealed to him, and your best friend sits back to appreciate you, letting out a deep breath. 

“Mark’s so fucking stupid for letting you go,” Hyuck says.

His words are bitter sweet, and in your overstimulated state, you find your lower lip wobbling as you hold back a choked sob. 

“Shh,” Hyuck whispers, reaching out to cup your cheek. “It’s better to be with someone who knows your worth, like I do. I’d never fucking treat you the way he did- I promise.”

The look on his face is so intense, and you know he’s telling you the truth.

Your body relaxes a little- Hyuck really is such a good guy, and what he’s doing for you helps more than he’ll probably ever know. He’s making you feel sexy again, making you feel needed and wanted and maybe even loved. 

“Besides,” Hyuck clears his throat, taking off his own shirt, “I’m going to fuck you so good you’ll forget all about that asshole.”

You can’t help but laugh sadly, wiping at your own face to get rid of the last tears while you watch Hyuck move to work on his sweats. 

When he pushes the waistband down, revealing his cock, you think you might actually faint.

You’ve always thought Hyuck was a pretty guy, sexy of course, but pretty too- and his cock? It’s as stupidly pretty as the rest of him.

He must be a little over seven inches, and he’s girthy too-

You can feel yourself practically drooling as you look at him, and Hyuck smirks at your reaction. “Sure you’re ready for this, gorgeous?”

“If you don’t fuck me I think I might die.”

He laughs at your words. “Then I guess I better fuck you.”

“Should we…” you bite at your lip. “Do we need condoms?”

“Babe,” Hyuck scoffs. “Babe- we’re both clean, right? And I know you’re on birth control… do you want me to wear a condom? I always kind of imagined you’d be the kind of girl who wants to be full.”

How many times has he imagined this, you wonder. 

But he’s right. You want him to fill you up like no one else has.

“Come here,” you say, holding open your arms while he kicks his sweats off.

Hyuck’s hands find the pillows by your head and he slots himself between your legs, lips pressing against your own.

You thread your fingers through his soft brown hair, kissing him eagerly. You want to get lost in him, and it’s easy to do that when he begins to rut his cock against your pussy, bumping your clit and making your thighs shake around his hips.

“Just fuck me,” you groan, already feeling so unbelievably needy.

Hyuck smirks against your lips, pulling away to look down at you with mischief in his eyes. “You’re so fucking hot it’s insane.”

“Then why aren’t you inside me yet?”

He moans a little, dipping his head to look between your bodies while he reaches for the base of his cock, lining himself up with your hole. “If it hurts, I’ll stop.”

You’re about to scoff and tell him he’s not that big when he pushes his head into your entrance and a gasp leaves your lips. The stretch is very real, and you wrap your arms tighter around his shoulders, closing your eyes and focusing on getting your body to relax.

You can practically feel your pussy struggling to make room for him, and even though you’re as wet as a fucking slip and slide, it’s still a little difficult for him to push in inch after inch-

“Fuck,” you whimper, and Hyuck rewards you by burying his face in your throat, peppering your skin in kisses. The soft feeling of his lips is enough to distract you from the intrusion opening up your pussy, and soon his hips are flush against your own, making you both release groans of pleasure.

“You ready for this?” Hyuck asks.

“God, yes-” 

He reaches for your hand, pressing it to the pillow and threading your fingers. Then he kisses you softly-

When he begins to rut into you, it’s anything but soft.

Hyuck’s motions are calculated and rough, the tip of his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you that has you squeezing his hand. You’d be cussing if it weren’t for his hot lips against your own, lips that have gotten increasingly demanding, his tongue stroking yours while you gasp.

It feels amazing- like, truly. You’ve never been fucked like this, and he’s only just started.

He stops kissing you, breathing heavily while he fucks you even harder. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“You’re literally balls deep inside of me,” you nearly laugh. “You can ask me anything.”

“I’m just,” Hyuck groans, squeezing your hand. “Did you ever think about me when you were fucking Mark?”

Your pussy clenches at the question, from shock or hornyness, you’re not sure. 

“I-”

“You did, didn’t you?” Hyuck grins. “Don’t think I didn’t just feel you get super fucking tight around me- God, you are dirty like me, aren’t you, gorgeous? I thought… thought that when you started dating soft boy Mark, maybe you were more vanilla, but that’s not you, is it?”

“No-”

“You like to get fucked, properly, don’t you, babe?” Hyuck continues.

“Fuck, yes-”

“And Mark didn’t know how to do that for you, did he? Mark didn’t know how to make you wet like this, didn’t know how to make you cry or scream or beg-”

You can’t bring yourself to verbally slander Mark while Hyuck’s fucking you like a wild man, so instead you just shake your head. Your confirmation makes Hyuck grin, and he fucks you even harder, the whole bed rocking while the sound of skin on skin fills the room. 

“You know what? Enough about Mark. Forget him. You don’t need him anymore.” Hyuck’s mouth is hot on your neck and his words make you shiver as he moves to suck your earlobe. “You only need me. You only need me, I promise.” 

Hyuck lets go of your hand and you’re about to argue with him about it when he shoves his fingers between your bodies, rubbing at your clit while he fucks you.

“Hyuck!” you whimper, writhing beneath him.

“That’s it gorgeous. I wanna ruin you for anyone else. After this, no one’s going to make you cum like I can.” He’s groaning now, voice all breathy and super sexy- “If I make you cum three times the first time I fuck you, that means you’re mine right?”

You moan loudly at the idea, grabbing his shoulders while he works you closer and closer to yet another orgasm that you have no doubt will be as mind blowing as the first two. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” Hyuck says, voice gruffer now. “Fuck, gorgeous, I want you so badly- just say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp when he applies more pressure to your clit.

“That’s my girl,” Hyuck smiles against your neck. “You’ll let me mark you right? Let me suck some pretty bruises into your skin so every time you look in the mirror you know your roommate fucks you right-”

His tongue darts out, licking a stripe of your throat before his lips press to your sweet spot. He suctions his mouth onto you, teeth grazing your skin and causing you to cry out while you move your hands to tug on his hair.

Hyuck lets out a sinful groan when you pull gently on his soft brown strands, but he doesn’t let up. He’s entirely focused on you and your pleasure, cock continuing to rearrange your insides while his fingers abuse your nearly overstimulated clit-

“I’m so close-” you whimper, eyes closed as your body once again approaches the edge with startling speed. 

“Yeah?” Hyuck moves away from your neck and you get the sense that he’s looking down at you. “Gonna cum on this cock and let me fill you up? Gonna let me breed you like the good girl you are? Make you so stupidly full that you’re fucking dripping?”

“Yes, fuck, Hyuck, please-” You’re on the verge of tears again, whole body thrumming with energy-

“Then cum for me. Let me fucking feel you.” 

You twitch from his words, and then you’re falling over the edge, gasping and clawing at him while you’re overcome with ecstasy. You’re not sure if it’s because this is your third orgasm, or if it’s because his cock is balls deep inside of you, but this orgasm is the most intense of them all.

You’re reduced to a completely primal side of yourself, brain short circuiting while your body takes over. There are no thoughts, only the attempt to process all the pleasure that’s flowing through you like a river that’s broken through a dam. 

The sounds escaping you are unlike anything that has ever come from your vocal cords, and Hyuck is also cumming, groaning loudly as he presses his lips to yours. His tongue is hot as it licks at your bottom lip, and his thrusts are erratic. 

He takes his hand away from your clit in favour of finding yours again, fingers locking while he squeezes you. You can feel the passion radiating off of him, can feel that this won’t be a one time thing and you both know it.

Hyuck takes care of you through your orgasms until you’re both finished, and his motions begin to slow until he’s simply half laying on top of you, his kisses much more gentle as you gasp into each others mouths. 

His hips are flush against your own, keeping his cum inside of you while you make out. His body is warm and it almost feels like a security blanket draped across your own. Hyuck’s fingers are still tangled with yours, and it feels nice just to be holding someone’s hand again.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” Hyuck groans, pulling away from your lips, “if we keep kissing I might have to fuck you again, and I don’t think you could take another orgasm.”

“Not tonight,” you agree, blinking up at your roommate. 

It’s like you’re seeing him in a new light, and you assess the soft details of his features. He really is a beautiful man.

“And we ruined your bed,” Hyuck says with a grin. “You were squirting earlier and your sheets are too wet to sleep in, so I guess that means you’re coming to my room tonight.”

“You want me to sleep with you?” you nearly laugh.

“I’d honestly be offended if you didn’t.” He lets go of your hand, pushing himself off of you. “I didn’t get to touch your tits at all, and I’d like to have something to grab onto when we sleep.”

“God, you’re such a menace,” you giggle, pushing at his chest.

“You love it,” Hyuck insists, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Come on, we should shower.”

“So we’re showering together now too? Weren’t you the guy who said Mark was being clingy by wanting to see me every day when we started dating?”

“It’s clingy when Mark does it,” Hyuck notes. “When I do it, it’s endearing and charming and sexy-”

“Sure it is,” you say sarcastically, shaking your head at him.

“What happened to my good girl?” Hyuck teases. “If you keep talking back, I might be tempted to ruin you in the shower.”

Now that you’re thinking about it, that doesn’t actually sound like the worst thing in the world.

“Fine, let’s go,” you concede, letting out a sigh.

There’s so much you could say about what has just taken place, but one thing you can state with confidence is that you do feel better. Hyuck had made you forget about Mark, if only for a short while before he started shit talking his friend- but, his words of slander hadn’t actually made you mad or sad or upset- they’d actually kind of had the opposite effect.

Life will go on after Mark Lee, and Hyuck’s made you realize that.

In fact, maybe your life after Mark will go on with Hyuck. 

Maybe it was always meant to be this way. 

You’re too tired to think about these big ideas in detail tonight, not after everything that’s just happened. Instead, you allow yourself to live in the moment, allow your roommate to take care of you the way he always has.

For now, this is more than enough. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm back in my Hyuck feels again

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🔮 preview. “So perfect,” Hyuck tells you, reaching his hands up to cup your breasts.  Before he can dive in, however, you press the ice pack to his face again and he winces below you. A scowl forms, and he glares into your eyes. “Maybe I don’t like it when you take care of me.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, thigh riding, multiple reader orgasms, dirty talk, praise, claim kink, boob worship, big dick Hyuck, sex in on the living room couch, physical altercation between new boy and ex, overstim, holding off an orgasm, cumming together, light spanking, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous, babe .

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bonus

“Dude,” Jeno sighs, staring at the man sitting on his couch. “You did not-”

“Except that I did,” Hyuck smirks. “You should be happy for me.”

“Is that what you’re going to say to Mark after you tell him you fucked his ex?” Renjun asks, narrowing his eyes at their naughtiest friend. 

“Actually,” Hyuck sighs, leaning back against the couch, “I think we shouldn’t tell Mark, not yet at least.”

“So now you’re making us all culpable in your bullshit,” Renjun groans loudly, rolling his eyes. 

Hyuck gaze shifts from the angry aries to Jaemin, who’s yet to say anything since Hyuck’s big reveal. “You’re cool with this, aren’t you?”

“I mean…” Jaemin cocks his head to the side, “you have wanted to be with her for years-” 

“See, Jaemin gets it!” Hyuck grins, eyes turning to his part time gym buddy next. “And Jeno? You understand where I’m coming from, don’t you?”

“Mark is not going to be happy about this,” Jeno frowns.

“And I wasn’t happy when he started dating my roommate crush,” Hyuck states, “or when he broke up with her unexpectedly.”

“Don’t lie,” Renjun scoffs, “we all know you probably celebrated when they ended things.”

“Only a little,” Hyuck confesses, grinning again. “Okay but for real,” his expression turns serious, “guys, I think I love her.”

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EKK IVE WAITING FOR THIS AND IT DIDNT DISAPPOINT

Young God | L.DH (M)

SYNOPSIS: desperation had this funny way of skewing one’s perception, and since you were, in fact, way past the point of desperation, it wasn’t a surprise that you jumped the gun without even questioning the absurdly cheap rent price of the seemingly perfect apartment unit. What you failed to consider was the reason why it didn't cost you and arm and a legand it soon came in the form of an incubus in your bathroom belting his heart out on a Sunday morning.

(alternatively: in which you were essentially scammed into cohabiting with a ridiculously clingy demon that lives off of sex. It could be worse. At least he staved off from sucking your soul out in exchange of you sucking something else—among other things).

GENRE: supernatural, urban fantasy, college au, slice of life, humor, rom-com, crack treated seriously, fluff, smut (full warnings under the cut! Please read them).

WORD COUNT: 35K

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. incubus!hyuck, afab!human!reader, mild horror elements, mild blood and gore, crude language and jokes, some lore sprinkled here and there, none of these people have brain-to-mouth filters, bickering (as a love language or foreplay. you decide), egregious use of the em dash, cooking as a love language, wet dreams, dry-humping, handjobs, oral sex, face-fucking, masturbation, Jaemin, mild allusions to exhibitionism, mentions of edging, squirting, mc gets a little roughed up by another demon, hyuck kills said demon (as he should). unprotected sex (please practice safe sex unlike these two), creampie, tentacles (LISTEN. it’s not that bad I promise! They’re more like glorified ropes made of smoke if anything, but if you’re uncomfy with the idea but still want to read until the end, the passage starts at “Oh that feels weird” and ends with “You weren’t lying when you said you could take it,”)

NOTE: i fought hyuck-shaped demons writing this fic so please please pleaseeee lemme know what you think! do not let the warnings fool you, this is actually cuter and funnier than it should be despite the sexual undertones lmao 😭 All this came to life from pure self-indulgence and some of the dialogues that startled me awake on most of my nights lol.

PLAYLIST: Young God by Halsey — Eyes Roll by (G)I-DLE — Pretzel (♡) by NCT Dream — Galipette (BIBI Remix) by Lolo Zouaï and BIBI — Sunshine Of Your Love by Cream —Tastes So Good — Sabrina Claudio

“I’m the king of everything and oh my tongue is a weapon. There’s a light in the crack that’s separating your thighs and if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonight.” — Young God by Halsey

I.

The first red flag you should have picked up on was the ridiculously cheap rent price.

Which, given the circumstances, was almost unheard of in the current hellish state of the economy, and being part of the lower income bracket. Safe to say you were this close to ripping your own hair out when you were notified of your rent’s increase in price. You could barely afford it and you sure as hell won't be able to now.

Life simply picked its favorites and it was unfortunate that you weren’t part of the silver-spooned minority playing the life game on ‘very easy’ mode. Thus began a very desperate search for a place. A dorm? Apartment? Bedspace? Literally anything. Hell, you’d even consider coach-surfing! You weren’t picky, and you sure as Hell weren’t in the position to demand even an ounce of luxury anyway.

So long as you had a roof above your head, you’d take anything.

Though it seemed that the level of desperation rolling off of you in waves was enough to take some sort of effect.

You had no clue what exactly you should call it (divine intervention?), but perhaps there was little power from projecting your urgency along with the rest of the piled up negativity onto the world to the point it pitied you; listened to your misery that a few days later, right when you were on the precipice  of calling it quits and leaving your life in the hands of God, a miracle disguised as one of your classmates for an elective brought up a fairly recent vacancy from her apartment complex.

“If it’s anything like the unit Chaewon and I have, I think you’ll like it.” Yunjin reassured, smiling down at you from her perch on the desk. “Plus, it would be nice to have a familiar face around.”

Worrying about whether the place would fit your tastes or not was the last thing on your mind when you were a breath away from filing bankruptcy (could you even afford that?) It had come to a point where you’d be open to anything that all inhibitions and the ever present skepticism you’d usually have hanging around your head were promptly thrown out of the window because:

Huh Yunjin was not only a classmate, but also a friend.

Biases were a thing, so anything Yunjin said was deemed credible on all accounts by you.

You. Were. Desperate. Did you mention that?

And—look, desperation does funny things to your mind. Skewing your perception, for example, or maybe it was a thing exclusive to you because who lets themselves be labeled as ‘colorblind’ (theoretically) after mistaking firetruck red from verdant green?

The answer: you, duh. Though in your defense, promising anyone with a price that affordable would immediately have them fold, never mind the possible consequences that could follow.

Humans were fickle. Humans were simple as they were complex. Temptation came easiest to those who were in a near hopeless state, and you were very human to your core, stepping out of the lecture hall with Yunjin’s landlord’s phone number saved to your list of contacts, feeling heaps lighter than you did this morning.

Statistics showed that it was less likely for women to be colorblind.

It was also said that women were able to identify more colors than men, so it was quite telling that you’ve managed to consistently ignore every single glaring red-flag so far. Might as well be part of the statistics if this keeps up. Theoretically speaking.

(Family history made it impossible for you to have it. Your recognition of colors was no less than perfect. It was just a ‘you’ problem. Not to mention the non-existent survival instinct).

Though, there were some details that really made you think. And by some, you meant your landlord—correction, landlady, as Ms. Hong chided over the phone.

Ms. Hong was a woman well in her mid forties with a taste for anything glamorous. Slender fingers adorned with rings made of gold and wrists chained with the same metal among a few silver glimmering pieces. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary when polite greetings weaved seamlessly into pleasant small-talk, lasting long enough until you brought up the newly available apartment unit. Things took an odd turn then, with Ms. Hong skirting around, hesitant and vague when it came to answering your questions about the apartment.

It was all sorts of strange, now that you thought about it. Unlike Ms. Hong, your previous landlords had the tendency to overcompensate for the lackluster charm of their apartments. Promising to improve whatever that needed to be improved and then downplaying all the current issues that could have been classified as a health violation. All for the sake of milking you dry of your savings.

On that note, you couldn’t exactly tell if Ms. Hong even wanted to rent out the unit or not. You were no stranger to money-hungry landlords who would jump at the opportunity, yet the older woman’s tone was rather gravely when she listed down the possible expenses. Her lack of enthusiasm was becoming a bit too disconcerting, to say the least, that you had to cut her off from her tangent as soon as you felt the agitation creep up, emphasizing how this was a matter of life and death for you.

Begging would have been your last trump card if the landlady didn’t budge, but it seemed that the trembling in your voice finally shook her out of whatever bizarre headspace she was in that the sudden emergence of charisma that could belong to a representative trying to scam you into joining a pyramid scheme was strangely comforting.

That was another thing that flew over your head: the complete 180 in demeanor, completely blinded by Ms. Hong’s eagerness having you view the unit at your earliest convenience. 

Ten AM on Sunday morning.

That was your earliest convenience. Also your day-off and the one of many chances spent rotting away on an equally rotting mattress. It was a way to relax, but if it meant you’d be (hopefully) parting ways with your current shitty apartment and the shitty mattress that came with it, then by all means you could forget pretending to not exist for a few hours.

Though you couldn’t say you were optimistic. With your renting history, optimism had no room in your life when all you were left with was disappointment from the barely decent rooms you’ve been in and for sure, Ms. Hong would do just the same. It really wouldn’t be the first time. Certainly wouldn’t be the last either. 

By some unexplained miracle, the outcome was quite the contrary, actually, and for the first time in your adult life, you were starting to see the light at the end of the longest tunnel you have ever been in.

Citrus and vanilla.

That particular scent was what greeted you first as you stepped into the unit which was a thousand times better than what horrors you were used to and you thought it fit the earthy palette of cream, beige and green. The most surprising thing was that the unit looked to be fully furnished right from the kitchen to the bedroom and lord—the mattress was actually so comfortable that it took a lot of your self-control and the reminder of your (future) landlady waiting to not actually fall asleep.

But it wouldn’t hurt to indulge yourself a little, now would it?

Rolling over, you press your face into the linen sheets, humming in delight at the pleasant waft of freshly dried laundry. It smelt like home, It felt like home and you would definitely regret passing up the opportunity of moving here.

Years of hopping from one place to another, you never had the chance to feel at home. Not when your mind was a permanent whirlwind of worries that just didn’t seem to end no matter how much you tried to deal with them. It hasn’t entirely stopped, but you liked to think you were getting better at keeping them at bay.

One thing that caught your interest was that the sweet and tangy scent was particularly strong here. It wasn’t unpleasant, but a little overwhelming, wrinkling your nose at the intensity of vanilla. The came the strong urge to look to your right and there you saw a candle in a glass jar burning away on the end table

Huh, you never noticed that on your way in.

Ms. Hong sure knew how to give a warm welcome, a scented candle of all things. Although you weren’t exactly a fan of the smokey smell that would later stick to your hair and clothes, you appreciated the small gesture nonetheless. And sweet as it was, you were more cautious than to prolong your gratitude.

Risking the possibility of burning the entire unit before you could even sign the lease was the last thing you wanted and without thinking, you blew the flame out.

There was no time to doubt. This was—”everything I’ve been looking for.”

Ms. Hong blinked as you emerged from the inside.

“I’ll take it, but are you serious about the price? It’s fully furnished. Decorated beautifully too.”

All the cool nonchalance the woman displayed prior disappeared in an instant, standing tall and stiff as you watched her open and close her mouth before settling on a croaky, “come again?”

The reaction was strange, but you answered anyway. “It’s fully furnished,” you repeated. “Wouldn’t that, like, increase my rent?”

“What do you—what does it look like in there?”

“Something close to what you’d see on Architectural Digest,” you joked then went into detail about how everything seemed to fit the Pinterest board you’ve made—affectionately named ‘home <3’—and kept on updating since freshman year. It was a little eerie, now that you think about it. How the unit was catered specifically to your tastes.

It was comfortable and cozy. Cozy in a way that screamed slow Sundays of melting your brain with soap operas and endless looping of your daily music playlist to your heart's content. Comfortable in a sense where you wouldn’t mind being cooped up in here for hours on end.

Like you’ve said, it was no doubt everything you wanted in a home.

Though a part of you was a little rattled by how spooked Ms. Hong appeared. A mass of emotions crossed her face as you talked until her expression flattened into something unreadable, remaining tense with her posture despite the smile pulling at the corners of her full mouth.

“Are you okay, Ms. Hong?” You asked anyway. You figured it would give you brownie points, showing a little bit of concern. There could be some advantages to being the favorite tenant.

“Yes, yes!” She waved you off. “Nothing to worry about. I was just a little nervous that you wouldn’t like the place. Clearly, I thought wrong.” Ms. Hong laughed, maybe a little forced, but your spirits were too high for you to overthink it. 

“Honestly? I wasn’t expecting much, but I love it! I would move in today if I could, but I still have to pack.” Not that you had much to begin with when the apartment had what you needed. Furniture wise, but you still had your personal belongings and it was close to sunset too.

Ms. Hong nodded solemnly, tilting her head appearing thoughtful. “Good… good. And you’re absolutely certain that you want to move in?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

Going the poetic route seemed to be enough for Ms. Hong, wasting no time guiding you into her office to take care of the paperwork. The price remained the same, even with your insistence of increasing it for the sake of fairness, but  your landlady (for real this time!) wasn’t having it and silently handed over the keys with a keychain where ‘66’ was inscribed on the golden plate, matching what was drilled into the paneled door.

You still couldn’t believe it, really. That you’ve managed to score a charming place within your price range and if the mixture of happiness and relief wasn’t already obvious enough from your cheek-aching smile alone, Ms. Hong didn’t dare comment on it, other than the amused huff she let out, watching you shake in anticipation.

Excitement was a rare emotion to feel these days, not when the weight of college and your part-time job rested on your shoulders, and maybe it was that very reason why the said excitement easily bled into the questions your landlady had the patience to answer. You’ve never felt this light in a long time and something about the twinkle in Ms. Hong’s eyes said that she understood just as much.

However, the sentiment soon faded as quick as it came; you would have missed it if it weren’t for Ms. Hong calling out your name.

“Do me a favor, would you, honey?”

“Sure,” You looked over your shoulder, gaze inquisitive as the door handle twisted. The woman’s face was drawn into something serious, hands folded properly on her desk. “What is it?”

“Be careful.”

You would have laughed if it weren’t for the intensity in her eyes, and with how she spoke, it left no openings for a light joke. Two words that should have been taken at face value felt like there was more to it. You just didn’t know what.

Perhaps it was a customary thing. A reminder to each of her tenants to not cause trouble for her or anyone? Yeah, that could be it.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Third time was definitely not the charm because how could you miss another clear warning? Ms. Hong’s nails were red too for fuck’s sake! That should have counted for something!

In your defense, with how well the first week was in apartment 66, no one could blame the carefree attitude now that you had a place that was safe and didn’t check every health violation by the book. Inviting friends over was easier, now that you didn’t have to feel sorry for yourself and your visitors for subjecting them to lounge in a barely habitable space.

