#donghyuck fics
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THE ONLY EXCEPTION
PAIRING: haechan × fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, brother’s best friend trope, fluff, slight angst, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cunnilingus, penetration, breeding, usage of nicknames, themes of jealousy, mentions of mark (brother) and other dreamies, mentions of yunjin from le sserafim, Imk if i missed anything!
WORD COUNT: 10k words
SYNOPSIS: mark was an overprotective brother and he didn’t fail to show it, warning all the guys to stay away from you, his best friends were no exception. so, how will you make it work when you return back after graduating school, only to find that your crush is paying more attention to you than ever? it most certainly doesn’t help that it’s lee donghyuck, to whom, you are strictly off limits.
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
A/N: hihi, my loves <3 i finally wrote a fic for the loml hyuckie <3 all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33
The music blasting from the speakers, reverberating around the room full of university students, the wretched smell of alcohol mixed with cigarettes lingered in the air as your sharp eyes adorned with perfectly winged liner focused around the room, greeting everyone who was shocked to find you at the party.
It felt good to be back.
Leaving for a boarding school wasn’t on your bucket list, yet it was an opportunity you couldn’t miss, the school being a prestigious one with a degree that would only be helpful in the future, which left you no choice but to disappear for three years, only to suddenly reappear today, straight making an appearance at the party.
“Told you, your celebrity status is still intact,” Yunjin winked at you, her being the only friend who was stubborn enough to not break contact with you, and you loved her for the same.
Raising your brow at her, you took another swing of beer which you had loosely gripped in your hand, “it’s not mine, it all belongs to my brother,” you said, “I don’t want this attention, especially when it’s only valid because I’m Mark’s sister who had a glow up over my time of not being in the town.”
Your brother was well known in the university—the same university which you’d be attending soon along with the people who also attended the same middle school as you, however, his reputation preceded him as he, along with his friends, had turned into the group all girls desired to be with, yet they never let anyone stick around for long.
Settling down wasn’t their forte.
People snogging around every corner of the house wasn’t a sight you were willing to witness, granted you had a long flight and were tired. Not having any ride back home was another factor which made you approach your brother—who wasn’t locked up in a room with some girl for once.
“I wanna go home,” you huffed, standing next to Mark, who was quick to excuse himself from the conversation he was having.
“I can’t drive you back, I’m buzzed dude,” he says, “my baby sis is all grown up,” he looks your way, patting your head before you step back, disgusted at his overly affectionate big brother act.
He acted as if everything was normal when in reality, he was the one who always deprived you of every single thing, not allowing you to go out, not allowing you to meet boys, and most importantly, not letting his friends interact with you.
“Ew, drink this and sober up.” You passed on the water bottle in your hand to him, “how am I supposed to go back? Should I take a cab?”
“No, that’s not safe. You wait here, I’ll get my friend to drop you off,” he asked you to wait by the front door.
The shock on your face was evident, yet it was better to get a ride with one of his friends rather than fending for yourself this late at night. With a nonchalant nod, you walked away, waiting by the door.
It wasn’t hard for Mark to find his group, they were sprawled across the sofa as if they owned it, surrounded by girls sitting around them; or on their lap.
“Who’s not drunk here?” He asked, straight up eliminating Jeno from the list, who was taking big gulps from his can, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “minus Jeno.”
Haechan was quick to ignore the girl who was leaning down to kiss him, eyes tired yet lined with the perfect amount of eyeliner—a look he went for whenever a party was concerned.
“I am sober. Driver duties, why?” He asked.
Even though there was nothing but truth in his words, it would be hard to accept it, provided that his eyes were the perfect shade of brown which harboured the ideal amount of brightness during the day, and just the exact amount of intoxication at night.
“I had one beer,” Jaemin said, sitting with a bored expression on his face, probably not in the mood to entertain the girls at the given moment, unlike Jeno and Renjun, who basked in the attention of them.
“Y/n wants to go back home,” Mark explained, grabbing another can of beer, “and I obviously can’t go to drop her off.”
“Y/n? Is she back?” Hyuck asked, playing with his silver rings before unbuttoning the top of his black button up, exposing his chain clad neck and clavicle, which was valid given how hot the room was.
“Yeah, she came back in the afternoon today. Jaem can you drop her back home?” Jaemin chuckles at the offended look Haechan threw his way.
“Of course man,” Jaemin agreed.
“He’s drunk too, in case you overlooked that, I’m the sober one right now,” Hyuck said, pointing out the obvious.
“Yeah, dude there’s no way I’m letting you go alone with my sister,” Mark laughed, “lord knows you can’t keep it in your pants,” he added.
Hyuck was quick to raise his eyebrow, scoffing, pushing his tongue inside his cheek, “and he can?” He asked, pointing at Jaemin.
“He knows where to draw a line, unlike you, and she’s my baby sister, I’m not risking anything,” Mark explained enthusiastically, as if it was a joke, because it caused an uproar of laughter, which only infuriated Hyuck more.
“I know when to stop,” he said, annoyed.
“You didn’t know that when you fucked principal’s daughter,” Jeno provided.
“And when you did so in his office, with cameras installed,” Renjun not so helpfully added.
Hyuck agrees that they were right to a certain extent, but their lack of trust was always something that bothered him. If there was someone who actually didn’t know where to stop, that would be them, because he did not appreciate the insults thrown his way.
It also didn’t help how he genuinely wanted to see you, but now his mood was ruined, courtesy of Mark.
Mark then proceeded to list out a few more things as to prove that Hyuck wasn’t fit for being anywhere close to his sister, “I don’t trust you with her,” he shrugged, asking Jaemin to drop you off and ending the conversation.
Meanwhile, it had been a solid seven minutes and twenty six seconds since you started waiting for Mark’s friend to come and pick you up, and you made sure to put the time into good use by observing your surroundings yet again.
In the farther right corner, you spotted your old crush, Park Sunghoon, who was in your ethics class. He never paid attention to you, granted your brother made sure to warn the whole school population that you were off limits.
You couldn’t deny, it was good to see him happy and you swore you noticed him giggling too, talking to your old classmate, who you remember, was called Moon—one of the beauties of your school, before he pulled her into a sweet kiss.
Your observation was cut short when one of Mark’s friends, whom you had not seen in the past three years appeared in front of you with a small smile. Na Jaemin, he was charming from the bottom to the top.
“Welcome back, Y/n,” he smiled, voice slutry, which came naturally to him.
You offered him a smile in return, shamelessly checking him out, he had gotten buff. You were not expecting him to come here, but then again, your subconscious wanted to see that one boy whose eyes reminded you of honey.
You wondered how he looked now. Does he even remember you? A sigh left your glossy lips as you admitted that you still might have a teeny tiny crush on Lee Haechan after all this while, and deep inside, you wished to see him again.
With a smile, you followed him to the car as he engaged you in a conversation. It was probably the first time he had been given the permission to interact with you, and even he couldn’t deny, he loved to see the development, the confidence that you had come back with.
While you were getting back home, Haechan was fuming with anger, kicking the pavement as he had left the party, his mind formulating ideas for a plausible revenge against everyone. He was rebellious, he’d give himself that, yet in the depth of his heart, he meant well, not wanting to hurt anyone intentionally, only for the sake of having unharmed fun.
It wasn’t as if his friends were any different, so why should he be the one who’s labelled to be the worst of them all? This time, he wanted to hurt someone on purpose, the someone being Mark Lee.
Solution? Get as close to you as humanly possible—which would also mean that he’d have to work to get a place in your heart. But he didn’t mind it, especially when he had liked you all this while.
Mark wanted him to stay away? Tough luck because Hyuck wanted you.
Thinking about you reminded him of when you first met through Mark, he had priorly informed everyone to stay away from you, despite the fact you were in fifth grade, almost isolating you from the world. However, it wasn’t enough for Hyuck to stop greeting you with his gummy smiles, which caused you to smile back at him too.
That’s the most exchange you guys have had over these years. Hyuck was gonna change that, and so, he found himself walking towards your house, knowing well that Mark won’t be around to stop him, and your parents would be deep asleep given that it was past midnight.
Climbing up your room wasn’t hard, especially when he was aware of the ladder kept in your backyard, but being silent after entering your room through a window was tough.
The lights were dim, just how you liked it when you slept. With a few steps, Hyuck reached your bed, eyes fixated on your sleeping figure.
A small, genuine smile graced his face when he noticed the small pout on your moisturized lips. Adorable—that’s how he perceived you, yet there was no denying how much you had grown up to be prettier than ever, and he couldn’t help but caress your cheek with his thumb, even the slightest touch making you stir in your sleep, causing him to chuckle.
He had to have you.
You weren’t sure if it was a dream or had Hyuck actually visited you at night, though, the latter idea seemed nothing less than a delusion. Maybe it was your brain playing tricks with you, but it wasn’t your biggest concern at the given moment as you wanted nothing more than to freshen up and eat.
What you did not expect was to see your mom catering the four boys sprawled across your living room, the guy in your dream wasn’t anywhere to be seen still.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” your mom sweetly pulled you in her embrace, gaining the attention of your brother and his friends, who were sitting together playing some video games.
“Good morning, mum,” you smiled, having missed her while you were away for school.
“Yo, I almost forgot you were back for a second,” Mark commented as your mom asked everyone to sit down.
You looked at him with a sour expression, “yeah, right. Cause there was no one to tell you that you’re wearing two different designs of socks,” you pointed out, getting a snigger out of Jeno, who passed you a sweet smile when you looked his way, averting his gaze within a second, a habit of all his friends who weren’t allowed to stare at you.
“Or that you’re wearing your T-shirt inside out,” you scrunch your nose as others see a very clueless Mark trying to get everything in order, your mom also amused by the sudden liveliness in the home, “no, but how are you this unaware about yourself?” You mused.
Mark didn’t get to reply or whine when the front door opened to reveal the guy of your dreams, quite literally.
Lee Haechan came into the room as if he owned the place, your eyes fixated on his messy hair as he said hello to your mother, who was more than happy to see him here.
Hyuck was her favourite out of all Mark’s friends.
Other guys were quick to apologize to Hyuck, you wondered why, and Mark had apparently apologized on text last night for crossing the line.
He looked carefree and unbothered, so you didn’t ponder upon it much till he sat down next to you for breakfast, finally looking in your eyes.
You blinked once, focusing on his eyes which looked like they had honey swirling around them, his skin was tanned to the prettiest shade as he passed you a small smile, “hey, Y/n,” he acknowledged your presence, lips almost upturned into what seemed to be a smirk.
For a second, you couldn’t quite focus as you were too enthralled observing the beauty marks scattered across his face, his plump pink lips—
Yeah, that thought shook you awake, “hey, Haechan,” you greeted back, thinking that calling him Hyuck might just be too friendly.
“So, are we on for our trip tomorrow?” Jaemin asked, cutting your interaction short.
“Wait, what trip?” You asked, knowing that your parents were gonna be out for a business trip too, and you weren’t one to enjoy being home alone in such a big house.
“Didn’t Mark tell you?” Your mom asked and shook your head, throwing an accusatory look his way, “They all are having a stay in at Hyuck’s beach house.”
“And me? Am I supposed to be staying alone for what—how many days?” You asked.
“A week,” Mark informed, unaffected.
“I’m not staying home alone for a whole week, mum, this isn’t fair.” The distress was clear on your face.
“Call your friends over then,” your mom suggested.
“For a week? We’d rather go out for vacation too,” you pouted, not noticing the stare of two boys.
“Join the trip with Mark then,” she recommended, placing the fluffy pancake on your plate.
“What? Why? No,” Mark protested and the room bursted into a web of chaos with everyone discussing it.
Only Hyuck was silent, his eyes still on your face, admiring your side view shamelessly, but also careful not to give out his intentions in front of Mark.
“It’s a boys trip, mom. Y’know? Boy stuff,” he winced, trying to explain without explaining that all they planned on doing was drink, smoke and invite girls over, “guys, tell them?”
“Yeah—he’s right,” they all agreed, not maintaining eye contact, looking at each other awkwardly.
“Okay, since the beach house is Hyuck’s, why don’t we let him decide?” Your mom sighs, looking at Hyuck.
Now that the sole attention is on him, he tries to act clueless with a helpless look on his face, especially when you are looking at him with big eyes, lower lip jutting out in a pout.
Then he looked back at his friends, who clearly wanted the girl to go, minus Mark at least. Lastly, he looked at your mom, who only smiled, and that was enough of an excuse for Hyuck to say with the sweetest smile—
“Of course, Y/n and her friend are always invited.”
“He said yes,” you were on the phone, explaining the whole situation to Yunjin, knowing well that she’d be more than ready to accompany you for your rendezvous.
“He what?” She exclaimed, knowing that the boys would never take your side, especially in front of Mark.
“I know, mom sorta helped cause Haechan never says no to mom, it’s like he’s her favourite child or something,” a humorous laugh left your lips.
“Well, he will be once he becomes your boyfriend,” Yunjin gushed, “we’ll make sure he notices you this time, we’ve got a whole week to make it work.”
You had rushed up the stairs and into your room as soon as the decision had been made, followed by the loud complaints of Mark—which you did not bother to hear, calling Yunjin to fill her in with the situation instead.
She was packing as you were speaking.
In all honesty, it never crossed your mind that you would actually want to seduce Haechan, provided that he was Mark’s friend, which would lead to fights you definitely didn’t wish to be a part of, but you were an adult, so Mark held no authority over you.
There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun after all.
“I’m not giving you a ride,” Mark deadpanned when you got back downstairs, your mother looking at him with disappointment.
“I’ll take a cab then,” you rolled your eyes.
“No need, you’re taking two cars and it’s enough to fit you all,” your mom finally said, “who’s driving?”
“Me and Mark,” Hyuck replied, voice innocent as you turned to look his way, “Mark is taking the bigger one.”
“Is that so? All boys can go with Mark then. Won’t you give a lift to Y/n and Yunjin, Hyuck?” Your mom asked, knowing he won’t say no.
She was good at persuasion, unknowingly giving Haechan the full opportunity to be with you, which is exactly what he was aiming for in the first place.
Haechan only nodded earnestly, eyes almost shining as he looked back at you, “of course, you can ride with me,” he said, ignoring the glare thrown his way by Mark as your name rolled off his tongue, “Y/n.”
As if his voice and gaze wasn’t enough for you to stop breathing in a room full of people, the subtle smirk on his lips successfully had your knees buckling with anticipation.
Never in a million years you had thought that you’d be riding shotgun in Hyuck’s car, with him driving and humming along to songs under his breath. You had worn the shortest skirt you managed to find in your closet and the little trick had worked as you saw him staring at your legs when you first came downstairs, announcing that you and Yunjin were ready to leave for the trip.
Not only did it grab the attention of the boy you had been targeting, but also it garnered attention of Jaemin, who at least tried to act respectful by gulping and looking away.
Hyuck on the other hand believed that he should blatantly stare at the things which are to be admired, including your legs.
It didn’t take long for you guys to load your bags into his car, as the other one left ten minutes before you guys. Yunjin wasn’t a fan of long drives—two hours in your case, so she put on her AirPods and closed her eyes the second she got into the back seat, also to give you privacy with Haechan.
He drove with one hand, the other resting on his thigh. The rings and chain adorning his body caught your attention for a second too long. His hands were definitely bigger than yours, veins popping out whenever he gripped the steering wheel.
The aura around him was too strong, as if he was a magnet ready to pull everyone towards him, you were no exception.
“Like the rings, darling?” He asked, eyes on the road with the corner of his lip upturned.
The question successfully broke your train of thoughts. It was probably the first conversation you had with him, excluding the usual greetings.
And he kick-started it by calling you darling.
“They’re pretty,” you replied, not letting the nickname phase you, despite heat creeping up your neck.
His smile widened at your answer and he swiftly got a ring off his finger, passing it to you—again, without even looking your way.
“They’ll look prettier on you,” he says ever so smoothly, and you bite your lips, trying to stop the smile from widening as your fingers brush against his, taking the ring and inspecting the design, “don’t wear that in front of the boys though, they’ll flip.”
An amused chuckle left your lips, something which Haechan did not expect, “why? Still scared of Mark and his empty threats?” You asked.
He pissed you off too much with his don’t come near my sister or I’ll make your life a living hell threat to others, and you were bitter about it.
“Now, why would I be scared of Mark?” He scoffed.
“Because you’re one of his friends who aren’t even allowed to look my way,” you said as a matter of fact, breath hitching the second you felt his fingers on your thigh, the warmth of his palm juxtaposing the cold metal of his rings.
The car was stopped at the red light, “I’ve always looked you in the eye, sweetheart,” he whispered, confirming his statement by turning his head and staring right into your eyes, the tension palpable as your gazes locked, the look being too alluring for you to break the eye contact.
His whole demeanour changed in a second when his serious expression morphed into a sweet smile, the kind that makes you melt right before he shifted his focus back on the road as if he hadn’t just provided you a sliver of hope about him being interested in you.
He, however, didn’t bother moving his hand which was gripping your thigh lightly, his fingers were long and looked exceptionally pretty on your skin. You couldn’t help but look out of the window, trying not to let your thoughts get out of hand.
It certainly didn’t help that he was singing explicit romantic songs with all his might while your best friend was sleeping peacefully in the backseat.
Haechan loved every single reaction he got out of you, your little shivers when he caressed your thigh, your breath hitching for the very same reason midway a conversation, and your sweet blabber as you he initiated a conversation.
“How was school?” He asked after a while.
The conversation flowed smoothly after, the ride wasn’t long after all, his hand caressing your thigh throughout the journey, and you wished for it to be longer.
The beach house wasn’t a house apparently, but a mansion with how grand it was. Meaning, everyone would easily get their own rooms. Mark’s car was already parked as they reached earlier, but you saw Jaemin coming out when he heard the sound of Hyuck’s car, helping you take the bags inside with his ever so charming smile while Yunjin and you silently gushed about the beach view.
Others were busy preparing for the party that was to be held at night—which was news to you.
The interior was in the shades of black, white, and greys, matching Haechan’s personality in a peculiar manner, given that he was filled with colours of all sorts.
You and Yunjin selected the adjacent rooms on the first floor, the balcony giving you a pretty view wasn’t something you’d want to miss out on. Haechan occupying the room which was right in front of your room is another thing which boosted your excitement.
The next few hours flew by as you rested on the beach with Yunjin, soaking up warmth of the sand with the cold ocean waves reaching your toes. It felt peaceful.
“So, what are you gonna wear to woo Haechan today?” Yunjin asked, sipping on her iced beverage.
The sun was about to set, your eyes never leaving the sky which displayed all shades of red, yellow and orange, “what do you mean?”
“I mean that there’s no way they won’t be inviting girls, it was supposed to be a boys trip after all to get their dicks wet,” she said as a matter of fact.
You winced again, not having it in you to watch your brother surrounded by girls.
“And if Haechan was flirting with you, then it’s your chance to flirt back now, given that Mark would be drunk beyond the point of recovery. Not to mention how you’ll have to do something so he doesn’t stray off and give attention to other girls,” Yunjin listed out.
She was right, it wasn’t like you were going to get this chance again, “red dress or black dress?” You asked with a playful smile and she squealed, rushing you into your room to help you get ready.
The music was blaring by the time you applied the last swatch of lipstick, smacking your lips for the colour to blend in perfectly, complementing your skin tone ever so perfectly. Yunjin doing the same beside you.
You weren’t sure how they managed to gather all this crowd for a party, granted you guys didn’t even live here, yet who would question these boys, an online invite and people would come running to attend their parties.
Which was the case at the given moment as well. The second you stepped out from your assorted room, you found Jeno practically eating a girl’s face off with how passionately they were kissing right beside the door, the music blaring in the background as you tried to overcome the initial shock of seeing your brother’s friend going what you’d consider wild.
Making your way downstairs, you put on your best confident expression, your eyes immediately looking around, trying to find a certain black haired guy.
Yunjin stopped you, pointing at the corner of the room where Hyuck was sitting with girls surrounding him, Renjun right next to him, a scoff of disbelief leaving your lips when one of them oh so comfortably sat down on his lap, his arm wrapping around her waist so naturally.
Yet you couldn’t deny just how effortlessly attractive he looked in that black button up, the first few buttons undone to reveal his chest. The eyeshadow enhancing the look of his eyes to appear more slutry than they already seemed to be.
Great. This is what you came on this trip for—to see Hyuck tilting the chin of a random girl, shoving his tongue inside her mouth.
This won’t do, you averted your gaze, going straight to get alcohol, any kind would do, you just needed a boost of confidence to work upon your plan. Yunjin knew exactly what you were up to, winking at you before wandering off in the crowd.
“Not dancing tonight?” Jaemin asked, standing right next to you as he poured himself a drink.
His presence made your job easier, especially when he looked so good tonight. His dark hair was a little messy, sleeves rolled up as he was clad in all black, a simple chain adorning his slender neck.
Perfect bait to get a reaction out of Haechan.
If he’d bother to look your way, that is.
“Talking to me tonight? Not scared of my brother anymore?” Your lips curled up, amused.
That earned a laugh out of him, “he’s locked up in a room as we speak,” he said over the music. Translation: he was busy fucking someone and he won’t be here to monitor your moves.
Your nose scrunched, not wanting to think about your brother doing the deed. Jaemin walked alongside you as you took up his offer to dance, but also made sure that you could see Haechan clearly with your spot.
His eyes turned your way for the first time tonight the second you started moving your body along to the rhythm. The distance was fair, yet it felt as if you were the only person in this room and he was the only spectator to your actions.
Jaemin’s hand came to rest on your waist, your body in sync with his moves, the proximity close and a blissful expression on your face.
Again, you subtly looked Hyuck’s way, only to find his eyes darker than ever, not straying away from you for even a second, the girl on his lap long forgotten as he couldn’t find a reason to give her his attention anymore.
Not when you were dancing with Jaemin, not when your dress rode up, revealing your thighs, not when Jaemin whispered in your ear and you giggled, getting closer to him.
He couldn’t stand it, the muscle in his jaw clenched, his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek with annoyance bubbling up in his body.
You turned around, only to find Haechan missing from the spot he was sitting at. All of a sudden, you excused yourself from Jaemin and made your way around the room, to find him again and you failed to do so.
The room’s atmosphere got stuffy as the night progressed and you made your way upstairs to your room in need of fresh air which was very well provided by the grand balcony.
Just as you twisted the door knob, getting inside the room, you gasped as Hyuck closed the door behind you, pushing you against the wooden surface of the door, his scent taking over your senses seamlessly as you breathed in deeply.
“Hyuck—” you whispered, hyper aware of how close he was to you, his body pressed against yours in a way you could feel his torso muscles. His face tilted ever so slightly, just enough for your noses to brush against each other.
The position alone sent you into a state of frenzy, and he didn’t even let you finish speaking out his name as he chuckled darkly.
“Didn’t know you were into Jaemin, darling,” he whispered, causing you to gulp down the nervousness, which was of no use as your knees felt even weaker with his slender finger tracing your cheek, stopping right by your lips, “dancing with him while wearing the ring that I gave you.” His thumb caressing your bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “doesn’t really sound fair to me now, does it, baby?” He asked, stopping his actions and looking your right in the eye.
You couldn’t show him how affected you were with possessiveness laced tone, “I don’t see how it’s unfair, Haechan,” you smiled sweetly, keeping your hand on his chest.
“Wrong,” he said in a beat, “his intentions aren’t pure,” he provided.
You chuckled, turning your face to the side for a second, “what about your intentions?” You dared to ask.
His hold on you tightened, “you wanna know my intentions?” He asked, voice so low it gave you goosebumps as he moved even closer to you, his lips on the verge of touching yours.
They never fully touched, your hand becoming a barrier between you two, “maybe some other day,” you whispered, the expression in his eyes unreadable, “someday when you don’t come here with tainted lips after kissing god knows how many girls,” you smiled tightly, pushing him aside, the alcohol only providing you with unadulterated courage.
He pulled you back, hand wrapped around your wrist so his torso was pressed against your back, which vibrated with his chuckles, “didn’t know it bothered you that much, pretty,” his lips touched your earlobe.
“It doesn’t,” you seethed out, trying not to sound breathless as you shrugged out of his hold, “besides, we mean nothing to each other. I won’t stop you from snogging anyone and you can’t stop me from dancing with anyone.”
That’s all you said before slipping out of his grasp, rushing in and closing the bathroom door behind you and breathing in deeply. The feeling of his touch still lingering on your body, he was jealous as you were and he was so close.
So close to kissing you.
Hyuck leaned against the door on the opposite side of you, “we mean nothing to each other?” He scoffed under his breath, the image of Jaemin’s hands on your waist coming back to his mind. He was wrong to pay attention to someone else, he admits, but now he was determined to give you all his attention.
“You’re mine, you just don’t know that yet,” he says, knowing you won’t be able to hear him, “all mine,” his tone was possessive still as he walked out of the room.
The boys woke up all hungover the next morning, while you and Yunjin snuck out of the mansion before others woke up, only to avoid Hyuck, which was almost funny given that you were here to get his attention.
Regardless, you sat in this cute cafe you found nearby, explaining the whole situation to your best friend. The slight smirk on her face gave away the fact that she was proud of you for not giving him attention last night. It’ll only make him want you more, she had said.
Mark called you right after you finished your meal, “where are you?” He asked, panicked, “don’t tell me you got kidnapped,” the horror was clear in his voice and you rolled your eyes, not understanding how his brain worked.
“I literally left a note on the fridge that I’ll be out for lunch and shopping, Mark,” you explained, almost laughing when you heard him say oh. He was standing right in front of the fridge apparently.
“Right, have fun,” he said, hanging up the call.
He wasn’t the best brother but he did care. At times, more than he needed to.
“Okay so here’s the plan,” Yunjin started to explain. She loved giving out ideas and they always worked, which is why you found yourself in the swimsuit store, purchasing the one which flattered your body in the best manner.
“And don’t lock your room at night. Knowing Haechan, he would definitely give you a little visit after seeing you pull that stunt.”
The sun was setting and you were almost back at the mansion. You enjoyed the day and it was a great plan to get Hyuck out of your head, even though it wasn’t possible despite the fact that it had been only two days since you came back and met him again.
Tonight’s plan was to have a bonfire by the beach, grill meat and have a good time. Mark had finally accepted and asked everyone to tone down and make the trip more family friendly, hence the bonfire.
The place was empty when you got back in, and you saw the boys setting up the barbecue when you changed into your dress before making your way to join them.
“Remember the plan?” Yunjin asked and you nodded, loving the feel of cold sand beneath your foot.
Hyuck was the first one to notice your presence, his dark eyes fixated on your figure as you walked towards them, Jaemin being the second one as he smiled your way, to which you smiled back sweetly.
You still had Hyuck’s ring on as you approached the place where Hyuck and Jaemin were grilling the meat, Mark was sitting down and playing his guitar while Jeno and Renjun sang along to the song, Yunjin being a great singer also joined those three.
“Can I have a taste?” You asked, looking at Jaemin with hopeful eyes.
The weather was cold yet the burning stare of a certain someone had you feeling all kinds of warmth, yet you didn’t look his way.
“Of course, say ah,” Jaemin said, eyes shining as he held the piece of meat for you and you gladly accepted it, your lips touching his fingers in a caress, the juicy taste making you hum out in pleasure.
In a second, you were turned around, “there’s something on your lips,” Hyuck muttered, expression stoic as he brushed his thumb on your lower lip, “all cleaned.”
You would have laughed at the jealousy had his action not been so intimidating, as if he was warning you not to do this.
“Thanks,” you said, voice extra sweet before you looked back at Jaemin who was confused at the exchange, “can I have more?” You asked.
“Here.” Hyuck shoved a plate in your hands before Jaemin could even reply, “enjoy your food,” he said, smiling but his eye twitched in the process, making you bite your lower lip to contain your laugh yet again and you sat down finally.
“Do you think the water would be cold right now?” Jeno asked no one in general, his intrusive thoughts winning.
“Why? Wanna take a dip?” Mark asked with a laugh, eyebrows raising once he realized that Jeno was serious about it.
“It’ll be fun,” he said as everyone laughed around him.
“There’s no light out here, Jeno,” Renjun said.
“It’ll be fun.”
“The waves are strong too,” Mark reasoned.
“It’ll be fun.”
“Okay, his vocabulary is limited,” Hyuck said, sitting by you as Jaemin handed over the plates to everyone, Mark sparing a glance to make sure Hyuck didn’t sit too close to you.
“We can go one hour after eating, just dip our toes in,” Yunjin suggested and you guys agreed as Mark resumed playing his guitar.
“Have more, Y/n.” Jaemin smiled, giving you more pieces to eat from his own plate.
Haechan didn’t remember the last time he felt so pissed over something this small, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. It had been two whole days since you made your comeback in his life but those two days were enough for him to want you, granted he did have a crush on you for the longest time, only now it wasn’t just your sweetness he was attracted to.
“Thank you, nana,” you beamed, the nickname only infuriating Hyuck more while you could see Jaemin blush faintly and you truly wondered how all these goofballs pulled girls so easily.
“Nana,” Hyuck mocked under his breath, Yunjin noticing the atmosphere and slightly pushing you towards him.
“You’re doing brilliantly,” she whispered, “he looks like he’ll blow up anytime now.”
It felt nice, sitting in front of the bonfire while listening to others singing. You knew you were trying to make Hyuck jealous yet it was hard not to stare at his face, which basked in the glow of fire. He was already looking your way, noticing how you still had his ring on, which only tempted him to pull you on his lap, yet he knew it was impossible with your brother monitoring his every move.
“Let’s go into the water,” Jeno repeated, as Mark smirked.
“On the count of one, two,” he said, and didn’t even finish before your eyes widened as your brother came to pick you up in hopes of throwing you into the cold water.
Mark was escapable. Jeno on the other hand, not so much and it didn’t help how they both had lifted you up despite your thrashing and whining and ran towards the water.
“Mark I swear I’ll kill you—” you warned and Yunjin had the time of her life recording this whole scene.
Renjun continuously reminded the boys to stay safe while also doing god’s work by providing you with the flashlight set on the highest setting from his phone.
Within a second, you were screaming and thrashing as the boys dropped you into the cold water, laughing and doing the same with a horrified Renjun before rushing towards the mansion, especially Mark, leaving you all cold.
Hyuck rushed to close the flashlight.
You were wearing white, and the water only made your clothes look transparent, which is why Hyuck was taking his jacket off, but yet again, Jaemin was quick to wrap his leather jacket around your shivering frame.
He was glad that you were covered but the annoyance was clear on his face, the amusement long gone even with you muttering and plotting Mark and Jeno’s murder with Renjun.
Nor did he enjoy the sight of Jaemin taking you back to the villa, acting all protective as if he was your knight in shining armour.
“You’re making it so obvious that you’re jealous,” Yunjin quipped, noticing how everyone walked ahead of them, rushing to the mansion.
He laughed out, ending it with a scoff, “I have no reason to be,” he said, voice calm, “she’s mine anyways,” he shrugged, determination clear in his eyes.
“Wow, you’re not even scared to admit it out loud? What if Mark hears?” She asks and Hyuck’s expression sours.
“He wouldn’t approve. That’s a given but that’s not enough to stop me,” he shrugged yet again.
“Okay Mr. Someone is stealing your girl as we speak though,” Yunjin pointed out, a fake sympathetic scowl on her face.
Haechan hated feeling this way, the feeling where things do not go his way. He hadn’t felt this way since—forever. He had everything he wanted, but not you. Mark being a hindrance is something he considered to be normal till some extent, but Jaemin? That’s unacceptable.
“I’ll take care of it.”
It was one in the morning and you were wrapped up in a blanket, sitting down near the balcony to observe the spectrum of stars which you could have sworn were shining.
Being thrown into the water wasn’t the best experience per se, but you knew it would soon turn into a funny memory you guys would look back at someday in the future. Yet, it wasn’t something you were thinking about much, granted you had better things to ponder about.
Lee Haechan.
You well expected him to show at least a sliver of reaction, some sort of outburst during the evening, however it never came. Either he was plotting revenge or he simply didn’t care enough. Or he was trying to keep it in, your mind tried to reason with you.
You sighed, getting up and closing the sliding doors of the big balcony in hopes of getting a cozy sleep. You needed that warmth after all. Just as you dropped the blanket on the bed, the door swung open—which shouldn’t have happened, given that you were sure you had locked it.
Haechan entered the room, closing the door behind him and you couldn’t help but stand at your place, shocked at his sudden appearance, “how did you—”
“It’s my place, I can get in and out anytime I want,” he replied, voice smooth, giving you goosebumps as he walked closer to you.
He was clad in sweatpants and a white T-shirt, the attire was simple, yet he made it look a hundred times more attractive than the usual.
“Oh,” you breathed out, the dim lights of the room caused his skin to glow a beautiful shade of golden.
There wasn’t a single ounce of jealousy on his face, rather, he looked content with the setting, settling down and sitting on the corner of the bed, his dark eyes staring at you, the silence louder than ever.
“Uhm, so—did you want something?” You asked, wincing at your tone as you suddenly felt conscious under his gaze, slightly aroused too, not knowing what he was actually here for.
He clicked his tongue, looking away for a second before his eyes settled on you for the second time.
Hyuck gave you no time to process anything as his hands grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him in a single hard tug, which had your body stumbling forward and right on his lap.
He held on to your waist, helping you stabilize your balance, “what’s wrong, princess? You were so confident, getting cozy with Jaemin, huh?” He raise his brow, letting the possessiveness show on his face, the I don’t give a fuck facade disappearing.
Your breath hitched with the movement of his fingers on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on the part where your top had ridden up to expose your skin.
“He was just being nice,” you breathed out, shivering slightly.
He rolled his eyes at your statement, a scoff leaving his lips before he leaned in, earning a gasp out of you. His nose caressed yours, and you were scared to move, his lips hovering above yours.
“Just being nice my ass,” he clicked his tongue yet again, and suddenly you were hyper aware about the fact that you were breathing in the same air, “you wanted to know my intentions, right, princess?” He asked, “then listen, I want you all to myself,” his tone was raspy, your fingers digging into his shoulders for support, “don’t think I didn’t notice your subtle glances towards me, especially when you were with Jaemin,” he chuckled and you gulped, looking elsewhere.
He was quick to grab your chin, making you look right in his eyes, “trying to get me jealous, darling? Well, good for you, it fucking worked.”