Yunjin seemed very proud of herself, being the very reason why you were even here in the first place and she truly deserved the extra volume of wine poured into her glass, much to Chaewon’s chagrin. She quickly perked up when you offered her a variety of sweet treats you got on sale, thanking you with a smile just as sweet.

It felt liberating to come home to a place that exuded the warmth you needed right after a long, grueling day of academics and your shift at the hotpot restaurant a few blocks away from campus.

Other than your bed, the couch was another place where you’d occasionally try your very hardest to melt into and not think about your existence. If you wanted to be more productive, the small balcony you transformed into a mini nursery for herbs and smaller fruits and vegetables was there to keep you busy. The little gardening hobby went hand-in-hand with the nice kitchenette. You finally had enough space to dance around amidst the prepping and cooking you had to do.

You were, quite literally, living the life.

Life has never tasted so sweet and it took only a week at most to make it look like you had your life together; as if you were one of those people on Tiktok who seemingly had their lives figured out based on their minute-long vlogs.

However, there was clearly a time limit to your peace, it being violently ripped away from you as the second week came around. Then did you start experiencing… things.

Strange things, to be exact and it took a lot to scare you.

There were a multitude of things to be frightened of for sure, but you were someone who’d been able to grow some resistance to them as you got older; thought that it’d be a waste to grow wary of the things that would normally creep people out, living alone. It wasn’t in your nature. Not when you miraculously survived being on your own so far, so what was left for you to be scared of?

That was what past-you would have said but for some reason, the world had this unwavering fixation on going against whatever you stood for because this current situation was an entirely different ballpark. 

And not finding any scientific explanation to back up the sudden disturbance in apartment 66 was what scared you. 

Sure, the smart thing was to raise it as a concern to your landlady, but when it came to weighing your options, you didn’t think the gripes and concerns for the place would be serious enough to be a problem for Ms. Hong to solve. Especially when it wasn’t exactly a maintenance issue.

Let’s be real here, do you think Ms. Hong would be able to do something about the things that go bump in the night? No. You wouldn’t think so. Unless she was able to shapeshift into a cat, going after the rat behind all the thudding, creaking and annoying scratching that woke you up in the middle of the night.

(You realized how utterly insane that train of thought sounded, so that was immediately scratched off. Shapeshifting? Really? That’s one way of letting someone assume you were high on something).

Normally, these hiccups were menial enough to ignore, rolling over to the cooler side of bed and quickly knocking out. Being a nightly problem? It’s a miracle you hadn’t torn down the dry walls yourself to look for the rats and deal with them. Only, you didn’t think the little critters were capable of producing such loud footsteps.

And that wasn’t even the last of it.

Things disappearing and then reappearing at the weirdest of places—house keys in the toilet sink, phone in the microwave and, mortifyingly enough, panties in the cupboards, to which has happened on multiple occasions, leaving you more irritated than scared, actually.

(There were some times where it had been useful though. Like when you were running late to first period and, lo and behold, your house keys and phone were waiting for you on the little nook just beside the door. Or having a fresh pair of socks laid out innocently next to your sneakers. Little things for your convenience for sure that it warranted a hesitantly muttered ‘thank you’ to the air despite being freaked out).

On the same note as ‘things going bump and scratch in the night’, hearing voices became a regular thing, too. There should be a joke written in there somewhere. How it was just your inner monologue increasing volume each night from the stress, but the disembodied voice said otherwise and you knew damn well your daily monologue did not comprise creative threats to your life and soul.

Hearing voices meant that there was, possibly, something else festering in the four walls of your home.

You didn’t feel as alone anymore, and that wasn’t you being all sappy or poetic. You could actually sense that there was an unspecified presence lurking in the shadows of apartment 66, like you were being watched. You could’ve sworn you’ve seen movement from your peripheral too, but for once, from what little remnants of survival instinct you had, you refused to fuck around and find out.

Those were damning signs that told you to leave. Anyone in their right mind would simply book it the soonest they could. And perhaps you had a few loose screws up there, because no one considered normal would manage through all the disturbances, and hell if you were the one moving out. You fell in love with the place and the hauntings won’t ever change that.

Hauntings. God. You’ve truly lost it. What’s next, a 2023 remake of Casper The Friendly (?) Ghost? Could be. You were still very much alive and that could count as a ‘friendly’ gesture, ignoring the piling grievances.

But then you started having these dreams and you could guarantee that nothing was remotely friendly about what your brain routinely conjured during your slumber: the same dream over and over again.

Same bedroom setting. Same faceless man—seemingly made out of shadows—hovering over you, his weight keeping you from doing anything but squirm each time he leaned in close, whispering—hissing filthy promises as threats of eating you alive after swallowing your soul soon to be damned in Hell with each bite of his words.

And tonight wasn’t any different.

“Not resisting anymore, are you?”

Wait.

That’s new. Not the whole talking thing because the one thing that remained consistent was that this… entity couldn’t for the life of him shut the fuck up, nor could you smother him into silence yourself, minding the Herculean strength he exhibited in having you pinned down.

No, but his voice had character, now that the disembodied filter he had on the majority of the time was absent, leaving you to bask in the high, airy-smooth voice that would have been considered sweet if it weren’t for the fact that its owner showed otherwise through his actions.

How can I when I can’t fucking move? Was what you wanted to say, but it came out as a strangled mess of noises.

It’s always been a gamble. Your dreams, that is and you could never tell which bodily function you could lose in them. Tonight, you were certain that you could neither talk nor move, much to the figure’s absolute delight and this whole thing kind of painted him as your designated sleep paralysis demon.

The demon (maybe) nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply. “You smell delicious.” You could feel him shudder in anticipation, breath hot against your skin from the shaky exhale as he pulled back to stare you down. Or at least you think he did. You couldn’t tell. Other than the twin ruby red glow from where his eyes would have been, his entirety was bathed in absolute darkness.

“Interesting little thing, you are,” he crooned, “usually, any other human would be out the door the moment they could sense me. They’re so easy to scare, humans.” An icy chill ran down your spine at the laugh he let out. Deceptively soft and breathy if you weren’t reminded of your position—this thing straight out of nightmares being bracketed by your thighs. This was all so fucked.

Something akin to a purr rumbled from within him, pleased at the fact that you couldn’t do anything but lay there, unmoving. “You, on the other hand, stayed. Longer than what I had initially expected and lucky for you, I’m beginning to like having you around.”

Cool. So he liked you. Cool. Great. Amazing even.

What the fuck did that even mean?

Were you supposed to be relieved by that? Because it was the last thing you should be feeling in this compromising position. Which then begged the question: did it mean you get to live to see another day? You’d hope so because dying in your dream and inevitably IRL would fucking suck. You haven’t even stayed for that long and your death would be such a waste of money, really.

There it was again. Citrus and vanilla.

Now that you thought about it, this particular aroma was always present. Muted on some days, like a barely there trace of day-old perfume on clothes, and not so pleasant on others, including tonight—strong as this demon (surely) leaned further into your space. Hips pushed down, down, down with purpose as the sickeningly sweet scent increased in intensity, like he was using it to break your resolve, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. 

His determination didn’t seem to wane in the slightest from your display of stubbornness, only spurring him on further as his large, warm palms settled on your waist, giving an appreciative squeeze. As if fascinated by how solid you felt in his grip. You, however, were absolutely terrified of how solid he was. How this felt so real that you couldn’t stand being underneath the blood-red glare of his eyes.

The demon let out a huff of amusement the moment you screwed your eyes shut.

All of this was just a dream. A sick twisted dream—a nightmare. Soon as you get yourself to wake up, he’ll be gone. You’ll be free.

“Is it?” He tittered, “a dream? I don’t know, this feels all too real to me, human. Surely you can feel this?” You gasped. Shit. He had claws, digging into the soft skin of your waist. Apply more pressure and you were sure he’d end up breaking through the flesh and leave you bleeding to your very death.

He leaned in closer. Not like he was already too close for comfort before. “Feel me?”

Oh, fuck.

It’s like a sick fucking joke, really. The fact that the time where you truly had a grasp on your vocal chords, you let out the first sound of the night: a moan—followed by a continuous string of them prompted by the thick and hot something pressing incessantly against your crotch with each roll of his hips.

“There we go,” he drawled, lips brushing against the little space underneath the hinge of your jaw, your pulse at its strongest. “You were easier to play with in all your other dreams before, but it’s not like I don’t enjoy a bit of a challenge from a stubborn little thing like you. Let’s see what other sounds you can make, yes?”

He was dead set on pulling them out of you, too, settling on a rhythm that would let his length—straining against what you could assume was skin-tight boxer briefs—drag over your clit covered by thin cotton panties. He made use of his hands too; leaving warm trails of his touch along your skin, like he was leaving traces of himself, branding you his.

It was maddening, to say the least. That even in your dreams, you were still able to feel the rush of pleasure in its purest form thrumming underneath your skin just begging to be let out.

And if that wasn’t enough to wind you up, the same pair of hands curiously traced the bottom hem of your camisole before pushing it up, up, up and exposing your chest to your audience of one. He lets out this satisfied sound, a groan almost and tapering off into gentle cooing; gentle as his hands were in fondling your tits.

If you could move, then the smack he would have gotten from you was well deserved. Men were so easy. Show them your boobs and it’s pretty much all they care about until you stray their attention elsewhere. His dutifully remained on your heaving chest, however, and if you could see, you were sure he would be licking his lips, satisfied with himself as he bent his head.

Holy shit. You were going to die. You were going to be eaten, and then die.

The cry you let out was enough proof that you finally finally had gotten control of your voice; crying out from the sensation of impossibly sharp rows of teeth nibbling on your right nipple, already sensitive from the demon’s tongue laving around the bud. Taking it entirely in between unimaginably soft lips and suckling harshly that your body didn’t know whether to bow against the bed so he could take in more, or pull away from all of this being too much for your senses to bear.

“Aren’t you so cute?” He cooed the moment he unlatched from your other tit, subjecting it to the same treatment and his cock still rutting slowly but firmly against your clothed slit, earning him a drawn out whine. There’s a hand wrapped around your throat now, and you gasped at the pinpricks his claws left. “You make the sweetest of sounds, darling girl.” He said this as leaned in so close that his lips brushed against yours with every syllable.

“I can’t wait ‘til your soul is mine.” and there was no mistaking it; the drag of sharp teeth just below your jaw raised goosebumps across your skin.

Panic immediately swelled in your chest just as you regained full control of your body, smacking his hands away for your fingers to tangle into his hair and push him as far as your arm would let you, heart beating so wildly that it’s a miracle it hadn’t cracked your rib cage. Oh well, small miracles and whatnot.

It looked like he wasn’t at all expecting you to fight back. You thought so too, with his overpowering scent almost lulling you into compliance and, again, the unimaginable strength he had keeping you in place. Catching him off-guard was the smartest thing you’ve done so far into halting the all-consuming dreams—nightmares that all he did was stay still and it’s exactly what you needed.

“Get out!”

You woke up with a sharp intake of breath.

Your hand was still up in the air, fist clenched and arguably at the same height where it was originally resting stiffly on top of the entity’s head. Knees the same as they were before; bent and parted wide enough to accommodate his figure, and let’s not forget your ‘tits out’ situation because your tits, were in fact, still out. How vivid was that dream exactly?

The entirety of your room didn’t look out of place, minus the duvet, thankfully. Probably got kicked down from how you struggled in the nightmare. It was a rather chilly night—the slow beginnings of autumn, so you pulled it back up (right after you fixed your camisole) and settled comfortably underneath the softness of the covers for the second time of the night.

Your eyes slipped close.

“Oh? Going back to sleep already? How rude!”

Your eyes immediately snapped open.

What the fuck.

Nothing could have prepared you from finding a fully grown man sat like a fucking gargoyle at the foot of your bed. Knees bent with his hands right in between them, clutching the cotton tightly in between his fingers, judging by how his grip pulled onto your duvet. You pulled on it too, not willing to expose yourself at this time, and just because you were still petty enough in your sleepy state. You were cold, dammit.

No words were exchanged. No one moved either, but you did spend a long time just sizing each other up as if daring the other to do something. It was still too dark for you to make out his features, the only source of light being the full moon at its brightest which wasn’t much of help.

The thing tilted his head. “Hi!”

You were too tired for this. “I’m going back to sleep.”

“No, wait!” It took everything to not scream bloody murder when he hastily crawled towards the space beside you and sat on his calves, “I’m a demon.”

What? Like that made any difference.

“This is a dream.” It’s got to be because there was no way the man in your dreams was able to materialize right in front of you, claiming he was one of Hell’s spawn. He sounded like him, hell, he smelt like him, but the sheer ridiculousness of the turn of events made it a little hard for you to believe that this isn’t just a tamer, sleep-induced hallucination.

“No it’s not!”

You stared at him with narrowed eyes. Is it just you, or did he sound… whiny? Anyway, “yes, it is.” You groped around before grasping onto your stuffed bear’s limbs. If he doesn’t shut up right now then you’ll do it yourself.

Again, too dark to see his face, but you can just tell he was scowling. “Says who?”

“Me. Goodbye!” And you smacked him in the face with the stuffed toy so hard that he ended up toppling off of your bed with startled yelp. Your eyes slipped close again, pleased.

What a weird fucking dream.

II.

There was someone in your home.

In the bathroom, to be specific.

The trip to the morning farmer’s market didn’t even take that long. Thirty minutes at most to get what you needed for a hearty meal, and yet it was enough for someone to break in, apparently (in broad daylight too! Do people have no shame?) So much for living in one of the safest parts of the city. The advertisements were total bullshit.

Though, you actually weren’t sure if this was better. That it was something or someone tangible disrupting the peace and not the occasional, domineering presence you’ve grown used to. You had to admit, it was kind of funny that hogging the shower was next on their agenda after trespassing. Usually, it was followed by either burglary or first degree murder, but hey, who were you to judge?

It didn’t look like they’ll be out any time soon. What with the passionate rendition of Michael Jackson’s (may his soul rest in peace) ‘Rock With You’—complete with adlibs and all—you’d be lucky if they chose to stay in there and raise your water bill up to immeasurable heights.

At least a bunch of knives stuck to a magnetic rack was within reach if all goes to shit, but you still hoped that you wouldn’t have to draw blood first.

Leaving the stew to boil, you plopped onto the couch with as much grace as a newborn giraffe, sitting in a way where you directly faced the bathroom in case of the possible brawl you might push yourself into due to your lack of survival instincts, apparently.

Yet even with the forewarning, you weren’t exactly prepared to face who or what was on the other side of the bathroom door.

Your breath hitched at the sound of the door unlocking, followed by the click of the light switch and, for some reason, you had your gaze set resolutely at the bottom half of the door. The door opened and a tan leg popped out, and then another and—Jesus, how long do these legs go? Seriously, it should be illegal to have legs as long as that, having felt as if your eyes scanned like… miles upon miles of tan—

Right. This was an intruder in your home.

A man to be exact, and he had the gall to mirror your own shell-shocked face as if you were the one who broke in.

Though, you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous. Inhumanly so as you took a closer look at his face. Sun-kissed all over as if the big ball of fire in the sky decided it wanted a human counterpart. Waves of dark hair fell just shy above his waterline and framing a pair of wide, darkened amber eyes (is that eyeliner?) burning with as much curiosity you had amidst your fight or flight response kicking in. He kind of fit the ‘tall, dark and mysterious’ archetype that BookTok lovers—er, loved, but there was very little mystery to be intrigued by. Not when his thoughts, feelings and intentions bled so opaquely on his face.

Amusement tilted every angle of his features, namely his sleepy eyes and heart-shaped lips. If you possessed half a brain, you would have thought he was harmless. Yet the hair-raising grin that broke out on his face told you otherwise, making you bristle.

“Now where’d you run off to this early in the morning?”

You gritted your teeth, feeling a vein pulse on your temple. That voice.

Pretty privilege could be addressed next time because at this very second, you weren’t feeling privileged being graced by the so-called prettiness, but threatened to even fully appreciate what he’s got going for him. Physically wise.

Without thinking, your hand shot out to grab the closest thing to you, an empty vase, and hurled it with all you’ve got, aiming straight for the intruder’s face who didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. It was like watching everything in slow motion, how the decorative piece took its sweet time to smack his face and hopefully break his nose (best case scenario).

This was the worst case scenario, with the vase pausing in mid-air as if time just decided to stop being a thing, all in this demon’s favor.

You were actually going insane. That was the only explanation because no law of physics could explain the current state of the decorative vase—it’s still in the fucking air. Holy shit—nor did you think telekinesis could extend beyond the old, generic trick of bending spoons with your mind.

“Hey,” As if you weren’t terrified enough, the stranger peeked from one of the vase’s sides with a disapproving pout. You scooted further away until your back hit the arm rest. “I picked this out for you, y’know? Thought you’d like it.” With a lazy flick of his wrist the vase ended up floating all the way into the kitchen, much to your horror, to sit on top of the refrigerator.

“Maybe we shouldn’t throw things next time?”

Your eyes flickered towards him, dumbfounded.

“You… last night,” There really was no mistaking it. The voice already told you enough. It was all too distinct; the arrogance, the grating inflection that screamed he solely existed to get on your nerves, and it was working. “In my dream. That was you?”

“Wasn’t just last night, little human. I’ve been in all of your dreams since you moved here.” He shrugged, leaning laxly against the door frame with his arms crossed. “You were way nicer in them. Pliant,” he had two fingers up to prove whatever point he was making. “didn’t throw things at me,” and there goes the third finger.

Smoke was practically coming out of your ears as you sat up straighter, tense. “Oh, I’m sorry!” One of your hands flew to your chest, tone high and mocking. “I didn’t know I had to show proper etiquette to a fucking trespasser!” You scrambled for your phone. “Now, please leave or I will call the police—”

It happened all too fast. Too fast for your human brain to comprehend because just a second ago, you were really serious about involving the police in this. Now, you were flat on your back with the wind knocked right out of you and a lap full of the man plaguing most of your nights. The atmosphere felt heavier, now that the kittenish air surrounding him was gone and the very corner of his lips tilted down into a frown as he plucked your phone out of your hand.

“First thing’s first, no police. You won’t get rid of me that way. Second, this is my”— he pointed to himself —“home. My apartment. I was just nice enough to let you stay for how long you liked.”

“I paid for this unit you—you demon!” You didn’t even try to be subtle with the eye-rolling. Of course he would preen at the title. “If anything, it’s my apartment!”

“Okay? I tied a piece of me down to this place. My sigil is somewhere around here to prove it—meaning, I have higher authority.”

A sigil. Of course. This is your life now. Possibly sharing a space with a fucking demon of all things. Exciting, but not exciting enough to stave off your hunger and you were starting to get antsy. You were just arguing for the sake of arguing to blow off some steam and to get in the last word.

“I signed a lease. The lease has my name on it.” you said as if that was on par with whatever he was talking about (probably not).

“Technically, I signed away a part of my life, so.”

Fuck. Fine. He got you there.

“Are you always going to do this?” You resigned, wriggling underneath his weight. “You’re kinda heavy.”

“I mean, if it works, right?” The demon giggled, tilting his head with a coy smile as he put more weight onto your thighs, one hand falling behind to rest on your knee. “It’s not like you complained before.”

“Technically,” (“I do not fucking sound like that.”) “those were dreams—dreams, so they don’t count.”

Which meant that you had full control of your body out of the dreamscape, proven by the indignant yell the demon let out as he was unceremoniously pushed to the ground for the second time within the twenty-four hour time frame. It wasn’t enough to make up for the numerous times he had you under him, but for now, you were even.

“They sure do!” he exclaimed from where you left him still sprawled on the floor.

“Nope. This conversation is over.”

The stew was just about done, soup reduced to the right amount as you switched off the stove and range hood, bathing your apartment in still quietness besides the bustling from outside. The soft padding of feet came in quick succession until warmth hovered just mere centimeters behind you.

Turning your head, the demon was there, his chin just shy of resting onto the dip of your shoulder as he peered curiously at the steaming pot.

“Is that… kimchi jjigae?” he wondered, taking a generous whiff and appearing just as hungry as you felt. “It is kimchi jjigae.”

You snickered, all animosity fading into faint amusement, “I take it that you’d like some?” It was such a human reaction that you couldn’t help but smile, reaching for the ladle.

“Please?” he pressed, amber eyes all wide and imploring. “I haven’t had a decent bowl of the stuff in, like, weeks.”

“Well, make yourself useful. Set the table, yeah? And pass me two bowls while you’re at it. You know where they are…” you trailed off, looking at him in silent question. You haven’t asked for his name, or what he would like to be addressed as.

Somehow, the demon was rather quick on the uptake, curling his lips as he pushed off to do what you asked him to.

“Haechan,” he called over his shoulder, grinning as he reached for the cupboard’s handle. “You can call me Haechan.”

So.

There was someone in your home, and he was a demon sitting across from you, digging into his second helping of the kimchi jjigae you initially planned on rationing out for the entire week.

Like an actual living and breathing demon—an incubus. A demon dependant on sex, and from what you’ve heard from one of the girls utterly obsessed with the occult and anything spooky, Incubi and Succubi do, in fact, fuck to survive. A fuck or die slowly situation which earned Haechan a dubious look when he confirmed through a mouthful of pork belly.

(You weren’t too sure if you heard right when the mentioned occult-obsessed classmate later added that the human could literally go insane from the amount of life force they’d lost. Or that some incubi and succubi do it for the purpose of reproducing. Hopefully she was wrong because—well—because).

“Okay,” you let the spoon clatter into your bowl. “Okay.” you repeated in a way to soothe yourself before broaching on the topic, prompted by morbid curiosity because hello, who wouldn’t start questioning the ‘monster’ you were stuck with for an indefinite amount of time? “So! What, you fuck anyone that comes to live here?”

“Mm—one second,” he raised a finger and then swallowed. “This is really good and, well, yes and no?”

You hit him with a pointed look. “It’s either yes or no.”

“Nosy, nosy,” he tutted, heat creeping from your neck and up at the sight of his smirk. “Curious about my body count, aren’t you, sweet thing?”

“Uh,” you said intelligently, brain short-circuiting at the pet-name. “Am I allowed to be?”

Haechan beamed. “‘course! Honestly, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t. Humans are naturally curious, aren’t they? Kinda weird that you’re so calm about this though”

He wasn’t wrong. You were the perfect picture of calm listening to him talk about his origins and any sane person would think Haechan was just talking out of his ass. It was likely due to the fact that you’ve become desensitized to most things and consequently, this was less weird than being offered cocaine right outside of campus.

“I’ve been through worse.” You shrugged and there was something absolutely hilarious about a demon of all beings expressing a mix of concern and confusion when you waved him off. “So what does ‘yes and no’ mean?” You pressed further, curious and maybe a smidge nosy.

Other than the hectic lifestyle you live, things were pretty much boring when it came to experiences outside of your academics and extracurriculars, and your part-time; the latter only holding a modicum of drama that involved teenagers and their own diluted version of pettiness and the occasional entitled ahjummas that were dead-set on making your life miserable than it already was with maintaining an absurdly high GPA to keep your scholarship. Not to mention you were barely scraping by with your savings.

Taking in Haechan and his brazen glory, you might as well live vicariously through him to feel something, right? Like one of those moms who’d force their own kid to live out their dreams. And so you were going to pry as much as he would let you. Haechan was shameless in his own way anyway, proudly so with how he was literally wearing a pair of your sleep shorts that left nothing to the imagination and a zip-up that was definitely his. You didn’t remember having one with horns attached to the hood and you wouldn't wear anything too on the nose if you were him.

(You could have sworn an ass cheek popped out when he was getting a drink from the fridge—Christ, you didn't remember the specific pair being that short—not that you were looking on purpose, no way. His thighs were literally displayed like that).

“Meaning, I don’t limit myself to just my tenant. The risk of them dying is lower that way. They get the time they need to regain the life force they lost while I go out, find a willing soul and… take what I need.” you pointedly ignored the glint of mischief in his eyes by taking a long, generous sip of your water. Haechan snorted at the loud gulp. “We’re not all evil.”

With what your dreams were made of in the past month or so, you highly doubt a singular demon would align their morals with yours. The thought was ridiculous enough on its own and apparently, it translated so well on your face—a grimace that said all that needed to be said—that Haechan had to laugh with crinkled eyes and a scrunched nose, both in which oddly made him look less of the sex-deprived creature etched into your skull, and more human.

“And I don’t really want a human’s death on my conscience. It’s in our nature, there’s no doubting that, but Hell isn’t lawless as you think it is. We have rules to follow. We still have to be kept in line and it just so happens that humans are—ah, how do I say this—precious,” he said with air quotations. “to our supreme overlord. Humans help keep Hell the way it is, and we try not to terrorize them too often.”

“Bit late on that, don’t you think?” you said dryly, being a victim of his terrorizing.

Haechan didn’t even look the least bit remorseful. “What can I say? Frustration is such a cute look on you, darling.” He cooed, a lop-sided grin stretching wide enough that a fang glinted underneath the overhead light as it caught on his lower lip. “I could just eat you up.”

“Please don’t,” You don’t even want to imagine the damage his piercing canines could do. “I’m not really into vore.”

Haechan giggled, resting his cheek onto an open palm. “You’re so funny.”

“Um!” you were beginning to feel like you’ve aged five years from this conversation alone. “That’s all I need to know, really.”

As interesting as it sounded (e.g; the logistics of Hell’s governance, rules Hellian’s had to follow, the social hierarchy and the importance of humans, surprisingly) you thought it was far too early to go into the nitty-gritty details of anything incubi or succubi related. The fact that Hell mirrored human society in a democratic sense with far more nuances than you would expect was all sorts of intriguing, but your curiosity on that could be satiated another time.

You cleared your throat. “Anyways, thank you for answering.”

Haechan hummed in response, going back to demolishing his food.

Right now, you were more inclined to know what this meant for you and your living situation.

Speaking of.

“Is that why the rent is so cheap?” you wondered, eyebrows knitting together. “Because it had you stinking up the place?” The chair creaked as you fell back against it, arms folding above your chest to scrutinize him more.

Haechan gasped, mouth falling open at the jab. “Excuse you! I smell great!” and as if on cue, the scent of tangy sweetness went up right up your nose, making you grimace.

“It’s a little overpowering sometimes,” you confessed, wrinkling your nose and by the strange act of mercy, the smell dialed down and the urge to keel over disappeared completely. “Seriously, is anything normal too much for you? You couldn’t say ‘hi’ to me normally?”

Haechan arched an eyebrow. “What about ‘sex demon’ screams normal to you?” Touché. “And my way was much more fun.” (“it was fun being a nuisance?” you mumbled) “If I was that much of a bother, why didn’t you complain to Ms. Hong?”

You just about mirrored his expression, “what does my landlady have to do about this?”

Like, yeah, Ms. Hong had her responsibilities being a landlady, including the comfort of her tenants and having their best interests at heart, but you didn’t think she’d waste her time with your… special predicament. Ms. Hong probably had better things to worry about anyway, so why did he bring her up? Better yet, why was there familiarity with the way Haechan addressed her?

“She only tried to banish me one too many times,” He huffed as he mirrored your posture. “I got so sick of it that I left my sigil here so she couldn’t do it anymore. She knows better than to tamper with demon magic.”

“Banish—again, what?” Your head was already spinning from the onslaught of information you’ve been fed up until this point. Add Ms. Hong and her involvement in this? It’s a miracle your brain hadn’t imploded on itself.

“You really don’t know?” Haechan cocked his head, regarding you with an unreadable expression for a short moment, just watching you silently process what he said until his face smoothened to show a little bit of sympathy. “Darling, Ms. Hong’s a witch.” He spoke slowly.

“I literally just found out that you, an incubus, exists. How was I supposed to know she was a witch?!”

Though it did make sense. How weird your landlady acted during the first meeting. How cryptic she was in answering every question you had prior to viewing the unit and she essentially begged you to ‘be careful’ before you left. She knew very well that apartment 66 was housing a demon and cut the costs as compensation, leaving you to figure out the fatal flaw of this damned unit.

Haechan shrugged. Okay, so he’s useless. Great.

With a heavy resigned sigh, the table clattered as you clutched your head. “She’s a fucking witch and she scammed me.”

“Can’t be scammed if you’ve gotten what you asked for—an apartment perfect for you.” Unlike yourself, Haechan found this absolutely hilarious. So nice to know that someone found amusement in your suffering. “with an added little something to keep you entertained, yes?”

It was obvious what he was hinting at: himself, looking up just in time to catch him flashing you a cheeky grin as you stiffened at the sensation of his foot brushing up and down your shin—which was a bizarre choice. Bizarre for you, but another Tuesday for him. The clock barely hit ten and here Haechan was, wasting no time shooting his shot so he could have his fun. Just when you thought your life couldn’t get any weirder.

How he knew of your wants, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how he did. With Haechan and his display of freaky ‘demon magic’, you'd assume anything was possible for a Hellian like him, peeking into your head as if it was free real estate. Asshole.

“I don’t remember ever asking for you,” you grumbled, your foot pushing down on Haechan’s to stop him. God, were you seriously playing footsie with a demon?

“Oh? Then that’s too bad,” he said through a pout, mocking. “Unless you find a witch powerful enough to get rid of me and my sigil, I’m staying—and it’s not like you could afford to move again.”

And it’s all kinds of condescending. The way he talked, the way he leered, yet even with all the goading, he was right. There was no way you could afford another down payment for a new place that would surely have a higher jump in price, so you stayed quiet. It was times like this where you wished there was a reset button to life. Why weren’t you born into money?

“Thought so. Glad we’ve come to an agreement.”

The self-satisfied smile he sported was all sorts of grating, but you weren’t going to risk what he could do to you if you threw a bowl to his head.

Demon magic was an entirely different thing still beyond your human brain’s comprehension, and his black-lacquered nails were like a silent threat on their own.

The scratches on your neck and waist serve as a reminder that Haechan had claws that could tear you apart, hidden in plain sight.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t know supernaturals exist,” Haechan said in slight awe and wonder, lightly swinging his feet from his perch on the counter. “I mean, it’s not like we’re hiding what we are. I’m sure someone warned you, or something.”

With the absence of any self-preservation skills, it wasn’t all too surprising that your Grandma took it upon herself to become the overbearing parental figure in your life.

Grandma was the exact person Haechan was referring to. You told him how she’s as superstitious as they could come and she, with her unwavering belief in anything supernatural, had tried to drill the same into your head. You had practically grown up with her making you do things that could hopefully stop you from going face-to-face with one; would even commission one of her equally insane friends for amulets or talismans to keep the malevolent creatures from latching onto you.

Being who you were, hyper-independent from such a young age to present, those little trinkets you were forced to wear ultimately ended up in the trash and Grandma had long given up on that alternative, fed up with you constantly “losing” them.

Too late now, you thought. When there’s Haechan on your kitchen counter, magic singing with each languid flick of his hand that wound around your wrists like how a cat’s tail would—soft, warm and grounding. Which you didn’t think was even possible when all he used it for was to dry the dishes you hand him, putting them away after with a wave of his hand. If Grandma could see you now, the old crone would likely keel over and die of a heart attack.

“Grandma was kind of insane,” you joked. Paranoid too as she would always call you home the moment the sun went down in fear of you being snatched away by some cryptid. “She was against me going to college, harping on how the city was too dangerous for her ‘sweet girl’. But I wanted different things and I never believed in anything she said.”

If you did, that would also mean you would have let her instill into you the fear of something you weren’t even sure existed. Perhaps struggling to keep yourself afloat wouldn’t even be a thing if you just stayed under Grandma’s roof, but that was another can of worms you didn’t really want to open today.

“Grandma was right, though.”

“Yeah,” you huffed, giving him a brief once over. “Clearly.”

Haechan hummed, preening under the attention. “She really is. Seoul’s infested with all sorts of creepy crawlies. Like, vampires make up most of its supernatural population. You’d usually find them in upscale districts like Itaewon or Gangnam. Bougie fuckers, I know.” he said, matching your own disbelief. “But they’re very generous. Can’t say I’ve had any boring times with the leeches either. Their fangs are really sharp. Sharper than mine.”

You didn’t need to put two and two together to get what he was hinting at. By the lecherous, wide smile that showcased Haechan’s own set of upper fangs, a little shorter than would you’d think of a vampire’s, it was enough to tell you that he’s had his fair share of hook-ups with the bloodsuckers.

You wrinkled your nose at the thought. An incubus and a vampire. That’s a very interesting picture to paint. “I thought humans were the default favorite for you demons?”

“I never said they weren’t,” he said. “Doesn’t mean that I can’t try anything else though. Like, Think of it this way—you have a favorite food to eat, right? Eat too much and you’d def grow sick of it. It’s like that.”

“So, in essence, you put off humans to grow… an appetite? To crave for them?”

“Awe, see? You’re catching on,” Haechan cooed. “Though, slight correction, I always crave for humans.”

He was fucking with you. He’s got to be, yet you didn’t think you were in a place to judge his choices. You were painfully human. You didn’t need to do anything drastic for sustenance.

“Whatever gets your fill, I guess. You look like you have it easy, picking out any willing human to be yours for the night anyway.”

You weren’t blind. You were the farthest from dumb too and just looking at Haechan was enough to tell you that he had it easy. That batting his eyelashes once or twice—three times, for good measure—would get anyone keeling over, scrambling to give what he had asked for before Haechan’s deceptive sweetness turned sour. Threatening. Deadly.

With the way he carried himself, how he talked, how his mind worked—all being from the hours-long observation you've mentally conducted—it was just telling how Haechan wasn’t necessarily a stranger to compliments. He was made to be desired. He was made to fulfill such desires, and you could only imagine how often he hears praises for the way he looked. You didn’t didn’t need to add on the number. It's not like he’d die from not hearing anything from you. Haechan could live.

What he could not live without, you were starting to notice, was to have his fun pushing your buttons. The shit-eating grin just told you as much.

“Don’t let that get to your head.”

“Too late! You think I’m sexy,” he sang. “As you should, actually.”

“I hardly think heavy eyeliner is sexy,” you quipped.

Haechan begged to disagree, letting out a wounded noise. “It makes my eyes pop.”

I hope they pop out from your skull. “Sure they do.” 

Here’s the thing: It did make his eyes pop. The unnatural amber shade was already ‘poppy’ as is, backlit by an incandescent glow, a detail the less educated would surely miss from being distracted by everything else. To you, it was the one damning trait that showed Haechan wasn’t at all human and the smokey darkness intensified that.

Haechan’s eyes were beautiful, hauntingly so, but you would rather gouge your own eyes out than to admit it out loud. You planned on wasting away for the entire day and you weren’t letting psychological warfare stop you.

Clearly, the parasite (see: Haechan) had other plans that involved ruining yours. It was like peace was never an option and here you were, given a demon to make sure you’d never find out what it would be like. Being at peace.

(Going back home to Grandma was starting to become a tempting out from this).

Haechan giggled despite the sarcasm, tilting his head to regard you with a look that was almost fond if it wasn’t for the permanent smirk etched onto his face.

“Oh, I’m going to have so much fun living with you, Y/N.”

You narrowed your eyes, “can’t say the same.”

“Don’t be like that,” he murmured as he poked the tip of your nose with his index finger, chuckling when you went cross-eyed. “I’ll make it fun.”

You scoffed, jerking your head away as if he burnt you. “Keep your hands to yourself, demon.”

Haechan only laughed as you made a break for your balcony with the idea of seeking refuge in the mini-garden that had been set up until the burn in your cheeks faded so no embarrassment, not even the slightest bit, would leave a trace.

“Something tells me you’re gonna want them on you soon,” came his reply as soon as you reached the halfway mark towards the sliding glass door. “and you can trust that I won't ever disappoint.”

He’s so fucking sleazy. You had half the mind to whirl around to pick another fight since ‘flight’ was immediately scratched from your choices, kind of like how the initial fear you had dissipated into nothing now that you were aware of what was haunting your apartment. All you felt was annoyance and my God did you want to fight him.

However, before you could even simulate a play-by-play of ‘Giving the Demon In My Home A Piece of My Mind’ in your head (with the hopeful outcome of Haechan reduced to a pathetic heap on the floor. Poetic, you thought, that an all too powerful entity was beaten down in that state), a surprised squeal interrupted your thoughts of murder, thanks to an invisible force hauling and backing you up against a sturdy, warm, smelling suspiciously of fucking tangerines—Haechan.

Boundaries were non-existent to Haechan it looks like, his arms loosely coiled around your shoulders like a snake luring its prey into a false sense of security as soft lips brushed along your cheek; warm and gentle before settling onto your temple.

“All you have to do is ask and I’ll be yours.”

III.

Having Haechan as a live-in something, was just.

Well.

Normally, the term ‘demon’ being attached to someone would already have some eyebrow raising expectations dealing with the macabre set in stone (mostly influenced by the very same supernatural dickrider classmate. You can never be too safe). Like him sacrificing a poor virgin on a pentagram scrawled onto the parquet flooring in haste, surrounded by candles as Haechan spoke in tongues. Or him engaging in orgies—also on a pentagram, but bigger for at least five people to pay their tributes to Satan through nutting one too many times. Which was? Good for them?

Only, the floor was spotless; hastily drawn pentagrams absent so there were definitely no virgins sacrificed (yet). No orgies either since the nights became surprisingly still, post-Haechan.

Having Haechan as a live-in something, was just, for lack of a better term, normal. 

Something close to dull if it weren’t for the constant reminders that this was a wretched so-and-so demon you were learning to deal with. The reality of it all was borderline boring that you hinted he was free to go ape-shit with his demonic duties. Many, many times until one odd look from Haechan, a silent prompt for you to elaborate, had you deciding against it and excused yourself to tend the small garden.

(He followed behind a second later, poking and prodding until you threatened to spray him with holy water).

In some way, Haechan had no problem adapting with your lifestyle. It was almost laughable how seamlessly he had woven himself into your routine built from years of being in survival mode. Like he was the cog that you didn’t even realize was missing from the machine and, dare you say it, Haechan has been a pleasant live-in something—a pleasant roommate.

What you liked most though, was that Haechan could cook.

Man, did the incubus know how to cook.

It was a quirk—perk, really—you had discovered after an offhanded mention of you routinely skipping breakfast to maximize time and efficiency (read: you were shit at taking care of yourself).

(“Hi,” you called out as you burst from your bedroom in a rush. “Bye. I gotta go.”

Haechan, who had been standing in front of a stove wearing a Pompompurin apron, turned his neck so fast that a crick was heard. “Wait, what?” His distress went pretty much ignored as you pulled on the sneakers you thrifted two weeks ago. “You haven’t eaten breakfast yet!”

Oh, you knew that. Mourned it really, but— “No time. I’ll take a slice of toast though,” you said just as the toaster went off.

The incubus shook his head. “No, you’re getting an egg sandwich. An Omelet sandwich. More filling than fucking toast.” Haechan scoffed and behind him, the two golden brown slices of toast floated as the spatula flipped a generous amount of the vegetable omelet onto one of them. 

Yeah, that was something you were still getting used to. Magic. 

“How’d you take your coffee?”

“Two sugars and one creamer. Both teaspoons.”

“Finally, a normal coffee order,” he sighed, appearing very relieved as he snapped his fingers to conjure a silver thermos before you could even question the weird reaction. “Go on,” Haechan encouraged, gesturing for you to grab it just as your sandwich hovered next to the thermos.

“Thank you..?”)

… and lunch.

(“Make sure to eat lunch, though.”

“Can’t either,” you sighed, stuffing the thermos into your backpack’s side pocket. “Club duties, tutoring sessions—” you ticked two of your fingers up “—plus, I’m on a tight budget until my next pay. My aunt can only sustain me enough.” That, and you’d rather not ask for help even if she insisted. Auntie meant well. You knew that, but she had her own family to take care of and you didn’t want to hear any of her useless husband’s unsolicited advice. Like, fuck that guy. Seriously.

“... dinner?” Haechan tried, sounding almost hopeful, only to balk at the thoughtful look you get while unwrapping your sandwich. You’ve got to be shitting me. “Damn, you live like this?”

Thoughtful turned annoyed which—yeah, Haechan thought he deserved that. “Not everyone has their parents paying for everything. Some of us do have to work.” You took a rough bite from the sandwich, muffling your next slew of words, “don’t you already know this? You have been watching me ever since I moved here.”

He understood anyway. “Not all the time,” he clicked his tongue, switching off the stove and range hood with a flick of his wrist. “I have a life outside being an incubus, y’know.”

“And what do you do in your spare time?”

He smiled something sinister. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”)

The bar was in Hell, apparently, because all it took for you to soften up was to get Haechan feeding you his food. Cooking was the last thing you’d expect from a demon and wasn’t salt considered the Kryptonite to demons and anything made up of evil and malice and shit?

(“Oh, most of us evolved past that. Hell, even Lord Satan’s immune to it. Some of the Hellians are deathly allergic though.” Deathly allergic. How fitting.

“So salt just picks out the weakest link?”

He laughed softly, nodding. “Survival of the fittest.”)

Whatever. You had no room to question Hell and its people’s lore when you were eating like a king, ironically being fed by one of Hell’s people.

Besides, food was one less thing to worry about. An equivalent to luxury; being sent to college with a full, Sanrio themed lunch box that could feed at least three people (see: YangYang. A blockmate you’ve recently gotten closer to whom you’ had caught occasionally staring hungrily at your lunch) and more often than not, you’ve been coming home to a set table and a man in a cutesy apron. You were starting to sense a pattern here.

“Just to be clear,” you began. “you’re not fattening me up just to eat me, right?”

“I thought you weren’t into vore?”

“Please be serious.”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” Haechan peeked over his shoulder, snorting. “If that were the case, I would have swallowed you whole that very Sunday morning.” The My Melody apron—pink and frilly all over—surely didn’t help his case.

It was like being held at gun-point by a bear; nerve-wracking, yes and you haven’t forgotten for a second that Haechan had the upper hand for simply being not of the mortal plane. Yet it was oddly endearing, now that you took notice of the gray crewneck that definitely belonged to your wardrobe, cinched around a lithe waist.

It still did make you think though. “So there’s no ulterior motive?”

Haechan whirled around to face you with a gasp, eyes widened in feigned innocence with a hand on his chest. “You don’t believe that I’m cooking from the goodness of my heart?”

You arched an eyebrow.

The demon sighed, lips forming into a slight pout. “Fine. Maybe this is more for my benefit than yours.”

“Haechan.”

Haechan raised both of his hands in what you think was placating. “You’re as good as useless when your life force quality sucks from your shitty eating habits. I’m doing myself a favor,” He shrugged. “If you’re eating good, then I’m eating good—that sort of thing.”

Okay, so maybe you still wanted to punch him in the head.

“Wow,” you said dryly, resisting the urge to get up and strangle him. “Way to make a girl feel special.”

There was a coy smile playing on his lips. “If it makes you feel better, you can just treat me as something that warms your bed,” the incubus brought his attention back to what he was doing previously, deciding against magic, weirdly enough. “In more ways than one. I don’t mind.”

The chair screeched along the floor as you stood up. “I’m gonna be late,” you sputtered, face hot to the touch and scrambling to escape.

Life was so much easier when you weren’t reminded of the possibility of Haechan running to you for his… sex thing. Actually, scratch that, life was so much easier when you hadn’t been made aware of him because there were times where you wondered when that would be. Multiple times. It wasn’t ever brought up; not by you, not by Haechan as he had been somewhat cordial, no mentions of anything related to his survival. At least directly.

In some way, this was different. It’s not often you’d listen to him blatantly offering himself for a test drive, and yes you do run away before Haechan could expound on it every time, yet something curls deep within your gut when you could feel curious eyes boring into your back as you ran off.

Haechan and his propensity for testing the lines was bound to get him smacked upside the head one of these days, but today wasn’t the day. He was smart enough on not exactly breaching the boundaries set, backing up before you could even get creative with damning him all to Hell.

“Here.”

You jerked your head up as you tied the laces of your sneakers and found another variation of a lunch bag dangling right in front of you.

“Thanks,” you said as you stood to your full height, still flustered and avoiding all eye-contact as necessary. “I’ll make sure to eat all of it.”

Haechan only hummed as you took your lunch from him, offering nothing else.

“You know, I’ve always wondered who makes your lunches,” YangYang started, sidling up next to you just as your phone pinged. “They’re all so… detailed. Is it your mom?” 

“Ever thought that maybe I made them myself?”

haechan 👹: hi you: what

Telling YangYang outright that your ‘roommate’ went through all the trouble didn’t sound like a good idea when Yunjin was within earshot. Apartment 66 was a one-bedroom unit and she knew very well that you lived alone, her living just right below you with Chaewon, too. Mentioning the roommate would just raise all sorts of questions that could paint you as mentally unstable if you told her about Haechan and his fucking sigil (that you still haven’t found!) that had gotten you in this situation. You felt mentally unstable just thinking about it.

haechan 👹: i miss you :( you: ?? you: what’s wrong with u

Not to mention your mom was as good as dead to you.

“Okay, fair. I don’t think your mom would prepare something so phallic either, lol.” You’d never have thought hearing ‘phallic’ and ‘lol’ spoken out loud in the same sentence would give you this much of a start, immediately looking up from your phone to catch him already holding your opened bento box with one hand, chopsticks at the ready to poke and prod in the other. “This looks like a dick—look, cherry tomatoes as the balls—”

“Stop doing that,” you hissed, snatching your lunch from him, only to put it in the middle of you two so you wouldn’t have to see him sulk. “No one else is gonna steal my lunch from you.”

you: srsly you’ve been so weird lately haechan 👹: hungry ʕ>Ⱉ<‧:ʔ you: ? eat something then lol

“So the dick wasn’t code for a quick fuck in the toilet stalls?” He teased, biting down onto the tips of his chopsticks with a sharp grin. “I’d be down.”

If looks could kill, YangYang’s guts would be splattered everywhere on the table.

“Absolutely not.”

You didn’t feel the least bit sorry when YangYang choked on the egg roll you shoved into his mouth.

With pleasantries came oddities and Haechan was never short on the latter.

It’s like this: It has already been established that Haechan was an incubus. A subclass of demons that made up a quarter of Hell’s population and his origins was also proven by the unrestricted use of his magic at home, yet he still liked to show off that he was exactly that.

There were times where you would catch him hovering an inch or two—sometimes higher—from the ground which you thought was rather unnecessary. Again, the blatant usage of magic for anything menial (e.g: opening cupboards, switching lights, turning on the TV that somehow materialized from nowhere when the remote was right next to him) and you found out the hard way that other than the claws, he also had horns and a tail.

Let’s just say Haechan had to stop you from calling 112 at three in the morning. Again.

(No. He didn’t have to get on top of you this time).

Still, having him around had been, more or less, pleasant. Except when he was stewing away on the couch, which also doubled as his bed, in this peculiar form.

From how often it happened, it became a little guessing game with yourself whether you would come home to Haechan in the form you were acclimated to seeing everyday: human and rather unassuming when his beautiful face did all the talking, or the form where he was completely embraced by his own darkness.

Literally.

Like right now and you had to swallow back a scream from how eerie this thing—Haechan came off, sitting on the couch with the inky black haze swirling around him. It rose and fell like tendrils made out of smoke, curling in the air and reaching out for nothing in particular. You’ve never felt so creeped out as you did now. For a moment, you expected that one of the ghostly limbs would shoot out and grab you.

“Haechan?” you called as you closed the door with your foot. The void™ looked over, his blood-red gaze making you flinch. Christ, that always freaked you out, but you smiled anyway  to appease him, if not a bit crooked and a smidge wary. “Are you okay? What’s with all… this?”

At that, the smoke stilled before getting sucked into his body, revealing Haechan and all his tan glory, sulking. At least he was wearing his own clothes today, a soft looking shirt and a pair of gym shorts that showed way more leg than you think was considered legal. He was comfortable enough to keep his horns and tail out with black, thick-framed glasses as the newest addition.

It wasn’t the first time you’ve seen him in such a vexed state. Haechan liked to complain. There wasn’t a day where he didn’t voice his grievances that you kind of expected a long-winded rant the moment you walked through the door, but as you looked closer, he didn’t seem to be in the mood for routine.

He seemed subdued. Sun-kissed skin took on a deathlike pallor and devoid of the usual inhuman glow, so unlike the deceptively beautiful incubus, unshakable even against the harshest remark you’d thrown at him. Now, he looked quite the poster-child for pity. Even his striking eyes lacked the ever-present sheen of mischief in them. He looked awfully plain, almost in a sickly way.

His pout took on a more dangerous route, so close to tugging on your heartstrings with how… pathetic he came off. “I’m hungry.”

“Uh-huh. Read your text,” you said, shoving your sneakers into the cubby.