“Hyuck—” you whimper, your body heating up as you realized you were sitting right on his crotch.
“Shh, bad girls don’t get to talk,” he shook his head, disappointed, “now what do we do about this? Maybe I’ll just have to claim your body to make you understand that you don’t need to make me jealous to have all my attention,” he suggested.
You could feel the wetness down in your lacy panties and he hadn’t even touched you. Something about the way his voice came out so luscious, something about the way his touch made you feel like putty, something about his eyes made you feel mesmerized.
“Tell me, baby. Can I mark you mine?” He asked and you felt your heart flutter, his voice was gentle when he asked for your consent, and you couldn’t hold back from wanting him anymore, nodding gently, “use your words, love,” he urged, lips parted.
“Yes,” you whispered, grabbing on to him as he bit your lip, eliciting another gasp out of you, a teasing smirk on his face.
“Yeah? You sure you can handle it?” He asked and you tugged on to his collar, impatiently pulling you to him.
“Let’s find out,” you mumbled.
Without any more delay, you closed the distance between you both, his hand coming to rest on your nape, tilting your head to kiss you passionately, his tongue brushing over your lips, parting them with ease for your tongue to graze the tip of his own.
The room felt misty as you continued to kiss, his kisses getting more possessive by second, thinking about how no one else should have you, that you belong to him. He picked you up with ease, putting you underneath him on the bed, his kisses trailing down as you took a deep breath.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbled midway kisses, some were long, especially the ones around your clavicle and neck region while the others were feather soft, driving you insane to the point of no return. It only ascended when his fingers finally lifted up your top, exploring the expanse of your skin with teasing touches.
Your back arched as soon as he caresses the area under your tits, before cupping them fully, leaning back to get rid of your top altogether. You couldn’t shy under his gaze, the way he looked at you only boosted your confidence, as if he was a predator hungry for a meal and you were his precious prey, all ready to be devoured.
He had no time to waste, his mouth working fast to lean down, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, noticing how you react to his each touch, fondling your other tit, hearing you whimper and beg for more, his name chanting on your lips out of sheer pleasure.
“It’s so fucking cute how your body reacts to every little touch of mine,” he whispered, biting your earlobe in the process, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he stuffed his pretty fingers inside your shorts, chuckling when he realizes how soiled your lacy panties had gotten, “fuck, I wanna taste that pretty cunt,” he says, taking off his T-shirt before doing the same to your shorts, dragging your panties down alongside it.
You found yourself drooling at the sight of Hyuck’s muscles, he had started going to the gym and the results were clearly visible on his body, but you were ripped out of your thought train when he bit your inner thigh, causing you to clench around nothing, giving you kisses and licks all over, but not touching the part where you needed him the most.
“P—please,” you cried out of frustration, and he immersed himself, licking a big stripe of your wet cunt, genuinely loving the taste as he hummed with satisfaction, holding your thighs open with his strong arms, “oh god,” you moaned out, causing him to smirk against your wetness, pressing sweet kisses to your clit.
It felt like heaven when you were being destroyed by the demon himself.
Hyuck was hard, his thick cock barely containing itself from splitting your pussy into two, but he wanted to see you fall apart on his tongue first, “your cunt,” he said, licking it to make a point, “belongs to me,” he whispered and you nodded.
“It’s yours—all yours!”
“That’s my good fucking girl, you’re all mine,” he said, his tongue prodding at your entrance, fucking your pussy, which gave you more pleasure than you had ever felt through your life.
It didn’t take long for you to feel your lower abdomen tightening, your fingers tugging on his silky black roots as he ate you out like a madman, as if he was drunk in the essence of your pussy. With a cry, you found yourself falling apart all over his tongue and he lapped it up, coming to kiss you right after, letting you taste yourself in his mouth. He knew you’d be overstimulated, but that’s exactly what he was aiming for when he finally pulled out his cock. You knew he’d be thick, but you underestimated him still, knowing well his cock wouldn’t fit in your cunt.
“Gonna claim you mine,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers with yours as he positioned himself on your entrance, “fuck, you’re all mine,” he said, kissing you deeply to absorb all yours moans as he pushed himself inside you.
Your wetness helped him, yet he had to thrust in a few times to bottom out and could feel yourself clenching around him uncontrollably, loving the stretch and also the fact that he was twitching inside of you.
His fingers grabbed your hips in a tight hold as he started pistoning into you at a pace which you hadn’t expected, and you were sure you looked crazy with how your eyes were teary, your hair a mess and your lips swollen, courtesy of the boy who groaned and slapped your cunt, fucking you deeper.
“That’s it, baby, you’re taking me so well,” he praised and you let out broken sentences which he couldn’t comprehend, you were too gone, pushed into your subspace to the point you simply let Hyuck do all the work, moaning and whimpering for him, trying to keep your noises at bay in case anyone wakes up.
Just when you both were about to read your high, he stopped fucking you, making you whimper out in distress, only to have you flipped with your ass up and head down on the pillow.
It didn’t take him a second before he was entering your cunt again, fucking you from behind in hopes of giving you the brutal backshots you deserved, to fuck you in a way that you’ll be ruined forever, not even wanting to go back to another guy for their cock.
This also gave him the perfect opportunity to spank your ass, the hurt only making you clench around him harder.
“Fuck—I’m so—so close,” you sobbed, voice coming out muffled and Hyuck rubbed your clit to stimulate you further.
“Go on, baby. Give me everything,” he urged and you both finally let go, groaning and whining as he filled you up with his cum, mixing it with your juices.
It felt as if the universe had blessed you with the highest amount of unadulterated pleasure one could have, and your eyes closed shut as Hyuck lay down next to you, breathing in and out just as quick as you to regain his strength to breathe properly.
“Y/n,” he whispered, more gently this time, pulling you into a sweet kiss as you smiled into it, finding it amusing that he was the same guy who brutally fucked you not even a few minutes back, “you really are mine, yeah?” He said, caressing your cheek.
“Yeah?” You asked in a whisper and he nodded earnestly, getting a washcloth and helping you into the bathroom, feeling proud when you couldn’t stand up properly.
He was sweet. Sweeter than you had ever expected him to be and that’s why you found yourself kissing him again, and again as you both washed up in the shower, turning it to the point you both couldn’t help but giggle, his forehead resting against yours.
“I really do like you, baby,” he whispered.
“I really like you too, Hyuck,” you replied, feeling happier than you had ever felt, spending a while in his embrace, talking and kissing and eventually, falling asleep in his arms as you both smiled faintly, even in your deep slumber.
Hurt.
That’s what your body felt the second you blinked open your eyes. Images from last night revisiting you as a montage, a small smile lingered on your face, discarding the fact that you were disappointed, not having Hyuck by your side when you woke up, but then again, it was still better than getting caught by Mark.
With the support of the bedside tables, you managed to stand up on your wobbly feet, stablizing yourself before going into the bathroom to freshen up, you needed that long bath to soothe down your muscles.
Now wrapped up in your bath robe, you passed by the door, only to hear the sound of someone arguing. Curiosity got the best of you as you walked back, twisting the knob to open it just the right amount for it to not be noticeable, gladly the door opened seamlessly.
“Stop playing with her feelings,” Jaemin whisper-yelled, and your heartbeat rose when you saw how it was directed towards Hyuck.
“Who the fuck even said I’m playing with her?” Hyuck asked, his voice full of exasperation and anger.
Jaemin scoffed, you hadn’t seen that expression on his face, ever. “So you’re just gonna go around fucking her right after Mark told you, specifically might I add, to stay away from her. What are you trying to do here? Take revenge by proving a point?”
Your heart dropped hearing that sentence. Sneaking around made sense because Mark would, without any doubts, be against this setting, but what revenge was Jaemin talking about? When did Mark ask Hyuck to stay away from her, specifically at that?
“That’s none of your business,” Hyuck replied, teeth gritted, “besides, weren’t you the one begging for her attention by putting up your good boy act? We aren’t that different, Jaemin,” he mocked, “you only want her cause she’s Mark’s sister.”
Your lip wobbled at his confession, he hadn’t agreed to Jaemin’s claims yet he hadn’t denied it either and suddenly you didn’t feel comfortable, all the positive energy drained as you rushed to get dressed, to get out.
You trusted Hyuck too easily, and you knew you’d have to confront him about this, but you didn’t feel like doing it now. You wanted to go back home, alone, to deal with your inconvenience which would bother you for a while now.
So you did what you had to do: run away from your problems.
You texted Mark that you’d be taking his car, also mentioning it to Yunjin that you’ll be going back home, as you rushed to get dressed up and sneak out of the place without Hyuck knowing, and you were successful in doing so, sighing as soon as you started driving back.
Hyuck thought you were sleeping in, and he couldn’t enter your room with everyone being awake and roaming around, especially when Jaemin knew what you two had done last night.
The reminder only made him smile, as cliche as it sounds, he had never felt this way with other girls, your little confession only made his heart beat faster. You liked him back, and that’s all that mattered.
“Yo, why did Y/n leave? She’s not picking up the calls either?” Hyuck heard Mark ask Yunjin, who knew exactly what was up.
“She’s got some work to take care of, you don’t have to worry about it,” Yunjin patted his shoulder before making her way out to the beach to call you again. She knows you want space, but she also knows you like it when she checks up on you.
Now, that was news to Hyuck, his eyes widening as he rushed to open the door to your room, only to find you weren’t actually there.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, getting his phone out and calling you, only for it to get declined, “no, fuck,” he groaned, thinking about if he upset you in any way, yet he couldn’t understand why you’d leave, especially when you were so happy when you went to sleep.
Or maybe she heard you talking to Jaemin, his subconscious spoke up, making him lose his mind and punch the wall next to him, running down the stairs to follow Yunjin, calling out her name which caused her to pause and remove her sunglasses.
“Where is Y/n?” He asked, breathing heavily.
“Are you playing with her feelings?” She asked instead of replying to his question, “cause if that’s the case then I don’t care if we’re staying at your mansion, I’ll have to kick and break your baby making machine.” Her smile was threatening.
“Oh god, that’s not it!” Hyuck was frustrated, “I’ve liked her since we were kids, I'm not joking around,” he said earnestly, “is she upset, why did she leave?”
Yunjin watched the boy with amusement in her eyes, “you’re so dumb actually. If you like her enough then why aren’t you running after her right now? Get in your car and get your girl, shoo,” she dismissed him and Hyuck didn’t wait to chat about how she shouldn’t shoo him away, rather, he ran to grab his car keys, not paying attention to Renjun who asked why he was in such a hurry.
Hyuck didn’t want any miscommunications whatsoever, it had been an hour since you had left, and it’ll probably be impossible to cover that distance in a short while so he decided to drive faster and get to your place.
“Y/n, baby, please listen to me,” he muttered to himself, trying to call you again.
You weren’t dating. It had barely been a week since you came back, a few days since he had started to get to know this new side of you and he didn’t want it to stop, not when he’s genuinely liked you for so long, minus his fuckboy ways of course.
Mark had tried to call him a few times too, sensing that something was up, yet Hyuck didn’t pick up those calls, focusing on driving till he finally reached your place, relieved to see Mark’s car parked there.
He knew there was an extra key under the third potted plant on the entrance, and that’s exactly what he took and opened the door. The living room was empty, which caused him to rush up the stairs to find you in your room, his chest heaving up and down.
The sudden voice startled you, your mouth going dry at the sight of Hyuck.
You couldn’t avoid him after all.
“Hyuck, is everything okay? What are you doing here—why are you here?” You asked, pretending to be okay.
“Did you hear us in the morning?” He asked, eyes softer than you had ever seen.
You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped, gulping down your emotions before staring at your feet, “I did,” you whispered, “but it’s fine, Hyuck. The sex was great—”
You didn’t look up while rambling, and it was cut short when Hyuck pulled you into his embrace, warmth spreading all over your body with how he held you close to him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so broken seeing someone’s face, and he couldn’t handle that it was because of him that you felt this hurt.
“That’s not true,” he whispered, holding you tighter, you could feel tears forming in your eyes.
“N—no one’s ever approached me because of Mark,” your voice came out muffled, and Hyuck leaned back slightly just to look at your face, his thumb wiping the stray tear that cascaded down your cheek, “i felt like no one wanted to befriend me for me, all girls wanted to get to him through me and all the boys were so scared,” you laughed pathetically, knowing that your story wasn’t even sob worthy, “but you were the only one who still talked to me, even if it was just greeting me, asking me about my day,” you let out your breath.
“Baby,” Hyuck cupped your cheeks.
“You were the only exception, Hyuck. Maybe that’s the reason I’ve always liked you so much. So tell me, was it all a joke?” You asked, eyes serious.
“It wasn’t,” he shook his head, gulping down before explaining it to you, “it happened at the party when I offered to drop you home but Mark was against it, thinking that I would use you to only fuck you, but that was not my intention I swear,” he says with a frown.
“So that’s what you did,” your voice barely came out, it sounded broken.
“God—no. No. I could never do that to you,” he felt helpless, trying to word his sentence properly, “I’ve liked you since we were kids, and I was heartbroken when you switched schools and cities. But I just got so excited when Mark told us that you were back—I wanted to see you, talk to you, but Mark only gave me a reminder that I couldn’t have you.”
You listened to him, your heart undoubtedly fluttering with how earnest his eyes looked, how the distress of being denied of you flashed clearly on his face.
You really wanted to kiss him.
“And when he gave all those permissions to Jaemin, I couldn’t help it. I never had revenge in my mind Y/n. I like you too much to hurt you, and I know we’re not even dating right now, but I don’t want anyone to ruin it for us even before our story starts and I swear to god I’ll fight Mark if it means that I can have you,” he breathed out, cheeks flushed as he had confessed to someone for the very first time.
You broke into a smile despite the tears in your eyes, “you promise?” You held up your pinky finger.
He laced his pinky finger with yours, tugging it so you stumble slightly, and he takes it as an opportunity to pull you into a deep kiss, his soft lips caressing yours in a possessive hold, promising that he’ll take care of you.
“Good, cause I was going to be really upset if you didn’t,” you mumbled against his lips.
He chuckled before saying, “don’t ever run away from me, yeah?”
You nodded, hugging him back tighter as you felt your anxiety calming down, your smile widening as he kissed your forehead, easing out your worries and you were sure you wanted to give it a try—you wanted to give you both a try.
Yet another problem lingered in your mind.
“So, about Mark,” you winced, knowing it’ll be disastrous.
“Shh, we’ll think about him later,” he mumbled, but the peacefulness wasn’t here to stay for long as a loud voice boomed up, indicating that Jaemin had snitched.
“Lee fucking Donghyuck, I told you to stay away from my sister!” Mark shouted, your eyes widening as you both looked at each other.
“Fuck, hide!”
Despite the chaos of hiding in your closet, you knew that Hyuck would always be your exception.
THANK YOU FOR READING!
TAGGING: @ajayke-reads @jenoslutie @jjaeyuns @heesuncore @celeste-hoon
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#fic : the only exception#haechan smut#haechan angst#haechan au#haechan x reader#nct smut#nct dream smut#kpop smut#donghyuck smut#nct 127 smut#haechan scenarios#nct fanfic#lee haechan smut
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haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 1 of 3
wc: 22k (!!!!!!!)
genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff
warnings: loss of virginity, very soft sex (hand-holding during sex), lots of kissing, protected sex, haechan fucks...a lot, fingering, oral (f receiving), very faint corruption kink, JEALOUSY, possessiveness (marking, signing on your body), handjob, car sex, cumplay, spit, exhibitionism (!), slight dumbification, slight degradation, titty-sucking etc, sweet aftercare
a/n: i worked a lot on this and i really hope u like it.... i really hope it's hot... i hope u like rockstar haechan...please let me know what u think...
(fic playlists) | browse the fic tag :)
he's been staring at you all night.
the bass thrums insistent in your chest, overriding your heartbeat, as you cling onto the barrier between the stage and the crowd. lights flash before your eyes, almost blinding you with how fast they blinked, and you can barely make out the faces of the boys onstage as they play their last song of the night. the air is damp, excitement riding high over the crowd in waves of endless screams that never seem to stop.
and the boy on the far right, fingers moving deftly over the strings of his electric guitar, hasn't taken his eyes off you for the last five minutes.
a sharp smile tugs at his lips, smokey makeup making his gaze ever more piercing as he looks down at you through his overgrown bangs, hairs at the nape of his neck unruly and wild. the lights throw the features of his face into high contrast, the tattoos curling on his neck and hip screaming for attention, as do the glint of jewelry scattered everywhere on his body. you feel smaller and smaller under his gaze, something lewd about the way he runs his tongue over his lips, eyes practically undressing you. he never seemed to stop moving his body as he played, bouncing on his toes or letting his body lean away from the sound, the music fuelling and becoming one with his movements as if he were a dancer.
as the music crashes and swells towards the end of his solo, his eyes slide over to yours with a practiced precision, as if he had memorized your position in the crowd. swaying his hips from side to side, his eyelids droop just slightly into a half-lidded stare, as he ruts his hips playfully against his guitar.
the screams of the other fans are deafening, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of your heartbeat in your own ears.
haechan finally looks away, a small smile on his face as he signals to his bandmates towards the song's ending. you feel almost empty as the weight of his attention lifts off of you, pressing yourself up against the railing on tip-toe to try and catch his eye again before sinking down and feeling like an idiot.
he was just doing fanservice for an audience member, nothing more. you try not to find his actions endearing as he slings his arm around the lead singer, mark, his surprisingly boyish laugh making your heart flutter in your chest as he waves towards his fans one more time.
people are leaving the venue, the sounds of their excitement getting further and further away, but you stand there, reeling, clutching onto the metal barrier, sure that if you took your hands off it you would fall. finally, glancing up at the stage one last time, you're just about to leave to find your friend, the only reason you were even here, when –
"leaving so soon?"
the boy is sitting on the stage right in front of you, leaning forward so you can see his face clearly. up close, he's even prettier than before, delicate almost doll-like legs wrapped under ripped skinny jeans, leading up to thick and toned thighs, his slender waist shadowed under his large leather jacket ridden with buckles and straps. without the bright stage lights, you can see the moles on his skin, tracing a dangerous path under the collar of his shirt.
at your lack of response, he raises his eyebrows. "i asked if you were leaving, princess."
"i have to find my friend," the words come out rushed. "um…jaemin? your band hired him tonight as the photographer."
"i remember," he nods. "so…you're not a fan?"
"no." he nods, silence filling the space between the both of you. you can see him start to formulate a goodbye, his heart-shaped lips parting, but you don't want the conversation to end, you don't want him to stop looking at you. "- but…i really enjoyed your show."
he looks a little surprised, and a genuine smile spreads sweetly across his face. "why?" he challenges.
"what?"
"what did you like about our show?" his eyes glint, and you know he's teasing you.
"the songs were good," you mumble.
"yeah?" he licks his lips, a slight hint of nervousness showing on his face as he clears his throat. "who was your favorite member?"
"huh?"
"your favorite band member," he repeats, tilting his head to the side. "jeno, he's our drummer, mark's the lead singer, jisung plays bass and i…" he waves his hand absentmindedly towards his guitar, on the stand, still onstage behind him. "i'm haechan," he adds.
if you wanted to get to know him, it wouldn't hurt to show a little of exactly how much you liked him, would it? "you were my favorite," you admit. "you…you have really good stage presence," you blurt out.
"stage presence?"
"yeah. when i'm in the crowd…i can't really pay attention to anything else. and you…" you swallow, heat burning up your cheeks, but the way his eyes were looking at you with curiosity making you finish your thought. "you make the audience feel like they want to please you." the unspoken truth, that you, as part of the audience, wanted to please him, hangs in the air.
your embarrassment, at saying something so suggestive and raw, is quickly washed away by the smile tugging at the corner of his lip, a smirk that quickly spreads across his face into a grin. you're so mesmerized by it, that you're taken aback by the way he suddenly shifts, hopping down the stage lightly and standing in front of you.
"princess," he says, softly, placing his hands on the railing next to yours so the sides of your fingers barely brush. "do you want to come to a party?"
you resist the urge to immediately say yes. "what party?"
"there's one after every show. jaemin will have been invited, he can take you." the venue has emptied out, even his bandmates have left the stage. and yet, his voice is pitched low as he leans in, body warmth radiating off of him, and you are so close, you can see the smudged eyeliner on his lower lash line, can make out the grey of his colored contact lenses. "you can find me there."
"but…" you feel lost. "why can't you just take me?"
"if we show up together, it'll seem a little like we're dating, no?" his voice is quiet, but firm.
hurt and confusion blossoms in your chest. was it really that serious? keeping your voice as nonchalant as possible, you ask, "would that be so bad? for…for us to date?”
but you know it's the wrong thing to say.
he exhales slowly, a brief look of pain flitting over his features. he hated doing this, hated reaching the point in conversations where rules and boundaries had to be discussed. nights where he found his girls at the party were the easiest, letting body language and long glances do the talking, as few strings attached as possible.
but today he couldn't stop looking at you, in the front row, couldn't help sliding his eyes over and checking to see if you were watching him, a pleased thrum burning in his chest every time his gaze found yours. it seemed logical, to spend his time with you tonight. but if he'd known you'd felt like this, he never would have waited onstage.
"what's your name, princess?"
"y/n."
"y/n, i'm not making you my girlfriend," he states, bluntly. "i can't, and i don't want to. you can meet me at the party later, but we'll just fuck – nothing else."
his words make you feel small, his tone harsh compared to his previous meandering way of speaking. even then, the thought of letting him walk away, to never see him again, to end this story on this moment, made you feel worse than anything.
at the look on your face, he softens slightly.
"i'm sorry if you thought this was going to be more," he says, quietly. "you don't have to do anything you don't want to."
"i do," you correct him. frustrated, he sighs, and you rush to clarify. "i'll meet you at the party. just…nothing else." your end off hesitantly, unwilling to echo his crude words.
"are you sure?" you think you see his gaze darken, the tension suddenly heightening as he places one of his large hands over your own. his guitar-calloused fingertips are rough as they slide against the back of your hand, drawing shapes that burn into your skin like tattoos. you nod, but he shakes his head — slowly, sweetly patient. "i need to hear you say it," he murmurs, and the words go straight to your gut.
"i'm sure." your voice comes out as a whisper, but he doesn't seem to mind. he leans in, and just when you think your lips are going to meet, your mouth parting expectantly, he tilts his head and kisses you softly on your cheek.
"make sure no one sees you, princess," he murmurs, low in your ear, before straightening up. "don't make me wait too long, hm?"
—
"did anyone follow you up here?"
haechan sits with his legs hanging off the edge of the roof, arms slung over one of the lower rungs of the railing. he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes another drink from his bottle of red wine, knowing that you're hanging onto his every word.
"no," you reply, voice barely louder than a whisper. you repeat yourself again, louder, hating the way your voice shakes with hesitance. "no, i don't think so."
he exhales, shrugging off the leather jacket that hangs large over his frame, his shoulderblades moving under his white shirt, veiny arms pushing the bottle to the side as he shifts himself backwards fluidly so he's further away from the ledge, his long legs stretched out.
"well?" and now he turns to look at you, dark eyes framed with makeup searching for yours, his gaze heavy. the piercing on his eyebrow glints in the moonlight, and when he leans his weight back on his hands, his shirt rides up so that you can see just the hint of a tattoo curling low on his hip. "are you ready?"
feet unsteady, you shuffle over to him, standing over him as he watches you through hooded eyes. unsure, you start to sit down next to him, but a hand quickly reaches out to touch your knee, dragging his touch up the back of your thigh, the cold scrape of his rings on your skin feeling rough and claiming all at once. his lips part almost mockingly, commanding you without words to stop.
he flicks his gaze down to his lap, eyes flickering back up to yours. eyebrows raised, as if in a challenge.
slowly, you lower yourself onto his lap, hands hesitantly grasping for his shoulders. his arms come to steady your waist, slipping under your shirt and touching bare skin, feeling the way your body shifts and moves. it's only because your body is pressed up against his, his hands are roaming up and down your thighs, that he notices something which makes him halt his movements, licking his lips.
"you're shaking," he murmurs, now brushing the hair out of your eyes, tucking a strand behind your ear as he studies you, taking in the way you're all tensed up, the uncomfortable way your legs are folded, goosebumps erupting every time his fingertips brushed your skin, muscles trembling.
you swallow. "i've never done this before," you admit.
his eyes widen, now removing his hands from you entirely, letting them fall. "you're a virgin?"
you nod, heart pounding in your chest. he's looking away, his jaw set, his gaze hardened. did he hate that you had no experience? or would he enjoy that? "i can…" the words come out in a jumble, "you can teach me, i want… i want to-"
"no." with surprising gentleness, he motions for you to move off his lap, and you follow his actions mindlessly, docile under his touch.
"do you think i won't be good enough?" you ask, hating the way your voice comes out wounded and achy, hating how weak he made you.
he pauses, tongue poking into the side of his cheek, and you think you can see a flash of something deep in his eyes.
"y/n…i can't be your first time."
"but i want –"
"you need to be with someone who will take care of you." despite his words, his voice is cold, and clear. "i don't do that." he dusts off his jacket, shrugging it back on as he takes another drink from the bottle, eyes closed, unwilling to look at you for another second. "go home, y/n. i'll see you at the next show."
you don't move. you kneel there, next to him, eyes desperately searching for his.
"go home, y/n," he repeats, harshly.
"i want to stay here," you bite back, stubbornly, hurt making your voice brittle.
"then you'll have to watch me fuck someone else." lazily, he reaches into the pocket of his jacket for his phone, and you can see him scroll through his messages, faces and names blurring as you barely decipher him type out another message. his fingers moving across the keyboard, as the anonymous responder sends a series of heart emojis, eagerness palpable through the screen. he locks his phone, the click sound startling you out of your daze, and he puts his phone down on his lap, the action somehow mocking.
"so?" he's still not looking at you, staring straight ahead into the night. "do you want to watch?"
and as you make your way down the stairs, shame burning at your neck and tears burning hot down your cheeks, you can swear you feel his eyes follow you all the way down.
—
the feeling of embarrassment curdles in your stomach, and leaves a sour taste in your mouth every time you look in the mirror. it's what leads you to skip the next show, making an excuse to jaemin about 'having other plans'. and then the other, and then the other. and then it's been a week, and your friend has finally managed to drag you to one of their after-parties, pushing you through the door with a little too much enthusiasm. he knows something is bothering you, and he wants nothing more than to help take your mind off of it — but he has no idea that the something is currently leaning against the archway leading off into the living room, nursing a bottle of beer in his hands, and brushing his hands around some girl's waist in a way that made you feel sick.
jaemin introduces you to mark, out on the balcony. mark is sweet, and friendly, a regular boy-next-door who happens to have face gems twinkling next to his eyes and leather pants tight around his thighs. he asks you about college, and work. he talks about the songs he's writing on his guitar. he catches your drink when you almost drop it over the railing, an easy smile on his face when his fingers brush yours passing it back to you, and a shy grin when he reaches out to lace his fingers with yours properly.
"i'm really busy, but i'd love to talk to you more," he says, sincerely, as he takes your phone from your hands to key in his number. he texts himself so his contact is at the top of your messages, making you promise to text him when you get back. he looks at you meaningfully, squeezing your hand before dropping it to go back to his party.
there's a moment, where you think to follow.
but then all of it – every touch, every glance, every speck of light you counted reflected in marks' wide eyes, — all of it is wiped clean the moment you hear a familiar low voice.
"trying to get with my friends now, princess?"
when the light illuminates his silhouette, hurt registers before anything else.
hickeys bloom across the side of haechan's neck, trailing down to his chest. only a simple mesh top lies underneath his leather jacket, and you can see the shadows of a few more bruises on his torso when his arm shifts, tugging the jacket open just slightly. his hair is a mess, tugged this way and that by desperate hands, and you think there may be a smear of bright pink lipstick at the corner of his lips. you can smell the reek of flowery perfume, cloyingly sweet, all over his clothes, as he leans back against the railing, eyes turned towards the party happening behind the sliding glass doors.
"i thought you said i was your favorite band member," he murmurs, a mock expression of sadness on his face. "mark's nothing like me."
"why do you care?" you will yourself to sound more confident, letting the hurt dissolve into defiance.
"i don't." the pout has melted off his face, a burning intensity now in the way he stares at you, making you shift uncomfortably. a moment passes, where he studies your face, eyes flicking across your features almost methodically. "so am i?"
"what?"
"am i still your favorite?" his voice is bitter, as if he knows the answer before asking and he doesn't like it.
"are you seriously asking me that?"
"princess –"
he's interrupted by a chime from your phone. the both of you glance down at it at the same time, the text and the sender unmistakeable on your otherwise empty lockscreen.
mark <3 : thanks for talking to me today :) let me know when you get home safe!
there's a pause.
"mark has a girlfriend," haechan blurts out, his voice coarse.
"what?" you look up at him, trying to figure out if this was a joke, but his face is impassive.
"he cheats on her all the time with girls from his parties. it's his thing." haechan's still looking at your screen even though your phone has turned off, resolutely not meeting your eyes.
it takes you a moment to gather yourself, every one of mark‘s actions and words suddenly flashing before you like a flipbook, sweet memories crumpling into dust. "are you lying?" you ask, shakily.
"why would i?" he finishes his beer, veins shifting on the back of his hand as he crushes the empty can, the crunch of metal dissonant against the warm summer night. his next words are just as rough. "whether or not you get with mark means nothing to me. i don't care. i don't even know you."
his words ring true, as he pushes off from the railing, leaving you alone on the balcony without another word. the abrupt end to the conversation has you turning, eyes following him as he steps back into the party, looking away a little too late as you see him gesture someone over with a flick of his fingers, her long hair covering both their faces when their lips meet.
jaemin finds you crying on the balcony, but he can't figure out the reason. you delete mark's contact off your phone the moment you get home, and jaemin promises you he's never taking you to any other show or party with the band ever again.
—
"there should be an empty room somewhere." the man lets go of your hand, at the foot of the stairs. "can you wait for me inside one? i'll find you in a minute."
it's only when you're halfway upstairs, when you realise that you're really about to give yourself to a stranger for your first time.
he has a bright smile, sweet dimples showing each time his lips turn upwards, each time he calls you baby. he's not much older than you, but there's an easy authority in the way he takes your cup from your hands and tells you to stop drinking, getting you glasses of water instead. his body dwarfs yours in size, and when you put your hand on his thigh, you see something shift in his expression that tells you he may not be as gentle as he seems.
and when you tell him he'll be your first time, his throat bobs as he swallows, eyes dragging up and down your body with a newfound hunger.
you've never really cared about who you lost your virginity to, not considering it a big occassion or anything to make a fuss over. your mind flits back to two weeks ago, when some boy had cared way more about it than you did.
"you need to be with someone who will take care of you."
anger flares in your chest at the thought of it, as you climb up the stairs two steps at a time, and it's just when you're just reaching the first landing, when you suddenly coming to a crashing halt because —
the sound of microphone feedback makes you put your hands over your ears, instinctively, the shrill sound piercing the air.
a loud bass suddenly starts up, vibrating under your feet. did they hire a live band? the song that booms from downstairs is familiar, and with a jolt, you realise that you know it a little too well.
that honey-sweet voice, the bitter bite to his words soothed over by the sweetest of tones – drifts up from the speaker, a haunting melody that echoes up the empty staircase, punctuated by a screaming crowd.
as if to further prove it was him, he lets out a laugh at the end of his line, the tone of it dark and sarcastic, the crowd going wild at the sound of it.
was it a studio recording? it must be, because there was no way this band was downstairs, performing live at this random birthday party, there was no chance…
… except now mark is speaking into the microphone, greeting the audience, asking for the birthday girl. unease stirs in your stomach as you trace your steps back down, a dread that fills you up as the makeshift stage comes back into view, where the DJ had been just a moment ago.
to where haechan stood, guitar on its stand, eyes already trained on yours, an expression of white hot anger on his face.
—
"him? really?"
you can still feel his touch on your arm, from how he dragged you into the bedroom.
you're frozen on the steps.
haechan signals to mark, ignoring the questioning looks from the members and protests from the boy as he steps off the platform, making a beeline for the stairs. his brows are furrowed, his teeth gritted as he glares at you.
"you wanna go upstairs that bad?" he murmurs. "lead the fucking way, princess."
he starts towards you, and you take a step back, body colliding with the door. the sound seems to ground him, and he takes a deep breath, trying to calm down, finally turning away to sit on the bed, the space allowing you to relax just slightly.
"i thought," he starts, patiently, swallowing hard. "i thought i told you to find someone to take care of you, for your first time."
the reminder of his words feels like a stab in your chest. "i thought you didn't care," you shoot back.
he ignores you. "did you come here with your friends? where's jaemin?"
what the fuck was wrong with him? "who are you to tell me what to do?"
his lips part, but no words come out. sighing, he rubs his face with his hands, still trying to calm down. "y/n," he starts again, voice pained. "i don't want to see you get hurt."
"how do you know he would've hurt me?"
his eyes meet yours. "did you tell him?" he asks, quietly.
"tell him i was a virgin? yes." anger seeps into your tone, as you glare at him. "he reacted very differently from you."
"y/n that's not a good thing!" he stands up, his voice raised. "are you that desperate to get fucked?"
you step back in alarm, tears forming in your eyes. fear, of the situation you almost put yourself in, of the boy in front of you, makes your throat close up, and you can't help the way your body tenses. the cruelness of his words settles in a little too late, an acidic burn in your chest.
haechan feels the tips of his fingers go numb as you start to cry, guilt flooding his mind in a way he rarely felt. his face crumples, and he does't know what to do when you curl in on yourself, every sound you make feeling like a punch to his ribs.
"i'm sorry," he whispers, reaching for you tentatively. when you don't pull away, his arms circle around you, and he makes sure to leave enough space for you to breathe or break free if you wanted to. "i'm sorry," he repeats again, as you sink into his chest, needing his warmth as much as you hated his presence.
"take it back," you mumble. "take it back right now."
"i take it back," he says, immediately. "i didn't mean any of it. i'm sorry."
"you don't get to reject me," you start, voice shaky, "and control who i choose to be with."
he sucks in a breath, gripping onto you a little tighter. "y/n –"
"it's…it's fucked up," you hiccup, fisting at the fabric of his shirt, crumpling it in your fists in frustration.