He did know that he lived here way before you, right? This place was his as much as it was yours. A truth he’d always hold above your head to get his point across, which naturally meant that he was free to gobble up anything edible unless you tell him a specific food item wasn’t for his claws to sink in.

“You didn’t start on dinner,” you noted as you stalked into the kitchen for a drink. “Did you want me to cook instead?”

Haechan's face twisted, something a little pained as he let out a soft whine. “Not hungry as in hungry.” he patted his stomach. “I’m hungry as in—y’know.” Haechan made this intricate gesture with a hand. Like you were supposed to know what the fuck that meant—never mind, he was missing one hand. The crude motion he made soon after told you all you needed to know. What he was particularly hungry for.

“Ah.” No wonder he was so needy. Why he seemed sluggish; irritable at times as he almost snapped at you for not putting as much sweet chili paste he wanted in the tteokbokki that one time. It was actually kind of cute, that someone who acted like he was above everyone else was reduced to this. “Is that why you’ve been so clingy? Haven’t found anyone to bump uglies with?”

Clingy was one way to put it, but to be specific, for an entity birthed from all that was considered evil and dark, Haechan oddly had a cutesy disposition at times. The clinginess was very apparent though, reminding you of an overzealous cat shadowing your every move, getting in your way sometimes and not quite letting you have space. The apartment wasn’t exactly generous in that area either.

“My dick isn’t ugly,” Haechan scowled, blinking slowly as he slumped against the cushions.

You couldn’t help but to snort as you pressed the bottle’s opening to your lips. “Is it?”

An offhand comment, really, yet Haechan took it as a challenge anyway. Like he did with most things. You blamed it on his Leo placements. “I can prove it to you right now,” He pushed on as he sat straight up, making you freeze. “You’re talking to a very hungry and very desperate incubus.”

Oh. So you were doing this.

Well, it wasn’t like you were not expecting to be Haechan’s temporary object of desire. It’s just, he never outright asked you to sleep with him, making it easy to assume that he got his fix from somewhere else. Sure, there were hints dropped here and there, though you’d prefer if it was spelled out for you to avoid any misunderstandings.

Now it was spelled out for you. Succinctly. No bullshit or riddle-speak to force you into doing mental gymnastics to figure out what he wanted. Nothing could be clearer than the incubus threatening to whip out the monster hiding in his pants just to prove you wrong (as one does).

Also, maybe you should learn how to shut the fuck up next time.

Panic shot through you like an electrical current, choking on your drink when you caught sight of his fingers teasing the waistband of his shorts.

“Wait!” you wheeze after a coughing fit, a hand shooting out to stop him from flashing you. “Can I at least wash up first?”

“Oh,” Haechan actually looked dejected at this as his hand stilled. “Okay. Don’t take too long, or I’ll miss you.”

‘I’ll miss you’. Jesus Christ. Even the text was less weird. 

“I’ll literally be only a few meters away?” You sputtered.

“Ugh, too far.” he whined, slinking over the couch’s armrest like a lazy cat. Haechan gave the bathroom door a brief glance before his attention went back on you, eyes softer around the edges and almost pleading. “Can’t I just go in there with you?”

“What.”

“We don’t have to do anything! You can have your shower while I can just sit on the toilet and talk about my day!” Haechan explained. Like it was that simple. “Or you can tell me about yours!” He added as an afterthought as if that would make him sound less insane.

The long look you gave was enough of an answer before you all but rushed into the bathroom, completely ignoring the indignant yell from Haechan as you locked the door behind you.

This was probably the weirdest shower you’ve ever had.

Actually, this was the only weirdest shower you’ve ever had.

As if you weren’t embarrassed enough from Haechan offering to keep you ‘company’—which, again, was insane and very bold. Mostly insane—he spent the first five minutes pawing at the door, whining about how he “won’t do anything, really! Just let me be with you, please.” and maybe, maybe you did kind of entertain the idea for a good five seconds or so, before you were hit with how fucking ridiculous it sounded.

Though, admittedly, it was a little endearing, hearing just how desperate he can get, but also the fact that he could literally poof in if he wanted to. He just chose not to. A literal demon. In the flesh. An incubus with unimaginable power running through his veins he could use and abuse to get his way. And Haechan does none of that.

He was still outside. Still pawing at the door, all the while recounting his day spent lounging about the house since the lack of sex had depleted his energy to doing anything else, apparently.

(Seriously, what did he do in all his spare time?)

Other than that, it seemed the concept of consent wasn’t at all lost, that it still held some sort of value for the people assumed to not have any morals (the more you know). It could very well just be a Haechan thing, nonetheless you appreciated the rare instance of him not testing his luck against the boundaries you’ve set.

You made a face. Half at the way the lukewarm water sprayed onto your face bringing you out of your mulling, and half at the thought that Haechan could be sweet and considerate when he wanted to (or when it was convenient for him). 

He did have the face for it. That’s something you have regularly thought about—sleepy eyes, cute button nose, petal-pink heart-shaped lips and the array of moles smattered along his face and neck—yet sweet was the furthest adjective you’d attach to him, honestly speaking. You didn't think he was capable of anything soft, unless it was to manipulate a situation. Not when you were antagonized every waking day God forced you to face until you left Satan’s little minion on the couch for the night, just to do it all over again as soon as the sun bled through the blinds.

(With all the thinking time the shower has given you, you still didn’t know what his actual day-to-day schedule consisted of, though you could so tell that he fit ‘bothering Y/N, the boring human’ somewhere in there. It was one of his favorite past times).

Yunjin once mentioned that your resting face and the intensity of your glaring were the reasons why you were considered unapproachable, scaring off any potential suitor, too.

Like that was a problem. The guys at your university were mid at best and you wouldn't be caught dead with a guy who made getting his daily gains his entire personality trait.

Haechan was a different story entirely, somehow appearing flattered that you were trying to set him on fire with your eyes alone.

Both of you had migrated to the couch with you sitting criss-cross applesauce and a shoulder pressed against the couch’s backrest. Haechan took on a more laxer route; an arm propped up on the armrest to rest a cheek on his fist, torso twisted to face you without losing any of that comfort, and not even flinching when hit by the full force of your glare and furrowed eyebrows.

“So, are you a virgin?”

You glared even harder. “Shut up.”

“I’m just making sure! So I can adjust accordingly. Your first time should always be gentle and sweet, then we can talk about the other spicy shit you wanna try. Christian Grey style.” There was a joke being formulated here. You can literally see him working it out in his head. From the gleam in his eyes and the subtle twitch of his lips, you knew you were going to absolutely hate it. “Could I interest you in some nipple clamps?”

There was a version of Haechan in your head that had just died from spontaneous combustion, just like the other Haechans that died from different causes for simply talking his shit.

“I will clamp your fucking mouth shut, demon.”

“Stop,” he grinned, delighted by the reaction. “you’re gonna make me hard.”

“Freak,” you quipped, folding your arms. “and I don’t think Fifty Shades of Grey is a great representation of the B-D-S-M community. Or a reliable point of reference.”

“Yeah, I figured you’d be snooty with your smut choices.”

Please. You’ve read fan-fiction porn written better than what you’ve seen on the market, or (God forbid) BookTok. Obviously. The argument, however, didn’t make it past your teeth, and it was second nature to rebut against every jab Haechan hurled your way. It was a thing. Your thing. As in plural—for both of you, to engage in a back-and-forth until one of you conceded. It was a Haechan and Y/N thing to argue as if it were life or death.

And for the first time ever, none of you attempted to get the first word in. You could hear a pin drop in the silence that bit at the tail end of Haechan’s sentence and all that was left for you to do was to size each other up. Much like the night you woke to the demon sitting at the foot of your bed, gargoyle-like.

“Right,” you started, pushing yourself up to sit properly. Might as well get this over with. And for the sake of precaution, you can just threaten to waterboard him with holy water if he dared tell anyone else (does he even have any friends?) about what went on behind the manicured door of apartment 66. “How do we do this?”

Haechan inclined his head and smiled.

“Relax,” Haechan stressed as he tried coaxing you into sitting your full weight onto his thighs and then huffing when you couldn’t seem to just… let yourself go. “I’m starting to believe that you are a virgin from how tense you are.”

“Easy for you to say.”

He wasn’t the one who had unwillingly abstained from sex for longer than what was considered normal, and you honestly believed you'd forgotten most of what you learned from the handful of meaningless hookups you’ve gone through. And yes, perhaps you were a little hesitant. You were pretty sure you have forgotten what a dick looked like too from not getting any on the regular.

Haechan was walking temptation himself. Sex on mile long legs that should be illegal, honestly, and being compared to his gargantuan pool of past conquests was terrifying to think about. What if you became his worst lay to date? That would actually obliterate the last ounces of your confidence and self-respect, and there wasn’t much to begin with.

Unsurprisingly, the incubus didn’t get where you were coming from, judging by the pointed look he gave you. “It literally is. I’m serious. Just sit down.”

And down you went on his lap with an undignified yelp as your fingers dug into his shoulder for balance. Even squirming to get out of his hold was too much work. Like, it was an actual struggle against Haechan’s tighter than tight grip. Fuck him and the abnormal strength. Escaping has never been so difficult until now, and you’d like to think you were rather good at it too.

“Last chance to admit you’re still a virgin,” he teased and sang the word ‘virgin’ just to further annoy you.

You felt your eye twitch. “Not a virgin. Just…” it tapered off into a sigh as you leaned back a bit for more breathing space, staring resolutely at the small, polished black horns protruding from his head. Was it you, or was it getting a bit warm? “It’s been a while for me.”

“Ah. Nervous?” Haechan supplied and the sigh of relief you released when his hands on your hips loosened their grip didn’t go unnoticed, his amusement made apparent with a soft chuckle. “Scared? I won’t bite unless you want me to.” Something told you he’d probably do it anyway. “and I’m not expecting you to like, be a pro or anything. You just sitting on my lap is already doing me wonders.”

Sitting on his lap was doing something for you too. Not quite falling in line with what Haechan was obviously hinting at, but a grounding feeling where all you could really focus on was how unnaturally warm he was. Going hand-in-hand with Haechan’s thumbs trying to meld circles into your hips became a good enough distraction to put the neurons firing off in your brian to a total stand still.

“Will kissing me help you calm down?” Haechan asked after a few beats of silence. “Or is that too much for you too?”

It was a very obvious bait only Haechan knew of to lure you in. The playful tone was too damning to let it fly above your head, yet you didn’t rise to clamp your teeth around the hook. This dragged on long enough and you were actually starting to get antsy because he wasn’t doing anything. He had every bit of power to do anything he wanted with you. You thought you sprawled above his lap was enough of a prompter for him to just take and take, but—

But.

Amber eyes. Striking as they always were even under the dim warmth of the accent lights, were less piercing as they gaze into your own pair. Something else lurked beneath the thin ring of amber, thinned by blown pupils. Something almost balmy and when you started to loosen up, Haechan wasted no time in gently taking both of your clammy hands to place them above his chest. He was warm here too, your palms curving over the slight swell of his pecs, silently marveling at the firm muscles.

Your eyes flickered a moment down to his lips. Haechan huffed softly with a wry smile. You looked away.

He was quick to catch your chin with a hand, however. “I’m gonna kiss you now.” He warned, moving closer and closer—

And Haechan takes.

Pillowy soft lips slot in between your own trembling pair in a gentle dance. Tentative almost, which you knew was your doing while Haechan remained patient in matching what you have set for your own comfort, surprisingly. Haechan was many things, and patient was less likely to be related to his person, yet it was all he was when he changed the angle and deepened each succeeding press of his mouth.

Technically, this wasn’t the first time you shared a kiss with him (them being in dreams), but this was the first time you shared an actual kiss, lucid. Mind ever present and attuned in the moment to feel and act upon Haechan’s lips. So very unlike the fleeting drag of his mouth from your own and down the length of your throat and Haechan kissed like he just knew what to do. Knew what would earn him a sigh, an appreciative hum, or even a airy moan you had just let out from a teasing bite on your lower lip.

And as expected, Haechan forgot what it meant to be patient.

Haechan cursed low under his breath as he pulled away, ripping his glasses from his face and throwing it onto the coffee table with a loud clatter before capturing your lips again, tongue slipping right past the seam of your lips to taste more of you. His hands were just as impatient, leaving his warmth everywhere and everywhere until he sets them onto your thighs encasing his own. Haechan wasted no time feeling you up, squeezing and rubbing the soft flesh as he went higher where one missing detail halted his movements.

He pulled away from you with a wet sound and pressed his lips to your throat, “Just panties?” He asked, voice low and hoarse.

“Easy access,” you murmured, running your fingers through the unruly, but soft head of jet-black strands and pulling him back by the hairs on his nape to take a good look at him. Pulling his hair seemed to do something, or maybe it was the fact that you’ve been hot and heavy with the way his cheeks glowed a faint rosy hue. You didn’t know an all too powerful demon could be reduced to a debauched version of himself through kissing alone.

It’s made clear to you again that you still have much to learn and at this point, you couldn’t even deny the feelings that conflicted with your head.

“Less talking and more kissing.”

You wanted him. You wanted Haechan and all the oddities that may come with him.

“Oh, darling girl,” He cooed. “I’m all yours.”

The gradual descent from soft and measured to desperate and graceless was an all-consuming sensation of the incubus pulling your chin down so he could easily lick into your mouth. Like this was his personal way of sucking the soul out of you, through the languid drag of his tongue against yours. It was hot, wet, Messy. So messy and the slick sounds of smacking mouths wasn’t enough to alleviate the raging fire burning underneath Haechan’s golden skin and with the way he was holding you so close to him, you would think he was trying to fuse your masses together from sheer willpower alone.

Kissing soon became a forgotten art form, becoming less invested in the sweet taste of him and more inclined to draw out rough, dragged out groans with the slow rocking of your hips. It was a heady feeling being able to have the upper hand, even just for a short moment because if there’s one thing that was painfully obvious about the demon, it was that he hated losing.

(It’s beyond you how he’s able to make anything into a competition).

And the shiver that wracked throughout your entire body from Haechan sneaking his fingers underneath the flimsy garment of your panties was all sorts of rewarding, gripping the bare skin of your hips to guide you into pressing impossibly closer to his hefty bulge. An almost perfect fit in between the apex of your thighs. He wasn’t done, however, because an arm wound around your waist to keep you in place, and an unprompted moan tumbled from your mouth from jerking upwards to match the languid circling of your hips. 

“Like that,” Haechan said, breathless and mouthing wetly against your neck and still keeping up with the pace. “Like it when I know you feel good.” As if your brain wasn’t scrambled enough already he just had to say something like that and so easily too.

“Me too,” you said in spite of yourself, coming out as a whine. Almost delirious from the constant bouts of the incubus marking up your neck, gasping at the playful bite at your collarbone like he was demanding more from you. “Pretty. Your voice. I like how you sound.”

Haechan soothed the bite with kitten licks, letting out a sound, high and incredulous as if it was squeaked out from him. It was a funny kind of sound and you would have laughed if this situation took a sharp left. “You’re awfully honest tonight,” he noted. “got something to tell me?”

There’s a lazy grin tugging at his lips when he gets pulled by his hair again, akin to a cat getting caught in a place he wasn’t supposed to be at. Not even a grain of guilt could be seen on him as Haechan looked particularly smug. All too knowing of an inside joke you were ignorant to. It pissed you off.

It showed easily on your face as you scowled down at him.

“It’s probably your freaky magic forcing me to be.” Sure you were just as bad as Haechan not finding it in himself to shut up when it truly mattered, but you couldn’t say the same when it came to honesty or vulnerability. There was a faint trace of the citrusy scent you’ve associated with him too, especially when his magic was used. Yeah, that’s got to be it. It’s his magic doing all this brain scrambling thing.

Haechan doesn’t fight you on it, surprisingly, still maintaining that smug exterior despite how much of a hot mess he clearly looked with blown-out pupils and kiss-swollen lips. 

“Is that right?”

“Yeah.”

Although It did sound like he was conceding (a rare feat on its own, really since Haechan loved to argue as well. Like he gets a kick out of hearing you go off on a tangent. Almost like it was foreplay to him), you can never be too sure with him, and the next course of action was purely motivated by getting him to stay quiet. Keeping your lips on his did the trick, of course. An occupied mouth promised you absolute silence, save from the noises you managed to pull from him.

Pulling away, you began your descent; open-mouthed kisses mapped around the tantalizing bronze of his neck, something he deeply appreciated if the pleased hum was anything to go by. Hands dragged lower and lower to feel the firm planes of his stomach barred by his smooth shirt, until you were off of his lap and kneeling in between his legs.

And the tent in his shorts looked just as impressive as it felt pressed against you. You didn’t want to assume, but some crazed part of you had occasional ‘what ifs’ centered around his power being a direct reflection of his size.

Was it crazy? Yes. Was it as crazy wanting his cock deep inside your mouth that it could possibly puncture your esophagus? Definitely. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you sure as hell will be milking it for all its worth.

It was always such a treat catching the demon off-guard, preening at the precious sight of a rosy blush coating his cheeks. “What..?” The absolute bewilderment was cute, actually, and you just knew he was going to be even cuter when you reached out, grabbed a hold of his cock and—

“Oh, fuck.” Squeezed.

You leaned in close with your other hand on his thigh and asked, “Can I?” as you batted your eyelashes once, twice and lips pressed against the cockhead strained against the material the third time. Haechan’s own pair of lips parted to let out a soft moan, whether it was from the sensation of you gently trailing your nose up the length of his dick, or just at the mere sight of you doing so, it was rewarding all the same—that Haechan was at your mercy.

“You can do whatever the fuck you want,” he breathed out, clearly trying so hard to keep his composure.

This was it. Morbid curiosity conjured all sorts of images relating to what could be possibly doing a ‘is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just excited to see me?’ rendition. It couldn’t be just a normal looking dick, right? The idea itself was boring and it’s pretty obvious that boring wasn’t exactly exclusive to the demon. He was anything but boring. Well, you were about to find out anyway and with an encouraging nod from Haechan, your fingers hooked on the waistband and pulled to reveal—

“Why are you glaring at my dick like that?”

You blinked, glancing from the supposed monster that almost took your eye out from how it sprung out of its confines and slapped against his smooth stomach, to a frowning Haechan, clearly taken aback by your reaction.

“No underwear?”

“Easy access,” you should have expected that his shamelessness knows no bounds. Whore. “Seriously, stop glaring at it, hello? It’s not gonna bite you or anything.”

“I’m not,” you were squinting, leaning in closer and not minding Haechan’s squirming as you carefully assessed the shaft, marveling at its length and girth by giving it another squeeze and watching the precome bead from its head in mild fascination. “Just observing—I don’t know, I was expecting something else and not an actual penis attached to you.”

“An actual—what were you expecting?” He demanded, voice high, incredulous and sounding all too judgmental for your liking. “Something ribbed? Monstrous? Like those Bad Dragon toys? Tell me, are you a monster fucker?”

“Not a monster fucker,” you grumbled and then perked up, peering at him incredulously. “you know about those?”

He scoffed, like he was offended that you didn’t think he was up-to-date with current trends. “I have an iPhone. I use Google like everyone else, dude. Google is amazing.”

“Did you also know that you’re not supposed to call me ‘dude’ before I shove your dick in my mouth, dude? Or did Google not tell you that?” You paused.

God, maybe bickering was some kind of foreplay for him.

“Can you just suck me off, please?” he whined. “I feel like my dick will explode if you don’t. Actually, I’ll even burst into ashes and die.”

“… really?”

“Baby, please.”

“Fine,” you heaved out an exaggerated sigh, not acknowledging the word ‘baby’. “if I have to.”

“You’re the one who got on their knees!” Haechan squawked, “and don’t make it sound like a chore—”

You didn’t let him finish that complaint, quickly taking the sticky head of his cock into your mouth and sucked. Salt and the barest of sweetness hits your tongue just as Haechan choked on his own spit.

“Oh. Oh shit.”

Haechan properly moaned as a hand gripped on your nape when you took him deeper into the slick heat of your mouth, minding your teeth, and pumping what you couldn’t fit for now punched out a groan from him. Loud and guttural—mostly loud. Unabashedly so—that you just had to take a peek to see what he looked like, completely losing himself in the haze of pleasure you brought up on him.

His head had fallen forward, eyes shut and breath turning shallow the more you take in his cock with each bob of your head. This wasn’t exactly your first rodeo, going down on someone, but with the ache you were starting to feel in your jaw, you might as well be inexperienced because of his sheer size. Haechan wasn’t obscenely big to the point it was going to be an impossible fit, though he was definitely the biggest you’ve had in your mouth (about to have in your pussy. Maybe. Hopefully?) so far and somehow, as if letting his spirit possess you, you took this as a challenge.

Your eyes were still on him when you released him with a pop, licking a stripe from his balls up and digging the tip of your tongue into the slit when you reached his tip to gauge his reactions. What made him tense? What was the likely trick to pull every lewd sound from him? What could you do to make him lose all grip on his control and let him take the wheel? It was meant to be a sloppy job, sure, but this wasn't just having Haechan’s pleasure as your priority, it was yours too.

And watching him fall apart just from your hands and mouth alone was doing something for you, something for the dampness you were starting to feel in between your thighs.

You’ve settled on a rhythm that seemed to tick off almost all three from your blowjob checklist. The grip on your nape was tighter and the sounds falling from his lips became all sorts of harmonious. Haechan had such a beautiful voice, a unique tone that would have been such a waste if you hadn’t stepped up to make use of such a gift, and satisfaction curls from within you knowing you were responsible for creating such a wonderful song from having power over a monster.

“Fucking Hell,” Haechan whined, stuttering as your name rolled of his tongue. The hand that wasn’t occupied held onto your jaw, your cheeks caving in beneath his thumb and fingers for a tighter squeeze around his cock and making you moan and gag as drool seeped from the gaps and down his remaining length. “I—I wanna try something. You up for it?”

His hand left your nape, letting you pull away with a sharp intake of breath, eyes wet.

You definitely looked like an absolute wreck right now and yet Haechan stared like you were anything but a mess. It made your skin crawl. It made you feel so seen, but you didn’t really have the strength to push back against whatever ignited behind his eyes.

“What do you want me to do?” Jesus, you sounded so wrecked already.

Haechan looked relieved. “I want you to relax for me,” he said, the same hand that held your jaw now cupped your cheek. “I want you to trust me.”

“Okay.” He hasn’t done anything to make you not trust him so far. “I trust you.”

“Okay,” he repeated and his hand was back on your neck again, nudging you forward until your swollen lips pressed against his frenulum. “Relax.”

The faint citrusy sweetness increased in its intensity, so overpowering that it usually meant that a headache would soon come along, but it never did. Instead, there was a calmness that washed over your feverish skin, seeping into your muscles that unwound all the tension in your body and making you sag forward. While this—whatever this was—was happening, Haechan lazily flicked his wrist to jerk himself off, minding your face before squeezing the base of his dick and moaning softly when catching your eyes.

Strange. Everything felt so floaty. Like there was this sleepy haze encompassing your mind that numbed all your senses and rendering control over your own body next to non-existent, leaving Haechan to do all the work himself; one hand still remaining a heavy presence on the back of your head with the other guiding his cock into your mouth.

“Open up, sweet girl,” then fucked in the entire thing in one swift go.

It was an instant stretch for sure, but you didn’t gag. Not even a bit. It was like that particular reflex had been numbed into nothing as Haechan wasted no time settling on a brutal place, fucking up into your face, blatantly using you—your mouth like a cocksleeve with each rut of his hips becoming rougher after the other.

“Look at you just taking it, fuck.” Haechan groaned, pleasure just as visible on his face from the faraway look in his eyes to his slackened jaw, freely letting him run his mouth. “You talk too much, y’know that? Always bitching about something and all I could think of was shutting you up with my cock.” He hissed. “Now look at you. So fucking pliant. Knew you were gonna be so good for me. ‘s like you were just made for it. Made for me.” you couldn’t help but whine as his fingers stroked your cheek full of cock.

It was a tight fit. So tight that it was the only thing you could think about, holding on to one of Haechan’s thighs to keep you anchored amidst the overwhelming fullness in your mouth. How you managed to keep up with the almost frantic thrusts, you had no idea, though it looked like you were faring well with pulling off every trick in the ‘sucking dick’ handbook if he was throwing his head back and gasping when you sucked particularly hard on the upstroke.

The sight was something else entirely. Pornographic almost, in a way the front row seat of the demon getting himself off left you squirming, hyper aware of how damp your panties have gotten that it stuck to your skin. All from watching and being used to get his fill.