"i know," he breathes. "i know."
his hand comes up to stroke your hair, and you hate how it really does manage to comfort you, your breaths steadying as he pats your back clumsily. when you think you've calmed down enough, you place your hands on his chest, and he backs away instinctively, looking down at his feet. never meeting your eyes.
"i'm tired, haechan," you whisper. "i don't want to play whatever game you're playing." he doesn't respond, so you continue. "you don't want to fuck me, but you don't want anyone else to."
"i do." his response is so quiet, you barely catch it.
"you want other people to fuck me?"
"no, i don't." he lifts his head, his expression conflicted. "i…i want to be your first time."
"what?"
when he doesn't respond, you sigh, agitated. "haechan, i already told you i don't want to play your games anymore –"
"not a game," he cuts you off, softly. "i'll take care of you." the gentleness of his voice makes you feel small. it's almost overwhelming, the way he looks into your eyes, without his usual apathy and bitterness.
"i thought you said you don't do that?" it takes you all your willpower to not give in.
"i don't," he breathes. "but with you i will." he's starting to think he has no choice – that there's no one else in the world who's going to take care of you the way he knows you need. he doesn't know when he decided to give in, in between watching you place your hand on that man's thigh, and you standing in front of him now. all he knows is that he either had to do this, or make you disappear from his life entirely.
the words hang in the air. even now, feeling so torn and hurt and tired, your body can't help how much you want him, hyper-attuned to the little details in his appearance: the messy black nail polish scrawled on his nails, smoky eye make-up that makes his gaze all the more intense and devouring. there's a heady smell hanging onto his skin and clothes, rich and indulgent vanilla and musk, filling up your senses with a giddy desire. long legs in a pair of ripped skinny jeans, his thighs stretching out the fabric in a way that almost looked like it hurt.
"okay," you mumble. his lips part, but you answer him before he has a chance to ask. "please take care of me." your voice is small, yet each word seems to catch fire, incinerating the air between you.
his tongue darts out, wetting his lip. "yeah?"
you nod. finally giving in to the pull of your body, you take a step closer, looking up at him through your lashes.
"i'm sorry…about all of it." he murmurs. "thank you for trusting me, still."
you can't think of anything to say, so you nod again. it feels like your heart is in your throat.
he swallows. "do you…you shouldn't…" his eyes dart around the room. "we shouldn't do it here. in…in some strangers bedroom." gently, he touches your arm, looking at you hesitantly. "would you feel comfortable if we did it in your apartment? or i could bring you to my shared apartment with the band…they wouldn't be back yet. but we might have to be quick…"
your head feels like it's spinning.
at your lack of response, he rambles on, eyes focused on yours, trying to discern your thoughts. "w-what do you think? or…if you really want to get comfortable i don't mind booking a hotel, it's a little last minute but-" he bites his lip. "do you want to meet somewhere else or i could take you in my car? i haven't drank much, i swear, but if you don't trust me-"
"stop," you blurt out.
he freezes, the hand grazing your arm dropping to his side, fingers playing with the rips in his jeans.
"i'm sorry," he says, softly.
"no, i mean…stop asking me questions." you exhale. "i trust you," you repeat, softly. every word of it was true — despite everything, you were still the same person sitting on his lap up on the rooftop. "just…take care of me, however you want."
he swallows. "you sound…" exhaling, he shakes his head to clear it. "okay. is your apartment empty?"
"yes," you whisper. "jaemin's away for tonight."
"i'll drive," he murmurs. and now he takes a step closer to you, until he's all you can see, the room melting away. "but before that…can i kiss you first, princess?" you nod, transfixed by him, as he leans in.
haechan kisses soft.
his lips are plush, and soft, taking your bottom lip between his own sweetly. he tilts his head slowly as if he's afraid he'll overwhelm you by moving too fast, his lips parting as he invites you to do the same, his hands going to the back of your head to guide you. a soft sigh escapes the back of his throat when your lips part and he can taste you, and you can taste him — vanilla like how he smells, with the slight bite of alcohol. your hand comes up to touch his round cheeks, surprisingly soft too, and he smiles into this kiss.
he's the one to break apart from you, with a patience that feels rehearsed. he's taking care of you, as he leans in so your noses brush, your breaths mingling.
"haechan…" he hums, encouragingly. "i…you know this isn't…my first kiss, right?"
a pause. "i know," he murmurs.
"so… so you don't have to be gentle." you squirm slightly as his touch grows heavier, eyes darkening at the implications behind your words.
he backs away from you, hands pulling you with him as he sits down on the bed. his eyes flick down to his lap as he lowers his gaze, before dragging them painstakingly up to yours again.
"sit, princess."
this time, when he feels you tremble against him, your knees caging in his hips as you straddle him, all he does is lean in and kiss you — just as sweet as he did the first time.
"i'm gentle with you because i want to be," another kiss, his tongue sliding against your bottom lip. "not because i have to." his fingers guide your chin upwards, baring your neck to him as he leans in and leaves a kiss on a spot under your jaw. and then a longer, more lingering kiss. and now he's making his way down your neck, each press of his lips on your skin longer and rougher than the last, and now you're sure he's sucking marks onto your neck, especially when you feel a slight sting of teeth.
you're shifting against him restlessly, body hardly your own as you fall under his touch. you don't know how long you spend there, in his lap, as he works on your neck, taking breaks to kiss you on the lips, his sighs echoing into the cavern of your mouth as it falls open with need. it's when he sucks lightly on your tongue, almost boyish in the way he backs away with a small smile, when a soft sound escapes your lips.
"yeah?" he murmurs, leaning in again, letting the tip of his tongue brush against yours gently. "you like that?"
you nod.
"you sound so pretty," he breathes, as he slots his lips with yours again, humming against yours as you let out another small whimper.
"haechan-" you mumble, and he draws away, looking at you expectantly. "i think i'm ready."
"really?" his hands on your waist give you a light squeeze. "you want me to take you home now?"
you're still giddy from the heat radiating off his skin, your lips craving his contact again now he's stopped kissing you. you nod, and he smiles, gently guiding you off his lap as he unlocks the door.
he's gentle the whole way down – as he leads you away from the main staircase so you wouldn't be seen, the crowd still distracted by the band. he cradles you carefully against his side all the way out of the back gates and into his car, and when your breath catches as he leans over to buckle your seatbelt for you, he's gentle even as he presses into you for a spur of the moment kiss, tongue licking into your mouth with more fervor.
it's not a song that plays in the car as he drives and you try to remember the way to your apartment, but rather it's a low and sultry beat — bluesy harmonies stretched out over pulses. part of you wonders if he played it on purpose, because imagining his voice set against it already had you melting against the leather seats.
it would all be rather sweet – how gentle he's being, the soft way he smiles at you in the dim lights of your lift lobby, the way he holds your hand and lets you lean against him as you head higher and higher, the space around you feeling like a vacuum of trapped adrenaline and lust.
but there was also no denying the fact that he jolted at the slightest sound, his grip on you tight and slack all at once, the tenderness in his eyes here one second and gone the next. a hurt you could almost taste on your tongue, that you were holding onto something so fragile, and that to him it seemed the worst thing that could happen would be if he were found with you.
—
but all of it changes, when you're alone in your room. the weight of his attention, that you'd felt even as one person amidst a screaming crowd, seems to intensify tenfold as he lets his jacket slide to the floor, eyes on you.
he reads the apprehension in your body, the way you hover near your bed, waiting for him to guide you.
"let me know if it's too much, okay?" he murmurs, as he pulls you in for a hug first, feeling you warm against him as you cling on to his embrace. "you can tell me to stop whenever, and i will." his hands rub circles up your waist, teasing on the silver of skin between your top and your skirt.
you nod, but he shakes his head – a thumb brushing across your cheek.
"use your words," he murmurs. "so i know you mean it."
"okay," you breathe, now guiding him to the bed yourself, curiosity getting the better of you. you had almost forgotten, in the midst of everything, why exactly you went to the party, and the familiar need sparks back to life in you.
haechan sits down against the headboard, pulling you into his lap, the movement feeling even more natural now. he can see that you're nervous and eager at the same time, hands fumbling with the soft material of his shirt, unsure what to do as you shift around on top of him.
"can i kiss you?" in the soft lamp light of the room, the sharp-cut edges of his face seem to blur, large doe-eyes looking up at you kindly. it makes you want to lean in, so you do — slotting your lips with his boldly, kissing him the way you wanted from him. it surprises him, the way you press your lips against him harshly, the gentle graze of your teeth against his plush lip.
he lets out a small laugh, and kisses you back just as fiercely, the atmosphere in the room melting as temperature skyrockets, until it's almost unbearable to be separated from you by layers of fabric.
"may i-" he mumbles, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, and when your voice chokes out an affirmative, he's quick to yank it over his head, movements rough, exposing beautiful skin, his body warm and solid under your palms as you lean into him.
your cheeks warm, and he notices – a small smile on his face as his hands cup your cheeks, and he gives you a sweet kiss, abruptly different from the others. suddenly, it's almost too tender, the way he looks up at you with endearment in his eyes, kissing you chastely, and you sink into it a little guiltily, enjoying the innocence of it.
when you feel your heart reach its boiling point, your own hands go to the hem of your shirt, and you pull it over your head. you don't mean to slow down your movements, not meaning to tease or entice, but the way his eyes darken looking at your body made you wish you did it on purpose.
"pretty," he praises, head dipping to press a kiss between your collarbones. and another one, lower done, almost reaching your cleavage. the bra you had chosen mindlessly that morning was a thin bralette, and it did little to hide how aroused you were, your nipples poking stiff peaks through the fabric.
but still, he doesn't make any move to remove it, peppering kisses on your bare chest, over the slope of your breasts, almost slobbering at your skin, lips dewy and wet. his arms are firm around you, meeting each one of your movements and steadying you, helping you rock your hips into him as desire surges in your body.
"haechan, –" his name had never sounded so breathless falling from your lips.
"yes, baby?"
the term of endearment makes you feel smaller in his lap, the only thing making you feel better was the way he was just as heated as you, his breaths coming hard and fast. he wanted everything to be perfect, he never wanted to rush you into anything you weren't comfortable with, his hands staying firm on your lower back.
you tug at the bralette covering your chest impatiently, the fabric never feeling more uncomfortable on your skin.
"you want me to take it off?" he asks, head nuzzling into your neck as his fingers wander up your back. you feel it loosen around you, his finger expertly fiddling the clasp open, dragging it down and accidentally brushing against your hard nipples, making you hiss.
"i'll make you feel good," he promises, softly, lowering his head, kissing down the slope of your breasts. he makes eye contact with you, searching your eyes for any form of discomfort.
"be gentle," you murmur, nodding for him to continue. "they feel sensitive."
"of course," he mumbles, before starting to lightly kitten-lick at your nipple, the feeling all at once new and arousing, making you pulse against him in his lap. he circles his tongue around your areola, being as gentle as possible, opting not to flick at your nipples but rather suck one into his mouth, heart-shaped full lips sinful against your chest. the heat between your legs is overwhelming, as he switches to your other side, his hand coming up to knead your breast, warm palms moving over skin and making you giddy.
"please," you whimper, as he laps at you. "please, i need you, please –"
"you have me," he murmurs, one of his hands reaching out for yours blindly, scrabbling against the back of your hand from where it's pressed against his chest, flipping it over and interlocking your fingers. "i'll take care of you. lie down for me?"
he moves you off his lap, guiding you onto your back, propping up pillows you can rest against. the familiar feeling of your bed is only faintly there, your senses filled with the sweet heady smell of haechan, from the perfume and lotion clinging onto his skin, as you watch him remove the numerous rings on his fingers, placing them carefully on your bedside table.
haechan kisses his way down your body, suckling on your skin, leaving longer, lingering bruises on your hips, finally reaching your thighs as he lowers himself down. he guides your hips up with a heavy hand, sliding a cushion carefully under as he situates himself between your legs. you're so sensitive, that the feeling of his long hair against your skin has your thighs sliding together, squeezing around his head accidentally.
"you okay?" he murmurs, as he kisses your thighs again, patiently easing your thighs open.
you suddenly feel shy, knowing he was about to see you so intimately. even when you had agreed to let him take care of you, even as you trusted him completely, you had never imagined seeing him in between your spread legs like this, somewhere you hadn't even explored much yourself. would he be disappointed or disgusted? what if he didn't like what he saw or felt?
"baby…." he rubs a hand carefully on your thigh, tips of his fingers slipping just under the hem of your skirt. "is this okay? do you want to stop?"
"i don't want to stop," you admit, and you find that its true.
haechan looks at you, studying your face. after a moment, he crawls back up your body, brushing the hair out of your eyes before he brushes his lips against yours softly, as if asking for permission. you grant it, lips parting as his warm mouth meets yours, a welcome taste in your mouth that's become familiar. you kiss for a while, his hand finding yours in the mess of sheets and intertwining your fingers, until you feel confident enough to slip your other hand to the zipper of your skirt.
you tug it off your legs, haechan breaking away from the kiss to help you, moving down your body.
"i'll take care of you," he whispers, his hand never letting go of yours. "these are so pretty, baby," he whispers, a finger tracing over the lacy pattern on the front of your panties. you've never been more aware of your own arousal seeping out of you, as he places a kiss low on your hip, and then another just on the waistband of your panties, and suddenly, you want nothing more than for them to come off.
your fingers tug at them impatiently, and he takes hold of your hand, kissing your fingertips lightly. "let me," he murmurs, and you hear something low and raw in his voice, something that maybe wasn't there before. sitting up slightly, he pulls your panties down your legs, assuming his position as quickly as he'd left it once the fabric was out of the way, rearranging your legs so they're spread open for him.
the tension in the room fills your lungs up like smoke. you barely mumble his name, beg him to do something, before you feel a soft touch against your clit, making your hips jolt and you let out a sharp exhale.
"let me hear you," he encourages, gently, as he starts to rub circles into your sensitive nub, dipping down to your entrance and spreading your wetness all over your cunt. your hips keep shifting around, so he pulls his arm around to press down into you, keeping you still for him as he slowly pleasures you.
"t-this feels…" you start, lost in your own head. you've touched yourself before, but the sensitivity seemed to be heightened to an exaggerated amount once it was someone else touching you. he looks up at you, face still wickedly beautiful, the gentlest look in his eyes laced with something like desperation.
"can't believe i got so lucky," he murmurs, suckling a kiss close to your heat, high on the soft skin of your thigh. your legs clamp around his head, and it makes him groan, breath heavy against your cunt. "you're pretty everywhere, baby. can't believe i'm the only one."
the words flood your veins with a dark thrill, the idea of being his, of him taking all your firsts. "hypocrite," you mumble, cutting yourself off with a moan as he applies more pressure to your clit.
"maybe a little," he admits, shyly, as he dips his head back down and flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue, his fingers sliding down to your entrance instead.
you cry out at the foreign feeling, the wet muscle of his tongue stroking your clit expertly while his slender finger slips past your entrance. his name, strung along by curses, echoes from your mouth as he teases his finger in and out of your entrance, tongue lying flat and wide as he laps at your clit in a way that made you feel like you were already close.
stiffening his tongue, his flicks your clit with the tip, humming into you just as he curls his finger against your walls in a come-hither motion. he knows when you cum — back arching as you seemed to chase for stimulation above you, your walls sucking tightly around his finger and kneading it eagerly, making him groan as he imagines the feeling of you tight around his cock. he lets you ride out your orgasm on his face, his nose bumping your clit and eliciting another drawn out whimper, tongue teasing your entrance.
when your hands push at his head, he backs away easily, once again making his way up your body to check on you, the warmth of his bare chest against yours making you feel safe.
"good?" he kisses you, tongue moving against yours, inviting you to take a taste. "did you like that, sweetheart?"
you nod, gasping. "haechan…"
"you did perfect for me, baby." his hands run up and down your sides as he kisses down your neck, enjoying the way your body wraps yourself around him, arms pulling his weight down into you.
"i still need you," you murmur. the pleasure from before had only satiated you for a little bit, and the feeling of his hard length poking at your thigh was making your head spin with a whole different level of desire, as you grapple for his belt. "please, i've been good-"
"you're perfect." he comforts you with a kiss.
he guides your hand away from him gently, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants slide onto the bed as you lie back down on your pillows. tugging his underwear down, you swallow as he squeezes his thick length, the pink tip leaking clear liquid. he watches you watch him spread it on his length, pumping himself slowly, drawing out the pleasure as he moans, a sweet tenor sound that rings lewdly in the air. you watch, mesmerized, as he thrusts his hips forward a few times, stroking himself with a slight twist of his wrist before letting go abruptly, letting his cock slap up against his lower stomach.
fishing around in the pocket of his discarded jeans, he takes out a condom wrapper, opening it quickly and rolling it onto his cock. you're sure you're making a mess of the sheets, you can feel your arousal and his saliva on your thighs, can feel another gush of wetness seep out of you as he lowers himself over your body and slides his cock against your folds.
he grinds himself on you, hoping to get you wetter so it may be less painful when he enters you. his fingers find your clit again, this time he rubs it urgently, with just the correct amount of pressure to have you shaking and lifting your hips into him.
"stop me anytime," he reminds you, as he lines himself up to your fluttering entrance. "you have to relax for me, baby." he pitches his voice lower now, and you can't tell if he's comforting you or if he's slowly being pulled under by lust too. he makes soft shushing noises, nipping at your lips with gentle kisses as you whimper, feeling the bulbous tip of his cock slowly stretch you open, his fingers resuming his movements. the head of his cock still feels shallow inside you, when it suddenly brushes against a sensitive spot, and his fingers on your clit glide just right, making you cum, hard. he feels you clamp down tightly around his tip, and he hisses, eyes squeezed shut. his mind wiped clean for just a second as pleasure thrums through his entire body, an aching pain that makes his mouth hang open.
"'m sorry," you whimper, tears prickling to your eyes as you interpret his expression as annoyance. "i'm so sorry, it just felt so good —"
"baby…" he looks at you, his face morphing into panic when he sees the tears in your eyes. "don't apologise, please, you have nothing to be sorry for."
you still look unconvinced, so he reaches for one of your hands, holding it in his and kissing your fingertips. "you are so pretty when you cum," the filthy words sound sacred the way he says them. "and you felt so fucking good around my cock," he murmurs, voice sinking low again.
you begin to relax again, sniffling slightly as you adjust your legs around his waist, feeling him slide a little deeper into you. he coaxes you into taking more of him, kissing you sweetly as he slips in further and further, until finally the both of you are groaning, his body shuddering slightly against yours as he feels your warm gummy walls tight around him.
"so tight," he groans, cursing again under his breath as he circles his hips, drawing a moan from you as your thighs tense. "how are you so tight?," he panted, tone still teasing despite him trying desperately not to buck his hips into you. "has no one ever fucked you before or something?"
you don't have it within you to tease back.
"only you, haechan." the words are reverent, hushed. it strips him of any of his cockiness, his teasing, his boldness — his features softening at the way you look up at him, trying to maintain eye contact even as the ache between your legs drove you insane, not wanting to waste a single moment of this, in case it never happened again.
"haechan…" your nails rake against his back, drawing him out of his daze. "please fuck me."
"fuck," he breathes, as he slowly starts to move in you, obsessed with the way the words sound in your voice. his thick length drags against your walls, heavy inside you, the wet sounds of your arousal seeping into the room. you feel full and stretched out, sated by having him so close to you, it feels like you can feel him deep in your gut the way he's thrusting into you, especially when he hikes your legs higher on his waist, drawing a long moan from you as he manages to stimulate a spot inside you that has you seeing stars.
he changes his pace, now barely pulling himself out of you as he nudges the head of his cock against your sweet spot. licking a long stripe from your neck up to your ear, one hand tangles itself with yours, while the other ghosts over your sensitive nipples.
"i'm cumming," the words come out rushed as you barely hold onto your senses, cumming harshly for the third time, your body thrown into pleasure as your muscles tense. he succumbs to the feeling of your walls kneading his length and squeezing tight around him, eyes going unfocused and hazy as his lips part, a moan drawn out from his lungs without conscious thought. he's aware of the way your muscles tense as he fucks both of you through your highs, relishing in the sting of your fingernails on his back as he slows down his movements. he draws out both your highs by leaning in and sucking on the mark he'd left behind earlier that evening, letting his moan buzz and fizzle on your skin.
you feel dazed and tired, arms never letting go of him, legs unwilling to unwrap from his waist as you cling to him. he rolls you both onto your sides, caressing your body sweetly and stroking your hair, mumbling questions and concerns that you can't register, nodding to everything in a blur. the weight of him feels good, his body warm and solid against your back, and once again that feeling of safety, that feeling of complete trust, washes over you. it makes you feel whole even as he pulls out of you with a wince, discarding the condom in the trash by your bedside.
you cling to him, and he knows you need it — so he doesn't let you go, heavy hands patting your back clumsily, slightly rough and out of rhythm, just like the way your heart beats against your ribcage.
when he feels your arms loosen, relaxing finally after the high of hormones and adrenaline, he slips away quickly to the bathroom, putting on his underwear as he goes. he grabs a towel, turning your tap on to warm water and checking the temperature with his wrist as he washes his hands, his face, cleaning himself up. running the towel under the water and squeezing it dry in the sink. his movements methodical, as he slips out of your room and into the kitchen, looking around for a glass of water.
he immediately races back the moment he hears a sound from your bedroom, shutting the door behind him just as you sit up, your expression clearing once you see him again. pulling his shirt from where it's discarded on the floor, he slides into bed, kissing you on the cheek.
he cleans you up with soft strokes, the warm towel soothing on your skin even though he hadn't really been rough. he makes you drink from the glass of water, watching you drain it carefully. finally, slipping his large shirt over your frame, swallowing at the way it envelopes your body, a feeling stirring in his gut that he ignores.
"y/n? are you with me?" when you don't respond, wide eyes looking up at him, he touches his fingers to your cheek. "baby?"
each brush of his skin against yours felt like trails of fire, lingering warmth even after he pulls away. every look he gave you through his lashes, the slight pout to his lips when he broke away from a kiss, made you feel like you were caught in a riptide, your pulse out of your control. you wanted to crawl into him and make a home in his chest. you never wanted him to look at you again with his shuttered eyes, to have to dream yourself into the skin of someone else as he touched them.
you had to tell him. "haechan…haechan i…" you reach for him, and he pulls you into his embrace, shushing you softly. you try to speak again, lips parting, but he envelopes your lips in a gentle kiss, nipping at your mouth each time you part, swallowing all your sounds with the sweep of his tongue.
"princess…" his voice sounds raw, and coarse. "don't say anything you don't mean."
"but-"
"you don't know me." was it regret in his voice, or your wishful thinking? "you don't know me at all. what you're feeling right now…" he touches a hand to your chest, brushing a kiss on your cheek. "it's because of the sex, alright?"
you shake your head.
your next words come out slurred, your eyelids starting to droop as sleep begins to tug at your mind, threatening to pull you under. "but…why can't i know you?"
he takes a deep breath. "i don't want you to."
"but i don't want this to end."
he holds you tighter against his chest at your words.
"this?" he questions, quietly. he keeps his voice light, but it still pierces your heart like a shard of glass. "there isn't a 'this' princess. this isn't happening again."
"why?"
"i don't want you to get attached." he cradles you even more carefully against him, freckling mellow kisses onto your forehead, the contrast between his words and his actions ringing dissonant in your ears. "besides… why would i spend the night with the same girl twice, hm?"
sleep softens the hurt from the words he's saying. his voice fades slightly, his touch against your skin roaring ever louder in your ears. "you know i won't be here when you wake up, right?" his fingers brush against your forehead lightly, pushing hair away from your eyes.
you knew.
but you still cried in the morning all the same — the golden-orange sunrise beautiful and terribly cruel, just like the boy you were perhaps falling in love with.
—
you spend the weekend alone.
you spend the weekend wondering if haechan thought of you at all, after he left. thinking if what he said was real, and it was just adrenaline and lust, then why did your heart ache at the thought of him? at his face on posters outside the small concert venue, inviting you to a show next week? why did you always turn at the slightest hint of his voice?
you try to forget him. you try to tell yourself he wasn't worth it. but deep down all of it, a part of you still hopes, which is perhaps why you were letting jaemin drag you past the poster of haechan, into the alleyway that led backstage.
"are you sure you need me there?" you pull at jaemin's sleeve, your other hand holding onto his spare camera carefully as he guides you into the venue.
"i do," he insists, pushing through a set of doors leading to the stage. "mark wants extra photos for their social media page and i can't be doing all of that at once."
you can hear the boys talking just around one of the curtains, sprawled out onstage, a cacophany of sounds as they absentmindedly plucked at their instruments. you were going to see haechan again. you can't tell if it makes you want to run towards them, or go back home. that familiar sense of hope, the kind you experienced in the crowd that first night, on the balcony, in the bedroom and in the moonlight, fills you up slowly, sweet and light. maybe, if he just saw you again…
"y/n-" jaemin puts a hand on your arm, stopping you gently before you could rush onto stage.
"yes?" you prompt.
"i know i dragged you here, but if you're feeling uncomfortable," he starts, and you start to slip away, but he only tightens his grip. "let me finish — if you're feeling uncomfortable, or if any of them are hurting you, let me know okay?"
you hadn't told him about haechan, something close to shame seeming to rise up and choke you whenever you tried to bring it up. all jaemin knew was that the last two times you had come into contact with the band it had upset you badly, and as your best friend and roommate he never wanted to see you crying on the balcony again.
"what would you do? beat them up?"
"i would leave." his serious tone doesn't change, unaffected by your attempt to lighten the mood.
"but the money –"
"no job is more important than you being okay," he insists. "i don't want to work for them if they hurt you. okay?"
"okay."
even though he looks unconvinced, his grip on your arm loosens and he takes your hand instead, pulling back the curtain with his other.
you can hear him say something to mark about today's shoot, hear him greet the rest of the members. you guess that mark is rising to greet him, hear something like jisung and jeno standing too, but everything fades to white noise when the sight you're looking at clicks in your mind, the one member of the band who's voice you hadn't heard, who hadn't bothered to turn around at jaemin's arrival.
or rather, the one boy who was too pre-occupied to — considering he had his tongue in a pretty girl's mouth.
haechan was facing away from you, away from the rest of his bandmates, you could really only see his broad back under his denim jacket, but the careful tilt of his head as he kissed her was all too familiar, as was the movement of his arms around her waist. and when she shifted in his lap, his hands pulling her hips down unto his, you can feel your heartbeat in your ears, a sharp pain searing at your chest in emotions you couldn't pinpoint.
"fuck, sorry about that –" mark's voice is flustered, and now a tall boy, the bassist, jisung, is stepping in front of you, blocking your view of him.
"sorry," he echoes, and you're momentarily caught off guard by how deep his voice is - husky and quiet. you blink up at him, fog slowly clearing in your mind, and he smiles shyly. "he doesn't usually do that."
"who?"
"um, haechan…" he looks back briefly, and you see haechan helping the girl to her feet, her body crumpled into his like she couldn't bear to be separated from his touch. you feel a wave of second-hand shame again – was that what you had looked like?
and then jisung turns back to you, towering over you again and blocking everything from view. "he usually only does this after the show, but today…"
"it's fine," you say, faintly.
jisung looks at you, carefully. "you're jaemin's friend y/n, right?"
you nod, half your mind still on what could be going on right now. behind jisung, you see mark pull haechan, now alone, towards a corner of the stage, whispering angrily at him. haechan is slouched lazily, picking at his nails with all the look of someone who couldn't care less about what was going on.
"i saw you at our last show," jisung continues. "i was going to…i was going…" he breaks off, a little embarrassed, fumbling with his words. "are you sure you're okay?"
"i'm fine, jisung." you repeat, your voice a little more firm, as you finally look back at him.
he blinks. "you know me?"
jisung still looked worried, but there was something sweet about the way he shrunk a little under your attention, eyes darting all over your face and around his surroundings, blush tinging his cheeks.
this you were comfortable with – something completely different from the way haechan's eyes always tried to drink you in, or the way your vision would go blurry at the edges when he would stand in front of you. talking with jisung was easy, the confidence that haechan drained from you seeping back and settling in.
he had meant it, when he said you shouldn't get attached. you just had to learn it before it brought you more hurt you couldn't justify.
"jisung," you emphasise. "of course i know you. you play bass, right?"
"y-yeah," he stammers, pointing unecessarily at his dark blue bass guitar on its stand. "i don't know, i guess i always thought people didn't really know me even if they knew the band." he fiddles with the hem of his shirt, black hair falling over his eyes. "people usually choose to stand where haechan or mark are."
"you usually stand on the left?"
he nods, bashfully, and a smile tugs at your lips.
"i'll make sure to stand there, later during the show."
"wow, okay." he pauses for a moment, steeling himself. "how about after?"
"what do you mean?"
"would you want to meet…after the show?" he hesitates, voice soft.
your brow furrows slightly. "do you mean the party?"
"we don't have to go," he blurts out. "i don't mean…i don't mean like what haechan usually does after the show."
his name is an unwelcome sting, but the way jisung sneaks glances up at you from where he looks down at his feet makes it a little easier to forget. "then what do you want to do?"
"w-we can get something to eat." he says it like he just suggested robbing a bank.
oh. "like a date?"
mortified, his lips part, and you can tell that he's frantically trying to read your tone, trying to figure out if the idea of it made you uncomfortable, whether you were suggesting because you wanted it. it's so endearing, watching him start his sentences and stop them, the hem of his shirt crumpled and worn out by his nervous fingers.
eventually, he takes a deep breath, and settles for a question. "d-do you mind if it's a date?"
did you?
was there any hope in waiting for haechan, when he had made it so clear that you would never have him again?
jisung is still looking at you like you have all the power in the world to hurt him.
"i don't mind," you say, softly, feeling a hum of satisfaction in your chest at the way it makes his lips part in blissful surprise. a beat. "do you want it to be…?"
"yes," he blurts out. "please," he adds, shyly.
the awkward silence between the two of you feels good, the lightness of it familiar and giddy, like a schoolgirl crush. jisung can't stop smiling, biting his lips slightly as he turns to face mark, who's crossed to the front of the stage to speak to them.
" — jisung, jaemin will start with your photos first. we'll just be shooting the rehearsal process today, so there's no need to-" he breaks off, brow furrowing. "jisung why are you so red?"
"i-it's w-warm in here."
"well you should cool off before jaemin takes your photos." jisung nods, flustered, and he walks offstage with jaemin to prepare. jeno too, strolls away with a wave to mark, leaving him alone at the front of the stage.
with you.
mark glances over at you, his eyes darting over your face, trying to read your expression. you can almost hear haechan's voice from that night, the ghost of the hurt still palpable in your bones. but the moment you take a step back, thinking that you should find jaemin and jisung, mark seems to have made up his mind — his face set, he starts to walk over to you, and you find your own footsteps falter.
"um, y/n, can i speak to you for a second?"
you take a deep breath. "is this about the photos for later?"
"no…not exactly." he clears his throat. there's a pause, as he seems to pick his words. "y/n, did i do something wrong?"
you blink at him. "what do you mean?"
"i mean, i know it was a while ago, but i thought we were getting along fine at the party," it feels like he's rehearsed this to some capacity, or perhaps it was just the confidence of being a lead singer. "but then since then every time i saw you…i feel like you've been avoiding me."
"i haven't been avoiding you." you take a deep breath. "mark, do you have a girlfriend?"
his eyes widen. "are you…are you asking me out?"
"what?" you balk. "no!"
"oh." his face falls. "i mean…i just thought…"
"that's just too bad, markie."
it’s practically deja vu.
haechan stands behind you, his body radiating warmth, and you inhale sharply. surprisingly, he doesn't smell saccharine, the way he always does with the girls he chooses — his skin smells like baby powder and fresh linen. your body is doing that thing again – where you hone in on his presence and the whole world dissolves, and you're hyper attuned to the way his arm hovers near yours, his breath on the back of your neck. anything you were about to say to mark completely lost in your brain.
exasperated, mark runs his hand through his hair. "haechan…don't be difficult."
"i'm not." you feel almost numb when his hand touches your elbow, sliding down to hold your hand tight in his grip. "y/n and i have to talk about something."
"can't it wait?"
"it's urgent," haechan says, sarcastically, giving you a sharp tug towards him. your feet stumble as haechan starts to walk off, and you turn one last time to see mark standing there, looking a little forlorn, suddenly small under the bright lights of the stage.
"sorry, –" you mumble out. mark frowns, starting towards you.
but now haechan really pulls you along, yanking curtains aside and accessing a short flight of stairs. you can feel the intensity of his emotions radiating off him in waves, making it a little hard to breathe as you try to keep up, afraid of what he'll say if your hand slips from his grasp.
he guides you along a corridor and through a doorway, stepping into the warm light of a dressing room, the door slamming shut behind you as haechan pulls you in.
you're almost afraid to look at him, but you do anyway.
he's slightly breathless from the walk down, stooping slightly to lock the door with careful hands. when he straightens and steps towards you, the lights hitting his features, you can see that he's covered up the hickeys on his neck with makeup. something mark made him do, no doubt.
"haechan -"
"park jisung? really?" he sneers, backing you into the dressing table.
"what?"
"don't lie to me," he demands. "i saw you."
"really?" you fold your arms across your chest as he moves in closer, planting both hands on the table on either side of your hips, caging you in. "you looked busy. where did she go, hm? did mark send her away, or did you?"
haechan rolls his eyes. "that's none of your business."
"jisung said you don't usually bring girls to the rehearsal," you continue, watching the way his tongue pokes into his cheek in annoyance. "what happened?"
"you two talked about me?" he demands. "what else did you do? make plans to fuck after the show?"
"i'm not a virgin anymore," you remind him, your voice laced with a warning. "i thought you only cared about my first time."
haechan groans. seeing you talk to jisung out of the corner of his eye, seeing your hands brush and his friend's head duck shyly to the side, gave him a weight on his chest which grew heavier each time he took a breath, each time he had to hear one of jisung's small laughs.
"if you want to have mediocre sex then i couldn't care less," he snaps. "just know that you're going to have to fuck a lot of people before you forget me."
you can see that you're losing him, the familiar closed-off look coming back to his face, anger dissapating into indifference.