You were so horny that you could cry.

You staved off your own pleasure to be of service to Haechan and you were just hit with how much you needed to be touched. A whimper broke out from you, garbled and broken when you couldn't even ask him to do something. Anything to make the ache go away.

“I know, darling.” Haechan gritted. You hadn’t even realized your eyes fell shut when they snapped open and met his pinched expression. “Just a little bit more. You can take more, can you? For me? I’m going easy on you for your first time. You should be thankful I did. Next time, I won’t be so merciful. I want to see you gagging for it. Choking on it. You’d do that for me, won’t you?”

All you could do was hum, nails digging into the meat of his thigh when he pressed your head forward until your nose digs into the nearly trimmed hair surrounding his groin. Still, you didn’t gag, but swallowed, still numb and the weight on your tongue was pleasant if anything. Your mouth felt so full and the pronounced ache in your jaw had tears brimming along the edges of your eyes.

You didn’t think you could wait that long, not when it clicked that you had both hands free. You made quick work of sliding your one hand down and into your panties, legs parting wide enough just as Haechan resumed his roughness. Your body burned hotter than ever, cheeks being the warmest, exponentially embarrassed by touching yourself in front of Haechan, whether he was aware or not.

It was quite the arduous task too, especially with the effects you were starting to feel when you remembered the tangy scent was there for a reason. Like something was being taken away from you. This was probably the life force the demon was talking about, seeping through every pore to be taken and consumed until you were fit to do it all over again.

You were beginning to fall into delirium from the onslaught sensations of Haechan incessantly rubbing against the flat your tongue while chasing your own release by the quick work of your fingers along your clit. Delirious to a point where you felt things that weren’t even there, winding around your thighs and waist. You had thought it was the demon’s arrow-headed tail that somehow lengthened, but when you checked, it remained wrapped around your wrist, the one laid across his thigh.

The discovery wasn’t exactly alarming. Kind of weird, sure, like the many oddities of Haechan, but you just chalked it up as his magic keeping you in place. Invisible ropes coiling and uncoiling around your legs as their way to caress your skin, grounding you, and acting like they were an extension of him and his subconscious. Almost like they were t—

“Fuck. fuck,” Haechan whined, following up with a, “gonna come—gonna come!” with his grip growing tighter and tighter. You were close too. On the brink of it, admittedly, and that was from being so wound up, simply watching that you were kind of surprised you hadn’t cum all over your fingers the very moment they slipped in between your folds.

On a surprising act of chivalry, Haechan did try to pull out from being buried in your mouth in what felt like hours of being reduced as some hole he’d get to use, though the moment he warned you again, you silenced him with a tearful glare and sank until your nose crushed into his pubic bone again, all the while holding onto the hand that never seemed to leave the back of your neck just to prove a point.

Blunt nails dug into the skin of your nape as Haechan shoots thick streaks of his cum down your throat with a choked off groan just as you moaned around his length, falling apart just shortly behind. Thighs shaking in exertion from kneeling and the orgasm that jolted through your veins that, in return, dissipated the fog of the spell? Magic? that acted as a numbing agent for your throat. It was then that you gagged. Almost violently as the sound wasn’t at all pretty, nor sexy, given the current setup.

You were fine though, albeit teary and out of breath as you took Haechan’s thick cum like a champ, swallowing every single, tartly sweet drop with the cockhead pressing at your soft palate. Once he slumped against the couch did you then pull him out of your mouth, sliding your tongue  back-and-forth at the underside of his cock to tease and bring him to the beginnings of oversensitivity.

Haechan could only whine, lazily trying to pull you away, to no avail.

You let up, snickering at the withering glare he gave you.

Out of everything you tried, this was probably your favorite way of shutting him up. Granted, Haechan was mostly the benefactor from getting his dick sucked, it was loads better hearing an artful mix of his moans and whines than him actively trying to make himself out as the insufferable villain in your story with words alone.

“You’re a peach, Y/N,” Haechan said after gathering the much needed oxygen back in his lungs. “The sweetest peach. I could eat you up. C’mere.” You damn well hope he won't. Being eaten is like the worst way to die, even if you knew it was a little jokey-joke he’d often tell just to see you squirm  “Let’s take care of you.”

Oh.

Oh. Right.

“It’s fine,” you waved him and the offer off. “I—um, finished.” You cringed. What are you? A wench from the Victorian period?

Haechan looked so incredulous for a man who just got his soul sucked out through his dick. “You did? Show me.”

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, sitting a little straighter and pulled your hand out from your panties. The evidence was quite clear too, coming in the form of glistening fingers that Haechan immediately noticed and before you could even blink, he had you on his lap once again to stick his tongue into your mouth. One hand around your throat, not necessarily choking you, and the other sneaking underneath your top to squeeze your tit.

“Think you can ride me?” Haechan asked in between the rushed push and pull of your lips. “All this just from sucking me off? I could just slide right in no problem,” his fingers slid into your underwear, warm fingers dragging over your clit and shallowly dipping into your hole as he said this. “Fuck, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? You have no idea how much I wanted to fuck you since you first walked into the bedroom. You want that, don’t you? Say yes.”

Burying his fingers deeper into your wet heat, you keened, pressing both your foreheads together. “Yes.”

Haechan’s smile was absolutely degenerate.

“Good girl.”

Just then, the front door slammed open.

The surprised scream that left you was next to ungodly as your arms flew around the incubus’ neck as his fingers pulled out from your panties—

“Honey, I’m home!”

And in walked a man you had never seen in your entire life, apparently ripped all to Hell because of fucking course the first thing you’d pay attention to was his tits. Visible even under the shirt that was meant to be oversized with the sleeves falling past his elbows, and sadly, you were no better than a man. His pecs looked insane and in your defense, they looked at you first!

“Oh. Oh, was I interrupting something?”

“Yes. Fuck off.” Haechan hissed just as you exclaimed, “who the fuck are you?”

The stranger completely skimmed past the demon, more interested in your presence.. “Now aren’t you a catty little one,” at this, Haechan pulled you closer which was followed by a soft laugh. “How cute—and my eyes are up here, sweetheart. Can’t blame you for staring, though.”

Chastised by the call-out, your eyes immediately flicked up to meet—Oh. Damn.

A glossy pair of lips parted to show two rows of perfect teeth. Far too many teeth that you thought were impossible for a human to have, but that didn’t erase the vital fact that this random dude was handsome. So, so handsome to the point your brain was struggling to comprehend that this man was real. Soft and sharp sculpted with such precision it’s as if he was crafted by the gods themselves. A full head of silver hair, one side artfully pushed back to show strong eyebrows and round sparkling eyes, staring right at you.

“Is she another one of your humans you fuck to survive?”

Well, handsome in a way it was better for him not to talk. You know, to keep up the illusion.

Haechan tongued at his cheek. “What are you doing here, Jaemin?” 

“Ah, right.” Jaemin casually strolled further in like he owned the place, the front closing by itself with a wave of his hand. Wait— “Lilith has been bothering Satan who has been bothering me to ask you when you’ll visit home.” Jaemin explained, then followed up with, “when do you plan on coming back home? I think more than five decades of complete radio silence is a bit much even for you, Haechanie.”

Oh great. As if one wasn’t already enough, another demon—by the damning sign of Lilith and Satan and Hell being mentioned—was under your roof.

You felt Haechan go rigid under you and you turned to him, confused at the sight of him slightly panicked. You had never seen him this panicked. “Um, never, actually!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It’s stated in Hell’s handbook,” It’s a real thing? “that I can’t leave the mortal plane when I’m tied down.”

Tied down? Did he mean the sigil somewhere in the apartment?

“Right,” Jaemin drawled, a thick and strong eyebrow arching in question with a fleeting glance towards you. “okay, so where is her mark then?”

“Here!”

Searing pain immediately bloomed on the inside of your wrist as soon as Haechan took hold of it, making you gasp as you watched delicately curled lines take shape into the sun. A small, inky thing the size of a coin branded on what was once the smooth plane of your wrist. Haechan’s sigil was now a permanent part of you too, a pretty little thing if you only knew what it meant.

“Well,” Jaemin coughed, glancing between you and the incubus. “Congratulations. Haechan is now yours, as you are his. You’re now bound to each other until death.”

Nevermind. The sigil was positively the ugliest thing to be tattooed on your body.

Haechan was already looking up at you, terrified.

“I can explain—”

“I’m going to fucking kill you, demon.”

“Haha… is that plain water in that spray bottle, or is it actually holy water?” Haechan asked, his placating smile waning as each second of you not answering passed. “Please tell me it’s just water.”

Haechan shrieked, falling to his knees and arms coming up to block his face when you all but jerked the bottle towards his direction with a sardonic smile.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

It took you three full days to forgive him. After getting on his knees to eat you out against the kitchen counter, of course.

“I’m not against tattoos or anything, but,” you took a quick moment to observe the mark he left on you with little difficulty in understanding just why this was even a thing. “do you have to mark everyone you sleep with? Is this for you to keep track of them?” The thought then immediately left a bad taste in your mouth. Did this mean that you were simply part of the crowd Haechan would entertain only when he needed to?

“I haven’t been sleeping with anyone else.” Haechan confessed, quiet. “It’s kind of the reason why I’m hungrier than usual.”

“Oh.”

That made a lot of sense actually. Venturing out in search of a willing body was a thing for the first few months of being under the same roof. Haechan would always let you know of his plans for his nightly plans out of politeness that nights alone had become routine as well. Then somewhere along the way, it became a seldom occurrence. Twice a week. Once a week. Once every two weeks until you had realized he spent more of his nights with you, but less energized than what you were used to seeing when he was ‘full’.

That still didn’t answer your question though. Why was he keeping himself from taking what he needed to survive?

“Why all this then?”

“This isn’t just binding you to me. It’s more than that,” he muttered, taking your wrist and twisting it upwards to stroke the sun inked into your skin. Tender, as if your wrist was fragile enough to break at the slightest pressure. “And It’s for my own peace of mind.”

IV.

Naturally, it became a regular thing, being bonded to an incubus aside.

Since his choices had downgraded to a singular source, there wasn’t a day where Haechan didn’t have his hands all over you, or in you since it was an unspoken thing that he liked giving as much as he liked receiving and it was treated as simply an extra thing of routine that you started seeking him out on your own accord, too.

Haechan wasn’t picky when it came to a time and place either. He had you laying on the floor once after betting he could make you cum on his tongue more than once (two was enough, but since he was competitive to a fault, he had you begging—had you crying for him to stop after the fourth time). You gave him head in the dingy stairwells of the apartment after a bad day.

In the storage room. In the shower.The supposed off-limits rooftop. On the poor dining table you had to disinfect two times before Yunjin came over. You ate on that thing, yet you spread your legs for Haechan to devour you until he was satiated. It was like an unspoken game of who can out-horny the other with little regard to privacy.

On most occasions, it was beneath you to even think of it, but the memory of Haechan holding you down on top of the working dryer and fucking your thighs in the basement slash laundry room, had you thinking otherwise. It was the most fun you’ve had in a while. Arguably your entire life, honestly.

Fucking around with Haechan was good. Great. Perfect even that all you could do was want him in every possible way you could think of. With every kiss, every touch accompanied by wicked promises breathed into your skin, Heaven was brought to you each and every time Haechan took you into his arms, having a piece of salvation for himself.

It should have been enough, oscillating between having his dick in your mouth and/or hands, or Haechan lapping at the aching center of your thighs until they quivered, or both at the same time. The classic ‘69’. (which almost always turned into a competition on who could make who cum first).

Yet greed had gradually reared its ugly head the longer you listened to your closest friends’ sexcapades that extended beyond heavy-petting and oral, because Haechan never dared to push further. The irony of a creature literally embodying temptation, yet never allowed himself to be tempted by a willing body was almost laughable, if greed and impatience hadn’t put together a simple, yet straightforward question.

“Why haven’t we had actual sex yet?”

The knife slipped from Haechan’s hand. A bloody disaster if magic hadn’t been an inherent part of the incubus’ origins. It paused in mid air before it could even reach the ground and levitated back into his hand.

“Can we talk about my day?” This was the fastest you’ve seen his face go from neutral to exasperated.

“You barely leave our apartment, what is there to talk about?” you pointed out. “and this is serious! Are you, like, trying to abstain? What’s the vegan alternative of taking my life force without actual penetration? Porn?”

Dead eyes stared right at you. “You’re not funny,” Haechan said, “and if I was abstaining, I wouldn’t have let you sit on my face last night.” Okay, fair point.

“Then what gives?” You groaned, acting as his shadow as he moved about the kitchen. “We’ve done everything but stick your ‘monster’—“ (Haechan’s eyebrows pinched together. “Why is monster in air quotations.”) “—cock inside me. Am I—” you paused, dread creeping up your system for a plausible reason why you aren’t getting dicked down like you deserved. “Am I not sexy enough?”

That startled a laugh out of him, the previous, bordering on dour front fading completely for his sunny smile to take its rightful place on his lips. “You’re plenty sexy, and cute too, apparently. C’mere.” It was almost easy walking yourself into his space, sighing as his warm palms rested on your hips. “Kinda miss when you were meaner. Did I successfully sucked the attitude out of you?”

“Oho. Didn’t realize I was getting a free show.”

You stiffened at the sound of the awfully familiar voice belonging to the current bane of existence and spun on your heel to find Jaemin on the couch, Switch joy-cons in hand.

The mortification of him listening to you essentially whining at the lack of penis-in-vagina action didn’t even get the chance to settle in when you were more annoyed at Jaemin seeking refuge in your home. Again.

“Don’t you have any other supernatural friends to annoy?”

Jaemin, totally unbothered by the visceral reaction, only gave you a sharp smile, like a shark getting a whiff of fresh blood, that raised all sorts of alarm bells. Terrifying thing, Jaemin. “Hey, sweetheart,” how he made a greeting sound so condescending, you didn’t know. Maybe it was a Jaemin thing. “You’re home early. How’s school?”

He looked to be in the middle of another session of rotting his brain by playing Animal Crossing, a mint green bunny speaking to him—his in-game character—in aegyofied gibberish. It was like looking at two Jaemins the more you scrutinize them side-by-side. One less demonic than the other, but still an uncanny resemblance.

“We don’t take in strays.”

Jaemin barked out a laugh, letting the joy-cons fall into his lap. “That's funny, coming from you.”

“I legally live here.”

“The legality of your living situation is nothing compared to my centuries of knowing Haechan,” Jaemin turned towards said incubus to bat his ridiculously long eyelashes that you held an irrational jealousy for. “right, Haechanie?”

“I hope your human crucifies you, actually.” Haechan quipped. Equal parts unimpressed and disgusted. 

Jaemin gasped, eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s so uncalled for!”

“It’s what you get for giving your human rat heads and all the other weird shit as courting gifts.” You wished Haechan was joking, but it was the truth.

The first night Jaemin came in unannounced was the very same night the he, a demon who took care of striking deals with desperate humans in exchange for their soul—A Dealer, you remember Jaemin specifying for you—realized that maybe the feelings he was harboring for his assigned human went beyond what was considered platonic. That then created a domino effect of him asking for advice, you giving advice with Haechan’s own input and Jaemin, a man of tradition, somehow fucking up in the process which revolved around his… questionable tastes in gifts.

(Also, don’t cats hunt for small animals to give their humans as ‘gifts’ too? There’s a joke to be made here somewhere. Something about Jaemin disguising himself as a demon while actually being a cryptid. An Eldritch horror in a human skin suit).

“I’m heading out to get some stuff for dinner.” Haechan said. “Talk some sense into him, will you? He gave his human a bracelet made out of teeth.”

“The entire thing is made of teeth?” He nodded, grim. Then you turned to Jaemin who resorted to whistling a tune as if what he did was socially acceptable. “Jaemin!” You scolded, like you birthed him yourself.

“What? It’s either a freshly harvested human skull for her candles or teeth from the dental clinic I work at, take your pick!” Jesus Christ, this was actually worse than talking to YangYang and he says pretty fucked up shit on the regular. And the dental clinic made so much sense, you know, with Jaemin’s wide smile and many, many teeth.

“I’ll see you in a bit okay? We can have some fun when Jaem’s gone.” Haechan winked, placed a quick kiss to your cheek before turning to Jaemin and it was impressive how the softness he had for you hardened into something stern for the other. “And try not to give my human an aneurysm. You’ve done enough damage to yours.”

And then he was gone, like, he disappeared into a puff of hot pink smoke, leaving you to marinate in the warmth of being flustered by the sudden, but not unwelcome act of affection in the middle of the kitchen.

Jaemin appeared either physically ill, or an outrageous alternative for surprise when you made your way towards him. You didn’t know. Pretty as he was, he made the strangest faces sometimes that you sort of pitied the human bound to him.

“What?”

“What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?”

“That—“ Jaemin then did this poor impression of you: an exaggerated demure curl of his lips, his stupidly long eyelashes fluttering so fast you would think he was having a seizure and the most offending of all, a high-pitched, ear-grating giggle that didn’t sound remotely close to yours. You didn’t even giggle! Not even once! “Dick so good you got domesticated.”

You closed your eyes. “Please never say those words ever again.” Or I’ll kill you myself, you wanted to say. Though, he’d probably end up killing you before you could even attempt dumping a bucket of holy water on him. “and I wouldn’t know. I’ve only had him in my mouth. We haven’t gone further than that.”

“… interesting.”

Your eyes snapped open. “You hesitated. What did you mean by that, you fucking cryptid?”

Jaemin only smiled. Knowingly. Menacingly. You hated him so much.

“So!” He clapped his hands together. “Trouble in paradise, Haechan’s human?”

“Oh don’t you even start.” you snapped, falling heavily beside him on the couch. “This is your intervention. Not mine.”

“We can both have our own interventions.” You didn’t really want to. You usually didn’t do the ‘emotions and feelings talk’ with someone who’d forced friendship upon you if you could help it, but beggars can’t be choosers and Jaemin was stubborn.

So, so stubborn. It’s like arguing with a wall, really.

“You’ve got a heart boner for our Haechanie.”

You gave him a long, tired look. “You are so weird.”

And, well, that’s one way to put it. Heart boner, you scoffed. He could have just said that you were, in essence, in the same boat as Jaemin longing for something sweet and long-lasting that wasn’t in the platonic sense. (And sex. Lots of sex).

You couldn’t exactly pin-point the exact day where things had started falling into place. It was a gradual development, you thought. How Haechan’s habits became less annoying and more endearing as time went on. How you sought out his company more than you did your classmates turned friends. How you laughed at almost everything he said or did that you would have given a certain power couple a run for their money, and how you couldn’t even imagine a life without coming home to an incubus who was very insistent in keeping your health in check, even if it was more for his benefit than yours.

The final piece clicked into place when your body gave out, rendering you sick with the flu.

You weren’t exactly sure what you were looking at.

Maybe it was the medication Haechan immediately made you drink once it became glaringly obvious it wasn’t just a simple cold making you see things because there was no way a splitting image of yourself stood by your bed, wearing clothes that belonged to your incubus housemate.

“I’m dead,” you concluded. “I’m dead and my doppelganger is here to collect my soul.”

“No, it’s your super sexy housemate disguised as you.” The wide grin looked so out of place on your face. Almost uncanny valley. You’ve never used that much facial muscle before, and not to mention your voice. Is that what you sounded like to everybody? 

“That’s even worse.” you croaked after a disgusting coughing fit.

Haechan—with your face and body—huffed. “It’s either you miss class and fail that big test you’ve got coming up, or I show up to your classes in your place, take notes for you then teach you the material.”

The answer was quite obvious already. If Haechan hadn’t existed, you still would have shown up to class and your tutoring sessions and your part-time job, regardless of being sick. Which was exponentially worse, now that you thought about it. You relayed this to the demon wearing your face, and you have never wilted so quickly underneath his intense glare.

“There’s some congee on the stove for you,” Haechan said when you thought he was satisfied with giving you the most disappointed look known to man. “Make sure you drink your medicine after every six hours and drink more water. No wonder you get headaches so often.”

“You sure it’s not because of you?” You argued. Just because you were sick didn’t mean you lost the will to fight.

“I’m serious. Don’t fight me on it,” and gosh, it wasn’t often he addressed you by your name, preferring to use a small pool of pet names he had reserved just for you, but hearing him say your name and with a tone of finality made you feel things you shouldn’t when down with a flu. Even if it was in your voice… and with your face.

“Take it easy today,” Haechan stressed as he swung your backpack over his shoulder. “And call me if you need anything—anything, and I’ll come running back, or—well, poof back.”

The congee was delicious, probably the best you’ve had in your life and it did help alleviate the symptoms, the ginger soothing your scratchy throat, you felt less congested and not a grain was left in the pot. You spent the entire day lounging on top of the nest of blankets and pillows on the couch, the faint smell of Haechan’s citrusy sweet scent soothing as you drifted in-and-out of sleep, the TV humming lowly in the background.

Haechan came stumbling in the apartment, now looking like himself, devoid of the disguise that creeped you out more than it did impress you and with a hefty looking bag of take-away in hand. He looked a bit ruffled, certainly had a long day when you reminded him of your duties as a tutor, a club member of multiple clubs and as an underpaid employee.

(“Your Google calendar is packed,” Haechan exclaimed, staring down at his phone. “what do you mean you have upcoming networking events? You already have clubs committees. How do you keep up with all this shit and keep a 4.0?”

“And how exactly do you have access to that?”

“... I’m not answering that.”)

Nonetheless, a sweet smile kept its rightful place on his heart-shaped lips, his entire frame perking up when his eyes locked on you.

“So, something interesting happened today,” Haechan started.

In no time, the coffee table was filled with food, both of you sitting on opposite sides. A random series which you did not all care about rolled on quietly behind you as you loaded your bowl with tteokbokki and it was when you stuffed the very first, still hot rice-cake into your mouth did you realize he was talking to you.

“Sorry, wha’?” you said in the midst of chewing, delighted by the sweet and spicy sauce.

“Something interesting happened,” Haechan tried again, snorting softly and reaching forward to thumb at the corner of your lips, then sticking said thumb into his mouth. “You had some sauce.” He shrugged.

“Ah,” you rasped. “So what happened?”

He smiled. A private little thing reserved just for you, and maybe a touch sweeter that made your insides fold in on itself. “What’s with this YangYang guy and his hard-on for your lunches?”

“I see why you and Jaemin are friends,” you said, nose wrinkling at the odd phraseology. “and technically, you made those lunches, so…”

“Ew.” He stuck his tongue out in disgust. “Don’t be gross. As if I want to do anything with that—that imp!”

“Why’d you say it like it’s a slur?” The delivery made it sound like it was. Not to mention he did not, at all, sound very excited at the thought of YangYang possibly meaning something to you. Which was. Understandable. “Is it a slur?”

“No,” he sighed. “He’s an actual imp.”

“What?” Something told you’ve been saying that word way too much. “Huh?” That wasn’t any better.

“You couldn’t tell? The way he smiles is a dead giveaway. His teeth looked sharp. Very touchy with me—well, you, too. Imps are literal menaces to society and would latch onto anyone for friendship. Seriously, how did you survive all this time?”

“You keep forgetting I’m human, demon. I don’t know all this supernatural shit. And why are you so bothered? Jealous that you’re not the only man in my life aside from Jaemin?”

Haechan’s face drew into a careful blank. “Eat your food.”

Satisfied, you shoved two rice-cakes into your mouth.

“I quit your job, by the way.”

You stiffened from where you sat on the counter.

He what? “You what?” Did he forget that you were broke as fuck? “Haechan, I need to work! How the hell are we going to survive?” And by ‘we’ you meant ‘you’ because only one of you needed actual food to survive. The other lived on vibes and sex which, okay, would be ideal in this life.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said. As if it was that simple and he quickly stopped you from furthering the argument with a stern look. “I’m serious. I’ll take care of it. What I need you to do for me is start taking better of yourself. You’re already overworked from school. I’m surprised you still find time to tutor people.”

“Chenle pays very well, so…”

“Well, you can keep milking him of his money then,” from the looks of it, Haechan was fine with the Chinese transferee that followed Renjun (a friend made from YangYang’s insistence) around, and that was saying something since he did spend two hours tutoring the kid who was so loud you were surprised your hearing was miraculously left intact. “And still keep up with your clubs.”

Haechan flicked his hands above the sink right after closing the faucet, finally done with the last of the dishes, drying them with a tea towel before he stood in between your thighs.

“Should I know how you’re going to make this work now that I’m unemployed?” You joked and you knew very well that Haechan somehow paid his dues. You just never cared to ask how he was able to afford half of your combined expenses since you were more relieved by not getting any unwanted notices from Ms. Hong, or any of your service providers.

Haechan’s eyes glowed something along the lines of pensive and an unnamed emotion that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. All you knew was that you felt shy under his gentle scrutiny, his usual piercing gaze softer. That he was softer now that a wry curl of his lips accompanied the tenderness.

“What you should know is that you shouldn’t worry anymore,” he said, a warm hand cradling your jaw as the other rubbed the sun inked onto your wrist. “And that I’m here. I’ll take care of everything, and I’ll take care of you.”

Looking at Haechan right now, it’s like you were seeing him for the first time and suddenly, it all made sense. Maybe he was onto something, when he had said something so simple. That it was easy. Just like how easy all of this was with him. It was as easy as Haechan completing most of a puzzle and leaving you to attach the very last piece, painting a crystal clear picture of pointing out the obvious.

The sky was blue. The Earth rotated on its own axis, and you liked Haechan. Even with his oddities.

“Oh wow,” Jaemin said, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Your face already says enough.”

You scowled. “Says you.”

He shrugged, smiling softly to himself. “If it helps, I think I do know the reason why Haechan is holding himself back.”

“From what?” Was there a dumb rule in Hell’s rule book that Haechan, as a Hellian, wasn't allowed to copulate with a non-Hellian? Because you were halfway from the actual copulation phase of this arrangement and so far, nothing bad had happened. Yet.

“From you, sweetheart, and the last thing he’d want to do is accidentally hurt you.” Jaemin explained. “He marked you, remember?”

“Yes,” fingers absentmindedly ghosted over the sun on your skin. “I do remember.”

“Then that’s all you need to know.”

“Okay now that just sounds ominous,” and you were starting to get tired of the not very subtle implications of possibly getting injured during sex. "That did not help at all."

Jaemin just nodded, vaguely. Didn’t even try to elaborate on it. He’s so annoying.

The two of you lapsed into silence, looking at each other for a brief moment then averting each others’ gaze with a unionized sigh, one heavier than the other, as you contemplated the gravity of the situation.

“So… what do you think about a tooth necklace to go with the bracelet?”

“Why can’t you be normal?”

“What did you and Jaemin talk about?”

You could almost sob from being denied yet another orgasm. Apparently, Haechan wanted to find out if he could make you squirt, which then brought forth the idea of edging you so it could be a two-in-one experience or whatever the fuck. You only agreed because he did promise some fun after Jaemin left and you were obviously going to expect him to deliver.

What you didn’t expect was for him to bring up the so-called ‘girl talk’ (as Jaemin had affectionately put it) after what felt like hours of being brought to the brink of an orgasm and denied over and over again.

“Seriously?” You groaned, lifting your head up so you could glare at the demon peeking innocently between your thighs. Though, nothing  was innocent with the way the lower half of his face was drenched in a dubious mix of his spit and your juices.

“You wanna do this right now?” Right when you were so close to leaking all over his fingers? “Just make me cum like you were made for, demon.” you grunted, emphasizing it with your fingers tightening in his hair as you rolled your hips, clit bumping against the tip of his nose.

Naturally, when Haechan was presented with a challenge, he’d make sure he’d win.

“Love it when you’re a little mean.”

The demon grinned something a little mean himself and it wasn’t long before you were crying out his name to the heavens. Some kind of bastardized prayer forced out by three of his deft fingers taking on a rough pace. Fucking into your sopping wet cunt and a mouth made of pure sin alternating between licking and sucking at your clit, all the while shaking his head to go in deeper, to have more of you until something builds.

Familiar heat simmered under your skin, body confused whether you wanted to wrench the demon’s insistent tongue away or keep him pressed against your wet heat to the point of exhausting him and yourself. Haechan made the decision for you though because somehow, it was like you were being held down, the same feeling of invisible velvet ropes coiling snugly around your waist, legs and all the way down to your ankles.

The lower half of your body was under his control, and all you could do was take, take and take until you were seeing white. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as a shaky, high-pitched moan falls from your slackened jaw. Your body went impossibly taught, thighs shaking as something more intense than your previous orgasms crashed onto you like a heavy wave, getting swept along the currents until you were certain you blacked out.

Perhaps just a few seconds of you floating about in limbo, then regaining lucidity at the sensation of Haechan petting your pussy, deeply immersed with his own fingers playing with the irregular spurts of liquid coming out of you. It was gross. It was sloppy. It was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“That’s one.” Haechan laughed, breathless and smug and the wicked glint in his gaze was enough to tell you he wasn’t done with you just yet.

“Care to give me more? I’m really hungry.”

This was going to be a long night.

V.

Realistically speaking, this was no one else’s fault but your own.

“I’m gonna be late.”

So fucking late that you could give less fucks of how you looked less put together than you normally were with skipping makeup altogether and putting on clothes that you thought was presentable, yet comfortable enough to get you through the day. Haechan wasn’t even able to get a word in with you rushing around.

Really, it was your fault. You can acknowledge that, yet there were times where you thought blaming your misfortunes on others was the way to go to feel better about yourself. Jaemin in particular, because of course he had to say something (read: make you realize a few things) to inflict a milder version of brain damage. And there was also Haechan, a glorified, overzealous leech who drained a smidge too much of your life force last night.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Oh, right.”

And maybe you were really out of it, mind not being all too present, nor did you really care to ask what it was exactly you forgot because you decided that the expectancy on the demon’s face and his permanent pouted lips were context clues hinting to something. Sleep-addled brain put two and two together, then your body decided to move first, crossing the short distance between you and the demon and pulling him down by the nape to slot your lips in between his. It was a firm press. Brief, yet sweet and smiling against his mouth was as easy as breathing when Haechan returned the warmth in earnest.

Then, it was like your brain decided to do a factory reset. A quick zap to the frontal lobe where you became more alert than necessary, peering up at Haechan with wide, shaking eyes when you roughly pulled away as if the kiss burnt.

“I was talking about your lunch,” he said after a beat, lifting the Kuromi lunch-bag with a coy smile, like he was biting back the urge to laugh. “but that works too.” He’s teasing you, appearing boyish with an arched eyebrow and you prayed for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

Oh my fucking God.

“Right! Um—” you cut yourself short with a nervous laugh and numbly reached for it, totally ignoring how his eyes—right now, a close color to the embers from a campfire—were boring holes into you. “Lighter. This feels lighter and—smaller?”

“You catch on quick,” Haechan snorted. “Tell YangYang we’re going through a recession. He can’t share with you anymore if he knows what’s good for him.” Then, his eyes narrowed, still a touch teasing. “Should I be worried that you’re kissing him too?”

Your face was burning at this point.

“I’m leaving.”

You had never run away from a situation so quickly.

Breathing heavily, you slumped against a pillar in the small reception area of the apartment complex, heart racing at an unimaginable speed with the last thing you saw before you ran out of the apartment replaying over and over again: Haechan grinning to himself with his fingertips brushing against his lower lip.

He’s so… He. Is. So. You couldn’t even articulate the mess of emotions currently making your chest feel so tight. So tightly wound up like a watermelon with an obscene amount of rubber bands wrapped around it that if you had stayed longer, chances are you would have exploded into a mess of your feelings, splattered right at Haechan’s feet.

He just had to reciprocate the kiss, as if it was a natural response between people who had no exact label to what this was between them; and you fear that there was no way you’d be able to come back from that. Thinking about coming back home was already giving you cold feet.

Just as you were about to leave the building, your phone vibrated.

haechan 👹: babe? haechan 👹: you forgot your socks and shoes lol

Cold. Your feet were actually cold and looking down, your bare feet greeted you. The lack of two crucial items didn’t even register in your head from being so flustered.

you: . you: omw back haechan 👹: ok ! haechan 👹: do i get another kiss 👉🏼👈🏼 you: haechan. haechan 👹: sorry 🫡

There’s a shit-eating grin on the demon’s face.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

You slammed the door close behind you, feet now protected with the socks and shoes and your heart even less so.

“Um,” Yunjin started the moment she walked into a very peculiar setting of YangYang hovering unsurely and awkwardly behind your slumped figure trying to permanently fuse into the table with Renjun seemingly unbothered by all of this, scribbling on his iPad. “What’s up with her?”

YangYang’s eyebrows pinched even further. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” He decided that a gentle approach wasn’t gonna cut it when you were about to keel over before any of them could figure out just why you were craving for the sweet release of death. Which, yeah, he could totally understand, but YangYang was nosy as all Hell before anything else and something like death could wait.

“She’s been like that for the past 10 minutes,” Renjun helpfully supplied before the other only guy in the room could wage psychological warfare. “Whining something about embarrassment, some hot guy in her apartment, feeling inadequate due to the pressure women face in society—“

“Hold on, what?”

“Feeling inadequate due to the—“

“No, dipshit, the one before that.”

“Some hot guy in her—” Renjun cut himself short and turned his head at breakneck speed to gape at you. “Since when were you seeing a guy?”

Yunjin’s face twisted, “you’re into guys?”

“A hot guy,” YangYang emphasized. “How big is his dick?”

“YangYang!” Yunjin hissed, bright orange hair whipping around wildly as she smacked him upside the head right when you answered with a resigned, “felt like I couldn’t breathe once.”

Yunjin looked like she had seen death altogether. “I already hate this conversation.”

Despite herself, Yunjin was all ears as you spilled the whole ‘hot guy’ situation; the dire details of Haechan and him being a century-something-old incubus being covered up by a multitude of lies. The most damning of them all being Haechan was an estranged friend you had recently reconnected with which landed you in the position of housing him for an indefinite amount of time.

And let’s not forget the recent development of you harboring real and scary feelings for a guy that had semi-permanently warmed your bed. In more ways than one.

This was sick and twisted. Haechan was supposed to be just some demon you’d occasionally sexualize, and now it felt wrong to do even that. You wanted to hold his hand. You wanted to wake up to his face everyday, marveling at the constellation of moles that stretched from neck to face forming Ursa Minor. You wanted to kiss him. His lips. His cute button nose. His cheeks—everywhere on his face until it was Haechan whining for you to stop.

(He’d probably let you continue anyway. You whined at the thought).

“Okay, but I don’t see how it’s a problem when you’ve done worse than kissing.”

“I kissed him before I left,” you whispered. “we aren’t even dating.”

“My condolences,” Yunjin said, gently patting your back.

You moaned, burying your face into your arms. “I wished we were dating.” Or whatever the Hellian equivalent was.

“... my condolences.” Yunjin said again, quieter, as Renjun let out the ugliest snort you didn’t think he was capable of producing. You always viewed him as someone with no flaws whatsoever. At least you now knew that he wasn’t that unreachable.

YangYang was a little more dramatic with his reaction, his eyes almost bugging out of their sockets and looking as if you had killed his first born. “It’s like I don’t even know you anymore! I didn’t even know you were seeing someone! What else have you been up to?”

“Well,” you shifted so that it was your cheek resting on your arms to properly talk to the three faces of varying curiosity (read: nosiness). “I’m unemployed now.”

“You quit your job?” YangYang’s eyebrows disappeared underneath his pink fringe. “Why? Aren’t you, like, poor? How’s that gonna work?”

Damn. He wasn’t wrong, but he didn’t need to put it like that.

“I hate being your friend,” Renjun said, on the verge of strangling the guy. “are you socially inept?”

“I mean, I was homeschooled until 11th grade, so…”

“Anyways!” you decided to cut in, now sitting up properly to prevent a possible crime scene from happening when you caught Renjun’s eye twitch. “Yes, I quit my job. But I’ll be fine. I—” you also could not say that your expenses were being handled by a demon. “—gained financial support. No, I will not elaborate.”

“Is that the clinical way of saying you got a sugar daddy?”

Technically, yeah. “Please be quiet.”

“No, actually.” YangYang huffed and you tried to make him explode with your mind. “And since you’re, like, jobless now, this means you can party!”

“You barely had any time for us ‘cause of your insane schedule,” Yunjin interjected from the sidelines. “and since once is coming up, it’d be nice to experience our own overachiever throwing back shots.”

You wrinkled your nose. Not that it was a no-no, but when was the last time you went out drinking and/or partying with friends anyway? Drinking became an on-and-off thing with Haechan (Jaemin and his human sometimes joining in) and was the closest thing to a fun night, so you at least kept your tolerance in check. Experiencing Seoul’s nightlife though, you couldn’t say there were plenty of memories, or any that stood out to you.

“Plus, it’s a Halloween costume party!” said YangYang as he sat down beside you. Renjun and Yunjin doing the same across you. “And I know you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity of judging shitty costumes.”

“Not shitty ones. The ones barely putting any effort into making it look like a costume, however...”

“Same difference,” YangYang waved you off. “Drinks are on me if you come. Your boy-toy can tag along if he wants. Maybe seeing you slutting it up in a nurse costume would change his mind and actually put a label on you two.”

Okay, one, you were pretty sure that ‘slutty nurse’ was so last season and has been since the late 2010s, and two—

“Absolutely not.”

YangYang’s extended invitation was straight-up refused, and thus the recurring irony of temptation personified resisting temptation, a.k.a, free drinks.

(Putting a label on it was obviously out of the question).

“And I can pay for our drinks just fine.” Haechan scoffed, pupils flashing a momentary carmine in irritation. If YangYang were here, the ‘sugar daddy’ debacle would no less be the topic of discussion and something that would probably get the demon to soften up. “YangYang can shove his money up his ass.”

Nevermind. You can already imagine an incubus and an imp duking it out in a dark alley somewhere. You’ve always wondered who’d win in a fight.

“So you’ll come?”

“No.”

“You’re so boring.”

And he was very adamant with his decision of not tagging along. In the days that led up to the party, Haechan’s answers had been firm variations of ‘no’s’. If you didn’t know any better, you would think the incubus was still jealous of the idea that YangYang, an imp, was friends with you (“he’s attached himself to you,” Haechan grumbled to himself. “I’m dragging him back to Hell myself.” You were way too baffled to even say anything) which then festered into immediate dislike.

“Oh, he’s totally jealous.” said Jaemin. Why you called Jaemin to complain about Haechan was honestly a new low for you, but he’s the one who knew the incubus on a deeper scale besides you, so. You made way more terrible decisions than this. “and petty too, I guess.”  

“He literally has no reason to be when I—” you gestured vaguely into the air, “you know…”

“Want him up your guts physically and emotionally?” Jaemin snorted.  “yeah I got that.”

“Why do you talk like that—you know what, nevermind. Point is, he’s being so unreasonable, and less fuckable the longer this goes on.”

“And you complain about the way I talk,” the demon laughed,  “Listen, Haechanie’s—he’s weird about feelings sometimes, I promise. It’s just… the mark. It says everything.”

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

“Ignorance is bliss,” Jaemin said, vaguely, with a charming smile that would usually distract anyone who only knew him on a surface level. You briefly fantasized reaching for him through the phone and strangling him to death. Knowing Jaemin though, he’d probably like it, the freak.

“What—asshole.” Jaemin hung up, FaceTime feed faded with his ridiculous contact image displayed, leaving you to ruminate your whirlwind of thoughts as you fell back onto the sheets.

The sun was almost always spoken with reverence. How its light breathed life into anything it touched. How its warmth was like a kiss from a lover—that sort of thing. Everyday, you wake up to the sun, one less warm than the other and as you lifted up your wrist to scrutinize Haechan’s sigil, its opaqueness against your skin was like facing an insult.

The technicalities of it all were almost headache inducing from how wishy-washy both demons were with it. All you knew was that the sun meant that you were Haechan’s. That was true in every way you could think of, but was he yours in return? You didn’t think he was. Maybe when you were tangled up in the sheets with him, but not when you were your own person anywhere else in apartment 66.

Haechan never did anything beyond imprinting his sigil onto your skin. Sex was just sex. It never went beyond a deeper, emotional scale and you would be lying if you said you were completely content with not having him wholly.

The first thing Haechan did as he burst into your bedroom was to laugh.

“You’re going in that?” he said through his giggles and doing a horrendous job at keeping them back even with a hand over his mouth. “nothing white, silky or lacy will cover the fact that you’ve let a demon corrupt you.”

“Fuck off.” You shot him an irritated look through the full-length mirror. “As if anyone knows I’ve been fucking a demon. An annoying one at that.”

“Ah-ah, angels aren’t supposed to cuss!”

“Get fucked,” you said, bored, and too focused on getting your make up right to pay attention to Haechan essentially eye-fucking you from the doorway. “It’s either this, or I go as a succubus. Turns out, I don’t want to be the very thing I hate.”

Which was, by the way, a total bold-faced lie where you could just tell Haechan wasn’t exactly buying it from the delighted smile he threw your way. Other than that, you looked cuter than if you had somehow settled with a cheap nurse gown. White, silky and lacy. Synonymous to anything inherently ‘angelic’ and something he would have fun in ruining to go with the whole concept of corrupting ‘the pure’.

“We would have matched, then.”

“We would,” you echoed. “But you aren’t even going.”

“I’m not,” he nodded and crossed the room to reach you. “At least I know you’re still coming home to me.”

It’s a mere fact, yet you’d like to think there was something more for you to pick apart. Warm hands perched on your hips and the way he seemed to take your reflection carefully, as if he was committing this dolled-up version of yours to memory with his gaze backlit by a strange amalgamation of emotions that were foreign to you. It wasn’t anything too alarming. If anything, all it did was make your heart skip a beat. A sweet face with eyes so intense you might as well drown in them. How could it not?

“You do live here.” Tilting your head, you gauged your own costume with your mouth drawn into a thin line, steeling yourself before you faced him and took on a coy approach. “Are you sure this is not convincing you enough?”

Haechan hummed.

Well…

If it were up to him, you wouldn’t even make it out of the bedroom, but he did commend your method of persuading him to come. A low chuckle rumbled from within the incubus as he was pushed onto the bed with you climbing on his lap and your lips locked with his. It was more tongue than anything else as Haechan took the reins. Slick, slow, but with purpose like he was speaking through each wet slide of his tongue.

You gently pushed him by the chest, separating with a loud smack and a deep exhale from you, “who’s convincing who again?”

“Me,” Haechan said with no preamble, dragging his lips down from your cheek to your throat. “This is me convincing you—crazy sex with me,” it’s ridiculous to think his proposition was sort of working. A very tempting offer right when his sharp canines teasingly poked at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, making you shudder. It’s what you were asking for, wasn’t it? Now he’s offering it on a silver platter with no hesitation. “or your dumb Halloween party? Take your pick.”

Decision making was the very last thing your mind could do at the moment when Haechan was hell-bent on keeping you where you were, and you weren’t really resisting him because if anything, you were making it a whole lot easier. Fingers tangled in the hair curling at his nape, a leg hooked over his hip, it won’t be long until you give in and spend the long Halloween night with him. 

Then the doorbell rang.

“That’s Yunjin,” you mumbled against his lips. “I really gotta go—are you hard from just kissing? Even that’s a new low for you.”

There’s a flush high on Haechan’s cheeks when he reluctantly pulled away with a pinched expression, his mouth smudged with your lipstick and for a moment, the choice of staying weighed heavy with the benefit of painting cherry red marks on his beautiful skin.

“Can you blame me?” Heachan chewed on his lip before he huffed when the doorbell rang again, a petulant pout sitting on his lips. “The silk looks so easy to rip off and it’s an actual crime that you’re leaving me.”

“You are such a dude,” you laughed, a little winded as you pushed him off and rushed towards the mirror to assess the damage. “Ugh, you smudged my lipstick and like, a bit of my face makeup,” you groaned which was immediately replied with a click of a tongue.

“You’re the one who pushed me on the bed, so… hardly my fault.”

Heat crept up your neck, “semantics.”

“It’s really not that hard to admit that you want me. Your actions say enough.” 

“Maybe it’s just your mag—”

“It’s not my magic, and it’s not my sigil doing it either.”

Well, that excuse was good while it lasted. You couldn’t think of anything else to say and so you settled with rolling your eyes as your version of raising your white flag as you made work with fixing up yourself, ignoring Haechan’s leering.

“You are actually so bad at being honest,” he complained as he got up and trudged towards you. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

You arched an eyebrow, but let him wrap his arms around your waist. “Are you saying I’m just a pretty face?”

“Darling, that’s an entirely different sentence.” He sighed, hooking his chin onto your shoulder as he squeezed. “I didn’t say that. I’m just saying that you can always tell me anything and I mean anything.”

“Anything?” You repeated and he nodded, earnest. “Okay, would you mind distracting Yunjin for a bit? She gets impatient.”

You yelped when Haechan nipped your ear out of nowhere. “Not what I meant,” he grumbled, but did as he was told anyways.

“Hey,” Haechan caught your wrist before you were out of the door, Yunjin waiting outside. “Stay safe, alright?”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d just come, y’know.”

The incubus pulled you back with a snort, “you’re never letting me live that down, huh?”

“Never.” He rolled his eyes, leaning down to give you a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

“Girl, you are beyond saving,” Yunjin giggled as she looped her arm through yours right after you pulled the door close. “C’mon, before you start clawing through your own door.”

Haechan was definitely onto something when he said he was a homebody above anything else.

That’s one of the few things you had in common with the incubus in spite of your busy schedule built around your academics, clubs, committees and your tutoring sessions and coming home to a place that radiated warmth was a great compromise from having, more or less, busy days. Perhaps it was the reason why you felt so attached to apartment ‘66’.

And the one time you had willingly traded comfort for a fun night out was where you found yourself in deep shit.

To be fair, the night started off great. This wasn’t your usual scene as you much preferred something a little more intimate rather than being suffocated by wriggling bodies, but the place was nice; one of the more upscale clubs and you supposed you were getting your time’s worth from YangYang making good on his promise. Free shit was the best shit and in no time, every single one of you drank like everything was water. Even the dubious mix of shots you’d normally avoid were thrown back with little resistance.

At some point in the night, right after you had your fill of dancing with your friends, all of you went your separate ways which you had no idea how that even happened when you had practically stuck yourself to Yunjin.

Now, you were completely alone and maybe you were drunker than you had expected to be, because somehow, the people wearing costumes of the creepy crawly creatures from all sorts of tales and legends looked a little too real for comfort. It’s either these were insanely talented art students dabbling in prosthetics for fun, or the guy that just walked by was actually a troll, since, of course supernaturals wouldn’t shy away from a party that sort of celebrated them and the dead. 

(Also, you didn’t think anyone would willingly consider ‘troll’ as a costume choice, but to each their own).

You were buzzing from head to toe, eyelids becoming heavier by the second as your vision started to blur around the edges, the drowsiness slowly creeping in. You’ve always been a sleepy drunk, chatty at times too, but there wasn’t anyone in close proximity that was deserving of your rambling. None of your friends were in sight and the eerie feeling of being watched caused goosebumps to raise on your skin.

And this wasn’t remotely close to what you’ve experienced back home before you were made aware of Haechan. While the incubus you were essentially playing an R-rated version of house with meant no harm, this—whatever this was—felt sinister.

Everywhere you went, the lingering feeling of eyes stayed on your person. A prey being sized up by an apex predator hidden in plain sight and it was so apparent that some sobriety decided to grace you, pushing you to try and call your friends. Try being the keyword here because of-fucking-course none of them had sober enough braincells to pick up a damn phone call. So you did the next best thing: leave.

Everything in you was screaming for you to leave. Do not, under any other circumstances, look back even if this one guy who you bumped into was dressed as some socially acceptable furry. The dog ears were too real to be a headband, not to mention the wagging tail.

Which brings you back in the present: you being in deep shit.

In your defense, you did run out of there like you’ve never had run before. But obviously, you weren’t as fast as you needed to be. A careless miscalculation and now you were trapped—by the very thing you were warned about.

The brick walls dug into the back of your head and your shoulder blades as you let out a hiss, teeth gritting as this monster wrapped its claws around your throat and pushed you further into the jagged wall.

“It’s like you humans have a death wish.” 

You were barely a step past the nearest alley from the club when you were roughly dragged into the dank space, mind all over the place with an escape plan barely formed. Actually, you don’t think you can come up with one right now. Or ever.

“I’m a little hungry anyways.”

Okay so maybe you took back the whole ‘not being scared of most things normal people were scared of’ thing because you were, in fact, scared of dying. In an alley of all places. Terror. Sheer, unadulterated terror washed over you like a bucket of ice-cold water. Frozen, unable to do anything but let the claws leave scratches on your skin that you might as well be staring Death right in the face.