"what is there to forget?" you ask, hurt and anger making your voice shake.
haechan is staring at you, his face now so close to yours if you leaned in just slightly your lips would brush.
"you don't mean that," he says, quietly.
and just like that, all the fight drains out of you.
"haechan, jisung just wants to take me out on a date." his features tense, and he bites his lower lip harshly. "would you ever ask me out on a date, haechan?"
he doesn't respond.
"would you?"
"i told you," he breathes. "i don't do that."
"you told me you didn't want to be my first time, and you took it back," you remind him, quietly.
"that's different." you can't help the disappointment that wells up inside you, and you know he can see it from the way his face falls too.
"don't look at me like that, princess." he sinks into your touch easily, warmth once again circling your body.
you don't know if you wished haechan was a liar, or if you wished he wasn't. if he was telling the truth about everything, it would be easier to let go of him, to walk away from someone who could only cause you pain, from someone who played with you over and over again.
but maybe if he was lying it would all make sense – the way he said he didn't want you and yet kept showing up, the jealousy and the conflict in his voice, all of it would have some sort of plausible reason, one that would mean that maybe he cared for you.
"i don't want to do this anymore," you mumble, hands placed on his chest. you only push at him lightly, but he backs off all the way to the opposite wall, your words feeling like salt in his wounds. "i can't do this with you, haechan."
"y/n-"
"you have a show soon," you mumble, turning around to look in the mirror. you comb your hair with your fingers, trying to calm yourself down. behind you, haechan's eyes flash with frustration, his jaw clenched and his eyebrows drawn together as he looks up at your reflection.
"i'm trying to talk to you."
"are you?" it's a genuine question, and it makes him falter, a response half-formed on his lips. when it's clear he won't finish his thought, you close your eyes.
"you need to go," you say again, quietly.
"will you be there?"
you don’t respond, and he repeats himself, urgently.
"will you be there? at the show?"
"i will," you say, hesitantly.
"i'll see you then." his voice is controlled, and steady. somehow it feels like the calm before the storm.
but before you can turn around to try to talk to him, persuade him to calm down, ask him what's wrong, he's already left the room, the sound of his heeled boots echoing down the hall.
—
"is everything okay?"
"why are they taking so long?"
"are they late?"
unease settles in the pit of your stomach as you stand in the crowd, the voices all around you whispering anxiously. it had been 15 minutes since the show was scheduled to start — but the lights on the stage were dim, and the pre-show playlist had just restarted for the second time. you had situated yourself on the left side of the stage, where jisung usually stood, and you bounced on your toes, hoping that everything was alright backstage so jisung could come out and see that you had kept your promise.
and then there's a low rumble, as lights finally flood the venue, the crowd sighing with relief as jeno and mark appear – jeno waving at the crowd, his drumsticks in one hand, while mark smiles reassuringly, walking over to the mic and checking that it's at the correct height. he apologizes lightly for the delay, looking to the side of the stage nervously as he murmurs a quick introduction of the band into the mic.
haechan strides onto stage, electric guitar slung around his neck, as the crowd's screams reach an all-time high. he stops abruptly at the left side of the stage, right in front of where you stood, nodding at the crowd and cocking his head from side to side, as if preparing for a fight. he keeps his face level as his eyes find yours, that same burning intensity you felt in the dressing room unwavering as he held your gaze.
and then jisung appears, footsteps faltering where haechan stood, the grip on his bass going slack.
"haechan." jisung's voice is soft, you can barely hear it from where you stand so close to the stage. you can tell that the crowd behind has no clue what's going on, but some fans are looking at each other confusedly, pointing at the two boys, and the position on mark's left where haechan usually stood, now empty.
"yes?" haechan's not looking at jisung, fingers running phantom chords up and down the fret board.
"w-why are you standing here?" jisung whispered, embarrassment evident in his tone. "aren't you supposed to be on mark's left?"
haechan's eyes briefly flick up to yours. "not today."
distressed, jisung makes a sound. "haechan." guilt fills up your lungs like smoke, making it difficult to breathe, a twist in your chest as jisung looks over at you, lost.
"run along, jisung," haechan murmurs, softly. "don't want to keep the fans waiting."
mark, not wanting to draw attention to them, keeps smiling at the crowd, starting to ask them a few questions. jisung only tries a few more times, haechan resolutely ignoring him, before finally accepting defeat, casting his eyes over to you — his gaze wounded and confused, as he walks off with his bass. he assumes haechan's position, and the crowd cheers encouragingly. the boy manages a smile.
when mark starts to introduce the first song, haechan finally looks up, a faint smile playing on his lips as his eyes lock with yours again. just like the day you met.
and just like the day you met, you felt yourself fall under his spell, yet again.
—
"haechan, i think we —" you gasp out, in between the kisses that haechan is pressing to your lips.
he gives a non-committal hum, his legs framing your body as he holds you close to his chest. his lips are warm and soft, tasting slightly of cherries, as he opens you up little by little, chaste kisses turning into open-mouthed ones, his tongue darting out and gently licking into your mouth in a way that was intoxicating.
you grip onto his arm harshly, trying to ground yourself, and he inhales sharply, breaking away.
"haechan –" you pant. "we should-"
but then he's kissing you again, smothering your words with his lips and his tongue. his hands rub at your lower back, guiding your movements as you shift against him, his hips grinding upwards almost lazily.
"jisung, –" you start, but now he gives a groan, rumbling through his chest almost like a roar. slumped back against the car door, he glares at you, touching the corner of his wet mouth with his thumb.
"you did not just fucking say my bandmates name while you're on me."
"we should apologize to jisung," your words come out in a rush.
"for?" he catches the look on your face, and rolls his eyes. "fine," he mumbles. "i'll talk to him." leaning up towards you, he starts to pepper kisses down your jaw, sucking a little harder on the mark he had left before. "kiss me?" he mumbles, and you have to stop yourself from caving in.
"haechan," you press on, as haechan licks boldly at your collarbone. "haechan –"
"keep saying my name," he murmurs, hands roaming up your shirt, teasing over the clasp of your bra.
"mark, —"
"fuck." breaking away agian, haechan tips his head back, lips stretched out and puffy as he tongued his cheek. "you want me jealous princess? is that it? because it's fucking working –"
"haechan, we keep hurting people." you place both hands on his chest, trying to calm him down.
"what?"
"today we hurt mark too. although, i don't really know why–" you break off, thinking about how he looked as he tried to follow after you and haechan. how jisung's cheeks burned red as he walked across the stage. "haechan, they're your friends."
"you wanna hurt jeno too?" he raises his eyebrows, his own hands now mindlessly scraping against yours. "you can lead him on, and then we can fuck while he watches. although he'll probably like that –"
again, he takes in the way you frown. "fine. sorry. jeez."
"i don't want to hurt people because of us," you say, softly.
"well," he exhales. "they're only hurt because they can't have you, princess." he tucks your hair behind your ear from where its come loose. "there's nothing we can do, hm?"
you shake your head. "you're not being fair," you whisper.
"how so?" his hands slide down. there's something possessive in the drag of his palms, the way he squeezes your waist.
"you don't call me yours…but you also don't let them near me." your voice is small, but it rings loud in the silence of the car all the same. the streets outside were empty and deserted, and you think you can hear your heart beating in the still air as your palms stay pressed on his firm chest. "haechan…i need you to choose."
it's a long time before haechan responds. he's tired from the show and all the adrenaline, you can feel it in his slow breathing, in the way his eyes blink slowly up at you like an afterthought. but his eyes are what give it away – his gaze is sharp and calculative as his eyes roam your body, his touches not quite as drowsy as he appears, fingers tingling against skin.
you wait, your heart in your throat. you wait and you hope.
his full lips part, his eyes meeting yours.
"so…this is our last time together?"
of course that's his choice. the disappointment spreads like cold, an ache deep in your bones. "if that's what you choose." your voice is flimsy. "haechan, —" but nothing leaves your mouth, just a wounded sound. everything rushing up inside you like a waves breaking over the shore, memories flooding your senses.
the hurt on mark's face. haechan's hands on your skin. the blush that burned at jisung's skin as he watched haechan pull you to his car, his figure growing smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. haechan's lips against your ear as he held you.
"shhh," his arms hold you against his chest, smoothing down your spine as he comforts you as if you were a baby, you clinging on tight to him as if he were going to disappear. "it's okay," he murmurs. "we'll just have to make it count, hm?" gently, he guides your face out of his chest, relieved when he realizes that you're not crying yet, at least. kissing your cheek gently, he brushes his thumb against the apples of your cheeks. "are you alright? do you want me to take you home?"
"s-stop it." you manage to steady your breathing enough to repeat yourself. "stop being gentle with me, haechan. stop leading me on."
"stop getting hurt," he replies, a little teasing, but his tone aches.
"kiss me?"
this time you do, letting him guide your movements, as he pulls you down into his body as if he were trying to pull you all the way through him.
his kisses are slow and sweet, tilting his head almost shyly, the tip of his nose bumping against yours as he leans up into you. his tongue carefully slides over your bottom lip, before he's nudging your lips apart with his own again, tongue gently moving over yours, pulling away with a small smile when you chase after him, tongue stuck out slightly, chasing the warmth of his mouth.
"cute," he mumbles, and you pull your shirt up over your head just so he won't see the way your cheeks burn in the dark.
his movements become a little more urgent as he unclasps your bra, letting it slide to the floor of his car as he surges towards you. his lips begin to suck marks onto your chest, hands now squeezing your soft breasts, mapping your body indulgently. his tongue licks slowly around your right nipple, before giving it a gentle flick with his tongue, your body shifting restlessly against him as it sends a wave of arousal down to your core. he hugs you against him to steady your movements, lapping at your nipples and guiding each roll of your hips down into his.
your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him away from you. before you can tell him to stop teasing, he's kissed you again — placating. sweet like he knew everything you were about to say, before you even said it.
you raise your hips as his hands smooth over the pleats of your skirt, before flipping the soft material upwards. you hadn't worn anything special, not having the courage to, but the way he looked at your simple white panties, thumb running carefully over the pink bow in the middle of the waistband, made you feel warm all over. you hurry to pull them off, just to break the moment, but he catches them right before you tug them off your ankle.
"can i keep these?" his doe-eyes blink up at you. you can see the brown in his irises, almost gold in the light. you nod, and he lets out a laugh, kissing you through his smile as his fingers wander up your thighs.
he starts with slow circles on your clit, stroking the nub gently, feeling the way your hips shift at the feeling. when he speeds up his motions, fingers teasing along your slit and catching at your entrance a few times, your hips begin to pick up a steady rhythm, rocking into his hand.
"do you just want to cum like this?" he asks kindly, placing a bit more pressure on the tips of his fingers. he wants to be inside you badly, his erection almost painful from the lack of contact, but he knew that it might do more for him than it did for you.
this was how he wanted you to be taken care of for your first time, for your second time — this is why he didn't want you to slip away from him into rooms with men who wouldn't know what you needed, wouldn't care what you wanted.
or at least — it's what he tells himself to keep him sane.
"'m close," you mumble, your movements uncoordinated, neediness driving your hips into his hand, pleasure that you didn't quite know how to handle. "feels so empty, haechan, please –"
he slows down his movements, a hand sliding over your waist to rub at your lower back, eliciting a warm sound from you that radiates into his chest. he slides a finger into your tight entrance, feeling the way you tense around him, slowly slipping the finger in and out, curling against your walls carefully. his thumb comes up to press your clit, and you inhale sharply as the pressure in your abdomen builds.
"more…"
"baby, you're doing so well," he praises. freckling careful kisses on your neck to distract you, you feel another finger catch against your entrance, his hand breaking its rhythm to carefully slide in, stretching your hole out even more. with a lewd suck on the base of your neck, he curls both fingers against your walls, a slick finger slipping on your clit, and you feel yourself crash headfirst into your high, thighs clamping around his hand in sensitivity as you moan. he murmurs praises against your ear, kissing your jaw sweetly between each one.
he removes his hand from your core with a wet sound, and you drop down into his lap, feeling weak at the knees even though you weren't standing. he lets out a groan, feeling your wetness and warmth through his jeans, and he can feel his cock twitch under the fabric. but still, he waits until your breathing evens out, using his cleaner hand to stroke at your sides, humming lightly under his breath, the reassuring sound filling the car. his breaths sync with yours as you come down from your high, and together you let out a shaky exhale.
"do you mind?" he asks, quietly, hands going to his belt slowly, trying not to startle you. "we don't have to have sex. i just really need to take care of this now…" you nod, flustered, crawling backwards down his legs, and he leans forward to kiss the crown of your hair. against the soft sounds of your breathing, the sound of him unbuckling his belt, letting it drop into the shadows, and the rustle of fabric as he tugged his jeans and underwear down as much as he could, were endlessly arousing. you felt yourself begin to pulse with need again, your thighs squeezing together when he pulls out his cock, thick and heavy against his palm, the tip blushy and leaking.
he gives himself a tentative stroke, spreading pre-cum over his length before squeezing the base and hissing at the feeling as he tries to stop from cumming too soon. as if in a trance, you reach out towards him, your hand curiously wrapping around his shaft. he groans, low, as you give him a tentative stroke, although the sound is cut off by a high whimper when your fingers rub the head of his cock, silky under your fingertips.
"baby, you don't have to –" he's cut off by another moan as you squeeze his length, applying more pressure as you stroke. "fuck, jus' like that," he mumbles, weakly, as you twist your wrist a little on a downstroke, palm slippery with pre-cum. after a few more strokes, watching haechan's head loll this way and that, twisting with pleasure, you pay more attention to his tip, thumbing just under it, fingers rubbing his slit. haechan's hips are restless, thrusting into your hand, his body shaking and the muscles on his abdomen clenched tight. you give him a few more strokes, and his whines fill up the car, raspy and sinful in a way that made you crave him even more.
mimicking his movements, you slide your hand back down to his base and squeeze. he blinks hazily up at you, lips still parted, panting breathlessly.
"baby…"
"i need you," your voice feels broken, desire pulsing through each syllable. "please haechan," you add, as he swallows harshly, his cock twitching slightly against the warmth of your hand.
pulling you towards him, he kisses you again, fingers wandering down to your heat and stroking your folds. "so wet from touching me, baby?" he teases, smiling against your lips as he slips a finger in, and then another, your walls sucking him in easily. he finds your soft spot immediately, your thighs shaking around his hand as you whine. it's a sound embarrassing to your own ears, but it's like music to haechan's ears, as he lets out a low groan.
"it's too bad it's your last time with me," he murmurs, lightly, as he takes a condom out from the glove compartment, his hands moving swiftly as he tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. "i would love to record your pretty sounds…" your voice lets out another small whimper, as if proving him right, as he adjusts you on his lap so the head of his cock lines up with your entrance. slowly, you sink down on him, clutching onto his body for support as you feel him fill you up tightly.
"breathe," he coaxes, letting his own head sink back against the seats, the hazy feeling of you wet and warm around him intensifying as you take all of him inside you. he continues on, trying to distract you by peppering gentle kisses all over your cheeks. "would you like to hear your voice in a song, sweetheart? all the girls in the crowd wondering who's pretty voice is on the track, wondering who's making her feel this good…" he hisses, when he feels you pulse around him. "you want that?"
your lips part, stuttering out jumbles of half-sentences, yes-es and nos. "'m just teasing, baby," he coos, as he thrusts his hips upwards experimentally, bouncing you on his lap. you lean into his body, feeling muscle firm under your palms as you raise your hips and grind against him, sensitivity making your thighs shake as the movement stimulates your clit.
responding to your need, his arm loops around your waist while his fingers wander towards your clit, stroking and rubbing it expertly as he continues to thrust up into you, the car jolting with his movements. his strong thighs tense as he moves, barely pulling out before stuffing himself into you again, your walls kneading his length in a way that makes his body feel hot with need, chasing his climax. your soft sounds each time his tip grazes your soft spot are an aphrodisiac, and he feels himself growing impossibly harder inside you, so aroused it almost hurts.
"haechan, i'm cumming," you moan, and his fingers put more pressure on your clit, as you bounce on him, eager for release.
"keep saying my name," he breathes, pulling you close, your bodies moving frantic and unsteady against each other, as you cum, mouthing his name against his skin. he empties himself into the condom soon after, hips still jolting as he helps you ride out the aftershocks of your climax, your breaths echoing loud in the car.
you almost wanted to ask for round 2 — and you were sure he would give it to you, if you had asked. instead you stay silent, feeling emptier than ever as he pulls out, your body draining of his warmth as he cleans you with wipes from his glove compartment, kissing you sweetly whenever your eyes met. the water bottle he procured from the passenger seat of the car making you wonder if this was his plan all along, as you sipped quietly, as he put your address in his phone to take you home.
—
you can feel him slip away from you on the drive back.
a sea of red and green lights move across the planes of his face as you watch him drive, one hand on the wheel and the other touching your hand softly on the centre console. you give his fingers a faint squeeze and he smiles, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a light kiss to your fingertips.
when you reach the next intersection, he pulls his hand from yours and puts it back on the steering wheel.
when he makes his next turn, his shoulders start to tense and the easy, relaxed expression on his face morphs into a stony one.
and when he finally pulls up in front of your apartment building, turning to face you, the glowing streetlights illuminating the outlines of his face do nothing to soften the blow of seeing him like this again — looking at you with half-lidded eyes, almost lazy in his power.
"are you coming to the next show?"
"i want to," you respond, your voice small. "...should i?"
"it doesn't really matter to me." his fingers tap against the wheel, restlessly. "i just hope you know you shouldn't wait around afterwards."
you bite your lip. "i know."
he nods. "so you know this is over?"
"i know."
"good girl." it feels like a punch to the stomach, and you inhale, sharply, hands gripping the handle of the car door. waiting for him to dismiss you, as he always did.
but then he's speaking again, breaking the silence. his voice is softer, a little more hesitant – "do you need me to walk you up?" he's not looking at you, eyes trained on his dashboard. "will you be okay?"
it's cruel, the way your heart stutters in your chest. you take one last look at him, trying to memorize everything — the sharp line of his jaw, his collarbones, the joints of his fingers, the way his pinky finger crooks slightly to the right. the faint smell of vanilla and something darker, mixed with his warmth. you try to memorize it because you're sure this is the last time you'll be so close to him again, both in proximity, and in the way his voice aches with something close to tenderness. in that moment, you know if you told him you needed him, he would turn off the engine and open your car door, holding you safe against his chest and walking you up to your apartment. but what for? for him to shut off on the way up the elevator, and turn into a stranger at your door?
"it's fine," you murmur, and you don't wait for a response before stepping out into the warm night.
—
your ribs press against the barrier, and you wince slightly. the crowd screams loud in your ear, as the boy in front of you looks up from his guitar at the crowd in front of him, dark gaze sliding over faces, tongue poking at his cheek and puffy lips stretched.
his eyes briefly meet yours, and your heart skips a beat.
and then he's looking back down at his guitar again, lips pursed in concentration.
the next time he glances up, the familiar glint is back, eyebrows drawn together. there was something strange about the way he was looking at you, not exactly meeting your eyes. was he looking at your clothes? your hair? or…
"oh my god!"
you shoot a brief glance back, at the girl who's just let out a squeal. she claps her hands over her mouth, eyes shining as she stares adoringly at haechan, unblinking. you don't have to check to know he's staring right back — you know the look on her face a little too well.
the disappointment and jealousy weighing on your chest is entirely unjustified, but you feel it heavy in your bones, anyway.
he had meant every word: it was truly over.
–
"did anyone see you?"
"no," you whimper, as he mouths over the seat of your panties, tongue lapping at your folds through the fabric.
"good girl," he pants, letting out a satisfied groan when he tugs them down your legs, burying his face in between your legs with a lewd moan.
but if it was truly over, why did he find you after the show last week, – slipping by you to tell you to meet him in the upstairs master bedroom, where he fingered you open in front of the mirror?
if it was truly over, why did a stagehand stop you from leaving after the next show you went to, passing you a note that told you to wait at the back entrance of the venue?
"fuck fuck fuck-"
and if it was truly over, why was he currently in between your spread legs, his mouth and chin covered with your juices as you lay on his bed?
"need you now, princess." his fingers brush your clit, and your thighs shake with overstimulation. "are you okay? i can wait-"
"don't wait," you plead, pulling him towards you. he follows, propping himself up on his arms as his face reaches yours, his lips gently nudging your own apart, letting you taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you. his sticky hands stroke your sides, leaving trails on your skin. "haechan –"
he interrupts you with another kiss. freckling more kisses down your neck, he smiles against the mark he left days ago, fading slightly now. "i missed this," he murmurs, and your heart stings, a collection of memories surfacing in your mind – of his eyes avoiding yours at shows. of him waiting onstage for someone else. of him smiling at you cordially, face blank as if he were greeting you for the first time when he talked to you in front of other fans.
"did you really?"
he doesn't respond, latching his lips to your skin with a hum, hands cupping your breasts in one swift motion, fingers teasing over your nipples and making your body arch into his touch.
"haechan…"
"what do you want, princess?" he wanders lower, licking at your cleavage. your mind threatens to blank when he circles a fingertip around your areola, puffy wet lips closing around a nipple and sucking wetly. "hm?"
"want you to fuck me…" your voice is shaky, but you press on. "like how you were gonna fuck that girl."
his hands still for just a brief second. you can see your words hit him, understanding and lust flickering in his responding laugh. he focuses his eyes back on your face, hands now coming up to brush your lips, caressing your cheek, smoothing over your skin almost lovingly.
this is how he was going to fuck her?
"open up," he murmurs, fingers pressed to your bottom lip. as if stuck in a trance, your lips part.
a wet mess of saliva, still mixed with traces of your arousal, drips down from his tongue into your mouth, connecting your lips with his in a glossy sheen. his lips tug into a smile as he sees your blown-out pupils, arousal completely overriding his every thought.
his fingers trace your jaw. "swallow," he commands, sweetly, and as always you do exactly as he says.
you feel something shift against your upper thigh, your hips rising on instinct to buck against his hard length, still trapped behind his ripped jeans.
his low groan is interrupted by a sharp rattling of the doorknob, followed by a thud against the door. both of you still, eyes focused on the locked door, straining your ears to hear the voices outside.
"are you sure no one saw you?" haechan asks, quietly. "did jisung see you? mark? jeno?"
"i don't think so," you mumble.
that was the arrangement you had come up with a little over a week ago, discussed in heated kisses and bliss-induced haze. you could keep seeing haechan, as long as you never saw the rest of the band again. on nights when he knew he wanted you, you would slip through crowds like a ghost to make your way into warm beds and cold bathrooms, saving him from the jealousy, and saving you from the questions.
of course, there were a few nights where no message would find you, where he wouldn't grab your wrist as you brushed past him in a hallway, his hands distracted with someone else. those nights used to make you cry, your entire being aching for his attention, his indifference just as bruising as his care.
the doorknob rattles again, and there's a knock on the door.
"haechan? are you in there?"
mark's voice.
"they're back early from the party," haechan mumbled. to your shock, he ignores them and tugs off his shirt roughly, revealing delicate tanned skin dotted with moles, looking soft-to-touch.
"haechan," mark's voice is exasperated. "i thought we agreed not to bring girls to our apartment."
haechan rolls his eyes as his hands go to his belt, ridding himself of his pants and underwear. you can see the muscles in his thighs tense as he makes his way up the bed, hands holding your hips.
"you wanted me to fuck you like the other girls?" he murmurs, low so only you can hear. "well. on your knees."
"but mark is –" you break off, seeing the way his eyes narrow, something dangerous flickering in his pupils. "but…but they're outside," you whisper. as if to prove your point, mark bangs on the door again.
and then jisung's voice, low and urgent comes through the door. "who is he even with? the girl he left the show with was alone when i saw her."
"god, are they all outside the door?" haechan grumbles, focusing his attention back on you when you let out a small sound of distress. "forget about them," he soothes, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. his mouth moves over yours searingly, possessive and all-consuming in the way he pushes his tongue into your mouth. "on your knees," he commands, quietly, against your mouth. "i won't ask again."
a thrill runs down your spine as you flip over, his large hands adjusting you so your back arches, head pressed into the pillows as he holds your hips up. he presses a kiss to your back as he reaches off the bed for a condom, rolling it onto his hard length with a soft groan. you look over your shoulder, see him stroking himself, mouth hanging open.
"hurry," you plead. you can feel slick on your thighs from the way he ate you out earlier, growing wetter from anticipation. "please."
he ignores you. "can you be quiet for me?" he mumbles. outside, you can hear the boys discussing something heatedly, voices low so you can't make out the words. "don't want anyone else to hear you."
"yes," you promise, meekly.
"good girl." he lines himself up to your entrance, reaching around to rub your clit as he runs the tip of his cock against your folds. you let out a shaky breath at the feeling, trying hard not to let it catch your vocal cords.
one hand on your hip and the other stroking your lower back, he pushes in slowly, letting you adjust to his girth. you feel a sting as he stretches your walls, filling you up deeply while burying himself inside you. he murmurs for you to relax, listening to you take shallow breaths, the way your hole flutters around his length making him want to thrust forward, relieve his own ache.
"haechan, are you asleep?"
there's a sharp rap on the door, and haechan curses as it makes you tighten around him, gummy walls gripping him like a vice, as if begging for his cum.
"you liked that, baby?" his voice is low, and mocking. you whimper. "you like the idea of them coming in and seeing you like this? letting me take you like a slut?"
"haechan, we know you're in there." now it's jeno's rough voice, devoid of its usual warmth. "we saw the shoes at the door. we need to talk."
haechan pulls out until only his tip is still inside you, and slams back in aggressively, filling you to the brim. he starts to build a rhythm, thrusting deep and slow inside you, letting you feel the drag of him against your walls as he strokes your clit with his fingers. he was taking his time with you — pausing to lean forward and press kisses to your shoulders, mouthing messily over your skin.
"haechan, please -" you try to keep your voice quiet, but he chooses this time to fuck you a little harder, picking up the pace, and your mouth hangs open as your aborted whimpers turn into drawn out moans.
"hm?" he prompts, faking nonchalance. but you can feel that the pace is affecting him too, his breathing growing heavier as he speeds up a little more.
"harder," you mumble, words feeling thick and slow in your mouth. "faster. fuck,"
a bang on the door. the loud sound makes you jolt, and haechan hisses as you clench down on him harshly again, your thighs inching closer together, creating a tighter fit around his thick cock.
"i wonder why they're not coming in yet." his voice in your ear is low, sultry. the kind he uses on-stage when he's teasing the crowd.
"i-isn't the door l-locked?"
"sure…but it's a really old lock. i know mark could open it if he really wanted to. he's done it before when i'm late for rehearsals, ah fuck-" he's slamming himself into you, barely pulling out before pushing in again, wet sounds filling the room. "fuck, you must really like that. how do you just keep getting tighter and tighter, hm?"
"haech–"
"maybe i'll ask them to come in…" he muses, his tone sickly sweet. "i just know you'll cum hard on my cock when they open the door, right? let them see how filthy you are?"
"don't –", you choke.
"should i tell them not to come in?"
"no," you gasp, and he laughs, darkly.
"no, i should tell them to come in?" he asks between breathless pants, pace unrelenting as the lewd sound of skin against skin fills the room. "you want me to talk to them baby?"
you let out an incoherent mumble, no longer sure of anything.
he coos at that. "dumb already, princess?" his hand wanders up to your chest, blunt nails haphazardly scraping across your nipples. your hips push back onto him instinctively, fucking yourself onto his length, your hips chasing pleasure from the sensitivity as you cum.
"haechan, i'm not leaving until you open the door." another thud, as mark sits down.
"fuck…" haechan's only half listening to mark as he throws his head back, murmuring curses as he feels you clench around him, milking his cock. it takes all the self control he has to place his hands on your waist, stilling your movements as he pulls out of you. he's so hard that it hurts, and he knows his release is close, but he still shifts your body until you're lying on your back, and he can see your tear-streaked face, drool smeared all over your chin.
you mouth his name soundlessly, fresh waves of tears gathering on your waterline as you see him move away from you, and you try to sit up to keep him in your line of sight.
"haechan, –"
"i'm here," he murmurs, one hand immediately finding yours and squeezing, the other grappling for the water bottle on the bedside table. he unscrews the cap with one hand as he moves towards you, helping you prop yourself up against the headboard. "drink."
he holds the bottle up to your lips, but you shake your head. "want you," you whisper, even though your mouth feels warm and sticky, your throat dry from moaning. you can't focus on anything except for the emptiness inside you, your clit throbbing whenever you shift your thighs together slightly. you're focused on his hard length, the slope of his shoulders down to his slender waist. you shake your head again, knocking the bottle against your lips and spilling a little bit of the water onto the sheets.
"don't be a brat." his voice is low, a dangerous sort of patience in his tone. "drink, or i won't give you what you want."
you swallow, his voice washing over you, pulling you under. this time when he raises the bottle to your lips, you hold it with shaky hands, letting water trickle down your throat. his own hand comes up, touching two fingers to your neck gently, making sure you were drinking instead of pretending by feeling for the movement of your throat.
"done?" he watches you lick your parted lips, dewy with water and saliva, and takes the bottle from you, placing it back on the stand. "do you want to keep going?"
you nod, slowly.
"use your words," he commands, quietly.
"please don't stop," you plead, shuffling towards him. it feels like the fog has cleared slightly in your head, the water making the heat haze dissipate. vaguely, you're sure that mark, jisung, and jeno must know what you were doing – must have heard the headboard thumping against the wall, haechan's low groans and your breathless whimpers.
you wonder what mark is thinking now, outside, not leaving and yet not breaking in like haechan said he could. it sends a wave of arousal down to your core, some part of you wanting him to see the way you break for haechan, completely and wholly his. your way of rejecting him without having to see his face – your way of explaining why you ignored him whenever he caught your eyes during shows and after-parties.
haechan reads you easily, observing the way your eyes flicker to the door. he's torn between opening the door himself — letting mark see you on his bed, fucked stupid by him, or stepping outside and telling mark to leave because no one should see or hear you like this but him.
"do you want me to tell mark to leave?"
"n-no," you hesitate. "don't."
he raises his eyebrows. "why?"
"w-want him to know that i'm yours," you mumble, a hand wrapping around his thigh and squeezing.
haechan's eyes darken. “mine?” he echoes, quietly, almost gently.
you're so focused on the shift in his features – the set of his jaw, the way he tenses, that you barely notice he's sliding off the bed and picking you up effortlessly so that you cling to his upper body, legs gripping his waist. his lip curls into a smile, head tilted mockingly as he starts to walk, strong arms holding you up.
your back hits solid wood, and you gasp.
"haechan?" mark's voice is crystal clear on the other side of the door.
haechan adjusts his grip, pushing you against the door as he slides his tip along your dripping cunt, making you squirm in his hold.
"be good, hm?" he whispers, as he pushes into you, eyes squeezing shut and jaw dropping open at the feeling of your walls sucking him back in, pulsing along his length and making his cock throb. when he opens his eyes again, his gaze is unfocused, hazy, and you can see that this situation is heightening his arousal, causing his thrusts to be sloppy and unfocused as he chases his own high. each time he pushes into you, the weight of his hips snapping against yours pushes against the door, and you hear it jolt a little, the lock jiggling.
mark's shouted expletive rings against your ears, mirrored by haechan's own as he captures your lips in a kiss. the feeling is familiar and new at the same time, his tongue sliding languidly over yours, swiping against your bottom lip. at the sight of your parted mouth and wet lips, he moans again, and without hesitating he spits into your waiting mouth, sloppy and messy, causing it to dribble past your lips and down your chin.
the rhythm against the door is unmistakable, and you can hear footsteps as mark runs off. haechan laughs, a pleased hum in his chest that vibrates against your own as he leans into you, and he mouths down your neck, biting at your shoulder and letting his low groan scrape against his throat as a growl. you cum when your stiff nipples brush against his chest, the tiny bit of stimulation just enough to throw you over the edge into your orgasm, your thighs clenching around him as you sob, your core aching.
the feeling of your walls rippling around his length is too much to bear, and he barely lets you ride out your orgasm on him before he's pulling out of you and carrying you back to his bed. haechan tugs off the condom urgently as you lie there, tired and spent, watching as he strokes his length, fast, eyes fluttering open and shut with lust, his hips thrusting forward uncontrollably. his thumb ghosts just under the head of his cock, and then he's cumming all over your stomach and chest, sticky white spurts pooling on your skin.
you watch him out of half-lidded eyes as his breathing slows, collapsing next to you in a heap. the high from the sex hasn't faded yet – the consequences of being heard by all his bandmates hasn't hit you, as you bask in the temporary glow of being his.
a finger traces along the cum on your stomach, haechan transfixed by the sight. curious, your hands grab for the small mirror on his bedside table, and he comes out of his daze, handing it to you wordlessly.
in the moonlight, the marks he's made on your skin blur with the shadows. no part of you looks untouched — your tear-streaked face and kiss-swollen lips, bruises on your hips and the sting of the bite mark on your shoulder. your hands tremble a little as you focus the mirror on where his fingers play with his drying cum on your skin, tracing lines and curves.
"'m yours," you mumble out.
"yeah?" he chokes. "mine?"
dazedly, you point to your neck. "yours."
he groans, just watching you, eyes roving over your body. "you're beautiful," he whispers. you think he means it.
"more." your voice is quiet.
"no more, baby," he murmurs, looking up at you with concern. "it's too much for you."
you shake your head. "these could be from anyone," you point at the marks on your neck. his body tenses, hands stiff on your skin. "i want to be yours."
slowly, your words settle over him. he looks at you with an unreadable expression, the kind you see right before he strikes his first chord, the moment his eyes find yours in the crowd. a dark sort of determination, in the way his holds your gaze.
he reaches over, and opens a drawer. you can hear the sound of things knocking around inside as he roots his hand around, finally emerging with an eyeliner pen. through the mirror, you can see his hands splayed out over the space just under your breasts, pulling the skin over your ribcage taut. his tongue pokes out into the lower corner of his mouth as he places the tip of the pen to your skin.
he loops once. skids the pen downwards. jerks it up harshly, ending off with jagged motions, each brush trailing ink on your skin.
when he's done he leans backwards, raising his eyebrows, asking you wordlessly if this was finally enough. his signature on your body, next to the bruises and marks and last remnants of his cum on your skin.
—
"haechan?"
he doesn't respond, but a part of you expects it already – you've memorized the way he leaves.
"why didn't you fuck that girl tonight?"
he takes his time, taking a long sip from his bottle of wine. from where you lie on the bed, you can just see the broad frame of his back, his side profile as he looks out of the window and at the moon, bright in the sky, the milky glow illuminating his skin. without his makeup, he looked like just a boy – pretty features almost dainty on his face. it's his hands which break the facade, calloused and rough, with veins that make your head spin when you think about them for too long, holding the bottle up to his lips.
"didn't feel like it."
you think about his answer, blinking slowly from the sleepiness. "why did you fuck me?"
he faces forward, away from you. "felt like it."
"why?"
"i'm beginning to question that too," he replies, bluntly.
hurt aches in your bones, as silence rings loud in your ears. "if you don't want me here i can just go," you say, softly, and you're sure your voice sounds as wounded as you feel. "you've cleaned me up. i can leave if you want."
you can see him stiffen, his shoulders tensing up.
"where's jaemin?"
of course. sitting up, you wince at the ache between your legs. "he's probably asleep," you answer, bitterly. "but i can just call a cab –"
his back muscles tense, and then he's shifting from where he sits on the edge of the bed. sliding into the space next to you, he rests back against the headboard, legs stretched out over the sheets. a hand wraps around yours.
"ask me easier questions," he mumbles, turning your palm over so he can lace your fingers together, giving them a reassuring squeeze.
your breath stutters.
"what did you talk about? with the band?"
after cleaning you up and tucking you into bed, haechan had finally stalked out of the bedroom to talk to mark, jisung and jeno. he hadn't said a thing when he returned, holding a bottle of wine, placing it on the bedside table before stepping into the bathroom wordlessly to remove his makeup.
haechan blinks down slowly at your intertwined hands. "they asked me what was going on."
"what?"
"i've been losing focus," he mumbles. "during shows and during rehearsal. and jeno noticed i kept ditching girls at parties, said it wasn't like me to not be fucking around at all."
a beat.
you bite your lip. "you're…you're losing focus?"
but he just shakes his head. "they're wrong."
you can see that the topic is upsetting him, so you rush to ask another question. "do you write any of the songs that the band play?"
he raises his eyebrows. "so you care so much about the band now? does that mean you're a fan?"
he ignores your mumbled excuse, squeezing your hand again to let you know he was teasing. "mark usually writes the songs," he answers. "i don't have much to write about." and then, with a little more force, "ask me questions about me, not the band."
"what does this tattoo mean?" you place the tip of your finger just below his ribcage, where there's a small doodle of a bear paw.
"people say i look like a bear," he mumbles, a little shy. even in the moonlight, his pouty lips and round cheeks are evident, his shoulders broad as he slumps against the headboard.
"i see it," you confirm, and a smile flickers on his face.
"yeah?" he looks over at you, and his free arm loops around your shoulder, squeezing you into his side. his affection buzzes in your veins, as you try to divert his attention with another question.
"and what does this tattoo mean?" your other hand comes up again, now to trace at the sunflower peeking out from the base of his neck, trailing down to his shoulder.
he takes a deep breath. "my sister picked it."
"sister?"
"baby sister," he adds, softly. "she just turned six. this is her favorite flower."
"oh."
"why?" he tilts his head, bumping your own gently. "do i not seem like an older brother?"
"i think…" you hum, contemplating. "not when you're onstage," you decide.
"do you think i'm different? from when i'm onstage?"
"i don't know you enough to judge," you say, truthfully. aside from the sex, and from the brief moments right after when it felt like he was truly there, holding you, the haechan you knew was mostly the one flooded with stage lights, the kind of boy you had to beg to earn his attention.
haechan goes quiet, his hand on yours stilling, and you turn to look at him. tension is filling up the room, slow and thick like a fog, and you can't breathe against the weight of everything — the weight of his gaze, the almost boyish way his eyes flick down to your lips and back up to meet yours.
"do you want to?"
you bite your lip.
maybe two weeks ago your heart would have leapt, maybe you would have begged for the opportunity to have him closer.
but your body has already had time to learn disappointment, to defend yourself against his callousness and his cold, learning the art of slipping in and out of intimacies. every line crossed, every boundary blurred.
"do i want to?" you echo, and you see him falter.
maybe his own words held more weight than he'd anticipated.
"you don't?"
or maybe he was just scared to hear your answer.
"will you let me?" you reflect the question back to him. his fingers twitch against your shoulder where he's still holding you.
there were some nights where it felt as if he was taking his adrenaline out on your body, or where he was making you forget the fear of being caught by overriding your senses with pleasure. there were others when you fell so deep into a headspace, that he would care for you gently, something romantic and tender in the negative space between your bodies.
and ultimately all of these nights ended the same – the same curl of his lip, his face closed-off, his voice too steady and unfeeling.
"how would you let me know you?" it's only when he flinches when you catch the harshness to your tone, your own words leaving a bitter aftertaste in your mouth. "by barely letting things slip every night?"
"y/n…" it's not meant as a warning. your name is spoken softly, with an ache in it that makes goosebumps rise up your arms. "i thought you were fine."
"i am," you insist, feeling defensive. "i'm fine with you pretending you don't know me, or when you disappear on the drive home."
"y/n, –"
"just…don't say things if you don't mean them," you finish, mumbling your words to mute the hurt in them.
there's a long silence.
and then, his voice, so delicate and fragile, like he was afraid his words would bruise the space between him and you.
"we're playing at a bar this friday."
you make a sound of confusion, and he continues on. "it's only for a few fans who won some sort of a lucky draw. they get to talk to us and get autographs."
"i didn't enter," you cut in, but still he continues on, as if he was trying to get the words out before he lost his nerve.
"i'm inviting you now. and….and afterwards i'll leave with you and we can go to my place." he swallows. "my real apartment. not this one i share with the band." he lets out a shaky breath. "i don't… i don't usually bring girls there, if you can't tell."
"but…" the wheels in your head are turning slowly, as you try to catch up with what he's saying. "but if i'm there… and it's such a small crowd…the band is going to see that i'm there.
"they will," he confirms quietly.
"they're going to know you invited me. because i'm not a fan."
his lips twitch. "but you like me, no?"
"i do," you concede, absentmindedly. "but i thought you said…the band…"
"i don't think i really care about that anymore." his thumb dips low, brushing over the space under your ribs where his name is temporarily tattooed against your skin. "i…" he hesitates, before his thumb swipes against your skin again, and he takes a deep breath. "i told them about you. just now."
you feel like you're falling – a sense of vertigo making your head spin.
"what did you say?"
"just that…there was a you," he finished, lamely. "that we see each other more, but it's nothing." his hand squeezes yours, a gentle pulse. "nothing yet, anyway."
"i'll take it," you murmur, holding his hand clasped in both of yours and kissing him lightly on his fingertips. his face crumples, his chest caving in on itself with the weight of the tenderness he feels for you in that moment, and he leans in, tilting his head, eyes fluttering closed.
he kisses you like it's a promise, close-lipped and earnest. it feels almost like the two of you are finally on even ground.
—
"what are you trying to do?"
you jump, as the light in the small kitchenette flicks on. dirty dishes pile up in the sink, mugs scattered over the countertop, and the boy leaning against the fridge focuses his gaze on you. his voice is gentle, a mellow sort of sweetness undercut by the deepness of his voice. not in the way jisung's was deep, but a bass to it that gave it authority, one that the boy seldom had to use.
"what do you mean?"
jeno tilts his head. "y/n, do you know why haechan likes to fuck girls after his shows?"
the sweetness on your tongue from haechan's kiss decays into bitterness.
jeno doesn't seem to care. "he gets high off the feeling of the crowd. it's something he doesn't want to let go of, so he finds someone who adores him and makes them prove it." his eyes bore into yours, unblinking. "he doesn't care who he's with, y/n. he just likes the way they sound, screaming his name."
"but why doesn't-" you choke. it feels almost like you're betraying him. "why doesn't he date?"
jeno raises his eyebrows, and you feel pathetic. it’s a long time before he finally answers.
"all the girls are only after the version of him onstage. it's him they like, and haechan's just extending the performance. would you want to date someone who only liked one side of you?"
"but i don't just like that side of haechan," you protest, weakly. even then, you don't know what other sides you're alluding to — was it his gentleness with you? how he always held you after? the one who let his baby sister pick his tattoos?
"y/n?"
a soft voice sounds out from the corridor leading off into the bedrooms. sleep-ridden syllables mumbling out into the still air, calling your name.
"where are you? is everything okay?"
jeno's looking at you with someone like pity in his eyes, the way your body turns towards his voice like an instinct. "haechan isn't even his real name, did you know that?"
he crosses over to you, and places his mug into the sink behind your back. "try not to get too loud," he murmurs. "we're all tired."
and as haechan pulls you into his warm embrace, palms wandering over your skin, you bite your tongue and keep as quiet as possible.
—
haechan's head snaps up as he sees the door swing open again and more girls wander into the bar. there are excited squeals and shouts as they spot the band, he can hear mark's warm laugh and see jisung's wave out of his peripheral vision. behind him, jeno's methodically checking on his drum kit, and haechan can feel his eyes on the back of his neck, as if he knew.
his eyes scan the crowd again, praying he was wrong. but deep down he knows he would recognise your voice anywhere, be able to spot your features even in total darkness.
and right now, you weren't there at all.
his body goes on autopilot, muscle memory kicking in as he plays the chords, does his solos, nods along to the music. the crowd is frenetic, watching the way his eyebrows are drawn together, tonguing at his cheek, his lips downturned — the anger tense in his body making them whisper to themselves, wondering why this was part of his performance today. he keeps his expression slack as he signs autographs, nodding curtly towards fans as they bid him goodbye timidly, intimidated by his stormy gaze.
he doesn't understand why it makes his insides twist, each time he searches the crowd and darts his eyes back to his guitar. maybe he'd just gotten used to seeing you front row at his shows. maybe that was all this was — and you were a bad habit he should have broken.
it's what he tells himself as he lets his hands brush against the girl's as she holds her poster out to him, smiling a close-lipped smile, eyes dragging up and down his body excitedly. he lets her think it's a part of the performance, as he rails her in the bathroom of the bar, his eyes squeezed shut as she moans his name into the sink, trying to ignore the way her body didn't react at all like yours did, that his hands couldn't find purchase on her skin at all, and her voice made him want to crawl out of his skin.
you were a bad habit he should break — at least that's what he tells himself to keep him sane.
-> part 2 here!
taglist: @neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @simpforarmihn @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @smwhrinthehaze (sorry there were q a few i couldn't tag!)
#haechan smut#haechan angst#haechan au#haechan x reader#nct dream smut#nct dream angst#nct smut#nct angst#haechan scenario#nct 127 smut#nct 127 angst#fic: rockstar haechan#donghyuck smut
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boyfriend haechan.
#nct dream#nct#nct fanfic#nct scenarios#nct drabbles#nct fake texts#nct imagines#nct texts#nct x reader#nct fluff#nct dream fanfic#nct dream haechan#nct dream fic#nct dream x reader#nct dream ff#nct dream fake texts#donghyuck#lee donghyuck#haechan#lee haechan#nct haechan#nct lee haechan#nct lee donghyuck#nct donghyuck#haechan x reader#haechan fluff#donghyuck fic#donghyuck drabbles#nct smut#nct 127
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round & round! ★ [ l.dh ]
{💭} hyuck : i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you, but now everyone’s kissing you except me :/
[☆] pairing. haechan x reader, slight jaemin x reader ft. 00’ line, chaewon of lesserafim and sieun of stayc
[☆] genre. smut + fluff | stoner!nct, pwp bc it’s me
[☆] wc. 6.1k
[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), weed/marijuana use, lots of making out, slight choking, dirty talk, fingering, sexual stuff in a semi-public place, use of the word ‘slut’, very slight degradation, not very proofread, pretty tame tbh
[☆] notes. my first time writing again in like??? two years???? istg i didn’t mean to abandon this acc 😞 pls be nice i haven’t written in a while and this is not my most favourite work but i’m warming up for more stuff in da future i just wanted to post a lil self-indulgent smth abt hyuck bc bf☝️ idk how active i’ll be because of uni and other things but i missed u guys!!! any feedback is appreciated enjoy :p
even through the clouds of smoke engulfing the little living room of jeno and jaemin’s shared flat, your hooded eyes still met.
today was an important day amongst your friend group; it was chaewon’s first time smoking up with everyone. your friends weren’t really the type to pressure anyone into doing anything they weren’t sure about, but considering the astounding majority who enjoyed smoking some variation of weed, group sessions were a frequent occurrence. you either joined in or didn’t, chaewon being the latter until she decided of her own accord that she was going to try it with the people she trusted.
you sesh with jeno most often, seeing as he was the one who introduced you to weed and taught you everything you know about it. after weeks of listening to you complain about sleepless nights, jeno suggested you try smoking a joint before you go to bed, especially since it was starting to affect your attendance. (“i can’t keep attending these zoology classes without you, y/n. every time something stupid happens, i laugh and make a joke out loud because i forget you aren’t there, and now i’m pretty sure people think i’m either insane or just really fucking lonely”.)
now, smoking up has been a pretty regular occurrence, especially since jeno introduced you to a bunch of his friends and vice versa, all of you making up one big, happy group of stoners. chaewon and sieun were your friends who got along with everyone else just fine, and though they didn’t hang out with the others as much as you did, they were still welcome whenever.
presently, you are leaning back against the couch, all the way on the end, because jaemin is sprawled out alongside you, opting to rest his legs on your lap. haechan makes a joke that you don’t understand, but you laugh anyway along with everyone else, except renjun who covers up his laugh with cough.
“you can never let me have it, huh?”, hyuck scoffs, narrowing his eyes at renjun who’s mouth forms a thin line. “i know for a fact you find me funny.”
you hear that he makes a remark back at haechan but what he says doesn’t register in your head, everything sounding far away. remembering the special occasion, you turn to face chaewon and sieun, who are giggling away on the floor about something between the two of them. you don’t know what they said but you smile anyway. she clearly seemed like she was having a good trip, and so was everyone else.
swallowing nothing, you realise how dry your throat feels, and with that realisation came this undeniable desire for some form of liquid. “jen,”, you tilt your head back and call out to the boy who was already rolling another joint on the table behind you. “did you end up buying more coke?”
“check the fridge”, he mumbles without looking at you, tongue poking his cheek out of concentration as he focuses on what he was doing. with a groan, you heave jaemin’s legs off your lap, muttering a couple ‘sorry’s when he starts to complain about the change in position.
you all but float to the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and spotting the fresh cans of coke placed neatly in the overcrowded appliance. the first gulp feels like heaven against your parched throat, taking a few more while standing there.
“you gonna share or no?”, a voice startles you, turning to find haechan’s figure looming right behind you with a dopey smile on his face.
“god, we need to get you a bell or something. i never hear you coming”, you roll your eyes before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. you’re disappointed to see that there was no ice in their freezer, but you pour the drink into the glass anyway.
“why are you pouring it into a glass?”, haechan furrows his eyebrows, looking pointedly between the glass and the literal can in your hand. “now we have to wash two glasses when we could’ve just drank it from the can.”
he’s right, of course, but you’re not gonna tell him that. instead, you pretend that you were planning on adding some lemon juice to the drink because you saw it on instagram. while you figure he doesn’t believe you, he humours you anyway and tries your little concoction, which ends up being pretty damn good.
out of all of jeno’s friends, haechan definitely stood out to you. you didn’t really understand why, you were just drawn to him, even way back before you met him, when jeno used to tell you about his friends. “loud and annoying” were the words he used to describe him, but the smile that appeared on his face anyway let you know that he was someone special to jeno. this was not to say his other friends weren’t special, you got along incredibly well with all of them, meshing right in with their group.
as of right on cue, jaemin’s voice loudly sounds out from the living room, “are you guys fucking in there or what?”.
sighing, you pick up your glass and begin to walk out of the kitchen, but not before purposely knocking haechan’s shoulder when you walk past him, hearing him snort before following you out as you exit the room. perhaps if you had lingered in the kitchen for a couple seconds longer, you would’ve heard haechan muttering something along the lines of “i wish” under his breath.
“jeez, took you long enough, can i have some of that?”, renjun drawls, lifting himself off the armchair with a smile, to which you roll your eyes but pass him your glass anyway. you sit down on the floor opposite the couch and he looks as if he is about to compliment your drink-making skills before haechan cuts him off.
“dude, chaewon and sieun look like they’re about to fall asleep, let’s do something”, he half yawns out, opting to stroll over to your spot on the floor and sinking down next to you.
“not…sleepy…”, chaewon murmurs, but her voice is muffled because her cheek is pressed against sieun’s shoulder, both of them sprawled out on the floor like it was a comfortable bed.
“sure you aren’t…”, jeno chides with a smile, getting up from the table to walk over to where all of you were situated. he twirls his newly rolled joint between his fingers, finally holding it out in his palm as if it were some magical gadget, and if you were being fully honest, you were sold. “round 2? or 3, I can’t really remember…”
some words of agreement were muttered across the room, chaewon and sieun even groggily getting up from what looked like a very comfortable napping spot. another rotation began, and you made sure to blow out your smoke directly into an unsuspecting haechan’s face when it was your turn.
“let’s play a game or something”, jaemin suggests, taking a long puff and passing it to jeno who sat beside him, and soon the room was hazy once again, the smell of weed infiltrating your nostrils.
“like what?”, chaewon coughs weakly in between her hit and renjun pats her back before he hands her your coke that you hadn’t received back after you gave it to him. so long for that.
“monopoly?”, jeno offers with a shrug and haechan lets out an obnoxious snore as a reply, making you laugh but you cover it up with a cough when you meet jeno’s playfully narrowed eyes. “okay then, big guy, what’s your incredible idea?”
haechan appears to actually think about it for a moment, looking around the room for some sort of inspiration maybe, until his eyes land on you.
“okay jaemin, get that empty wine bottle from last week, we’re playing spin the bottle”, he is grinning from ear to ear, wiggling his eyebrows even though all his suggestion receives is a bunch of groans and sighs.
your eyebrows are raised however, and you try not to let your reaction show too much on your face. spin the bottle? you hadn’t played that since you were maybe fourteen, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. haechan wanted to play spin the bottle? who was he hoping to kiss? or was it just a whimsical little suggestion that was more of a joke?
it didn’t fully seem like he meant it as a joke, judging by his expression as he awaited some actual responses from the group. “what are we, fourteen?”, renjun might as well have read your mind, but he soon joins you and haechan on the floor, the others following suit. jaemin presents the empty bottle and places it in the middle of the little circle you have formed, everyone seeming slightly more keen as the joint runs out.
maybe it was the thc talking, but it didn’t really seem like a bad idea to you anymore. you were all single, attractive and close enough that it wouldn’t make things weird, and most importantly, you wouldn’t mind getting more familiar with haechan’s lips.
you shocked your own self with the sudden lewd thoughts in your head about the male sitting next to you, squirming in your position slightly. he turns his head towards you like he could hear your thoughts (“shut up, y/n, he can’t hear your thoughts…right?”) and you swear his eyes soften a bit. “are you sure you wanna play?”, he asks softly, mistaking your tenseness for discomfort, but you shake your head a little too quickly for your liking.
“no, no, let’s play, it’s not like we have anything better to do, right?”, you feign indifference and after everyone else agrees, the bottle is spun for the first time by haechan.
much to renjun’s dismay, it lands on him, and it’s almost comical the way he looks at the bottle pointing at him before slowly looking up at haechan. “renjunnie, let me kiss you”, haechan whines in a high pitched tone while drawing out the “you”, puckering his lips expectantly. the next three minutes consist of renjun listing every single person he would rather kiss than haechan, and you’d have half the mind to volunteer yourself if you weren’t clutching at your sides laughing at the whole exchange, slapping at both jeno and sieun who tried and failed to dodge your waving hands.
renjun finally relents when chaewon suggests he lets him kiss his cheek instead, but haechan is no quitter so he makes sure that he plants the loudest, most wet kiss on his face before sighing in victory when he sits back down. renjun is not the most happy with this, and he tells jaemin to take his turn instead while he rushes off to the bathroom to wash his face. hyuck looks indignant, calling out behind renjun, asking if he wants another one.
taking the turn instead of renjun, jaemin spins the bottle harshly, and it spins and spins and spins for what seemed like an eternity. your eyes are so focused on the way the bottle looks as it spins that you don’t even notice that it has stopped, until jeno nudges you with his shoulder. it’s neck is pointed directly at you, and you finally look up from your trance at jaemin, who wears an undeniable smirk on his face.
while you didn’t exactly see him that way, there was absolutely no denying that jaemin was a very attractive man, and he was no different presently, the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up as he propped himself up with his arms, looking at you expectantly.
you don’t want to look at haechan right now, because you can see out of the corner of your eye that his face is looking straight forward, not at you or jaemin, just forward. you wonder what is going through his head, but your thoughts are cut short when jaemin scoots closer to you in the circle.
“are you okay with this?”
and when you think about, you are. “yeah, i mean it’s just a game”, you reply, not wanting to ruin the fun or raise any suspicions, to which jaemin agrees and inclines his head towards you.
he kisses you, more fully than you were expecting, but you had no complaints really as you kissed him back, titling your head in the opposite direction to slip your lips over his. you wonder if your lips were as dry as they felt, and in the back of your mind it registers that your friends are watching you kiss your other friend because they hoot and giggle, but you can’t really bring yourself to care.
jaemin’s lips taste sweet and he smells sweet, his touch soft as he brings a hand up to your cheek, gently holding it while he continues kissing you. it probably wasn’t as long as it felt, but jaemin finally pulls away, the remnants of his sweet chapstick lingering on your lips. you are aware of how hot your face feels when you pull away and return to your spot, tucking your hair behind your ears.
“dude, what chapstick do you use?”, you ask after clearing your throat, and jaemin rummages in his pant pocket for a moment before whipping out a cute pink tube, holding it out in front of him. “strawberry dream, baby”, he winks, reapplying it on his lips. “never go anywhere without it.”
renjun returns after god knows how long, stating that he had to re-do his skin care routine because haechan had completely thrown off his skin’s ph balance, and is saddened to hear that he missed witnessing you and jaemin.
the game continues in a steadfast manner for the next couple of rounds thanks to haechan insisting we play one more round, though it doesn’t exactly go in the manner you were hoping for. the group is practically in tears after watching jeno and jaemin share an awkward kiss, chaewon arguing that they can’t claim “no homo” because it was the most homo thing she’d seen in a while, and that was saying a lot because she was, in fact, gay.
you have now kissed sieun, jaemin once again and an especially endearing renjun, who’s cheeks and tips of his ears are painted a bright red after you plant a full peck on his waiting lips. haechan grumbles something about renjun not having kissed anyone besides his mom to explain his reaction, but jeno is quick to cut renjun off before another argument ensues.
“i don’t know about you guys, but i think that’s enough exchanging of saliva for one day”, he all but sighs, lying down on the floor dramatically. while you do agree, you’re disheartened, because not once has the bottle landed on you when spun by haechan, or the other way around. it feels like the universe is fucking with you, because really how many times can you spin a bottle between a group of seven people and not have it land on the one person you want to kiss even once.
haechan looks like he wants to say something, but appears to decide against it in the end, stretching and standing up. it is then mutually agreed by everyone that it was time to watch a movie.
“super bad?”, jaemin proposes, and even though most people had already watched the movie, no one argues against it and jeno starts setting up the movie on their big screen tv.
settling into the couch, you glance over at haechan and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling a tad bit disappointed. this whole spin the bottle thing makes you wonder about all the other times where you could have had an opportunity to make a move on the brown-haired boy.
you’d gone on long drives together, gone partying, even drank with just each other a couple of times. the closest the two of you had ever come to crossing that line was while you where dancing at a party and his arms were looped around your waist from behind, slowly swaying to the beat. you’d danced with him tons of times before that but you recall thinking the air was a little different than normal, more heated, but you also recall mistaking renjun for your professor, so you didn’t trust yourself. the moment came and went, and neither of you ever had the balls to address it, and now it had been way too long since to bring it up.
“this seat taken?”, haechan snaps you out of your bitter thoughts, jerking his head towards the spot on the couch next to you. you clear your throat and shake your head, scooting over slightly so he could sink down next to you. “what’s up, y/n, you look a little…not present. you still high?”
it’s funny because your mind certainly wasn’t present, it was in the gutter, but you choose to blame the weed. “yeah, i’m still high”, you answered truthfully, and so was he, his red, hooded eyes a dead giveaway.
“okay, perfect, i wanted to show you this stupid tiktok i saw”, he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket and leaning closer to you to show you some video of a cat, or maybe a dog, you weren’t paying attention. he laughs at whatever the animal did, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does so, and you observe him instead of watching. when he doesn’t hear you laugh, he peeks over at you but you’re quick to turn your head back to his phone, letting out a very late giggle at the video.
if he did catch you, he doesn’t mention it, continuing to scroll and show you more videos. jeno finally gets the movie set up and turns off the lights, taking up the final seat left on the couch. the movie begins, and everyone falls into a comfortable silence bar hyuck, who makes the occasional comment that earns him a snort from you each time.
at some point during the movie, haechan stretches his arms out behind him, placing his arm on the head of the couch directly behind you. glancing at him quickly, you can’t tell whether the action was purposeful or not, because if it was, he was doing a very good job of looking nonchalant. you try your best to ignore it, but his hand is resting directly above your shoulder, inches away from touching you- but it never does.
you had never noticed what nice hands haechan had before. long and slender, nails clipped short and clean, his middle, ring and index finger adorned with various silver rings. you note that he wears three rings on his left hand, but none on his right. his right hand sits on top of one of his thighs, two of his fingers drumming against it following some rhythm going on in his head. his fingers are long, and the only thing you can think about is just how nice they would feel inside–
no, no, no, stop it, since when are you this horny?
you realise stressing out about how horny you are all of a sudden is just going to lead to a bad trip and you don’t want that, and you want to clear your head. even though you’re feeling a different kind of thirsty, you figure a distraction for a couple minutes would be helpful, so you excuse yourself to go get some water, jumping up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. unbeknownst to you, haechan’s watchful eyes follow your figure as you exit the room.
finally away and in the kitchen, you fill up a glass and lean over the sink, closing your eyes to collect yourself. you can finish the movie without driving yourself crazy over haechan, right? tonight is no different than any other hangout and you don’t want to weird haechan out with your unnecessary staring and poorly concealed thirsting. you just need to stop thinking about his stupid hands, his stupid thighs, his stupid hair and his stupid kissable lips. “kissable? lock in, y/n, lock in…”
“who are you talking to?”
you wince but don’t turn around, eyes screwed shut tightly. you’ve been gone for a couple minutes and you don’t know when he left the room, but you put down the glass and turn to face him.
“what’s got you so jumpy?”, he questions, leaning against the counter. his arms are folded and his gaze is piercing, face tilted slightly to the left as he observes you. this is the second time he’s startled you in the kitchen today and also happens to be the very reason you’ve been so jumpy.
“nothing, i just…god, you need to starting announcing your entry into a room, dude…”
he furrows his eyebrows but lets out a chuckle anyway, slowly sauntering over to where you stood. eyes never leaving yours, he now stands directly in front of you, caging you in between the sink and his body. the closer proximity and dim lighting isn’t helping your case in the slightest, feeling all hot and bothered as if there was a sudden change in temperature. “what’s happening? you’re usually never like this, we’ve smoked up together so many times. are you having a bad trip?”
you understand why he might think that, what with your jerky movements, dazed staring and just overall disconnected demeanour. while you were wound up a little tighter than usual, you weren’t having a bad trip, your mind was just very slightly preoccupied. “no, hyuck, i’m fine, i just…needed some water”, it’s a half-lie you tell, choosing to not tell him the full truth for the sake of your own pride.
“you just seem…off”, he seems to pick his words carefully, eyes roaming over the expanse of your face. “no, i just…”, you trail off to try and find the words to explain this situation away, but he’s just looking at you so intensely. it’s so silent in the room and the air feels all too still, and you swear you’re trying to speak coherently but haechan switches his weight to his other leg, wetting his lips with his tongue while he awaits an answer and you just freeze. “i…”
“‘i’ what? see? you’re doing it again”, he starts, running a hand through his hair, and the muted light that leaks in through the window illuminates only one half of his face, but you can see him so clearly that even the way his pretty eyelashes brush against his cheek when he blinks doesn’t go unnoticed by you. you’re subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. “you have this look in your eye. like you wanna…”
“…what?”
everything is still and unmoving, until your eyes zero in on haechan’s hand as he raises it, slowly bringing it to graze his fingers over your cheek. his touch leaves a burning hot trail on your skin and using his thumb, he releases your bottom lip from under your teeth, hand lingering cautiously for a fleeting moment before he drops it.
“like what, haechan?”, you repeat yourself, urging him to just say whatever it is he has to say, getting tired of this back and forth. you could sell a kidney just to see what was going on in his mind right now, because he looks torn between speaking his mind and just staying silent.
“like you want to kiss me.”
a few beats of complete and utter silence pass, not even hearing the dull sound of the television in the living room anymore over the thudding of your heart in your ears. haechan takes a small and tentative step towards your frozen figure, gripping the counter you’re using to lean against with his right hand, effectively trapping you in your place. now you really are a deer caught in headlights, because he’s spoken what you’ve been thinking about for the past couple hours into existence and he is absolutely correct.
“am i wrong, pretty?”
judging by your sharp intake of breath and open-mouthed expression, you’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. he looks as if he’s waiting for you to answer him regardless, giving you a chance to get out of this, but your voice is no longer functioning, and it takes all the strength in your body to shake your head ‘no’.
his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, tongue peeking out to lick his lips again. “i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you”, his voice is strained as he admits this, quiet and careful like he’s holding back while his eyes are trained on yours like he’s daring you to break eye contact. you don’t. “but then everyone else was kissing you but me.”
normally you would giggle at his little frown, but all you can muster up is a whisper of his name, finally breaking his all-consuming eye contact in favour of looking at his lips again. you don’t know who moves first, but the next thing you know is your lips are pressed together in a fierce kiss, your hands tangled in his soft, brown locks while he grip your waist and pull you into him.
he kisses you like a man starved and you do the same with equal fervour, not even being able to process that your little daydream is coming true. his hand comes up to caress your cheek, soon moving down your neck after stroking your face softly, using it to tilt your head for you. the position of his hand is very purposeful because his thumb presses into your throat ever so slightly, but his grip is still tight enough that you couldn’t break the kiss (not that you wanted to, anyway). the other hand snakes around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, pressing his hips into yours.
you’re positively drunk off the feeling of haechan’s lips molding over yours and you think you might just ascend when he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. body on fire, you mewl against his lips, swirling your own tongue around his while he slowly but surely bucks his hips into yours.
no wards are spoken while your hands thread through his hair, pulling on it and letting out a sound of surprise into his mouth when his hand trails down to your ass and grips it harshly. he finally releases you from the searing kiss, but he doesn’t let you catch your breath, instead spinning you around in his hold so that his front presses tightly into your back, hands slipping around your waist from behind. this feels like a déjà vu kind of moment because you are reminded of the time when you both were dancing in this exact position, except this time you were getting exactly what you wanted.
“you know how bad i wanted this?”, his voice echoes your thoughts and breaks the silence, hands running up and down your front in a teasing manner. lifting your shirt up slightly, he trails his fingers over the exposed skin of your torso and the action makes you squirm in his hold a little, and much to your surprise, he groans lewdly against your ear. “fuck, i’ve been thinking of this for so long. kissing you, having my hands all over you…”
you get the sense he’s talking more to himself than you, but you revel in it nonetheless. his hand grips your jaw and squishes your cheeks together so your lips form a pout, forcing it to the side where he plants one, two, three kisses to your puckered mouth. his other hand slips further up your shirt where he brazenly cups your boob through your bra, fondling one of them while his tongue peeks out to flick at your bottom lip.
you’re putty in his arms, all gasps and squirms and whispered ‘haechan’s. “what, baby?”, he mumbles into your cheek, the hand gripping your jaw letting go in order to slink down to your hip where it lingers for a moment. “what do you want?”
your lack of answer doesn’t bode well with him, earning you a tight squeeze to your hip as a kind of warning. “need you to touch me”, you whisper out defeatedly, and you feel haechan laugh mockingly against your face.
“yeah? need me to touch you?”, he mimics your voice while tutting, letting his hand slip further down to where you needed him the most, but not letting you have it just yet. “think you can be a good girl and keep quiet for me? we don’t need everyone outside hearing what a little slut you’re being in here.”
everyone outside. the fact that you were just a room away from all your friends who were sat watching a fun little movie together had completely slipped your mind, but if you were being honest, you couldn’t find it in you to give a shit. everything about your current disposition was so dirty. one hand under your shirt, the other about two seconds away from fingering you right in the middle of your friends’ kitchen, while said friends were sat outside, unaware of the goings-on under their own roof.
though you didn’t think actually getting caught in this position would be the most pleasant experience, the idea of it dampened your panties and caused you to whine out loud, tilting your head back against haechan’s shoulder. you receive an immediate hand clamped over your mouth in return, haechan tutting in your ear condescendingly. “looks like the little slut can’t follow a simple request.”
even though he reprimands you, his hands begin fumbling with the button of your jeans anyway, undoing it and pulling the zipper down. one hand comes up to wrap around your front and rests on your shoulder, holding you in place, and the other he sticks down your pants and cups your heat but makes no effort to move, chuckling when you try to move yourself against it. his crotch ruts against the swell of your ass and for you, any friction is better than no friction at the moment. with one hand gipping the arm around your shoulder, you slip the other behind you to palm at his hard cock over his pants, making him let out a sound of approval.
“please, hyuck”, you shake your face free of his hand and turn to look him in the eye, and he grips your throat and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.
he seems to accept your plea, finally moving his hand against you and you breathe a sigh of relief, lost in the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit over your wet underwear. he’s quick to slip his hand inside your panties, cold fingers pressed directly on to your bare pussy, spreading your wetness all over you. when he ultimately slips a finger into your tight, waiting core, you moan but it’s cut short when he slaps his hand over your mouth again. “keep. quiet.”
if someone were to walk in, the two of you would be a sight to see. you writhing in his tight hold while his hand is stuffed in your pants, two fingers pistoning in and out of you at a fast pace as his forehead is pressed against the side of your face, releasing short breaths. you look positively fucked out, and you’re both in a state of complete bliss as you grind against each other in a timely rhythm.