Death was a burly man—a head taller than you at most. Death was nothing, yet everything where it was kind of hard to discern just what he was. The alley was dark, but he was darker from the shadows acting like second skin as its inky haze rose and fell, tendrils made of smoke reaching for nothing in particular. The very same thing it would do when Haechan took on this exact form. Then it all clicked.

Death to you was a demon.

The kind you were not at all familiar with. The kind you knew had eyes that glowed with warmth, this one burned with the intent to hurt. Maim. Kill. The one you come home to every day greeted you with a smile just as warm as the sunset that peaked through the curtains he bought, this one grinned like the monsters parents would tell naughty children about, teeth razor sharp that were enough to tell you that he’s meant to use them to rip you apart.

The one you would willingly break yourself apart for breathed life into you. This one was about to take yours and then break you apart by his own hands—by his own claws. 

Haechan would never, this monster would and just like Death, it didn't wait for anything and its claws sunk into your side, ripping out a pained scream from your lungs as you struggled fighting back against. The monster only laughed and laughed, and laughed until hot tears streamed down your cheeks from the searing pain.

“That’s right, human,” he cackled. “Scream.”

God, did it hurt. The pain was unimaginable that you couldn’t even think of anything to compare it to and—Oh God. Haechan. How the Hell were you going to explain all this when you’re dead? Knowing him, it’s more than likely he’d avenge you, but how will he when he doesn't even know who had done this to you? It’s not like he could ask Satan for a list of all demons who were out on Halloween night, preying on innocent humans.

You would have laughed right at this moment honestly. Funny that even death could not stop you from thinking of the demon waiting for you at home. Maybe you should have just stayed in with him to save him all the trouble. Maybe this would have been the night where you told him he wasn’t just the incubus you’d call for when you had the extra energy to burn in bed. Maybe this would have been the night where you would confess that you’ve grown to care for him more than you should have.

Your mind called for Haechan. Your heart called for Haechan. Everything in you called for Haechan that you didn’t even realize you were actually calling out for him, much to the monster’s confusion as he stared at the glowing spot on your wrist.

With each second passing, you grew weaker and weaker, yet you still had a stubborn grip on consciousness because 1.) the claws stuck into your side hurt like a fucking bitch that you simply refused to pass out and 2.) If you were going to die, you at least hoped that the universe listened to you one last time and granted you a few extra minutes with Haechan to say your goodbyes.

Then the strangest thing happened.

Call it divine intervention, if you will, because one second, the demon was right in front of you. Tall and menacing and was so close to going in for the jugular where his breath ghosted against your décolleté, then he was toppled over by a blurry mass of smoke the next, like the monster’s burly build was nothing. The biggest ones fall the hardest after all.

It hurt less now. Barely bearable on the pain scale as you sagged against the brick wall, sliding all the way down until you were sitting with a hand pressing tightly against the bleeding wound once you remembered a post online that it would help to buy some time until you were brought to the hospital or something.

The scuffling then caught your attention, followed by curses and shouting in a language you didn’t understand. Though you knew enough to tell that both were angry, Haechan being the angriest you have ever heard him.

“Haechan,” you gasped, taking in the sight with widened eyes of the incubus lowered to a crouch and having the monster in a chokehold.

Both their backs were turned to you and only Haechan had the capacity to peer over his shoulder and there you saw it: pure rage contorting his face with his mouth drawing into an ugly sneer at the state of you. White slowly being stained by the redness of blood just as the shadows rapidly enveloped Haechan’s figure with your attacker struggling to break free from his hold.

“Close your eyes.”

It was demanded by a voice that was not his own, but a myriad of voices of all ranges entangled that left no room for any argument and so you did as he asked. Nothing came after that. A few seconds delay at most before the scuffling against the ground resumed, the same enraged snapping from your attacker as Haechan hissed and fought back with some choice words and expletives you haven't heard of ever.

Haechan spoke again, rage still present in the same unknown language with a level of finality. Almost like a threat and promise molded into one until the monster’s incessant squabbling was put to a stop after a sickening snap, loud even with the Halloween party goers littering the streets at this time of night that it made you flinch, your eyes still remaining closed. You just knew you wouldn’t want to see whatever Haechan did to the thing.

A wet and heavy thump. Followed by an exasperated sound that was somewhat of a mix between a huff and sigh. At the sound of his shoes dragging against the cement, still you kept your eyes shut and it wasn’t until warm hands cradled your damp cheeks did you finally open them.

Even in the dimness of the alley, Haechan still retained that unnatural glow to him. Beautiful, hauntingly so that the splatters of blood across his face did nothing but elevate it all. His eyebrows pinched together in concern as he took your hand that was pressed against the spot where you bled and cursed softly at the gnarly sight.

“Next time, I’m coming with you.” You could hear his voice tremble, but you didn’t comment on it and instead let him gather you up in his arms, minding your side as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Hell, you scared me. I was with Jaemin and out of nowhere, I started feeling anxious. I couldn’t breathe and—and I felt like I was stabbed.”

Your own eyebrows pinched at the information too. Those were everything you felt during that unwanted encounter with that demon that you sure hoped was gone. “How’d you even find me?” You didn’t think he would find you in some gross alley in Gangnam by pure intuition alone.

“This,” Haechan said as the blunt edge of his nail traced the inked sun on your wrist. “My sigil isn’t just for show, y’know. It’s like a warp point. I even heard you calling out to me. You sounded like you were in trouble.” 

Well, yes. That was obvious. “I’m just glad I didn’t become, like, a midnight snack. Thanks to the sun acting as an AirTag, basically.” You chuckled, leaning your head against the brick wall. “With extra features.”

Haechan laughed, softly, and leaned in to press his lips to your cheek. “Yeah, basically.”

That at least improved his mood. You weren’t entirely used to the very rare instances where Haechan had to be serious. It was strange to see him like that when you would always leave it up to him, lifting up the mood whenever you thought was necessary. Perhaps you and your near death experience was too much even for him. That maybe he did care for you just as much as you did him and making him laugh was the least you could do. 

“Grandma was right.” you joked, cracking a smile just as he assessed the damage. “The city isn’t too safe.” 

“It really isn’t, but you have me. You’ll always have me.” and he spoke with so much promise, gaining some distance just enough for him to stare into your eyes, amber trading in for a deep carmine. And it was only right to believe him. “Whenever and wherever, I will be there when you need me.”

“You’re sweet,” you smiled, then winced when reality came crashing with the stinging pain in your side. “but can we get out of here? Do I need to go to the hospital, or can you somehow heal me with your freaky demon magic?”

Haechan then gets this constipated sort of look. “I can’t exactly heal humans. I can only slow down the residual magic that fucker left from spreading and—um…”

“And? Why are you hesitating.” The incubus pursed his lips, eyes straying to the side. “That’s not good. That’s never good. You never hesitate when you talk to me.”

He chewed on his lower lip before answering and you did not like the look on his face. “From a scale of 1-10, how pissed will you be if I tell you that you could die if we don’t get that out of you?”

“A solid 9.5,” you said almost immediately. “Get this shit out of me right now.”

“Right,” the pain dwindled down to something less painful, but still rather uncomfortable as Haechan’s glowing hand pressed against the wound. “Can you try calling Renjun?”

“I tried earlier. Not sure if he’ll pick up now.”

“Damn. How about Chenle?”

“I’m… not actually sure, but I’ll try.” You paused, suspicious. “Why though?”

“You’re not gonna believe this.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” you moaned in slight discomfort as Haechan set you on the bed. “You’re telling me these two are witches? How do you even know Renjun?”

“I’ve known him since I moved here for college. He supplies me with the weirder shit I need for my potions,” Renjun appeared like he either swallowed something sour, or he actually felt guilty hiding this from you and leaving you all alone. A stark juxtaposition from Chenle, visibly buzzing with excitement. “You didn’t tell me you were sleeping with an incubus.”

“Aw babe,” said incubus cooed. “you talk to your friends about us?”

You grunted, lifting up your top to reveal the still bloody wound. “Now is really not the time."

“It’s a good thing you called right away, or else you’d be fucked to Hell and back,” Chenle chirped and the way he looked between you and Haechan knowingly in a way that warmed up your cheeks. “Then again, guess you already have been.” He grinned, almost cat-like.

You stared at the ceiling. It’s like everyone around you had no concept of what a verbal filter was. “Are you gonna heal me or not?”

Chenle got a smack on the head for that, whining softly as Renjun retracted his hand. “Sorry about him. He’s my apprentice.” The older witch said, almost resigned and folded both of his sleeves up. “Explains the whole transferee thing. He couldn’t bother to wait—may I?” Renjun gestured to your wound just as he jerked his head for Chenle to do the same.

“Go crazy. I think it’s catching up to me.”

You were starting to slur your words. Not to mention how weak you were starting to feel that you couldn’t even wiggle your limbs. You were burning up and with the panic on Haechan’s face no less, Renjun and Chenle got to work. Both of their hands glowing a bright green with Renjun pressing his fingertips along the tender skin.

“That is not very pleasant,” you said, grimacing at the sensation of tiny needles poking and prodding along your side. “Yeah, no. I think I’m gonna pass out.”

“Sleep,” Haechan stressed, a hand stroking your calf. “You’ll feel less like shit in the morning.”

“Fine. Don’t go anywhere or I’ll kill you.” You mumbled, fading as the magic continued to cleanse you of whatever vile magic that was. Maybe that’s why it kind of hurts. Renjun and Chenle’s combined magic are technically cleaning it out.

Haechan laughed, smiling sweetly. “Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”

Renjun gagged. “Disgusting.”

That was all you needed to hear, and so you slept.

Contrary to popular belief, you were never a morning person. Otherwise, you would have done something about it if you weren’t so fixed with the overloaded schedule you had been following since the start of your college career.

This morning wasn’t safe from your contempt either as last night’s happenings came flooding back into your head. The chase, the attack and somehow getting saved in the nick of time. The panic from narrowly avoiding death from weird demon magic then Renjun and Chenle coming in clutch with sucking that shit out with their own purified magic and healing the stab wounds.

All in all, wild night. Never doing that again unless Haechan tagged along to protect you from the elements (see: hungry-for-humans supernaturals).

Though you supposed the mentioned incubus made this morning a little worth waking up. Your body was almost out of commission from how it aches, but your eyes worked perfectly fine. Maybe a little crusty, but even the eye crust couldn’t block how gorgeous Haechan could be underneath the warm glow of the late morning sun. It was almost unreal, like a dream come to life.

Heachan’s bare back was to you, sun-drenched and moles generously kissing his broad shoulders and down the length of his smooth back as if a past lover had done everything in their power to mark the love they had for him in small and permanent little dots. Though your admiration had to cut itself short when you had caught sight of something that you hadn’t noticed before right as the covers shifted downwards to show more of him.

Just at the top of his boxer briefs sat two dark lines that were at least half a centimeter wide and a couple of inches long—the length of your palm perhaps, sitting on the opposite side of his spine where you’d think the dimples of his back would have been.

Curious, you reached out, only to be stopped by Haechan catching your wrist.

“Getting handsy with me already?” Haechan inhaled a slow breath before yawning as he stretched and shifted to lie on his back, your wrist still in his hand now resting on the bare skin of his stomach. Smooth and warm with sleep that you unconsciously moved closer, his other hand tracing your spine. “Good morning to you too.” He said with a sleepy smile, eyes curved like crescent moons as he gazed down at you simply watching him—adoring him in his sleepy state.

Words simply could not find their way to you at the moment, so you only managed a hum, rubbing your nose against his skin.

He sighed at the feeling, “what were you doing?”

“Just looking. You have lots of moles. Kinda like constellations,” you mused, which pulled out an amused huff from Haechan, letting go of your wrist for you to wrap an arm around his waist. “There are also these… lines above your ass? Cuts? Scars? What’s that about?”

“This is the least sexiest conversation we’ve had so far.”

“Stop deflecting,” you said, placing a hand on his chest for your chin to rest on, scrutinizing the creeping hesitance on his person. “and tell me what they are.”

It went quiet. Silence filling in the spaces seemed to be a frequent thing now as you watched Haechan process everything that had transpired within the last five minutes with his face. Thoughts easily floating up to the surface by each pinch of his eyebrows, or twitch of his lips and then settling with a conceding sigh, peering down at you with little hesitance that soon crumbled into nothing when he was met by your own resilience. 

“Up for a little bit of show and tell?”

That was going to be a bit one-sided. You had nothing to show. Nothing unique in that regard, that is, as you were, in every sense of the word, human. Painfully human. Comparing yourself with the likes of Haechan who had been part of countless tales told throughout centuries was like pitting a diamond (Haechan) against a sheet of metal (you). Like, yeah, both had their own uses, but diamonds were on a higher, more exclusive pedestal and out of reach. 

And Haechan was just that to you. Out of reach, and yet somehow, he had no qualms closing the distance himself. As if it was natural for him to be this close to the point of considering the idea that you are simply the extensions of each other.

At the very least, you were right in assuming ‘show and tell in the bedroom’ was a one-sided thing. You were also right that Haechan would take this whole thing in stride; being the sole presenter for this morning’s shenanigans involving the very reason why he wouldn’t fuck you until you were a moaning, whimpering and crying mess. A miracle, really, that you’ve managed to survive the unwanted ‘Only Oral October’ challenge the incubus had going on.

Golden skin stretched miles over Haechan’s lithe and slim figure. Moles and freckles carelessly, yet artfully speckled along the expanse of sunshine while you laid on your back—manhandled to do so—simply admiring the incubus sitting on his haunches between the spread of your thighs without the faintest clue of what there was to show. You were already aware of the horns and the arrowhead tail languidly swishing behind him. What else was there?

“What are you showing me exactly?”

“Just… wait.” his lips pressed together into a thin line. “I’m mentally preparing myself for this one.”

Okay, that was very ominous, much like how Jaemin tip-toed around the conversation pertaining to Haechan’s prior incapability of sticking his dick into your hole and you were kind of getting antsy with the way he was dragging this out, gatekeeping his everything from you.

You ended up pouting and Haechan, who usually would fold at the sight of it, only narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t that supposed to be me? You look like you’re trying to take a shit.”

Haechan sputtered, “am not! You’re so annoying.”

“What can I say? To be fucked, is to be changed.”

“I don’t think that’s how the saying goes,” he shook his head, face settling into absolute seriousness. “You sure about this?”

A click of your tongue. “Don’t make me beg.”

There’s an odd shine to his eyes, but it was gone the moment Haechan straightened his back as he stayed quiet. It was faint, but the hissing sound gradually grew louder just as a cloud of smoke materialized somewhere behind him. The smoke grew considerably darker and darker until it was the same inky black you’ve grown accustomed to whenever Haechan donned it as second skin, gradually becoming corporeal as it took on the shape—multiple shapes of something long, dark as the night sky with a sheen to them as they elongated above Haechan’s head. Writhing and curling in different lengths and girths merely floating about, as if they were waiting for the incubus’ instructions.

Though one of them seemed to have a mind of its own, Haechan appeared to be aware of it, the very picture of exasperation as it wriggled closer to you.

“Oh that feels weird,” you mumbled in wonder, watching a tendril, as thick as two of your fingers combined, wound around your wrist, palm and a finger. The feel of it was strange. Warm, velvety smooth and it was slicked with a viscosity that was foreign to you, but it made the glide easier against your skin all the same. “What are you exactly?”

Haechan easily chuckled at the question. Probably a frequent subject among his previous conquests. “A nightmare coming to life? I don’t think you’ll like me as much for what I truly am under all of this. While this human form earns the much needed attention, it’s also a good distraction from all this too,” he said, gesturing to the rest of the ghostly limbs inching toward you.

You hummed, agreeing with the attention part, and particularly feeling a little honest, “you're a beautiful nightmare, I can give you that,” and you can’t help but laugh at his preening. He knew he was gorgeous in every sense of it, but this was Haechan and you know of him to be a bit of a whore for attention. “As a distraction? I don’t think your face can distract me from these,” and it was then did the tendrils of smoke found purchase around your limbs. 

“It’s just like being surrounded by more of you and—oh.” You stuttered to a stop when another particularly handsy tentacle slithered under your shirt, winding around the fullness of your right breast and pulling a sharp gasp when the slick tip rubbed and flicked at the hardened bud. “Fuck. That’s still so fucking weird. You aren’t even doing anything but—” the thought was cut off by a whine of your own and another one joined the fray, giving your other tit the same treatment just as Haechan bunched up your shirt to reveal the smooth skin being tainted by darkness underneath. “Do they—do they have a mind of their own?”

It took Haechan a beat too long to answer, visibly taken by his extra limbs exploring your bare torso. “Sometimes. But I’m in full control now.”

Right on cue, the tendrils creeped up your thighs like climbing plants with the goal to cover everything in sight, only these acted more as sentient ropes that spread your legs wider to accommodate the incubus. This was a position you were accustomed to as Haechan did try to have you as frequent as you’d let him, yet you couldn’t help but feel shy. Embarrassed at the fact that there wasn't much for you to do in lessening the exposure with the tentacles keeping your legs in place, and you weren’t even stripped down to your barest.

With the way Haechan’s heated gaze raked the length of your body spread across the sheets, you could just tell his own imagination ran the wildest it could be, what with his eyes essentially undressing you. Haechan then leaned forward, close enough that you could feel his breath hot on your lips, as the rest of the smoky tendrils followed and attached themselves to your arms resting on either side of your head.

With how they wound tighter around your forearms, you had a faint idea on what was to come. And it wasn’t like you were against relinquishing all control for Haechan to take over, to do what he pleased. Nonetheless, the thought still had your heart rate picking up. This was new and you were starting to think that maybe you bit off more than you could chew with the subtle insistence of wanting Haechan to fuck you hard enough that you’d cry.

You just didn’t think tentacles would be involved. An unlikely variable you never would have guessed to be the center of the demon’s reluctance. No wonder he was wishy-washy with his reasons, they looked like something out of an all-consuming nightmare that most people would have been put off by. A beautiful one if it included their host.

As if sensing your troubles—his sigil’s doing, definitely—a warm palm cradled your jaw as Haechan dipped down for a sweet kiss to soothe you.

“I won’t do anything you aren’t comfortable with,” he reassured, pulling back. “just think of them as extra pairs of arms holding you down.”

“Well, more of you to get used to, then,” you said with a wry smile and finding a little bit of comfort when he puts more of his weight onto you for another kiss, mumbling, “I can take it.”

And so you did.

One, that is. Baby steps, as Haechan put it as one fucked in and out of your cunt in place of his fingers. The feeling was an odd mix of familiar and strange. Familiar as it did the job of pistoning in and out of you like those machines in porn (not that you had any experience besides the demon’s long and knobby fingers doing basically the exact same thing). Strange because it wasn’t what a dildo nor an actual cock would feel like, but fuck if it didn’t feel good. Mind-blowingly so. The considerable length reached places you nor Haechan’s fingers couldn’t within their limits, proved by the guttural groan punched out of you when the tip had accidentally bumped against your cervix.

But even you could run out of patience. This was literally just an elevated version of what you and Haechan had been doing. Time and time again, it was all basically foreplay and you’ve had enough.

This time, you wanted the real thing.

You wanted to be split on Haechan’s cock that hung heavily in between the mouthwatering honey thighs if it’s the last thing you’ll ever have.

“Want you,” you managed to get out between the stray moans and whimpers that fell from your parted lips.

“Hm?” If you were any less than horny, the wicked grin he had would have been smacked off. “But you do have me, see?” He cooed, thumb stopping from rubbing circles on your clit for his fingers wriggling in to join alongside the thin tentacle making work of your pussy. “Are you saying this isn’t enough?”

You shook your head, almost frantic as one of your arms struggled to break free from the tendrils. “Want this,” you stressed, reaching for his dick. The head was almost a deep angry purple from how hard he was and it was beyond you how his self-control lasted this long. Did he even feel pleasure when the extra limb was doing all the work? “Want you.”

“Say that again?” He egged on further, like it wasn’t obvious that he was just as desperate. You knew him enough to see right through the facade he puts up. “You want what, sweet girl?”

“Want you. Want you to fuck your cock in me. Please.”

“You say the sweetest things, human. It’s adorable,” He cooed. “and it’s just right that I give you everything you ask,” and Haechan sealed his promise with a filthy kiss. Harsh and wet that you were certain a mix of your spit drooled down your chin, only for him to lap it up with his tongue and make a mess of your mouth again.

“No more foreplay,” you said as you somehow managed to keep him from sticking his tongue down your throat again. “Seriously, that’s all we’ve been doing before. I can take it.”

And just like the very night things had escalated in the sexual sense, Haechan inclined his head and smiled.

“That night, I said that I wanted you to ride me.”

The nights of all nights. How could you forget? It had imprinted a very clear image into the seams of your brain that you’d occasionally daydream about the various possible outcomes if you hadn’t been rudely interrupted.

“Think you can do that for me now?”

Everything went by so fast that you weren’t given the chance to take a breath. In a blink of an eye, Haechan had both of your clothes removed and traded places with you by the guidance of the pitch black tendrils and the ones winding up the length of your arms loosened to let you bend forward and capture his lips just because. It always felt nice to kiss him, and you wouldn’t shy away from cashing one in at a crucial time to give yourself a little more time to brace yourself.

It took the both of you to get to the real thing. A team effort with you reaching in between your legs to align his cock to your center while Haechan and co. kept you steady with his hands clutching at your waist so tight that you were sure was going to leave finger-shaped bruises to fade over time. Quickly if and if the demon kept his hands from wandering to the tender spots, but you can worry about the next time when there are more pressing matters at hand.

The sound Haechan made was almost inhuman just as a gasp flew past your mouth the second the glossy thick head of his cock breached your pussy. Inch by inch, you took him in as carefully as you could as it was an uncomfortable stretch for sure, given the experience you had gagging on it one too many times. Most of them being on pure impatience on your part and you weren’t going to risk a possible injury tonight. But just as the many times before, pleasure gradually overtook the discomfort.

“Oh my God,” you moaned, a high sound as you threw your head back. Nails digging into the meat of Haechan’s pecs as you rocked yourself to suck him in impossibly deeper, almost to the point of carving his shape into you and ruining yourself for any other man.

(You already did anyway. Developing real scary feelings for a literal Hell spawn).

“Oh, you’re into that?” Haechan quipped, hissing when you squeezed around him for his cheek. “I can be for you. How many times have you gotten on your knees for me again?”

Did he really have to antagonize you when you were milking him for what he’s worth? “Clearly not enough if you’re still talking.”

Haechan soon lost all sense of eloquence that should have been fit for a century-something-old demon once settling on a pace where the most you would get from was an incoherent sentence or two that you were sure were meant to be praises. Though you figured the pretty picture Haechan painted himself with the pleasure filled contort of his face was enough to say that you were doing something right. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be right behind him feeling blissed out yourself.

It was everything you could ask for really. The delicious girth of his cock stretching your cunt, rubbing against the sweet spots of your gummy walls had you sobbing his name when he would meet your movements in the middle. Skin slapping against skin leaving a mild tingling sensation from each bounce.

The heady pleasure only increased from there as the same pair of tendrils that toyed with your breast resumed with their earlier ministrations of squeezing their fullness and flicking your nipples. A sneaky one, thinnest of them all had joined in on the fun too. Wrapping around Haechan’s dick like a coil and it wasn’t until you felt the ridges from your descent on his length did you even realize what had happened. Either way, it still felt good and soon enough, something warm simmered beneath your navel.

“Ah—Haechan,” you gasped, your movements becoming more frantic each time the combination of him and the tendril rubbed against your sweet spot. “I think… close,” you slurred, losing all strength as you fell forward, almost breaking your nose on his collarbone if it weren't for the tendrils keeping their steady hold around you. “Can’t,” it came out as a whine breathed against Haechan’s burning skin. “Please.”

That might have just triggered something in him, a visceral reaction of the demon growling—a sound that definitely wasn’t possible for a human to make—as his presence became so imposing, smothering you to the point that all of your senses were filled to the brim by everything Haechan. He wrestled you onto your back as if you were nothing more than a ragdoll with the back of your knees hooked onto his sturdy shoulders and in no time, you were effectively brought to tears by the brutal pistoning of his hips.

You were steadily growing overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations that ignited a simmering fire that spread underneath your skin. Mouth curling around each syllable of the demon’s name as you wailed with back bowing against the bed when Haechan angled his hips, punching out a loud cry, bordering on a scream.

“Shh,” Haechan cooed as his thumb pressed onto your lower teeth to pry your mouth open, eyes wild and a wicked grin plastered on his face from the incoherent state that you were in. “You’re so loud. Our walls aren’t exactly soundproof, baby. I think I’m gonna have to shut you up if you can’t do it yourself.”