“my pretty girl. if i had known you wanted this too, i would’ve just grabbed you and kissed you like i wanted, in front of everyone.”
his voice is honey-like and sultry, and his fingers are nothing short of heavenly. they pump in and out of you, and he still manages to use his thumb to toy with your clit in this position, leaving you breathless and on the edge. “can’t believe jaemin and renjun got to kiss you before me.”
you’re so wet that your cunt makes downright sinful noises as he fingers you and you’re hoping that it isn’t really as loud as it seems. “you’re so wet, angel. so this is what had you all jumpy today”, he laughs like he’s stating the obvious, and you’d have half the mind to feel shy if his ministrations didn’t feel so fucking good right now.
you’re aware that you’re close and so is he because you’re clenching around his fingers, so he quickens his pace both inside you and against your clit. “you gonna cum for me, baby? right here, in the middle of kitchen, while everyone’s outside?”, he purrs against your face and you grip the part of his arm that isn’t shoved in your pants, digging your nails into his skin in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. his words make you feel dirty in the best way, not even knowing you could feel this turned on.
he peppers kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking here and there, and through the pale moonlight bleeding into the room from the window, the red blemishes that begin to bloom on your skin are visible to hyuck, and he seems pleased with his artwork. “that’s it, sweetheart, let go for me.”
your moans are muffled against his palm when you finally come, the orgasm ripping through you so strongly that you go limp in his hands, legs almost buckling at the sensation. with the added boost of the weed you smoked earlier, your orgasm is immense, feeling it pulse through your body until it’s too much, whining and wriggling in haechan’s firm hold. he holds you still and helps you ride out your high, whispering utterances of “that’s right, baby” and “my good girl” into your ear while you throw your head back and try to regulate your breathing.
in a moment, his hand slips out of your pants, turning you back around so you’re now facing him, grinning down at you from ear to ear as if you both hadn’t just defiled jaemin and jeno’s kitchen. “you feeling okay?”, he mumbles, tucking your hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t soaked, pressing a number of kisses all over your face as you nod and giggled, trying to evade his attack. he lets you go just to wash his hands, and it’s when he dries his wet hands on the material of his pants that you notice his raging boner, immediately feeling bad.
“wait hyuck, let me–“
as if he’s reading your mind once again, he shakes his head and takes both of your hands into his, wrapping them around his own waist while pulling you into him. “we can save that for another time, pretty”, he insists, his expression turning shy when he realises the implications behind his words. “that is, i-if you want another time, of course–“
it’s your turn to cut him off this time, but you do so by leaning up and connecting your lips again, bring a hand up to stroke his cheek. “of course i want another time, hyuck. i want this. i want you.”
your assurances do good to bring a smile to his pretty face, taking ahold of the hand on his cheek and pressing his lips to your skin gently, lovingly. “so, so, perfect.”
taking note of the prolonged amount of time the two of you had been gone, you skulk back into the living, but this time, hand in hand.
the scene you’re greeted with is a surprising one, because you find every single one of your friends to be sound asleep, much to your amusement and hyuck’s dismay. “so you’re telling me i could’ve been hearing you moan the whole time and none of these idiots would have even known?”, he is appalled, a hand coming up to rub at his face out of frustration. “i did all that for nothing?”
“i wouldn’t say for nothing”, you reveal, biting your lip and smiling up at the boy shyly. “i might have woken them up.”
“oh yeah, well now you’re going to”, and with that, he’s dragging you back to the kitchen while you giggle, nearly tripping over your own feet before he all but scoops you up in his arms, muttering to himself about having left something in the kitchen that needed urgent fetching.
#nct#haechan#kflixnet#haechan smut#haechan x reader#haechan scenarios#haechan au#haechan imagines#haechan angst#haechan oneshot#haechan drabbles#haechan fluff#haechan fic#haechan headcanons#nct fluff#nct 127#nct fic#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct au#nct smut#nct x reader#nct dream#nct dream imagines#nct dream x reader#nct dream smut#nct dream fluff#donghyuck smut#donghyuck x reader#stoner!nct
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lee haechan fic recs!
❤︎ I LIKE YOU (I DO) (L.DH) - @domjaehyun (stoner!haechan just wants you to know how much he likes you.)
❤︎ paperclip - @smileysuh (yandere, ex bf! hyuck)
❤︎ My Boy. - @prodbymaui (A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.)
❤︎ kiss it better - @yeow6n (haechan gets hurt but you know that with him it’s not going to be as simple as putting a band-aid on it)
❤︎ sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH - @haechwrites (prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.)
❤︎ bus stop - @ooshu (haechan rides the bus. you hop on the same ride. minutes later, you two were a couple. he never questioned why.)
❤︎ strawberries & cigarettes - @hyudior (the art school's play is in two days and you're running out of time to put everything together since your known enemy lee donghyuck decided that the rehearsal day was the perfect day to release a launch party for his new album.)
❤︎ >> take my breath - @hyuckwrlds
❤︎ moles ♡‧₊˚ lee haechan - @sleeping-sirens (you read something on the internet that made you feel jealous of a person you didn’t even know but haechan knows just how to reassure you.)
❤︎ haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby - @hyuckmov (he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flicking his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggle up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction.)
❤︎ eyes tell - @tonicandjins (donghyuck has been trying to confess his feelings to you. third time's the charm, he thinks.)
❤︎ going below zero | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (Considering how much Haechan makes it his personal mission to antagonize you at work, it seems like a rather cruel twist of fate that the both of you have been side by side since middle school, the only consolation being that his office is a different floor from yours. But if there’s a saying about how distance makes the heart grow fonder, your attitude with him might just be the opposite, and it’ll take a family ski holiday to find out.)
❤︎ take my breath. - @sixzeroes (lee donghyuck did not believe in ‘love at first sight.’ key word: did. he does now, but only because you happened to fall into his arms on the icy road in the narrow streets. you’re going to render him breathless from the countless times your smile takes his breath away.)
❤︎ ice cream thief [ l.dh ] - @tddyhyck (someone has been eating haechan's favorite ice cream so he decides to put a hidden camera in the kitchen and living room thinking it's a shared space it shouldn't invade anyone's privacy... right?)
❤︎ tease | lee haechan - @hyuckiefluff (Playing spin the bottle definitely wasn't what you had envisioned for your first college party. And the last person you expected to see was Lee Haechan. But life has a funny way of throwing surprises at you, and this time it came in the form of the bottle landing on some drunk dude who dared you to kiss Haechan.)
❤︎ 𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹⁸⁺ - @goldyeokki (you and lee donghyuck both get along like oil and water. if it were up to you, you would be going about your days without even breathing in his direction. unfortunately you're in the same friend group and you have to tolerate each other. as handsome or attractive as people claim him to be, you hate his guts. there's so many reasons why you hate him, so why do you get butterflies in your stomach when he's near?)
❤︎ high (with my lover) [m] – l.dh - @yeonghosins (y/n smokes up with donghyuck for the first time)
❤︎ what the puck! - @choerrypuffs (you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue.)
❤︎ double take | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (friends to lovers, highschool au, slowburn, fluff, angst)
❤︎ Your Red Lipstick || L.DH - @ihaechans (Kisses, kisses, kisses. That’s all your boyfriend wants. When you refuse to give him the one thing he craves, he won’t leave you alone, begging and begging until you give in.)
#nct#nct x reader#nct fluff#nct angst#nct dream#nct dream x reader#nct dream angst#nct dream fluff#nct haechan#haechan fluff#haechan angst#nct 127#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 fluff#lee donghyuck#haechan fic recs#nct donghyuck#haechan#donghyuck#hyuck#haechan smut#haechan suggestive#haechan imagines#haechan scenarios#haechan fics#lee haechan fluff#lee haechan#lee haechan imagines#nct imagines#haechan fic rec
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pillow ♡ haechan
genre: fluff ⭒ word count: under 0.5k
"what are you doing down there?" hyuck peers at you. you’re snuggled up against his torso, face pressed into his tummy and limbs spread out across the bed.
your words are muffled. “laying on you.”
he chuckles. “on my stomach?” his fingers thread through your hair. the action has your eyes closing in contentment, a faint smile on your lips.
“i used to do this with my mom.” you tell him before gently yawning. he’s so warm beneath you, so soft and comforting that you could fall asleep any minute.
what you don’t know is he’s holding his breath, bottom lip caught between his teeth. your hand’s snuck beneath his shirt and hyuck’s contemplating the situation. no one’s touched him here before; he’s always been shy.
“love your tummy.” you sigh dreamily. “it’s better than any pillow.” the confession has your boyfriend’s head spinning even more. a light blush stains his cheeks.
“really?” hyuck asks, fingers stilling in your hair. he’d never thought about it that way.
while he’s deep in thought, you’ve slowly begun to lift the bottom of his shirt, revealing just enough of his lower stomach to pepper kisses. “it’s so cute,” you murmur in between pecks, lips softly grazing every inch of skin.
now hyuck’s certainly blushing. “maybe—maybe we can do this again?” he says.
turns out he likes this.
#haechan#nct#nct dream#nct 127#nct fluff#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct x reader#haechan fluff#lee donghyuck#nct fanfic#nct haechan#nct drabbles#nct dream fluff#haechan scenarios#haechan imagines#nct fic#haechan x reader
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Impatient || L.DH
PAIRING ▸ Lee Donghyuck x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ smut
WARNINGS/CONTENT ▸ profanity, clingy and whiny Hyuck, oral (f), groping, fingering, unprotected sex (don't be reckless pls..), jealous hyuck, multiple orgasms, creampie, nothing TOOOOO crazy tbh
SUMMARY ▸Your boyfriend Donghyuck just wants you all to himself.
WORD COUNT▸2k
A/N: This has legit been in my drafts since last year and I just finished it now. Wanted to release something before Die 4 You since I sadly won't have time to make any Halloween fic this year </3 please know this is not proofread so ignore mistakes, PLEASE...
“Alright, just let me know if you come up with any other ideas for the project. I’ll start my assigned section right away. Bye Jisung.” You sigh, quickly hanging up the phone without hesitation.
You love Jisung, you really do... but sometimes he really gets on your nerves. Both of you had decided to be partners for a project, and if you knew he was so clueless about every little thing maybe you should’ve just partnered up with Jaemin instead.
You huff, visibly irritated at the number of times Jisung has called you for instructions or help within the past hour, nearly screaming when you get another call from him not even a minute after you had just hung up.
Donghyuck laughs from beside you, the sound barely audible due to his face being buried into your side. “Jisung. He’s so cute.” your boyfriend mumbles sarcastically, smiling when you raise your voice at the poor boy on the phone.
You hang up once again, letting out a sound of exasperation.
“Don't get too mad Y/n, you know that’s just how he is,” Donghyuck whispers, pulling you closer into him as he caresses your side.
“You’re awfully touchy today. What’s up?”
“Hm?” he hums, nuzzling his face closer to your side as his wandering hand finds place on your stomach. “I just love my girlfriend.” He sighs, continuing his ministrations.
You’re suspicious but continue typing away on your laptop while trying your best to ignore Donghyuck’s suggestive touching.
“I swear to god,” you mutter, staring at your phone as another incoming call from Jisung appears on the screen. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”
“Then ignore it.”
Your boyfriend’s voice takes you by surprise. “What?”
“I said ignore it. He’s been interrupting my sweet time with my girlfriend. He’ll be fine on his own for a while.”
You laugh, the seriousness of his statement slipping past your mind. “Sweet time with your girlfriend is watching me do my project? Cute.” Smiling, you run your fingers through his hair a few times before resuming to type at your laptop, unknowingly annoying Donghyuck.
He huffs but you don’t seem to notice, too busy talking with Jisung on the phone, explaining something Donghyuck couldn’t care less about. He would get your attention sooner or later, he was sure of it.
His soft touches against your skin turn more suggestive within the next few minutes. You don’t mention it to him out loud, but he knows that you noticed.
His fingers dance across your thighs, grabbing and squeezing at them before you place your hand on top of his, stopping his mischievous actions. “Hyuck. What are you doing?” You whisper, making sure your mouth is far away from the speaker of your phone where Jisung was still on the line.
“I’m tired of waiting for you to be done. Why don’t you just cut it short for the day? Hm?” He doesn’t let you answer, getting up from his position so he can slot himself in between your legs.
Mouthing “no” and “stop” aggressively at him doesn’t work, his wandering hands already trying to slither under the bottom of your shorts. “Stop!” you whisper-yell, gaze demanding and stern.
Donghyuck simply ignores you, continuing to massage your inner thighs as he makes his way higher and higher.
You try to ignore him and carry on with the conversation with Jisung, a surprised gasp leaving your lips when he shifts your shorts and panties to the side, licking a fat stripe up your pussy.
“Take these off for me baby. M’ gonna make you cum so hard for me.” There’s no shamefulness in his words and he says it loud and clear, the younger man on the phone pausing to ensure he heard that correctly.
“Are you sure you’re home alone?... I swear I just heard-”
“Yup! All alone!” You exclaim, accidentally drawing out your words to avoid moaning out. You bite your lip painfully hard, trying to conceal the sounds that were threatening to leave your mouth as your boyfriend continues to play with your cunt. He thumbs away at your clit, soft tongue placing kitten licks teasingly on your core as you shiver.
Giving in, you allow him to remove your shorts and panties, wasting no time to immediately bury his face in between your legs. “Jisung,” you breathe out, “I might have to call you back later…”
The boy on the line sighs, whining, “But Y/n, it’s an emergency and I need your help.” You could practically see the pout on his face through the phone, a sigh of annoyance and pleasure leaving your lips.
“Fuck…” you whimper, hips bucking up into Hyuck’s mouth as he continues to devour you, his tongue fucking inside of you as he thumbs at your clit.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks Y/n! I’ll be waiting for your call.” Jisung doesn’t wait for your response, hanging up almost immediately after he finishes his sentence, which was more than great for you.
Donghyuck seems to take that as his cue to speed things up, his tongue abusing your clit at a much faster rate. Your free hand searches for something to hold onto as your phone clatters onto the floor, legs wrapping around your boyfriend’s head to hold him in place as your back arches off the bed.
“Oh my god. Hyuck…” You’re not able to protest much, his tongue too busy licking up everything you have to offer. You moan loudly, voice louder than you had intended.
Donghyuck chuckles before quickly replacing his tongue with a finger, tongue licking at your swollen clit as he, plunges his index finger as deep as it will go into your tightness before pulling out and repeating the action.
The sensation of having his tongue against your entrance as he fucked you was overwhelming, a gasp leaving your lips as you found yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm. “Yes Hyuck… yes…” You whimper, hips jerking up into his face as you cum on his tongue, his finger still fucking your pussy at a relentless pace.
You call out his name over and over again as he licks up everything you give him, face soaked in your cum as he looks up at you with a shit-eating grin.
“Hey, I was trying to finish up my work so we could fuck later,” you whine, pouting at the boy as he stands up. He licks his lips, smirking as he licks away at your juices before wrapping his arms around your waist.
“I was trying my best to be a good boy,” he muses, lifting your hips up from the bed as you wrap your legs around his waist. “But the more you denied my advances, the harder I became.” He continues, kissing your collarbone.
“That’s not fair, baby,” you breathe out, biting your lip. “I was just trying to get him off the phone, you know that." He hums, not bothering to reply as his lips immediately find yours again. Your hands fumble with his shirt, tugging it off of him as his tongue dances into your mouth.
He was much more aggressive than usual, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that he was being a little bit needy. Though you kind of wanted to tease him, you couldn’t keep the grin from crossing your lips as he kissed you deeply, hands roaming your body as you moaned into his mouth.
“God… I missed you…” you whisper, biting down on his bottom lip lightly as he pushes your back down onto the mattress softly.
“I think I can let this pass since you’ve missed me so much,” he muses, climbing on top of you as he grinds his cock against your soaked pussy. “You’ve been teasing me all day.”
“I have not,” you protest, gasping as he grinds against you once more.
“You’ve been working and not paying attention to me.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes. “First of all, I’m working on my biggest project to date. Second of all, you’re the one who’s been teasing me.” Your breath hitches as his cock, still clothed in his jeans, grinds against your clit.
“That’s because I want you so bad.”
“You know you don’t need an excuse to touch me, right?” you point out, hips swaying as you try to push yourself further into his cock.
“You can touch me as much as you want.” Donghyuck chuckles, slipping his hand down between your bodies to unbutton his pants.
“Mhmm,” the boy hums, licking his lips hungrily as he watches you. He wastes no time in taking his cock out of his boxers, the end of it damp with pre-cum. “I think it’s better if I just show you how much I want you.”
Donghyuck wastes no more time, thumbing the head of his cock as he brings it down and slides the wet tip against your entrance. He looks you in the eyes before pulling back and thrusting in fully, the thickness of his cock nearly making you scream.
“O-Oh my god…” The boy lets out a deep moan, thrusting into you again and again in a quick, steady rhythm. The feeling of his cock sliding inside of you is enough to make you let out a high-pitched whine, hands searching for anything to hold onto as he pounds into you.
You grip onto the sheets, bodies colliding as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. “You’re so tight,” he mumbles, thrusting into you harder. His hips grind against yours, pelvis pressing against your clit and sending pleasure rippling through your body.
“Donghyuck…” You moan out, a fire building in your stomach as he fucks you into the mattress.
“You’re so fucking hot…” The boy breathes out, thrusting into you deeper. His cock slides in and out of you, tongue licking your neck as he pumps into you harder. “I can’t hold back anymore, baby...” he groans, hips jerking against your own as he pants into your neck.
“Fuck don't stop…” Your breathing hitches, shoulders tensing up as he thrusts into you at a quick, steady pace. You feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm, his cock sliding in and out of you.
“Come on, Y/n…” He breathes out, thrusting into you with more force. “Cum for me.” His fingers dig into your thighs, nails scraping at your skin. “C-Come on baby-” His voice tenses, urging you on as his thrusts quicken. “Cum, Y/n.” Your back arches off of the bed as you're sent over the edge, an orgasm tearing through your body.
“Oh my god, Donghyuck….” You moan out, hips bucking up into his as he pumps into you with more force. You feel him twitch inside of you, letting out a deep moan as he fills you up with his cum.
With a groan, Huck pulls out, smiling proudly at the mess he had made of you.
You could feel his cum seeping out of your pussy and down your thighs, an audible gasp leaving your lips as you let your head fall back onto the sheets. Donghyuck pants into your neck, pulling out of you as he wraps his arms around your waist.
"Can't believe all of that was because of that nerd Jisung. Didn't know he bothered you that much babe." You conclude, your boyfriend smirking down at you in return.
As you lay panting on your bed, naked as you stare at the ceiling with your arms spread out against the bed, your phone goes off again, and you're immediately reminded of why you were so irritated in the first place.
#haechan#lee donghyuck#lee haechan#nct haechan#nct haechan smut#haechan smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#kpop smut#kpop boy group smut#boy group smut#nct#nct 127#nct dream#nct u#nct u smut#wayv#haechan fic#lee haechan fic#haechan x reader#nct fanfic#nct smut#ihaechans#dom haechan
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learning languages | lee donghyuck
pairing: lee donghyuck | nct haechan x reader
word count: 18.5k
genre: university au, getting together, smut, fluff, angst
summary: in which you're an exchange student and donghyuck teaches you the essential korean phrases you need, and eventually how to fall in love with him
tag list: @smwhrinthehaze @byungbyungbaek @sundamariis @thiccfullsun @yesohhsehun @haechoshi @najmnluvr @liz-zo @heyitsconysstuff @magicastle @novawon @gaeulswrld
author’s note: I’m so sorry it took so long, but here it is! I imagine conversations with everyone in Korean, except for Mark! 😊 I imagine the conversations with Mark in English. I also have 0 knowledge with the Korean language except from the common phrases every Kpop fan knows lol. So please bare with me and feel free to correct me! ^^ Please also consider tipping me if you want to! NCT Dream is coming to my country this April and I’d love to see them if I could :) TIP ME HERE.
날씨가 추워 (nalssiga chuwo) – the weather is cold
The rain is pouring when you arrive in Incheon.
It’s not as harsh as it is where you come from, but the February breeze still makes you shiver and curse under your breath, and while you’re wallowing and pouting over the fact that your first day in South Korea is not going as well as you wanted, Mark is chirpy—a little too happy for your liking.
Of course, Mark is happy. Your bitterness over the weather is not going to spoil his energy, the exact same one—maybe stronger—he has had over the past couple of weeks, counting down the days he’d be back in Seoul, finally. Mark has told you that it had been over a decade since he last visited South Korea, and the Student Exchange Program from your university had been the best opportunity for him to come back after so long, too long. The stupid smile on his face somehow makes you feel better, especially when he jumps from his seat when he sees his childhood friend walk towards your area.
Renjun is handsome like the picture that Mark sent you a week before your flight to South Korea, but it feels a little unfair that he’s even more attractive in person. His voice sounds like honey and the corner of his eyes crinkle when he smiles as he approaches you and Mark.
They jump into a tight, dramatic hug that makes a few other people in the waiting area look, but the boys don’t care. Mark lifts Renjun up from the ground, it’s almost embarrassing. The sight makes you feel warm. You wonder how Mark feels.
It must be amazing, you think, to finally meet someone you’ve been longing to see. Mark had always expressed his yearning for the place—the people, the friends he always had to leave behind when visiting during summer—and it makes you wonder how it feels like to have friends and family away from you.
Evidently, this is your first time to be away from home. You live (or used to at this point) in a dormitory, a two-minute walk to the campus, a good hour away from home, but you always went home whenever you craved for your mother’s dishes. You’ve never considered living away from home. Sure, you had plans to move out eventually, but not in a different time zone, not in an entirely different culture. Mark, on the other hand, is frequently moving around, dragging his suitcase from place to place, leaving people behind and promising he’d come back when he can.
Born in Canada, Mark had been to more places that you could count, but he has told you many times that nowhere else feels like home, like Seoul. He’s told you many stories of the time his family lived there for a few years before going back to Canada, of his annual visits in the summer, and of his devastation when life had caught up with him that he had to stop visiting when he turned eleven.
You remember his voice, its tone and emotion, when he called you a couple of months ago, informing you of the exchange program that the university’s administration had posted on the students’ corner, and how fucking amazing it would be if you could sign up with him.
“It would be a good addition to your credentials,” he had told you. “It’s not going to be for a long time, a semester at least. And we have the option to stay the whole academic year if we wanted to! Plus, I already know a lot of people there. We’ll be fine!”
“I don’t know, Mark,” you had answered, feigning hesitation, even when you knew deep down that Mark had already convinced you by the tone of his voice when he revealed the news. “I’ve never been that far away from home. Remember when we went camping in ninth grade? I cried. For three whole days. I’m not going to survive a semester. Besides, I know not a single Korean word.”
“Come on, Y/N,” he had begged. “Think about it. You’ll be with me the entire time. If we pass the screening, the program will sign us up for free Hangul lessons—though, let’s be honest, I don’t really need it.”
“Why do you have to bring me anyway?” you had asked out of curiosity.
“Because I know you’ll love it there,” he had answered. “Your obsession with studying culture and languages will be satisfied because there is no better way to learn a culture than experiencing the whole thing with your best friend!”
You remember humming in response, as if you’re thinking deeply about it. Mark sighed on the other line, his words making you laugh and finally agree.
“The chances of Mom letting me go is bigger when I tell her you’re coming with me,” he had admitted. Mark, upon hearing your agreement to his proposal, began listing out the places he would take you. The phone call lasted for three more hours and it had seemed like Mark already had an entire plan in his head before he even asked you if you would go with him.
Passing the program had been easy and so was acquiring your visa. What was truly the pain in the ass, you admit, is learning the damn language. You salute Mark for being able to speak Korean so fluently, but he’s shit at teaching you and you had to rely on the free lessons you had taken every weekend and your favorite language mentor, Lee Minho in Legend of the Blue Sea. Your Korean is awful. Your tongue is a little too short, too stiff, for said language, and the situation almost makes you back out of the entire program and ditch Mark.
But here you are, still shit at Korean, but standing among hustling people and waiting for your best friend to wrap up the moment he’s sharing with his long-time friend. Renjun finally catches your eyes as you awkwardly watch them on the side, your backpack becoming heavier each second you’re standing on the airport tiles. He pulls away from Mark, smiling, beaming towards you and offers a handshake.
“Hwang Renjun,” he introduces. You remember their last names go first here. “Nice to meet you.”
It almost startles you when he speaks English. Mark forgot to mention his friend is fluent, you think.
You tell him your name, voice smaller than it usually is, and express your relief that he speaks English.
“I’m originally not from here either,” he explains. “I’m Chinese. My family had to move here before I could even properly pronounce words for my Dad’s work. Went to an international school, where I met Mark back in second grade.”
So, he’s cute and multilingual. How unfair.
“And I’d love to chat longer,” he says, switching to Korean now, before you can even respond. “But Hyuck is waiting in his car. We could talk on our way to your dormitory. For now, let’s go. Hyuck hates waiting.”
“Hyuck drove? What happened to your car?” Mark asks, helping you with your luggage and pushing the cart himself. Renjun insists to carry your backpack, and he had already gently pulled it from your shoulder before you could refuse.
Mark and Renjun talk about Hyuck, both switching to speaking Korean now, on their way out of the arrival area and it doesn’t take long for them to spot their friend’s car outside. The rain had stopped pouring by the time you’re settling yourselves inside their friend’s car. The second you settle yourself on the leather seat, you sigh in relief. Traveling is a lot more exhausting than you had initially thought.
Renjun sits on the passenger seat, right beside Hyuck, you assume, and Mark settles himself beside you.
“Mark Lee,” Hyuck greets, looking at Mark through the rearview mirror. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”
It takes you a second to understand what he said. It’s only then that you realize you really are in Korea.
“Lee Donghyuck,” Mark responds in the same tone. “You’re real. I’m happy to see you in person and not just through Facetime. I want to hug you.”
“Am I better looking in person?” Hyuck teases. “Hug me when we’re at your dormitory. I’ll even kiss you on the lips if you want to.”
“Disgusting,” Mark grimaces. “By the way—” He turns his attention to you the same time Hyuck begins driving. “This is Y/N.”
Hyuck only smiles, nodding a little to you through the rearview mirror, brushing his brown hair using his fingers to fix it up. Renjun begins to ask how the flight was and Mark replies. All three boys strike up a conversation in Korean and it was all too much, too fast, for you to catch up and understand anything, so you stay quiet on your seat, leaning against the window, and begin to wonder how things will go for the entire spring semester you’ll be spending in this foreign city.
Mark never told you that the drive from Incheon to Seoul is long, so far that you didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep. When you arrive at the dormitory, it’s past six in the afternoon and Mark’s friends ask kindly if you want to go out for dinner. Politely and quite incoherently, you tell them that you’d like to stay. Mark insists on staying home with you and unpacking your belongings, but you urge him to go, spend some time with his friends and walk around. Mark hesitates, but agrees nonetheless, promising he will come back in an hour.
The place the program had picked for you and Mark is not that bad. It’s nothing like home, but it’s not bad. It makes you wonder how Mark does it. You remember not being able to sleep on the first few nights on your dormitory’s bed when you were a freshman. Mark had never told you if he’s had trouble adapting to places he’s been. Maybe you could ask him in the morning.
The exhaustion hits you again upon entering one of the rooms. Room assignment is yet to be decided, but Mark wouldn’t mind if you sleep on one of the beds while he’s out. And so, you sleep.
You don’t remember what you dream of. And Mark wakes you at seven in the morning, reminding you that you had to unpack and go grocery shopping. Momentarily, you forget where you are. It hits you the same way it does in his friend’s car. You’re in a different country. A different language. A different time zone.
It doesn’t feel like home at all even though it’s cold. But you guess you’ll have to make it work. At least until the semester ends.
약속해요 (yagsoghaeyo) – I promise
When Mark told you he knew a lot of people in Seoul, you should’ve known he was bluffing because he literally knew only seven people.
Mark Lee’s friends are warm and loud and somehow you feel out of place when they all decide to hangout where you and Mark are. It’s the first week of the semester, and you have completed all the orientation and tour you need; Mark, on the other hand, is still catching up with everyone.
By everyone, he meant Kevin Moon, a senior who is also Mark’s cousin’s long-distance boyfriend who happens to be studying in SNU too, Hwang Renjun from Natural Sciences, Lee Donghyuck from Music, Lee Jeno and Na Jaemin from Engineering and Architecture, Zhong Chenle from Humanities, and Park Jisung from Business Administration. Which is why every day, for the past five days, you’re at a place called Arcade, with Mark and two or three people from their group.
It turns out Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin were Mark’s friends from childhood, the others are friends by extension.
Huang Renjun, you understand why Mark is closest to him among all. He’s soft all over but sharp in the mouth. Renjun, you learn, likes to talk about life and likes to give people advice when they need it. He’s reserved with other people but is the complete opposite when he’s with his friends.
Lee Jeno is shy. He normally joins the group after his internship at a construction corporation in the outskirts of Seoul, which is why you haven’t really seen him much—only twice. You haven’t had that many conversations with him yet, but he’s kind enough to pass you the ketchup when he sees you staring at it from the end of the table.
Zhong Chenle and Park Jisung are best friends. There’s not a day that you have not seen either without the other, kind of reminds you of how you and Mark are. They join whenever one is available—two peas in a pod.
Na Jaemin is the closest with Lee Donghyuck. You see them talking in their bubble more frequently than the others. Jaemin is mysterious and a little cold—the complete opposite of Lee Donghyuck.
Lee Donghyuck, well, you’ve got a lot to say about him.
It isn’t necessarily an uncomfortable feeling, because Mark’s friends are kind enough to slow down when they talk to you and are quite protective of you, especially when a random stranger bravely comes up to you to introduce themselves. Lee Donghyuck, in particular, who’s as warm as the sun touching your skin at nine in the morning and whose voice is careful and assuring, ensures that you’re never out of place—even when you feel it all the time. From the day the semester started, there hasn’t been a day when Donghyuck isn’t hanging out with you and Mark at Arcade.
Mark normally picks you up from class because thank God your schedules are aligned to each other despite having different majors. The College of Social Sciences is quiet, unlike the building right beside you, College of Music, and Mark usually takes five minutes to find you, because you can’t trust yourself to walk around on your own—at least not yet. But today, Mark asked if you could meet Kevin first because his girlfriend had something for him from Canada.
“Hyungseo!” You hear someone call, making you look up from your phone to see Kevin walking towards you. He stops and turns around, a girl you’ve seen around the college of social sciences once or twice running towards him.
“Don’t forget to bring the laminated cards we need for Friday!” the lady shouts. Kevin gives her a thumbs up and turns back to you.
“Y/N, right?” he asks in English. You nod. He offers a hand. “I’m sorry we haven’t met personally yet. But I’m Kevin.”
“She called you Hyungseo, though,” you trail off, accepting the handshake anyway. “I’ve seen your pictures from Giselle’s phone, so I knew it was you.”
He laughs. “Hyungseo’s my Korean name. You should’ve packed her with you.”
You reach for your bag and hand him the box that’s been sitting in your backpack all day. “Here,” you say. “No plans on visiting sometime soon?”
Kevin sighs. “I wish I could,” he answers. “It’s not as easy as we thought.”
“You guys sound okay though,” you comment. “I mean, Giselle always sounds so happy when she talks about you back home.”
This makes Kevin smile. “Oh, she does?”
“Why would she think of getting you a gift all the way from home if she’s not?” you ask, biting your tongue as soon as the words come out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”
“Let’s talk about this over some soju when you find a dude you want to spend the rest of your life with here,” he jokes. “Thanks for bringing this. You and Mark have been so busy; he’s been declining all my invitations to hangout.”
You sigh, “Yeah. It’s only the first week and there are lot of things we had to do. I’ll ask him if we can hang out on the weekend?”
Kevin agrees and hands his phone to you, asking to put your number so he could call you. You do and tell him you’re grateful you could talk to someone in English aside from Mark and bid him goodbye when he leaves. You shoot Mark a text, telling him you’ll be waiting for him and that Kevin’s dropped by to get his gift from Giselle.
Hence, you wait outside, busying yourself with your phone, trying to avoid any interaction as much as you can, and you don’t notice Donghyuck standing beside you until he taps your shoulder and gives you a warm smile.
“Mark is running late,” he says slowly. “Let’s go to Arcade together.”
You smile at Donghyuck’s attempt to pronounce Arcade how you would and nod at him. He leads the way out of the building, his backpack on one shoulder, and asks you how your classes are so far.
“It’s okay,” you answer because it’s all you can think of. “Thank God my professor in Psychology speaks English.”
Donghyuck hums. “It must be difficult for you.”
“It is,” you confess.
Among everyone you have met so far, Donghyuck gives you the feeling of comfort; you’re not exactly the most outgoing person nor the least—you were in between. You were okay with that. And you were okay that Donghyuck is okay with that, too. He doesn’t push you to speak more (probably because he knows you most likely do not know how to say whatever you had in mind), but can be very persuasive when there’s a hint that you’re relaxed.
Lee Donghyuck is bold and charming and amiable like nobody you’ve ever known. Normally, or at least with how you’re used to, people are a little more reserved around people they just met. And culturally speaking, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to be so forward and already so comfortable hanging out with you, what more with having conversations like this.
“Don’t worry, though,” he assures. “You’ll be fine. You’re here for about six months, anyway. I promise it’ll be the best six months of your college years.”
He’s also bright like this—optimistic and kind and assuring. You’re glad Mark is friends with people like him, with Donghyuck.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you try to say, a phrase Mark taught you the other night. “Did I say that right?”
Donghyuck giggles, stopping and reaching up to ruffle your hair. “You’re absolutely adorable.”
“That, I am,” you joke back, more comfortable around him now.
“I promise,” he says. “It’ll be so good; you wouldn’t want to go back to Canada.”
한국말 잘 못해요 (hangugmal jal moshaeyo) – I don’t speak Korean well | 죽을래 (jug-eullae) – Do you want to die?
Donghyuck turns out to be a better teacher than Lee Minho and Mark Lee combined. He gifts you a small, pocket-friendly notebook, asking you to keep it for the rest of your stay, notably commenting that the material’s size will allow you to bring it everywhere you go. Hence, the tiny, brown faux leather notebook is safely tucked between your necessities inside your bag.
The first sentence he teaches you turns out to be the most essential: I don’t speak Korean well.
Donghyuck takes you to a café called 7 Days, an entirely different vibe compared to Arcade. You don’t question Donghyuck when he puts an arm on your shoulder as you walk together inside the café, but he asks you right away when he must have felt you stiffen from the touch: “Is this okay?”
“Yes,” you answer quietly.
Donghyuck smiles warmly at you. “Here, have a look around and I’ll get you something to drink before we decide what we want to eat. I have the perfect drink for you!”
He goes before you could say anything. You look and realize that the café is not so bad. Its aesthetic is the complete opposite of what Arcade’s going for—cozy, serene, almost like a good place to study or sleep in, whatever you need to survive the day—and the Biscoff latte is bomb, you don’t think you can drink latte differently now.
Conversations with Donghyuck could, well, unfortunately, go only where your limit is. He’s fun and likes to tell a lot of stories, but it’s always interrupted with you asking what a word means and him pulling up his phone and have his translation app say it for you. He makes jokes that you regrettably do not understand, but Donghyuck doesn’t take it to the heart and only says: “By the end of the term, you’ll be saying these jokes to Mark Lee.”
Donghyuck excuses himself to go to the toilet about an hour later and allows you a few minutes by yourself, which you happily spend taking pictures of the interior of the café. You sigh when you realize you didn’t take a picture of the Biscoff latte when it was full and pretty. Someone taps you on the shoulder, and it could only be Donghyuck, so you turn with a smile.
“I forgot to take a picture of the drink—Oh.” It’s not Donghyuck. “I’m sorry, how can I help you?” you ask politely.
The man towers over you and he smiles warmly. Your cheeks flush when he does, because you probably mispronounce each syllable from that sentence. “I’m Sanha.”
You bow courteously, still have 0 idea why the man is talking to you.
“I don’t see you around often,” he says. “And I’m here, like, almost all the time unless I have a class. My dad owns the place. How do you like it so far?”
“It’s… okay,” you say. Sanha chuckles, and your face is hot you probably look like a red potato now. “I mean, not just okay, I just can’t find the words to—”
He takes Donghyuck’s seat. “I can teach you,” he offers. “We can meet up here, and—”
Donghyuck calls your name, voice firm and monotonous like never before. “It’s getting late. Mark texted me to take you home early because Chenle’s making dinner at your place.”
You look at Sanha apologetically, still unable to reply properly so you only say, “I’m sorry.”
Donghyuck doesn’t give you the chance to say anything more because he’s already helping you out of your seat, turning you around so you could start walking towards the door, pushing you until you’re out of the café.
You hear him sigh as you walk away from the café, arm around your shoulder like how you entered the place.
“Y/N, my sweet pea,” he softly says. “Please don’t to talk strangers.”
You shrug, “It’s not like I could just ignore him when he was already taking you space.”
He scoffs. “When strangers start talking to you and being all brave and upfront, you tell them: I don’t speak Korean well. Then just start hitting them with English words and exaggerate your accent. That’s how Mark Lee tries to avoid conversations with girls sometimes because he’s a loser and women make him nervous.”
“I don’t speak Korean well,” you repeat, slowly pronouncing each syllable.
“Where’s the notebook I asked you to bring everywhere?” Donghyuck asks. “Write that down.”
You nod and tell him you’d do it later. Donghyuck leads the way towards the stop just in time for the bus that’s about to leave. You and him hop in, taking the seats in the back, giggling when Donghyuck almost topples over as soon as the bus starts to move. He lets you sit by the window and starts telling you about how his sister always fights him to get the window seat and he’s never won so he naturally just gives people the said seat.
You’re nearby the next stop when you ask him: “Donghyuck, what if I tell people I don’t speak Korean well and they wouldn’t stop bothering me?”
Donghyuck looks nice in his brown, fluffy jacket, face bare, his eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He looks even nice whenever he smiles like this.
“Y/N, do you know how cute you are?” An answer you don’t expect. “You’re so cute when you ask questions like this. I want to put you in my pocket.”
“Donghyuck,” you sigh, expecting a serious answer.
He reaches up to pat your head. “You won’t have to worry because we won’t let you be on your own unless you ask us to stay away. Especially me. Not me. I’ll make sure to take care of you and Mark while the two of you are here.”
You nod, still not satisfied with the answer. The Sanha situation awhile ago makes you realize how helpless you’d be if you weren’t with Mark or any of his friends. Donghyuck probably notices your dissatisfaction when he feels like you’re sulking, which you definitely are, because he chuckles and pokes your cheek to get your attention again.
“If it makes you feel better,” he says. “You could always ask them if they want to die.”
“That’s mean!” you gasp.
“Or tell them to fuck off,” he shrugs.
“Donghyuck!”
“What?” he asks. “It’s not like I don’t hear you and Mark say ‘fuck you’ to each other every day.”
You laugh at that. “Saying it in Korean hits different.”
“Right!” Donghyuck agrees. “I’ve been telling people saying fuck you in Korean has more impact than in any other language. I can say the word fuck every day.”
“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” you joke.
Donghyuck coos. “Oh, I’m so proud of you. You’re cracking jokes now.”
The bus halts at your stop, and Donghyuck helps you up by taking your hand the way he’s helping you learn the language. It’s only when you’ve reached the street to the apartment you share with Mark that you realized you’ve been holding hands all the way from the bus stop.
저 알러지 있어요 (jeo alleoji iss-eoyo) – I’m allergic
“Do you not understand what you just did, Mark Lee?” you ask in disbelief.
It’s only a month into your stay in Seoul, and Mark does the dumbest thing ever. Mark Lee comes home with a pet cat.
There were three rules for the spring semester, three very specific and very easy rules: one, to always text each other’s location as soon as you step foot outside of the apartment (which you and him are constantly compliant about; you love Mark Lee for that); two, to never skip a class unless you’re sick (you’re only here until July; Mark decided he’s not wasting a single day in Seoul, even if it means going to classes on time and by schedule without fail); and lastly, don’t keep things you won’t be able to take back home.
Mark had said that these rules are specifically for you because rule number one ensures your safety, rule number ensures you get the real Korean education experience, and rule number three apparently ensures you’re not leaving anything important at the airport when you leave—which now you think is bullshit. The rules are more for him than you, but you love Mark Lee, and it’s not like the cat isn’t cute.
“But, Y/N,” Mark pouts. “She kept on staring at me with these eyes when Renjun was busy comparing brands of dog treats. It was like her eyes were calling me, asking me to take her home!”
The calico cat is a baby; Mark said it’s not even five months old yet. It’s the last from seven siblings, the last one to be adopted (and you think Mark is only telling you this to convince you this is a good idea. She jumps out from Mark’s lap and goes to you, staring at you first before settling herself on your lap.
“She loves you already!” Mark comments.
You sigh. “Mark. You know we can’t take her home, right? We’re leaving in like, five months.”
“Which means I have five months to convince our friends to adopt her while I’m in Canada!” he answers enthusiastically, his eyes almost sparkling with the way he’s talking. “I couldn’t just leave her there. My heart wouldn’t allow me to leave without her!”
“Fine,” you give up. “Don’t cry on me on the plane back home when we leave her.”
Mark chuckles. “I think I should be more worried about you crying on the plane back home.”
Someone knocks on your door before you can ask what he means by that. It’s Mark who stands and welcome the person, and of course, it’s Donghyuck.
It’s Saturday. Saturday means Donghyuck comes and hangs out at your place because he no longer has to work in the university library on the weekends. He’d quit, saying his big mouth isn’t fit for the library, and had asked the school administration to reassign him to another facility. Part of his scholarship is to work at least 16 hours a week in one of the university’s facilities. He’s paid, of course, but Donghyuck says he’s not paid enough to keep his mouth shut for 16 hours a week. The admin asked for a week to figure out where he’d be assigned next, so he had this entire weekend all to himself, which, to how it looks like now, he’d decided to spend with you and Mark.
Mark lets Donghyuck in. The latter’s smile falters when he sees you; he only gives you a curt nod. And it’s not like you’re expecting Donghyuck to cuddle you on the couch, alright? It’s just that, you’ve known each other for a month now, and have hung out together a handful of times—just the two of you—and he called you yesterday telling you he’d come hangout with you and Mark for the weekend, even said something about teaching you to play Apex if you have the energy for it. And it’s not like he’s obligated to come sit beside you as soon as he enters your apartment, but you’re confused when he sits on the single couch far away from you, stance uncomfortable and his face looking like he’d rather be elsewhere.
Mark’s voice fades away when he asks Donghyuck what their plans are, to which Donghyuck answers: “I’m actually just here to say hi. I’m leaving in a bit.”
“No way,” Mark protests.
“Or we could go out?” Donghyuck offers.
“Uh-uh,” Mark refuses. “Y/N has been excited all morning to see you. You’re not going to disappoint her today.”
“I didn’t say anything—” You try to say, but couldn’t translate what you want to say quick enough. “Donghyuck obviously doesn’t want to be here.”
Over the course of a month living in Seoul, you and Donghyuck had grown closer more than anyone. It would be ridiculous to deny Donghyuck’s seemingly unceasing affection towards you, and in the same manner, it would be a lie if you’d say you’re not enjoying all the attention he’s been giving you. Above the flirty and friendly advances he makes (but never crossing the line), Donghyuck has grown to be a good friend. During the first couple of weeks, you would refer to him as Mark’s friend; it’s safe you say you’re friends with him now.
Donghyuck’s decided to pick you up from the college of Social Sciences, convincing Mark that his building is literally next to yours and that a ten-minute walk to Arcade with you is not going to hurt him—Mark’s been walking with you for many years anyway, he would mumble under his breath, close enough for you to hear but distant enough for you to understand what he truly means. Hence, with the growing friendship you have with him, you wonder what you had done this time.
“It’s not like that,” Donghyuck answers the question you had in mind, both hands raised in defense. You raise an eyebrow. “That.”
Donghyuck points at your lap, Mark’s unnamed cat sleeping soundly now. Oh.
“I’m allergic,” he explains. “I can’t be around one within like a five-meter radius otherwise, I would, like, you know, die.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Mark comments. “Are you really?”
“Yeah,” Donghyuck confirms. “The allergens are getting to me. My throat is starting to close up. I have to leave now.”
This startles you and Mark, the latter quickly taking the calico cat from your lap and quickly taking it to his room. You reckon the cat’s allergens are all over you so you sit as far away as you can from Donghyuck.
“It’s fine,” he assures, but he already looks like he’s choking. “It’s not that serious. They usually just give me allergic rashes and kind of triggers my asthma. So, we’re good.”
“But you have a dog!” you remark. “You never told me you’re allergic to cats!”
He chuckles, “Well, you learn something every day.”
“There are some anti-histamine tablets from the cupboard,” you point out, still seated where you are. “I probably have allergens on my hands; please go get yourself one.”
Donghyuck does what he’s told, taking one and opening the fridge to get himself a bottle of water. You tell him you’re changing your clothes and ask him to wait up, offering to go out and have a meal with him instead.
Mark knocks on your door a couple of minutes later, finding you dressed up, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Donghyuck said he’d wait outside. You look nice.”
“I know I look nice,” you say as you go back to your vanity to throw whatever you’d need for the day in your small dumpling bag, including a box of Benadryl. “You’re not coming with us because you have cat all over you.”
Mark chuckles, leaning against the doorframe. “Donghyuck literally told me the same thing. He’s growing on you,”
You only hum in response, checking your bag for the last time before walking towards the door where Mark Lee is still leaning on, the same smirk playing on his lips still plastered.
“What?” you ask.
Mark doesn’t say anything, but he raises and shows you his right hand, sticking three fingers up.
먹었습니다 (meog-eossseubnida) - The meal was good.
Seoul National University’s library is as quiet as it can be; it’s almost scary how the only sounds you’d only hear are the faint sounds of pages being flipped and pens gliding on notepads, and the eerie echoes of the tension coming from students who are either cramming on an assignment or jumping from one subject to another in hopes of getting everything they read retained in their head.
Donghyuck used to tell you this is the exact reason why he didn’t like working at the library. It’s too quiet but too loud at the same time. You chuckle at the memory of him telling you anecdotes of his short-lived employment in the library and wonder how different it is being the soccer team’s laundry guy. He’s probably pouting all the way from the beginning of his shift until the end.
“Here,” Jung Sungchan disrupts your thoughts, keeping his voice as quiet as possible. “I found these, maybe it could help bridge the gap we’re struggling on.”
You and Sungchan are paired up for a two-week long assignment for one of your major subjects. The objective was to present a summarized and substantial report on the welfare state, and you think Sungchan must have tripped on all the bad luck in his life to have been paired up with someone who couldn’t speak Korean that well, because, well, the books they had are mostly in Korean. If speaking and understanding Korean is a struggle for you, reading the damn language is hell.
“This is a good thing,” Sungchan assures. “There are resources online that are mostly in English. We can combine everything we find and construct the report from there!”
You nod and hand over the book you’re reading before he arrived, explaining that you found a chapter that could be very helpful. The boy fires up his laptop and starts accessing the website your professor had recommended you to use.
Sat side by side, you and Sungchan study in silence, except for when he asks you to read an article for him and explain what it means. The session lasts for hours, thank God you and him didn’t have classes for the rest of the day, and within those hours of studying with Sungchan, you can’t help but notice the looks you were getting anytime someone passes by the two of you.
It’s no secret that Jung Sungchan is probably one of the most attractive men in the university. He’s tall and has skin that’s as clear as a day in summer, smile that could swoon a lot of people off their feet, broad shoulders that’s probably carrying the entire hockey team for this year’s season—and yes, it doesn’t help the fact that Jung Sungchan is the most popular jock at the moment, apparently for hard carrying the team to win last year’s trophy, ending Seoul National University’s 10-year drought and awakening the school’s love for sports back. And you think it’s quite unfair that people like him exist. Because you would expect that he’s an asshole who doesn’t care about his grades because he’s essentially SNU’s hero at the moment, but he’s not. Jung Sungchan, you learn, takes his degree in Social Sciences very seriously.
And it’s evident with the way his eyebrows are furrowed as he reads the tenth book he found from the shelves.
“I think this part makes more sense now,” he points out, leaning closer so he could show you the article he’s reading. “In residual regimes, welfare-seeking units are primarily family and market. On the other hand, in the institutional welfare regime, the function of providing welfare belongs directly to the state.”
“But countries with different social conditions and lifestyles should have differed in terms of welfare states,” you argue. “We have to consider that the development of industrialization and production growth could be very different from one country to another.”
Sungchan hums. “Good point. Perhaps we can find more of that from Wilensky and Lebaux’s work. Do you have the book over there?”
You nod and hand him the book. Just as Sungchan flips the book open, Mark occupies the seat across you.
“We’ve been calling you,” Mark whispers to you, then turning to look at Sungchan. “Hey, man. Mark. Y/N’s best friend.”
Sungchan gives him a polite nod before going back to the book. You raise an eyebrow at Mark and slip your phone from the pocket of your backpack and find all the missed calls from him, Renjun, and Donghyuck.
“My phone’s been on silent for like, I don’t know, four hours,” you tell him, slipping your phone back to your back. “And I texted you I’d be at the library.”
“Yeah, like four hours ago,” he answers. “I didn’t think you’d really stay here for four hours. Anyway—” Mark pulls out a lunch bag and slides it across the table. “Donghyuck made this for you. He figured you’d be hungry.”
It’s only then that it hit you. The last meal you had was that bagel you had for breakfast on the way to school, which you had seven or eight hours ago.
“My sweet Donghyuckie,” you coo, thankful for his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Mark. Sungchan and I will share because we’ll be here until we finish at least the structure of the report.”
“It’s getting late though,” Mark points out.
Sungchan clears his throat. “I can drive you home.”
“Great!” Mark exclaims, which earns him multiple shushes from the other students studying. “Sorry. Great!” he says again, in a whisper this time.
Mark bids goodbye to you and offers a handshake to Sungchan, telling him he’ll see him often in the next two weeks or for as long as you and him are paired-up on your major subjects. Sungchan gives him one last assurance you’ll be home safe.
You ask Sungchan to take a break and open the lunch bag. Inside it are two bento boxes full of food, too much for one person, and you don’t take another minute to wait. Sungchan must have been hungry too, because he doesn’t refuse when you offer the other half of your meal to him.
You’re not really sure how much longer you and Sungchan stay in the library, but as soon as you’ve finalized the structure of the report and have agreed on assigned topics, he suggests that you and him go home and meet up again on Friday so you can start assembling the presentation. And as promised, Sungchan drives you home, glad when he realized your apartment is only ten minutes away from his.
It’s already ten in the evening when you reach home. Mark’s probably already sleeping, you think when you don’t see any light peaking from smallest of the small space between his door and the floor. It’s late anyway, and you don’t really have much energy to tell him about your day like you always do. In fact, you don’t even have the energy to shower anymore, and because you don’t like sleeping on your bed with your outside clothes, you opt to sleep on the couch tonight.
The last thing you do is shoot Donghyuck a text message: “The meal was good.”
삼각관계 (sam-gak-kwan-gae) – love triangle
Jung Sungchan invites you watch to one of his preliminary games the day after you completed the report with him. Mark teasingly tells you that you have boys wrapped around your finger not even two months living in Seoul. You deny the claims, of course, because Sungchan is nothing but a good friend and you don’t see him as anything more.
Donghyuck is the first person you think of when Sungchan gives you two spare tickets for the game, and you like to think that it’s only because you don’t want Mark teasing you and accusing you of romance all afternoon, and also because Donghyuck has a car and Mark is a shit navigator so you can’t trust him to commute with you from the university to the indoor arena where the game is being held.
SNU’s team wins, of course, and you proudly cheer for Sungchan, which earns you a side eye from Donghyuck. You shrug it off and pretend that you didn’t see.
“Can we go now?” Donghyuck asks, bored, when people start leaving the arena.
You shake your head. “Sungchan asked me to wait for him after the game.”
“You know that barbecue place I told you we’d go to?” Donghyuck reminds. “We can go there—“
Your phone rings. It’s Sungchan. Donghyuck sighs.
“Congratulations, nerd!” is the first thing you tell him. Sungchan thanks you, laughing from the other end of the call, and apologizes that he can no longer meet you because the team’s been hogging him the second they won the round.
“It’s fine,” you assure. “I’m with Donghyuck, anyway. I’ll see you at school?”
“No, no,” Sungchan answers. “There’s a small celebration party at Shotaro’s house. It’s a twenty to thirty-minute drive from your apartment. I’ll send you the location. Go there.”
Sungchan hangs up, and not even a second later, you receive a text from him, a location pinned on the message. You show the message and pout at Donghyuck, and he’s looking at you all bored, rolling his eyes, before nodding and taking your hand so you and him could leave the arena.
The drive to the place takes about an hour from the arena, and you spend it singing along to Michael Jackson’s songs.
“You have a really nice voice,” you comment. Donghyuck laughs.
“Baby,” he says. “I wouldn’t be pursuing a career in music if I had a shitty voice.”
The nickname gives you a flush, and you could only hope Donghyuck wouldn’t notice.
Almost two months into meeting Lee Donghyuck, you find yourself unable to keep your heartbeat down whenever he does things like this—calling you nicknames, randomly showing up in places where you are just to say hi, holding your hand, texting and calling you every day, spending his weekends and times off with you, and doing simple and domestic things for you—and your heart tells you it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with a whirlwind romance in Seoul. Donghyuck doesn’t ever hesitate, and the fact that you’re holding back means you really like him. But the rational part of you says it’s not really a good idea to be in a situationship with someone who will most likely forget you as soon as you go back to Canada, and you can’t afford a heartache from miles away. Besides, Donghyuck probably isn’t that serious with whatever that’s going on.
Rumors say (by rumors, you mean Chenle and Jisung) that Donghyuck is the type of guy who dates one girl after another. Because he’s bold and charming and amiable and likes to expand his choices, and he finds that there’s nothing wrong with dating as long as he doesn’t date multiple women at the same time. You haven’t really seen him out on a date since you had met him. Rumor (Chenle) says that he’s been single since fall of last year and had committed to stay single this year because of the messy breakup and also because he’s on his last year of college, he’d need to focus on stepping up his game if he wants entertainment companies to fight over him as soon as he starts looking for agencies after graduation. Another rumor (Jisung) says he’s rejected many women who have tried to sleep with him since news broke that Lee Donghyuck is newly single. The rumor says he’s as popular as Jung Sungchan when it comes to women, which, if you’re being honest, gives you some kind of pedestal to walk hand-in-hand with him in the university grounds. You realize now that you get the same look from women when you’re with Donghyuck like the stares you got whenever you and Sungchan are stuck in the library for hours of studying.
The only difference is that, well, you like that people stare at you with a hint of jealousy whenever you’re with Donghyuck.
“Why haven’t you invited me to your gigs?” you ask before you could even think about it. “Sungchan’s only been friends with me for like three weeks and he already got me tickets to his game. You, on the other hand…”
The car halts to a slow stop, Donghyuck’s phone telling you that you’ve arrived at your location. Donghyuck doesn’t switch off the engine though. He chuckles licking his lips, then poking his tongue on his cheeks, fucking with your heart and hormones in the process. He keeps his hand on the steering wheel and turns to look at you, eyes hazed in attraction like he’s pulling you in.
“Baby,” he says in a whisper almost. “I don’t like love triangles.”
“Love… triangles?” you repeat.
“Love triangles,” he says in English. “I fucking hate it. And we’re not about to go through that trope in our love story here. So, let me make it clear before we go inside and before you even think about sticking to Sungchan all night.”
You gulp.
“There’s no Sungchan in the equation,” he states like a command and you find yourself nodding, agreeing. “It’s only you and me. Tonight, there will be a lot of people and none of them will be in the equation. Tonight, you’re sticking with me and we’ll talk about this tomorrow. Have fun with me and see if you want to take this to another level, because if you ask me, I’ve been dying to fucking kiss you since the semester began.”
This territory is new, and this Donghyuck is new, too. He’s always been affectionate and he’s never held back, but this new level of honesty is astonishing. Damn attractive if you’re being honest.
“Come here,” he says, ridding himself from his seatbelt. You do the same, leaning closer to him. Donghyuck holds your cheeks with both hands, smiling down at you before leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m not giving you mixed signals. This is me giving you a clear, direct sign that I like you and I like what we have, but I’d love to take another step. I’ve been thinking about it, and I don’t really want someone to enter the equation while I’m trying to woo you.”
You giggle. “You already successfully wooed the romance out of me the second you started holding my hand, Lee Donghyuck. And no, there won’t be love triangles.”
Donghyuck’s honesty fires up some courage in you, and you like the feeling of watching him falter when you lean in, hand on the back of his neck, and kiss him for the first time. The man melts in your kiss and in your touch, but doesn’t wait for another heartbeat to kiss you back. And despite of the bottled-up and eagerness from both sides, the first kiss is soft the first time, featherlike and sweet. His lips are even softer than they look and his lips already look plump as it is, and when Donghyuck licks your lips and invites himself in, God, he makes sure you taste the sweetness from his mouth and in a minute you’re addicted and you kiss and kiss and kiss, lips locking, tongue gliding, breaths gasping.
It’s him who pulls away, leaving you with dazed eyes wanting, wanting, wanting more.
Donghyuck gives you one last kiss on the forehead. “Let’s go.”
이렇게? (ireoke) – Like this?
You don’t end up seeing Sungchan at all in the party, and you don’t mind because Donghyuck keeps you glued to his side. The party is fun, but you and Donghyuck decide not to drink a single drop of alcohol. To him, it’s because he has to drive. To you, it’s because you want to be entirely sober to remember whatever happens tonight.
Donghyuck makes out with you in the corner of the living room where people are crumpled, and you like that he doesn’t care that people see. He holds you by the waist and on your neck, and you get it now. You get why women are lining up to sleep with Donghyuck, because if he can kiss like this, what else can he do with his mouth?
You shoot a message to Sungchan with a selfie of you and Donghyuck, thanking him for inviting you to the party and telling him you’ll see him on your next class together (Donghyucks suggests you send Sungchan a picture of you and him making out.) and prompt to leave. Donghyuck says goodbye to a few people he knew, holding you by the waist all the way from the house to where his car is parked.
Donghyuck drives you to his apartment and tells you he’s told Mark you’d be sleeping at his place tonight. The drive itself was intense enough and Donghyuck’s doing an amazing job keeping his cool while you’re practically sweating from the passenger’s seat.
You don’t even get a good look at his apartment when you arrive, because Donghyuck’s already kissing you as he rids himself of his jacket. Donghyuck doesn’t kiss you softly this time; he kisses you like he’s leaving a mark on your mouth, almost like he wants to bruise his presence inside you. He helps you get slip out of your jacket, pulling away quickly to kick his shoes off, before carrying you bridal style and bringing you to his room, kicking the door behind.
Despite the roughness of his kisses, he puts you to bed gently, ridding himself of his shirt and kneeling on the floor so he could help you out of your socks. He leans up once he’s done, one hand on your jaw to pull you down for another kiss, the other caressing your thigh.
“Please tell me this is okay,” he whispers. You nod. “I need your words, baby.”
“Yes, Donghyuck,” you answer, breathless when he starts kissing your neck. “This is okay. Please touch me.”
Donghyuck pushes you a little so half of your body is lying on his bed, your feet flat on his carpeted floor, tugging the loops of your jeans, urging you to lift your hips so he can rid you out of the material. He pulls you back up to take your shirt off from your torso, then he’s helping you back up from the edge of the bed towards the headboard as he crawls on top of you.
“Donghyuck,” you gasp when he goes back to kissing you. You realize that Donghyuck like kissing with the way he’s using his mouth to imprint his presence in you, his tongue licking everywhere it can reach inside your mouth, and he tastes like mint and the soda he had at the party, and he’s everything that you want. “Touch me, please.”
“Like this?” Donghyuck reaches down to rub your clit through the material of your underwear. He rubs slow, teasingly, and kisses you on the mouth when you groan. He dips his head lower and kisses your neck; he bites and nips and sucks and you’re sure it’s leaving a mark you’d have to conceal the next day. “Want me to touch you like this, baby?”
A moan elicits from your throat, and Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. He slips his warm hand between your skin and your underwear, really touching you, rubbing your clit gently, his digits dragging itself on your slit slowly, gathering your wetness then going back to rub your clit again, more roughly with the pool of wetness his fingers have now.
“Like this?” he asks again, pushing a finger inside when he finds your hole, urging another moan from your lips.
“Oh my God, Donghyuck,” you gasp when he fingers you gently, your wetness making a sound when he adds another finger. Donghyuck takes his time, biting his lips as he watches you writhe underneath his touch.
“Pull your bra down,” he breathes out, and you do. When your breasts are out on the open, Donghyuck doesn’t waste time and locks lips with your nipple, sucking and licking as he fingers the sanity out of you. He alternates from fingering you with two digits and rubbing you using his thumb, and you’re all putty and messy under him, and you want more, more, more, more.
“Baby, please fuck me,” you beg. “Please, Donghyuck. Please fuck me”
Donghyuck hushes you. “I will, baby. I’ll fuck you so well, you’ll come running back to me tomorrow and the day after, and the day after.”
But he doesn’t. He pulls his fingers out, hold you by your jaw so you could lock eyes while he licks the proof of your attraction to him from his fingers, sucking and showing you just how well he could use his tongue. He doesn’t fuck you get but he rids you of the last garments from your body and does the fucking impossible.
Donghyuck eats you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. He swirls his tongue on your clit as he pushes his digits back in your hole, fingering you like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and he’s got you chanting his name like a prayer when his tongue laps your sex, even more when he replaces his fingers with his tongue. You’re writhing and screaming and Donghyuck’s holding your legs apart while he pleasures you with his mouth and hands.
You don’t want to cum yet, but Donghyuck’s so, so good, and it looks like he’s not stopping anytime soon. He tongues you back to your clit and fingers you with three digits, fast and rough.
“Donghyuck, I’m going to—” You see white and stars and you stay still when Donghyuck continues fingering you, moving all three fingers in an upward motion, reaching where you want him the most, mouth sucking your clit as you ride the first orgasm you’ve had in months.
Donghyuck lets you have your moment when it’s done, taking the time to lick the slick wetness from his fingers down to his wrist, kneeling between your legs. You push yourself up so that you’re sitting with your legs wide open, your palms flat on his sheets, head tilted for a kiss. Donghyuck leans over and kisses you again, and you never thought you’d like tasting yourself in his tongue. You guess everything tastes sweeter when it’s in Donghyuck’s mouth.
“Off, please,” you murmur, pulling the loops from his jeans. Donghyuck obeys, removing all pieces of clothing until he’s naked.
You marvel at his beauty, licking your lips when you finally see him bare and clean. His golden skin looks like honey and you want to kiss the fuck out of his collarbones and leave your mark for everyone to see. Your eyes travel from his chest down to the trail from his tummy down to his erect cock. He’s hard and red and you salivate from how big he looks and feel yourself getting even more wet at the thought of him fucking you. Before you know it, you’re reaching out, moving so you could kneel, and taking his hardness in your hand. Donghyuck moans for the first time tonight, and you plan to elicit that sound from him all night.
Stroking him slowly, you feel a rush of satisfaction when Donghyuck pants your name. “Oh my God,” he moans when you bend over, a palm flat on his sheets, your other hand stroking him as you take him to your mouth. He gathers your hair and watches you from above, and you purposely stick your ass up higher when you feel him twitch as you take more of his cock into your mouth. When you’re about halfway, you stroke the rest of what you can’t take and start sucking and licking, and Donghyuck makes the absolute best sound ever. You like his voice when he sings, but you don’t think anything could compare with how he’s whining your name as you suck his dick thoroughly, licking and jerking off whatever your mouth couldn’t fit. A part of you wants to ask Donghyuck to fuck your mouth, bruise your throat with his dick and cum straight down your fucking stomach if he wants to, but that could be arranged next time. This time, with his dick hard and wet from your mouth, you want him to fuck you.
You suck him one last time before you pull away, a string of your saliva following when you look up at Donghyuck. “Now, will you fuck me?”
Donghyuck looks fucked out, eyes dazed with lust, and you want nothing more than for him to ruin you. And Donghyuck doesn’t need to be asked twice.
He crawls back up until you’re lying on your back, legs wide open for him, and kneels between your legs. “Ready and sure?” he asks for the last time, stroking himself.
“Pull out when you cum,” is all you say and Donghyuck goes for it. He gives you a kiss and rests one of his forearms beside your arm, massaging the head of his cock on your opening until he’s stretching you out.
“Fuck,” Donghyuck groans when he feels your tightness. “God damn, Y/N, when was the last time you got fucked?”
“I—I can’t remember,” you say. “None of them were worth remembering.”
“And me?” Donghyuck asks as he pushes deeper until he’s fully stretched you and his pelvis is leaning against your clit. “Will you remember me?”
“Ask me next time,” you breathe out. “I think you’ll have to fuck me every day so I can remember.”
Donghyuck gives you some time, kissing you softly. “When was the last time you fucked anyone?” you ask in return.
“I can’t remember,” he parrots. “None of them were worth remembering. All I know is that this is the first time I’m feeling someone raw.” Then he bottoms out, gives you only half a second before he’s thrusting back and out and back and out and back and out, slowly but surely fucking you well.
Donghyuck fucks you like he means it. His hips snap roughly but makes sure you feel all of him before he thrusts out and he’s everywhere. His tongue is in your mouth, then on your neck, his free hand is caressing one of your breasts, playing with your nipples, and he’s making you feel so, so good and you’re not sure how you go back from here. You’re not sure how you could go on with life knowing how well Donghyuck can fuck you. He’s got you squirming and reaching your second orgasm only minutes into fucking the life out of you.
When you’re close, Donghyuck pushes himself up so that he’s kneeling again, and lifts both your legs, resting your calves on either side of his shoulders, hugging your legs so he can fuck you deeper in this angle. The precision makes you chant his name over and over again and he takes one of his hands down to rub your clit. You try your best to hold back from cumming because the way he’s fucking you now feels so damn good that you want it to last for a long time. He thrusts in and out quickly, his balls hitting the bottom of your ass again and again.
“Come for me, baby,” he says. “Let go.”
So, you do, and Donghyuck keeps on fucking you through it. Donghyuck lets you finish, before he’s pushing the back of your knees down so your thighs are pressed up against your stomach, chasing his own orgasm, and fucks you hard, without rhythm, until he is moaning your name like praise and he’s pulling out so he could release on your stomach. You reach up to caress his cheek as you watch him in awe as he finishes, his face contorted in pleasure, lips wet and eyes closed.
When it’s done, Donghyuck kisses you on the forehead and helps you clean up. He leaves to go to the bathroom for a minute to grab a warm, wet towel, cleaning your stomach, and carries you back to the bathroom with him. The shower is warm, and Donghyuck is gentle and sweet when he cleans you up, giving you kisses when he pats you dry once he’s gotten rid of the shampoo and body wash from your hair and skin. Donghyuck tells you there’s a spare toothbrush on behind the mirror and washes himself as you brush your teeth, naked but warm.
Donghyuck tells you to that the right side of his closet is where you can find the clothes he uses at home and you follow as he finishes cleaning himself up. You take the liberty to take one of his shirts that are still too big for you despite Donghyuck’s frame and slip a pair of cotton shorts.
Donghyuck finds you half-asleep when he’s done showering; he sleeps shirtless, you reckon, because he crawls to bed only in sweatpants. He cuddles you from behind, kissing the clothed shoulder, and the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is him humming a song your mind can’t recognize and a promise that you’ll talk about this the next day.
You wake up to the smell of Spam, an empty space beside yours, and the sound of Donghyuck singing a song from BOL4, which you learned is one of his favorite musicians.
Donghyuck smiles warmly at you when you find him in the kitchen, just about to finish pan-frying the last piece of sliced luncheon meat. He’s still shirtless, but is wearing a cute pink apron, and he gives you a quick kiss on the lips like it’s the most natural thing ever. The second his lips pull away from yours, you reach up and touch where he kissed, lips tingling—in disbelief that what happened last night is real.
“Good morning,” he hums. “Just in time for breakfast.”