How? Was what you were going to ask if his thumb wasn’t pressing down onto your tongue, drool pooling in your mouth in almost an instant. Something else prodded against your lower lip and as you looked down the same two-fingered thick tendril slid into your mouth to replace his thumb, Haechan delighted as you moaned around the slick appendage shallowly thrusting in and out past your swollen lips.

You felt so full. Both your mouth and your cunt stuffed full that you thought it was a little fucked that you were enjoying the one rubbing against the flat of your tongue. The mysterious slick that coated it was surprisingly sweet, matching the citrusy sweet scent lingering around you 24/7.

You’ve never felt so fucked out ever in your life. This couldn’t even be compared to the past rounds of sex you’ve had with humans. This was an entirely different league on it’s own and fucking Hell, you were officially ruined. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to feel the same level of satisfaction from a human anymore, not when Haechan was capable of stimulating you in multiple ways by his own volition. For a brief moment, you couldn’t help but feel a little envious of the people who had had him like this.

It was all so good. Too good, yet so overwhelming in every way and it wasn’t long before you wailed to completion, body seizing up as your vision whitened and leaving Haechan to chase his own release.

“You weren’t lying when you said you could take it,” Haechan chuckled, sounding breathless as his hand pressed down onto your navel to punch out a groan from you. “I’m so sorry for taking so long.” He soothed just as your mouth was freed so he could kiss you in apology.

He stayed that way. Close, ever so close that you were essentially breathing into each other’s mouth as Haechan’s thrusts grew frantic, almost animalistic until he pressed so tightly against your skin to spill thick ribbons of his cum into you, filling you up the brim that it leaked out even through the tight fit of his cock, wincing at the mess your sheets would soon be subjected to.

For a while, the only sounds that filled the bedroom were you both catching your breaths in sync, yours more labored while Haechan was more controlled.

“How are you feeling?” He asked quietly moments later when he thought you had come down from the floaty headspace you were in. “Wasn’t too much?”

“Perfect,” you sighed, tucking yourself closer into him. “Just perfect.”

“Donghyuck.”

“Hm?”

Haechan’s magic had once again proved to be a useful asset in this home. It didn’t take that much time for both of you to recuperate from being fucked within an inch of your life, though he stuck to more traditional methods when it came to taking care of you. The sheets were decidedly changed with his magic, while he took it upon himself to clean both of you up with a hot shower where you might have fallen asleep once or twice.

It was a few minutes after noon. Lunch was had and you were sprawled across the couch where you had been made into a human cushion by Haechan, laying on top of him and simply basking in the stillness of the apartment until he spoke.

“Donghyuck was my name as a human.” He said, tilting his head with a smile void of anything that made him devious in nature. Something warm and sweet and reserved just for you. “Before becoming this. There’s this saying that knowing a demon’s name gives you power over it and I—I marked you. Made you mine without asking first and I think it’s fair that I give you my name. Give you me in return.”

That gave you a start, stiffening as you stared at him with owlish eyes and not quite believing the possible implications.

“Does that mean—”

“I am yours, as much as you are mine,” he said, warm palms holding your cheeks as he sat up to meet you in the middle. “As long as you want me to be.”

There was much more left to be said, certainly, but the way Haechan—Donghyuck kissed you so deeply as if you were his only life-line, pouring every thought and possible feelings that paralleled yours into each swipe of his tongue was enough. You had all the time in the world with him, an actual talk could wait.

For now, as you let yourself be wrapped into his embrace, this was enough.

Special thanks to Aria, Moon and Aeriel for putting up with my ramblings about this fic and sharing their ideas! You have no idea how much of help u have been and I’m very thankful for you guys letting me talk my shit 🫶🏼💖 and thank you for reaching the end of this fic! Especially to the ones who asked to be on the taglist! I know it was a longer wait than expected so I really do hope it was worth it 💖

TAGLIST: @jaylaxies @hoondrop @ajayke-reads @justalildumpling @dammit-jjk @maiisweet @jenodreamer @hancafe @gyulfriend @pleasetellmenow @cutiepeas @jaehyunpeachyy @alethea-moon @ohmyhuenings @sexygrass @favjake @02mrk @seulkikiii @notevenheretbh1 @rum-gone-why @minkyuncutie @crzns @saythenameseventeen178 @nae-vm @90s-belladonna @hismine @learnthisfeeling @taerifin @viciousdarlings @strawbabyz @novawon @surrealxox @xenkimmie @lanadreamie

SMILE FOR THE CAMERA

PAIRING | haechan x (f) reader x jisung (ft. a reoccurring renjun who’s mainly there for suspenseful purposes)

GENRE/WARNINGS | smut, cheating, unprotected sex, dom!haechan, switch!jisung, switch!reader, jisung is a virgin, degradation, praise, spanking, pussy slapping, sexting, rough kink, edging, really bad 3some scenes bc I am terrible @ balancing attention, oral (both m/f receiving), jisung acts kinda (or extremely) invasively, if I missed smth lmk

SUMMARY | upon accidentally finding a video of you and your boyfriend haechan doing some very sexual things, jisung knows that he shouldn’t watch it. he knows that it would be an extreme invasion of privacy, but he’s unable to control himself when he sees the thumbnail. so he settles for only watching 30 seconds. except, 30 seconds turns into 30 minutes, and by then he’s buried himself too deep into a life-changing situation—or in which jisung’s terrible at keeping secrets.

WORD COUNT | 19.8k of pure filfth (what the fuck is wrong with me)

EXTRA | feedback is appreciated!

Fuck.

Jisung knows that there’s a plethora and a half reasons why this is a terrible idea. For one, it’s an invasion of privacy. The thumbnail is explicit, leaving zero room for ignorance—the bare, nearly naked sight of you and Haechan blankets over the screen, and if that isn’t enough to tell him that this isn’t something he was supposed to see, then the rather intimate position you and your boyfriend are in is quite the message.

He didn’t mean to find it. He wasn’t searching, wasn’t looking—not for this video in particular anyways. He was simply going through the camera roll in search of something else, and happened to stumble across what is so obviously you and Haechan’s sextape. If he had known that there was inappropriate things on there, Jisung would have asked for permission before he went on Haechan’s laptop. Yet the shocking discovery has him filled to the brim with curiosity, despite him knowing it would be wrong.

Thirty seconds. I can watch thirty seconds, then cut it off, he thinks. What’s thirty seconds out of a minutes-long video? You and Haechan can go for hours, the sounds you make whenever you stay the night at the dorm keep Jisung up long enough to know that. A part of him doesn’t mind since you sound so sweet, and he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to take Haechan’s place, to have you crying his name. No, he shakes his head. He doesn’t need to think like that. It’s bad enough that he’s watching this video. So he looks around the room a couple times, even though no one’s home except Renjun, and he’s asleep. Then he reluctantly presses play, turning up the volume a couple notches. He’d never miss the opportunity to hear you.

Keep reading

NCT 00 Line MTL to Have a High Sex Drive

Disclaimer: This is all based on my personal opinion. Thank you.

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[08:52] | nct lee donghyuck | haechan

“I love how you cared for me after, especially last night.”

pairing » nct lee donghyuck (haechan) x fem!reader​

trope/au » ​established relationship au!, marriage!au, non-idol au!

genre » mildly (?; as compared to my latest one before) suggestive but mainly fluff, dad haechan and mum reader, fluffy aftercare morning, just a cute little scenario in the morning, husband haechan who loves you very much, gentle haechan who treats you well, haechan and you both get to be the little/big spoon

word count; estimated reading time » 1626; ~6 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » aftercare in the morning (continued from previous night), suggestive talk, reader wears haechan's clothes, reader has hair long enough to be tucked behind the ear, mentions of s*x; from previous night (no smut), haechan touches your lower body momentarily, abdominal cramps after s*x, (a ton of) kissing, pet names (baby girl, bubs), nicknames (hyuck), mildly (?) suggestive sentence at the end, haechan implied to be physically bigger, not proofread 😭

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

just a small little something because exam season got me going 🤸🤸🤸🤸

i have a feeling that the next story i release is going to be a long one and is going to be quite emotional (for me at least) so this is a little 180 before that happens!

The sun seeps through the small gaps between your curtain and the birds sing their songs too early for your liking; especially after what happened last night. Blinking your eyes open wasn’t effortful and so was satisfyingly yawning your sleep away. What your overused muscles did not like too much however was when you tried to sit up on the bed, your abdomen forcing your head to lay back on your pillow.

“Okay…” You chuckle to yourself, heat creeping onto your cheek when you remember the events of last night. A hand goes on top of your stomach, stroking your skin and remembering how someone else did the same thing to lull you back to sleep last night.

You turn your head towards that someone, an adoring smile on your face when you’re greeted with his messy morning hair and slightly gaped lips. You couldn’t help but lay on your side to admire Haechan’s features, his relaxed and light snoring making your heart beat faster. His eyelashes took your attention and you couldn’t help but brush the posterior side of your index finger along it, unfortunately stirring him into consciousness.

“Sorry,” You quickly apologised, scooting over closer to him to share some body warmth. You gently pulled his head to your chest, cradling and blocking the sun behind you from reaching him and playing with his black strands, humming a quiet song while your other hand patted his back.

Haechan satisfactorily groans at his wife’s loving touch, snuggling over to bury his nose between the pillow and the crook of your neck, “Morning, bubs.”

“Good morning, Hyuck,” pressing a kiss to the top of his hairline.

“How was your sleep?” His morning voice was still evident, deep and husky; almost like last night but in a more tame and most definitely more innocent way.

“Too good.”

You feel the smirk on your skin as Haechan leans into you to pamper kisses all over the curve of your shoulder, “Yeah?” Up towards your jawline to your chin. His tongue runs free a little bit when he reaches your bottom lip before lightly biting it. “You like that?” Asking after hearing you gasping and closing your eyes. “Baby girl, didn’t get enough action last night?”

A hand sneaks up past your waist, pulling his oversized shirt up and immediately finds its way on your lower body down to your ass. You couldn’t help but whine slightly when Haechan spread his fingers around one of your cheeks, his palm warmer than your body. He lightly grips your body, so differently from last night, and you can’t help but tilt your head down to kiss him as he reminds you of last night. 

You got lost in his lips treating yours so gently, making sure that he pours all his love into you. But as the intensity increased, you forgot about the lower body pain and your husband was alarmed by the way you pulled away suddenly, flopping over on your back with the crease between your eyebrows evident.

Haechan gives you space, backing away just enough to get a proper look at you. He props up to one elbow against the bed, a hand tucking your hair behind your ears, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, a reassuring smile forming on your lips as soon as you see the worry in his eyes. A hand cups Haechan’s jawline, pulling him closer for a kiss. Just like before, Haechan didn’t stop giving you light reminders of his love around your face this time: the tip of your nose, forehead, eyelids and anywhere he could reach without hurting you. The hand that held your lower body moments before is now over the weighted blanket over you both, and he strokes the cotton to where your stomach is below.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, bubs.”

“You didn’t. Don’t apologise for that, Hyuck.” You immediately attempt to reassure his worries, “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“You didn’t, bubs.”

But Haechan still couldn’t help but pout again and you mirror his expression more exaggeratedly in hopes of making the situation lighter; to make sure he knows that he took care of you well straight after as well and that last night shouldn’t be something he should apologise about.

“I love how you cared for me after, especially last night.” A light blush spread across his face and you giggled at the way he face dived into his cushion, red and shy. “Pulling me onto your lap, letting me rest on your shoulder while you dressed me and messaging my body.” 

“Were you okay?” You heard him over the pillow, “I tried to be as gentle as possible.”

“You were super gentle with me,” You nod, acknowledging him, “Non-stop kissing me and telling me that I’m beautiful.”

Haechan turns his head to you, a slight look of confusion on his face, “I’m just stating facts though?”

A push against his shoulder and a light melodic laugh is what you give him. Haechan joins in the laughter, and his hand over your stomach begins to move, his fingers rising and falling delicately. You both just stare at each other, commuting through your eyes the upturned corners of your lips. It wouldn’t be for too long though because this time, it’s your turn to be the little spoon, imitating exactly what you did before plus the addition of his whispers of sweet nothings against your ears. You indulge yourself in his warmth and his natural scent that reminds you of safety and home. The blanket is adjusted, Haechan pulling it up just underneath your eyes and you could swear you could slumber back to sleep at this moment. 

The door clicks open then and there, Haechan’s eyes lighting up at the sight of the little one. The younger girl runs to her parent’s bed like usual but stops in her tracks when Haechan puts a palm out towards her hurriedly, “Don’t jump on the bed, little bean.”

“Why…?” Sadness laced her voice.

“Mumma is in a little bit of pain at the moment,” You peek up behind your blanket, saying a quick greeting to what Haechan would say is a mini version of you. “Come over on this side,” Tapping an empty spot on his side of the bed.

Soon, your child slumps over your husband’s figure, chin resting on his biceps as she looks over to you sadly, “Mumma, are you alright?”

“I am, baby, don’t worry.” You outstretched an arm towards your child, patting her head and successfully putting a smile on your face.

“Whoever hurts my mumma will have to go through me!”

Oh, if only she knew.

“You can’t beat, dadda, bean.” 

…oh my. 

You mentally face-palmed at the conversation unfolding before you. As your child lightly slaps your husband’s arm and asks for a reason why you’re bedridden, you can’t help but hide your face behind your blanket. You hear your husband panicking and stuttering, trying his best to go around the topic whilst also giving her a proper explanation that no, Haechan would never hurt you in that way.

“Dadda! You said you would always take care of mumma!”

“I-I do!”

“Then what is this?” She points at you, “Get away from mumma!”

You could no longer contain your laughter and it was the reason why your child stopped reprimanding her dad. Seeing you smile and laugh was the only reassurance that your child needed because she no longer gave her dad slaps and Haechan mentally thanked you for getting him out of that situation.

But seeing your child awake also reminded you of the time and the empty belly that she must have. Your mother instincts kicked in and your stomach cramp didn’t matter with her in your sight, “Alright, mumma will get up now.” 

“Hey, hey, no you’re not.” Haechan takes hold of your shoulder, grabs the corner of the blanket from the other side of the bed and pulls it to your chest. He hovers above you, heart-shaped eyes decorating his gaze on you. His arm stays there to lock you in, “I’ll take care of her. Just rest, bubs.”

“Hyuck, it’s fine.”

“No.” He curtly responded. “Stay here. I’ll take care of the little gremlin.” 

“Dadda!” So maybe it wasn’t as quiet and subtle as he thought it was. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Haechan pinches your daughter’s cheek, “Go to the kitchen. Dadda will meet you there with your favourite breakfast.” It didn’t take a second for her to jump out the bed, excited screaming and variations of ‘yay’s echoing your room, the hallway and soon, basically your whole house.

“Are you sure she’s not your mini me?” 

Haechan playfully scoffs, rolling his eyes at your question. “And what about my lovely wife? What breakfast do you want?”

“I’m not too hungry yet.” Feeling your eyelids becoming heavy once more as you exhale lightly from your lips, “I’ll make brunch later.”

Haechan hums at your thoughts and slips out from the shared blanket. The disappearance of the secure warmth and the weight of his hand on your stomach wasn’t the best but you’re aware of the parental duties that must be addressed first. As Haechan finally stands and stretches his limbs in the air, he doesn’t forget to give you a final kiss on the lips, staying there for a while, separating to look at you before planting another one.

“You shouldn’t want anything, baby girl,” Your slight eyebrow raise only made him smirk. And as you thought you would be able to go back to being sound asleep for another hour, Haechan just had to make your brain and heart go haywire, “Not with how I filled you up last night.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

tags (send a dm/ask if you would like to be here or removed!): @k-labels 💙🤍 @k-films 🤎🎞️ @kflixnet 📺🍿

happy haechan day and thank you for 100+ interactions!!

[08:52] | nct lee donghyuck | haechan

“I love how you cared for me after, especially last night.”

pairing » nct lee donghyuck (haechan) x fem!reader​

trope/au » ​established relationship au!, marriage!au, non-idol au!

genre » mildly (?; as compared to my latest one before) suggestive but mainly fluff, dad haechan and mum reader, fluffy aftercare morning, just a cute little scenario in the morning, husband haechan who loves you very much, gentle haechan who treats you well, haechan and you both get to be the little/big spoon

word count; estimated reading time » 1626; ~6 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » aftercare in the morning (continued from previous night), suggestive talk, reader wears haechan's clothes, reader has hair long enough to be tucked behind the ear, mentions of s*x; from previous night (no smut), haechan touches your lower body momentarily, abdominal cramps after s*x, (a ton of) kissing, pet names (baby girl, bubs), nicknames (hyuck), mildly (?) suggestive sentence at the end, haechan implied to be physically bigger, not proofread 😭

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

just a small little something because exam season got me going 🤸🤸🤸🤸

i have a feeling that the next story i release is going to be a long one and is going to be quite emotional (for me at least) so this is a little 180 before that happens!

The sun seeps through the small gaps between your curtain and the birds sing their songs too early for your liking; especially after what happened last night. Blinking your eyes open wasn’t effortful and so was satisfyingly yawning your sleep away. What your overused muscles did not like too much however was when you tried to sit up on the bed, your abdomen forcing your head to lay back on your pillow.

“Okay…” You chuckle to yourself, heat creeping onto your cheek when you remember the events of last night. A hand goes on top of your stomach, stroking your skin and remembering how someone else did the same thing to lull you back to sleep last night.

You turn your head towards that someone, an adoring smile on your face when you’re greeted with his messy morning hair and slightly gaped lips. You couldn’t help but lay on your side to admire Haechan’s features, his relaxed and light snoring making your heart beat faster. His eyelashes took your attention and you couldn’t help but brush the posterior side of your index finger along it, unfortunately stirring him into consciousness.

“Sorry,” You quickly apologised, scooting over closer to him to share some body warmth. You gently pulled his head to your chest, cradling and blocking the sun behind you from reaching him and playing with his black strands, humming a quiet song while your other hand patted his back.

Haechan satisfactorily groans at his wife’s loving touch, snuggling over to bury his nose between the pillow and the crook of your neck, “Morning, bubs.”

“Good morning, Hyuck,” pressing a kiss to the top of his hairline.

“How was your sleep?” His morning voice was still evident, deep and husky; almost like last night but in a more tame and most definitely more innocent way.

“Too good.”

You feel the smirk on your skin as Haechan leans into you to pamper kisses all over the curve of your shoulder, “Yeah?” Up towards your jawline to your chin. His tongue runs free a little bit when he reaches your bottom lip before lightly biting it. “You like that?” Asking after hearing you gasping and closing your eyes. “Baby girl, didn’t get enough action last night?”

A hand sneaks up past your waist, pulling his oversized shirt up and immediately finds its way on your lower body down to your ass. You couldn’t help but whine slightly when Haechan spread his fingers around one of your cheeks, his palm warmer than your body. He lightly grips your body, so differently from last night, and you can’t help but tilt your head down to kiss him as he reminds you of last night. 

You got lost in his lips treating yours so gently, making sure that he pours all his love into you. But as the intensity increased, you forgot about the lower body pain and your husband was alarmed by the way you pulled away suddenly, flopping over on your back with the crease between your eyebrows evident.

Haechan gives you space, backing away just enough to get a proper look at you. He props up to one elbow against the bed, a hand tucking your hair behind your ears, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You shake your head, a reassuring smile forming on your lips as soon as you see the worry in his eyes. A hand cups Haechan’s jawline, pulling him closer for a kiss. Just like before, Haechan didn’t stop giving you light reminders of his love around your face this time: the tip of your nose, forehead, eyelids and anywhere he could reach without hurting you. The hand that held your lower body moments before is now over the weighted blanket over you both, and he strokes the cotton to where your stomach is below.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, bubs.”

“You didn’t. Don’t apologise for that, Hyuck.” You immediately attempt to reassure his worries, “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“You didn’t, bubs.”

But Haechan still couldn’t help but pout again and you mirror his expression more exaggeratedly in hopes of making the situation lighter; to make sure he knows that he took care of you well straight after as well and that last night shouldn’t be something he should apologise about.

“I love how you cared for me after, especially last night.” A light blush spread across his face and you giggled at the way he face dived into his cushion, red and shy. “Pulling me onto your lap, letting me rest on your shoulder while you dressed me and messaging my body.” 

“Were you okay?” You heard him over the pillow, “I tried to be as gentle as possible.”

“You were super gentle with me,” You nod, acknowledging him, “Non-stop kissing me and telling me that I’m beautiful.”

Haechan turns his head to you, a slight look of confusion on his face, “I’m just stating facts though?”

A push against his shoulder and a light melodic laugh is what you give him. Haechan joins in the laughter, and his hand over your stomach begins to move, his fingers rising and falling delicately. You both just stare at each other, commuting through your eyes the upturned corners of your lips. It wouldn’t be for too long though because this time, it’s your turn to be the little spoon, imitating exactly what you did before plus the addition of his whispers of sweet nothings against your ears. You indulge yourself in his warmth and his natural scent that reminds you of safety and home. The blanket is adjusted, Haechan pulling it up just underneath your eyes and you could swear you could slumber back to sleep at this moment. 

The door clicks open then and there, Haechan’s eyes lighting up at the sight of the little one. The younger girl runs to her parent’s bed like usual but stops in her tracks when Haechan puts a palm out towards her hurriedly, “Don’t jump on the bed, little bean.”

“Why…?” Sadness laced her voice.

“Mumma is in a little bit of pain at the moment,” You peek up behind your blanket, saying a quick greeting to what Haechan would say is a mini version of you. “Come over on this side,” Tapping an empty spot on his side of the bed.

Soon, your child slumps over your husband’s figure, chin resting on his biceps as she looks over to you sadly, “Mumma, are you alright?”

“I am, baby, don’t worry.” You outstretched an arm towards your child, patting her head and successfully putting a smile on your face.

“Whoever hurts my mumma will have to go through me!”

Oh, if only she knew.

“You can’t beat, dadda, bean.” 

…oh my. 

You mentally face-palmed at the conversation unfolding before you. As your child lightly slaps your husband’s arm and asks for a reason why you’re bedridden, you can’t help but hide your face behind your blanket. You hear your husband panicking and stuttering, trying his best to go around the topic whilst also giving her a proper explanation that no, Haechan would never hurt you in that way.

“Dadda! You said you would always take care of mumma!”

“I-I do!”

“Then what is this?” She points at you, “Get away from mumma!”

You could no longer contain your laughter and it was the reason why your child stopped reprimanding her dad. Seeing you smile and laugh was the only reassurance that your child needed because she no longer gave her dad slaps and Haechan mentally thanked you for getting him out of that situation.

But seeing your child awake also reminded you of the time and the empty belly that she must have. Your mother instincts kicked in and your stomach cramp didn’t matter with her in your sight, “Alright, mumma will get up now.” 

“Hey, hey, no you’re not.” Haechan takes hold of your shoulder, grabs the corner of the blanket from the other side of the bed and pulls it to your chest. He hovers above you, heart-shaped eyes decorating his gaze on you. His arm stays there to lock you in, “I’ll take care of her. Just rest, bubs.”

“Hyuck, it’s fine.”

“No.” He curtly responded. “Stay here. I’ll take care of the little gremlin.” 

“Dadda!” So maybe it wasn’t as quiet and subtle as he thought it was. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” Haechan pinches your daughter’s cheek, “Go to the kitchen. Dadda will meet you there with your favourite breakfast.” It didn’t take a second for her to jump out the bed, excited screaming and variations of ‘yay’s echoing your room, the hallway and soon, basically your whole house.

“Are you sure she’s not your mini me?” 

Haechan playfully scoffs, rolling his eyes at your question. “And what about my lovely wife? What breakfast do you want?”

“I’m not too hungry yet.” Feeling your eyelids becoming heavy once more as you exhale lightly from your lips, “I’ll make brunch later.”

Haechan hums at your thoughts and slips out from the shared blanket. The disappearance of the secure warmth and the weight of his hand on your stomach wasn’t the best but you’re aware of the parental duties that must be addressed first. As Haechan finally stands and stretches his limbs in the air, he doesn’t forget to give you a final kiss on the lips, staying there for a while, separating to look at you before planting another one.

“You shouldn’t want anything, baby girl,” Your slight eyebrow raise only made him smirk. And as you thought you would be able to go back to being sound asleep for another hour, Haechan just had to make your brain and heart go haywire, “Not with how I filled you up last night.”

navi/masterlist!! 🤍

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