“Donghyuck,” you trail off. “Can we talk first?”
Donghyuck nods, offering that you sit on the high stool across the small kitchen island. He sits next to you, turning the seat so that you’re face to face, knees touching. “What do we want to do?” he asks.
“You know I’m leaving in like, four months, right?” you start.
Donghyuck whistles. “We just started and you’re already breaking up with me?”
“No, no,” you say, exhaling. “This… this. I like. You. I like.”
“Baby, construct your sentences properly,” he laughs.
“I like you,” you confess. “And I like this. I like holding your hands. And kissing you. And what we did last night. I’m just worried because—”
“Because you’re leaving,” he finishes for you. “I know, but I also like you a lot. More than you probably think. And I don’t want to miss my chance getting to know you more just because you’re leaving in a few months. I don’t know what you want, but here’s what I want, you let me know if it works for you, if not, then I’ll still be a friend. Who might cry for two weeks straight if you reject me.”
You laugh but urge him to continue.
“I want to date you, and get to know you even more. Your quirks, the things that make you angry, your comfort food, the movies that give you the ick,” he continues. “Your family, how you were raised, if you like Marvel or DC more, what Hogwarts house you belong to, if you like pineapple in pizza or not, whether you pour milk or cereal first, if you ever kissed Mark Lee, if Mark Lee’s ever had a crush on you.”
“What does Mark have—”
“Shh,” he stops. “It’s my turn. Talk later. Anyway, I want this—” he gestures the space between you and him. “And I want you. I want to keep teaching you the language and I know what’s ahead of us is scary, and there’s only two things that could happen: this is going to be either the biggest heartbreak of my life or you’re going to be the greatest love of my life. It’s a fifty-fifty chance, Y/N. Let’s just say I’m willing to risk whatever if it means I have 50% the chances of having you as the greatest love of my life.”
Oh. You don’t realize you’re staring quietly until Donghyuck holds your hand.
“Now tell me,” he asks slowly. “What do you want?”
You don’t hesitate. “I want you, Lee Donghyuck.”
일어날 수 있는 최악의 상황은 무엇입니까? il-eonal su issneun choeag-ui sanghwang-eun mueos-ibnikka? What’s the worst that could happen?
It doesn’t come out as a surprise to anyone when you and Donghyuck arrive at Arcade holding hands, a shy smile playing on your lips, a proud one in Donghyuck’s. You were thankful that there were no teasing remarks coming from your friends—that they were taking this so well, like it’s normal. Like it’s meant to happen anyway. There’s a knowing smirk on Mark’s stupid face, but you love him and you can’t wait to tell him all about how you feel towards Donghyuck. “Okay, so my birthday falls on a weekend,” Jeno announces. “And I think it’s the best time to go to the amusement park. Will you have work then, Renjun-ah?”
“Most likely,” Renjun answers, mouth full of food as he chews on a bite of pizza. “But I can have Yerim cover for me. I’ll just return the favor if she needs me one day.”
“Sweet!” Jeno exclaims. “So, it’s decided then. We’ll go to the amusement park on my birthday.”
As you and Donghyuck play footsie under the table, Mark stands, turning to you. “I’m going to get another milkshake. Come with me?”
You nod, kicking Donghyuck one last time and standing to follow your best friend. Somehow, you feel bad for not saying anything about your growing feelings for Donghyuck, considering that Mark is your best friend in the entire universe and you’re his. If it were him, he would’ve told you the second he caught feelings to anyone. But Mark knows you’re not the kind to admit feelings like this as soon as it starts inflating in your chest; he knows you’re the type to hold it in until you can’t anymore. Having had terrible relationships in the past, Mark has always known that you’re the kind to be careful.
“I didn’t think you’d actually go for it,” Mark says as soon as you and him are out of earshot. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m happy for you. I just didn’t expect this to happen so quickly.”
“Me neither,” you mumble under your breath. “Sorry for not saying anything.”
Mark chuckles. “You didn’t have to. I mean, we all kinda always known this would happen. I just couldn’t imagine how you and Donghyuck sealed it so quickly, like considering how shy and quiet you always were whenever he was around.”
“I was shy and quiet with everyone around,” you remark. “Donghyuck taught me all these slangs and now I can’t stop talking.”
The woman in the counter asks you what she can help you with when you reach her. Mark tells his order alongside some sides Renjun had asked him to get. He leans on the counter, turning back to you. “Anyway.”
“Yeah?”
“I think you’re serious serious.” Mark clears his throat. “Like, I’ve known you for so long and you’ve always been hesitant to do shit. I’ve always been the spontaneous and reckless one between us, and you’re the careful one. The one who thinks everything through before deciding on it—this trip to Seoul included on the long list.”
“Your point is?” you ask, even though you know exactly where this is going.
Mark licks his lips before continuing: “What I’m saying is, you’ve never been this certain so quickly.”
That’s right. Not to be cliché or whatever, but this is normally how it goes for you. Relationships used to be difficult for you—from the pining to the confession to its climax to its end, until the bargaining and acceptance—and you’d never been the type to go through things so quickly and easily. With Donghyuck, you’d somehow done it backwards (and Mark doesn’t need to know that you slept with Donghyuck before you even sealed the damn relationship) but for some reason, you had forgotten how you’re supposed to act around people you like romantically. It scares the shit out of you, the connection between you and Donghyuck, but you’ve always been a firm believer that if it doesn’t scare you, it probably isn’t something worth doing. It feels like jumping from a cliff, to the bottom of the unknown, and it’s new, but it makes your heart pound like never before.
“I don’t want to get ahead and say something that’d make you change your mind somehow, because I also like you and Donghyuck together,” he explains when you only stare at him. “But, as your best friend, with the best intentions only, please don’t go breaking your heart before we leave, yeah?”
You nod, understanding and appreciating Mark’s sentiment. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Mark shrugs. “We won’t really know. Take care, yeah?”
You smile stepping closer to hug Mark. “I love you, you know that, right?” he asks. You nod, your face buried on his chest. “Good. I’ll beat Donghyuck’s ass if he hurts you in anyway.”
“I sure hope you do,” you reply, just in time for the staff to call Mark’s attention, the tray of his order ready for him.
Donghyuck is pouting when you return, asking why you and Mark took too long because the seat beside him is all cold now. You kiss him on the cheek and tell him Mark just told you he’s beating his ass if you’re hurt in anyway.
“Mark can’t hurt a fly,” Donghyuck remarks. “What makes you think he can hurt me, huh?”
Mark scoffs. “You’ll be the first.”
계절과 계절 사이 (gyejeolgwa gyejeol sai) – between seasons
When the seasons start to change—from the rainy, cold spring transition to a warm, sunny summer—you and Donghyuck change, too.
From the euphoric blooming of your relationship—the playful dates, the passionate moments in his bedroom (because ever since Mark adopted that cat, Donghyuck could never stay at your place for longer than an hour), the heart-warming feeling of seeing him waiting for your after your class—to the warm, comfortable attachment stage, you feel like you know Donghyuck in a deeper sense now.
The small notebook he’d given you at the beginning of the term is halfway full, its pages messily scribbled with phrase and sentences you had learned—likewise the memories those words carry—and soon enough you find yourself more comfortable with the language, and eventually with Seoul. You find yourself enjoying, and not in a way that makes you think you’d want to visit again soon.
The journey with Seoul was initially a play to learn the language and its beautiful culture: a detour. A diversion from your plans. A stop while you figure out what you want in life. Your last year in university is supposed to be the year you finally decide what to do next. Visiting Seoul was an opportunity for you to really get to know yourself beyond your comfort zone, to really challenge your capabilities, to learn beyond what your hometown had in store for you.
But these days do not feel like Seoul is a place to visit.
In a way, liberating albeit frightening, you find yourself thinking that perhaps Seoul is a place to build a home in. The home is built from arms that hold you on days when it’s extra cold, your nose red and hands frozen, and its shelter is made from Donghyuck’s warm smile and the assurance of him being there for you. And right now, while you sit closely together at the back of your friend’s car, their obnoxiously loud voices singing to some pop song along the radio, you feel it: home.
Jeno likes the phone case you had customized for him, and he gives you a big, bear hug as soon as he take a peek of what’s inside your present.
“I love you. I literally love you with all my being,” he dramatically says as he squishes you.
“That’s my girlfriend, you idiot,” Donghyuck complains, pulling Jeno’s arms away from you. With the way you three are seated at the back of Renjun’s car, you sitting in between them, it’s uncomfortable and Donghyuck insists on taking part of the little moment you’re having with Jeno.
Jeno whines, “Let me love her. This is the best gift ever!”
Donghyuck ends up puffing air out of his mouth, pouting and leaning back so Jeno could hug you. You’re laughing and Jeno whispers how easily they could make him sulk these days because you’re around.
Mark, who’s sitting on the passenger seat beside Renjun, announces you’ve arrived at the amusement park, just as Jaemin’s car halts to a slow stop behind you.
It’s the first time you’ve ever visited the famous amusement park in Seoul, and Mark looks excited with the way he’s jumping as you line up for the tickets. Donghyuck has his arm around you, taking pictures with his other hand. The rest are chattering, talking about the rides they’d love to try.
The secretly group decides to stick together for the entire day to celebrate Jeno’s day, despite the birthday boy himself telling everyone they can go wherever they want to. You could see how much they really care about one another and they all just hide it in their mean, vile jokes. For example, the man who has his arm wrapped around you likes teasing Jeno like it’s his full-time job, but is hiding a birthday present inside the trunk of Renjun’s car (and would most likely give it before you all head home, act like his best friend’s birthday isn’t that much of a big deal).
Most of the day is spent following Jeno around, whatever ride he wanted to try and your ears ringing because of how loud Donghyuck is screaming. The temperature has gone from freezing cold to warm, the humidity making it a little harder for everybody to move around under the warmth of the sun.
“I never realized how much of a scaredy cat you are, Donghyuckie,” you tease as soon as you walk out of the roller coaster ride. “Not much of a tough guy now, huh?”
Donghyuck whines, “I liked you better when the words you spoke were only yes and no.”
Mark laughs, slapping Donghyuck on the back. “Oh man, that was really good.”
“Yeah?” You rebut. “And I liked you better when you weren’t screaming like a kid.”
Donghyuck smirks, “And I like you better when you’re screaming my name.”
Renjun and Jisung cough in disgust, and Mark just straight up slapped the back of Donghyuck’s head. “You two are disgusting. I can’t believe I live with you, Y/N.”
Donghyuck laughs, turning to you. “It’s pretty hot. Want me to go grab you a can of soda? Ice cold water?”
“Water, please,” you say. Donghyuck nods and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling Chenle with him and walking to the opposite side where a small shop is. In the meantime, the rest of you occupy the benches under a shade, Jeno asking which ride to go next.
Donghyuck and Chenle return in a matter of time, bottles of drinks in their hands. They give everyone their preferred drinks, Donghyuck sitting beside Mark and extending an arm so he could hand you your drink from his side.
“Fucking summer,” Donghyuck curses. “I hate summer.”
Renjun raises an eyebrow. “Suddenly?”
“It’s not even summer yet,” Jaemin points out. “What happened to you? You’ve always been so excited about summer.”
“It’s so hot. I can’t stand this fucking temperature,” Donghyuck mumbles.
Renjun scoffs. “You start planning our summer getaway as early as March.”
“It’s already April and you have nothing yet,” Jisung points out.
“Yeah, what the hell, man. I hate your ridiculous ideas, but we can’t survive summer without you,” Jeno adds, then looks at Mark. “Yo, Mark, what about you? What are you doing this summer?”
You and Mark freeze, looking at each other for a second, before the latter speaks for you both: “We’re, uh, we’re supposed to go home.”
It seems like Jeno didn’t know the weight of his question because he apologizes as soon as he realizes it. The group falls into silence, no one says anything, or perhaps nobody could think of anything to say, not even you or Mark.
With your days in Seoul numbered, you realize now that you haven’t really talked about it—not you and Mark, not you and Donghyuck—and it never really felt real. You had always told yourself you’ll cross the bridge when you get there, and the bridge is nearby.
Donghyuck clears his throat. “The sun’s going to kill me. I think I saw a burger joint that has an air-conditioning system down the corner of that street. Shall we go there?”
Everybody agrees and stand to leave. Donghyuck holds your hand, pulling you close and steals a kiss on your cheek. The gesture makes your heart flutter. Donghyuck is warm, but not in the way the sun is hot right now—in a way that gets you thinking: can this warmth reach Vancouver?
Your skin hurts when the sunlight hits you. You hate summer.
오해 하지마 (ohae hajima) – Don’t misunderstand
Donghyuck had a face that looked like what an artist would draw in a whim—spontaneously—like it was done in a rush, like a portrait from a park done by a street artist, something done with a pencil. Ink stains are harder to wash off, and anyway, figments aren’t mean to last—and he’s almost unrecognizable in this light.
You can’t recognize him on the night of his birthday.
His Mother had gone above and beyond and invited all of their closest relatives and family friends for his 23rd birthday, and it’s also your first time meeting them.
It’s nerve-wracking to say the least, but his Mother smiles at you kindly when she greets you from the entrance of the restaurant they rented for the evening. You could tell his family was wealthy, and it makes sense because Donghyuck got the most bare minimum job he could find, and it’s most likely because he doesn’t need to get one; he probably only got one so he could talk about work, too, just like the rest of his friends.
The birthday party is a surprise and it was Renjun who connected with everyone to make sure they attend here tonight. You had to make up some excuse to Donghyuck when he asked why you can’t join him for dinner with his family tonight and had promised to make it up to him the day after.
You’re sat in the same table as Mark, Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin, a bit far away from Donghyuck’s family’s table, as you wait for the birthday boy, your present sitting on top of the round table. Mark talks about his cat, letting Jaemin watch snippets of his pet from his phone, and Renjun is narrating a story about his “ridiculous and absurd encounter with Liu Yangyang (and you and Jeno can’t pass up the opportunity to tease him about it).
Then, someone comes sit beside Jaemin, the boys gasping when they see her.
Karina is beautiful, and even saying that isn’t enough to describe the woman’s beauty. Soft-spoken and brilliant, Karina naturally allows everyone to gravitate towards her. All, including yourself, are pulled like magnet when she arrived. Jeno introduces you and you allow yourself to throw a quick and inaudible “hello” when she reaches over and asks you how you are.
Donghyuck’s Mother almost screams when she sees Karina, excitement filling up the air as she hugs her and thanks her for attending.
“I wouldn’t miss Hyuckie’s birthday for the world, eommoni,” Karina answers, and before you could ask Renjun how she’s related to Donghyuck, Jisung, who’s seated in another table with Donghyuck’s younger siblings, announces that the birthday man himself has arrived.
Donghyuck enters the hall, surprised and happy when he sees everyone, a dramatic cry leaving his lips as everyone greets him happy birthday. He feigns complaint, whining that he’s no longer eight years old, but hugs his parents anyway.
His parents thank everyone for joining a precious day and celebrating their eldest son’s birthday with them. Donghyuck bows and starts to go around to thank people.
You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he finally reaches your table and he gives you small smile, hugging you quickly before moving on to the next person. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he goes to Karina, lifting her as he hugs her tightly, and thanking her for being able to come. You don’t recognize Donghyuck when his Mother joins the little reunion and he laughs when his Mother jokes about them missing each other too much.
“She’s the one who left me all alone here in Seoul,” Donghyuck pouts. “We wouldn’t have missed each other this much if you had stayed!”
“Don’t be such a drama queen, Hyuckie,” Karina says, rolling her eyes. “You visited me in Tokyo literally six months ago.”
Six months ago, which means, it was right before you arrived in Seoul.
You want to be anywhere else but here, and you don’t want to listen any further, but the scenario runs like a comedy show and the punch line is you.
“You two better decide whatever the hell you want to do with your lives by the end of the year,” Donghyuck’s Mother comments. “I mean, no one’s stopping you from moving to Tokyo, Donghyuck. You and Karina can rekindle whatever light was burnt last year. I’m glad you stayed best of friends despite the long distance. You’ve always made a great couple.”
Your breath hitches like your lungs had just been punch. Donghyuck, it seems, finally remembers you’re watching this unfold. Mark holds you, and bless him because your legs feel like they’re about to give up. You and Donghyuck make eye contact, but you don’t recognize him at all.
“Eomma,” Donghyuck clears his throat. Everything else he’s said come out like a blur, and Mark is just holding you close.
“Don’t misunderstand,” Renjun whispers closely. “They’re just friends.”
You don’t recognize Donghyuck when he watches you leave.
천천히 말씀해 주세요 (chun-chun-hee mal-sseum-heh ju-seh-yo) - Please speak slowly | 집 (jib) - home
Karina turns out to be the one that got away. The one true love. The greatest love. The childhood best friend who’s always been there. The leading woman. She turns out to be the protagonist in Donghyuck’s story.
You learn all of these from Renjun. Even when he refused to say a single word and had begged for you to talk to Donghyuck instead, you learn the truth by asking Mark to ask Renjun.
Donghyuck and Karina. Karina and Donghyuck. Two peas in a pod. A tight knit. Knowing each other like the back of their hands. A buy one, get one kind of deal. Where one is, the other would follow. And everyone and their moms know that it has always been like that, will always be like that.
Donghyuck and Karina, born on the same year, grew up in the same small village in Jeju island. Having been inseparable since, they ended up moving to Seoul together in high school. Donghyuck’s parents were supportive of Donghyuck pursuing a career in music, and they believed that moving to Seoul was the first step for their beloved son to find his spotlight. Karina’s parents, however, couldn’t afford moving alongside the Lee family despite wanting to support their daughter, too. Donghyuck begged his parents to have Karina move in with them so her parents would only worry about paying her tuition and allowances. The Lee family agreed, of course, because Donghyuck and Karina were fifteen, and they were the best team the world has ever known.
Karina is a talented dancer, and with a face like hers, it would be a shame to keep her in a small town in Jeju island. Her moving to Seoul had been the first step to her early success, because as soon as she reached puberty and had gained a butt and a pair of breasts, agencies were scouting her, creepily waiting for her outside of hers and Donghyuck’s high school. She’d declined, of course, with a promise to Donghyuck that they’d go to stardom together, but Donghyuck wanted to study and make music, and he felt as though he needed to go to college for that.
Karina eventually moved to another dormitory when she started training. Donghyuck moved downtown to start college. They were in different places, but they were still inseparable.
Pretty much every day Donghyuck would meet up with Karina when she started training; if not, then he’d be on Facetime with her during the hours when she’s not working. He had brought her to SNU many times, and they had started dating by the time Donghyuck is in his second year. All the other guys know Karina and her place in Donghyuck’s life. Somehow, a bitter part of you feels betrayed that none of them ever mentioned about Donghyuck’s great love, but you can’t really blame them for not saying anything.
They broke up on the latter months of last year because Karina had to move to Tokyo. There was no big fight apparently, just the decision that it’s most likely not going to work because—listen to this; this is the biggest punch line of this comedy show—Donghyuck can’t handle long distance.
You had answered one of Donghyuck’s calls by mistake. He’s mad for some reason, perhaps angry of the fact that you’re ignoring him and he doesn’t have much control like he normally does.
“Y/N, for fuck’s sake, why haven’t you answered?” he had cried out as soon as you answered.
“I was busy,” was all you could come up with. You brain had not been working good enough to translate things to Korean.
“What do you mean you were busy?” he had asked, voice loud and angry. “You literally disappeared on me! On my fucking birthday! And I’m done playing nice and cool because this is unfair. Whatever the fuck you’re doing is unfair you’re not letting me in. If you could just let me explain, things—”
“Please speak slowly.”
“—would be easier for the two of us. Whatever Karina and I had, it’s been over since last year. It’s over way before I met you. I never thought of her, not even for a goddamn second since we got together. I wouldn’t fucking betray you like that—”
“I can’t understand you.”
“—and I can’t believe you don’t trust me enough to let me at least tell you what happened! I never mentioned her because I never even thought about her! My Mother doesn’t know anything! I’ve wanted you to meet my Mother for a long time, but given our situation, a fucking time bomb ticking, I didn’t know if it was too early to go to that stage.”
“Time bomb?” you had asked, repeating the syllables slowly. “What’s that?”
Donghyuck sighed on the other line. “The thing that explodes at a predetermined time.”
“Oh, a time bomb,” you asked in English, chuckling. “That, we are.”
“Huh?”
“We’re a fucking time bomb,” you said, again in English, because if Donghyuck could keep talking in his mother tongue without considering if you’d understand a single word, so could you. “We’re ticking and we’re just waiting for this shit to explode. And I can’t wait and watch myself burn, Donghyuck. I can’t.”
“Please speak slowly,” he pleaded in Korean. You don’t.
“This isn’t going to work,” you responded, still in your mother tongue. “Maybe this is a clear sign for us, Donghyuck. Goodbye.”
Mark finds you crying on floor of your living, your back leaning on the feet of the couch, two weeks after Donghyuck’s birthday.
The first week, you had convinced your friends you were fine and that you just needed time. Donghyuck’s been reaching out to everybody, and Mark, being the best friend he is, lies regarding your whereabouts every time Donghyuck visits.
You don’t know how many calls Donghyuck had tried to make and how many text messages he’d left because you had completely abandoned your phone for the last couple of weeks and only relied on your computer to check any e-mails from your professors.
“I’m sorry,” Mark says, and you feel a rush of relief when he talks to you in English. You’ve had enough of Korean and Korean men these days. “It sucks, man. I don’t even know what to say. I’m so fucking disappointed with Donghyuck.”
“Shouldn’t you be more disappointed with me?” you sniffle. “I should have listened to you. We were moving too fast.”
Mark shakes his head, pulling you closer so that your head is resting on his shoulder. “I couldn’t blame you. Donghyuck’s charming, and I genuinely thought he was in love with you. I mean, I could say is, because I really think he’s sorry about everything.”
“We didn’t even get to properly break up,” you cry. “Our flight back home is in like, two weeks. I was supposed to talk to him and decide what we’d do with our relationship. For his birthday, I made a stupid mixtape that he could keep in his car and a very expensive and fucking cheesy set of touch lamps I found online for whenever he would miss me. And I keep making stupid letters like a fucking idiot so I could leave him with a bunch of poorly constructed letters just so he knows how much I’ll fucking miss him.”
Mark stays silent as you sob your heart out.
“And can you believe I actually thought it’d work?” you say, exasperated. “I’m so fucking sorry to myself. I’m just glad it’s over before I did shit I’d regret later on.””
“Shit like?” Mark asks.
You sigh, sniffling and screaming internally because the tears would stop. “I was already looking into internships here. For my last semester in college. I had already decided to decline the internship they were offering back home—thank God I haven’t sent that e-mail from my drafts—and I’ve found really good companies here. And if I’m lucky, I was thinking of moving here after college.”
Mark clicks his tongue. “All because of Donghyuck?”
“Because he feels like home, Mark,” you reason out. “He’s warm, and I can’t believe I’m admitting this now, but I love him. I love him so fucking much.”
“Oh, Y/N.”
“And we would have been happy. I would’ve done everything I could,” you confess. “And this fucking language barrier will be the death of me, but I would’ve learned more. I’d be an expert by the end of the year. And now, this whole Karina thing made me realize how much more I need to know about him.”
Mark holds you closer as though holding you would make things better. “When we were kids,” he starts. “Whenever I told you stories about how much I miss all the people I had to leave behind whenever we had to move from one country to another, one state to another, you’d always tell me to never build houses out of people.”
You remember. You always admired how Mark could move from one place to another, his suitcase and the ghost of the friendships he made following his trail, and he’s always told you about the loneliness it comes with.
“You used to tell me shelters aren’t supposed to be made of arms wrapped around you on a cold night, or hands that hold you when you’re feeling lonely,” he continues. “And I can’t blame you, because humans are known not to follow their own advice. But I hope you find home in things you’d never lose.”
You nod. “I’m sorry for breaking rule number three.”
“You’ll get over him,” he assures. “If you decide to really end things here, I mean. I’m sure you can get over him. It’s easier to get over people when you don’t see him.”
You nod, “Let’s go home, Mark.”
“Back home?”
You smile. “Yes. Back home.”
갈망 (galmang) - longing
It’s Giselle who picks you up from the airport.
You reunite like old friends, but Giselle really didn’t change that much. Even the weather didn’t change much. The same old. You wish you could say the same to yourself.
The flight to Vancouver was the most painful ten hours of your life, both literally and figuratively. It was hard watching your friends bid you goodbye, and you could tell they were dreading your departure as much as you and Mark were. Mark assures them you and him would save up to visit them again this year and as much as you’d wanted to stay, your student visa would allow you only six months. Mark promises he’d work on a tourist visa or whatever because despite being 100% ethnically Korean, but legally, he can’t just visit whenever he wants.
The pain from your breakup with Donghyuck is nothing compared to seeing Mark leave his friends again. You know how much they mean to him, and by extension, how much they mean to you regardless of what happened before your departure.
The head of student exchange program sends you warm greetings through text, followed by a series of messages from your friends and family. You’re glad Giselle had decided to pick you up from the airport, because you don’t think you’re in a good state to pretend like you’re okay, and Giselle knows.
Of course, she knows.
Giselle’s been your anchor during your last weeks in Seoul. Mark reckons that if anyone would understand you best during this time, it would be Giselle. After all, she’d gone through the same thing.
Like Mark, Giselle moved to Seoul with her parents for a few years. She had a similar experience with Mark, considering that her parents are constantly moving around—from Japan to South Korea then to Vancouver. Giselle was only in Seoul for two years before her parents moved back to Vancouver again, and in between those years she had met Kevin Moon, the love of her life.
They have been dating for almost four years now, two of those years, they dated long distance.
“How’d you make it work?” you had asked Giselle over Facetime once.
“It wasn’t perfect,” she admitted. “We broke up a couple of time because it was really difficult. And neither of us were willing to move for each other. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Kevin and I, we love each other. Truly we do. But I wouldn’t want to plant my entire life in Seoul for him. In the same manner, I don’t want him to move from Seoul to Vancouver for me when we both know for a fact that he’d be more successful in Korea than here. I guess, I don’t know, I don’t have an advice I could give you.”
“I’m not asking for advice,” you denied. “I mean. Donghyuck and I have only been dating for like, two weeks. I wouldn’t think that far at this time.”
Giselle had laughed at the other end of the line. “Let me tell you one thing, though.”
“Mhm.”
“It’s all a matter of choice,” she had said slowly, like she wanted to imprint the words to your brain. “Your heart isn’t made of diamonds. Your lungs aren’t made of steel. Somehow, inevitably, you’d grow tired—tired of timezones and how you never get the timing right, tired of not having someone to hug when you need it, tired of having to compromise—and it’s not an easy game.”
Giselle was smiling when she’d said the rest: “But Kevin is so worth it. I’ll grow tired of the baggage long distance comes with, but I don’t think I could live without him, you know? And it’s exaggerated, I know, and neither of us know what the future holds, but we’re choosing us. We chose to stay.”
It would have been beautiful, you think, if things worked out between you and Donghyuck. You would have written poems and prose in places about how you chose to stay. You would have learned about time zones and the best time to call, could have learned how to purchase the cheapest flight tickets to see each other, would have learned love and compromise together.
But you’re here, back in Vancouver, the voices of Mark and Giselle all blurred out from the backseat, and all you could think of is how much you miss Donghyuck.
예기치 않은 (yegichi anh-eun) - unexpected
The head of the student exchange program asks you to write an article about your experience in Seoul and gives you until the fall semester begins, just in time for the university’s own publishing house to produce this year’s school paper. You’re stuck at two hundred words and a stupid title Mark came up with: “Learning Languages”—and you’re thinking about withdrawing from that spot in the newspaper but Mark keeps calling you a heartbroken loser and you’re not about to let Mark Lee get the last word.
You’re eating cereal and watching an episode of Suits to prepare to write again (yes, a 30-minute preparation time is needed for such task) when someone knocks at your door.
You know how, in movies, the main character would see things in slow motion as soon as the love of their life enters the scene? That’s exactly what happens when you open the door and find Lee Donghyuck standing outside your dorm room, a too-large for his body backpack on one shoulder and his heart upon his sleeve.
미안해 (mianhae) – I’m sorry | 사랑해 (saranghae) – I love you
“I’m sorry,” are the first words that Lee Donghyuck comes up with, and truthfully are the words you needed to hear from him. He says it in his mother tongue and you feel his heart in his voice.
“Mark?” you ask, knowing full well it’s Mark who helped him.
“Yes but no,” he answers. “He said he’d only give me your address but he’s not picking me up or helping me. My flight landed literally six hours ago and I’ve been looking for you since.”
Donghyuck sits across you on the small table you own inside your small room. His backpack is sitting on his feet and his shoulders are slumped. Donghyuck allows himself to look small compared to all the times you were with him.
“Y-you look good,” he comments, eyes glued on you. “I’m glad you’re healthy, at least.”
“You, too,” you mumble. “Tea? Coffee?”
“Water would be fine, please and thank you.” You reach over to hand him a bottle. “And who are you kidding? I look awful.”
He does. He looks exactly what he said he had done to get here. Look for you for six hours after a ten-hour flight from Incheon. Donghyuck downs the bottle of water. Poor guy probably hasn’t eaten.
“Why are you here, Donghyuck?” you ask as soon as he’s done drinking.
Donghyuck clears his throat. “I don’t really know what I want out of this trip.”
You keep your arms crossed over your chest.
“And I’m not about to beg you to take me back,” he continues. “I just wanted to explain. I just want you to know what happened. I can live without you, but I can’t live with you thinking I had betrayed you.”
“Donghyuck, there’s really no need to explain. Renjun has told Mark all I needed to know.”
“No, let me say it please. I spent a fortune to come here, and I’m going to make you listen if it’s the last thing I’d do. After this, I’ll leave. I have a ticket back home tomorrow, and I’ll leave.”
Ridiculous. Who would spend a fortune on a set of roundtrip tickets only to leave a day after? Of course, only Lee Donghyuck.
“Karina and I go way back,” he says. “We’ve known each other since we were kids. And she’s not someone I could just get rid of just because our relationship didn’t work out. We’re better off as friends, and that’s a fact we had come to learn when we tried dating. And it was painful, but I couldn’t lose her just because we didn’t know how to date, how to play boyfriend and girlfriend to each other. That’s the first thing I need you to understand.”
“Like I don’t know that already?” you remark sarcastically.
“Karina is a part of me.” Shit’s painful.
“But now like how you are a part of me.”
Oh.
“She’s my best friend, almost like a sister now, and my parents care about her,” he continues. “It was a mistake that we even tried to date just so we could relate to everyone dating everybody. It almost ruined us, and Karina and I, we can’t afford to lose each other just because of that. The person who I am now, part of it is because of Karina. But Y/N, the person I’m about to become, I want it to be because of you.”
He clears his throat again. You look at the bottle of water he finished drinking because you really can’t look at Donghyuck now. Not when he’s vulnerable and out in the open. Not when he’s exactly the way he was when you fell in love with him.
“And I had plans. For the long run,” he says like a promise. “I had started looking up how to get a tourist visa to Canada and how to get you a tourist visa to Korea. I’ve been saving all my allowances and the money I’ve been earning from work so I could book a ticket to Vancouver for the summer and spend it with you. And I was supposed to tell Mom, but I haven’t had the chance yet—that one I have no excuse for. But the timing was off and she met you before I could tell her. She had no idea and she’s genuinely sorry she made it seem like she wanted me to end up with Karina. If she had known I was already in love with someone else, she wouldn’t have said that in front of you. She would have loved you.”
Donghyuck pauses. You look up to see him wiping his tears from his cheeks. “And I’m sorry that the timing didn’t go well for us, but I promise you I had plans. I just didn’t want to spend the rest of your weeks in Seoul thinking about you being gone as soon as the semester is over. I wanted to seize the moments with you and make you—I wanted to make you feel that I love you.”
Your breath hitches. Donghyuck locks eyes with you.
“I love you. I love you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t,” he confesses, bursting into tears and you do, too. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t try hard enough to make you stay. I’m so sorry that I talked to fast that time I finally got you to answer my call; I should’ve explained more calmly. I’m so sorry that we’re here, in Vancouver, hearts broken. But I love you, and I wish I could say all of these in English if that’s what would make you believe it’s real and it’s true.”
But he doesn’t have to.
“I love you,” you say in your mother tongue before switching to Korean. “I love you. And I know you love me. And I’m so sorry for jumping to conclusions and not trying hard enough. Just like you, I had plans to. For the long run. And I can live without you, too, but I can’t live without you knowing how much I love you.”
Donghyuck giggles through his tears and reaches out both hands to wipe off yours. “Let’s not live without each other.”
It’s him to moves, standing a little, so he could kiss you.
The kiss says everything the language barrier can’t. I love you. I missed you. I’m sorry. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. You are everything I’ve ever wanted.
Donghyuck spends the night tracing your body with his mouth like he’s writing a love song and he needs to taste you first before he could write the first melody. You spend the night underneath Donghyuck’s love, whispering his name like praise, taking, taking, taking everything he’s giving you.
You wake up to arms around you and the love of your life kissing the back of your neck. You and him spend the entire day (or at least, the seven hours he had until he had to take the flight back home) talking about your plans and making a list of thing you have to talk about over the phone, but today, you’re taking him out on a date under the warm, sunny skies of Vancouver.
And you do. You and Donghyuck have the best day ever together. Donghyuck gives you the other pair of the touch lamp you’d given to him as a birthday present—you’d forgotten you left it when you ran off; you were supposed to watch him open it so you could show him how it works—and makes you promise to touch the lamp whenever you missed him. He thanks you for the mixtape and confesses he cries whenever he plays it inside his car. He also gives you your small notebook of learning languages back (because you had dramatically left it to Renjun before you boarded the plane), saying you’d need it again.
Mark refused to come because he wants you and Donghyuck to talk and spend the day creating a game plan to make your relationship work. At the end of the hours you had with him, you don’t come up with a solid game plan.
Because Giselle was right, after all, it all comes down to the choices you make. There was no formula on how a long-distance relationship would work. Neither you nor Donghyuck had survived one, but you knew one thing:
Today, you and Donghyuck choose each other.
It’s only the beginning, it seems.
The sun is out and bright when Donghyuck boards the plane.
It’s a lot warmer than the rest of the year, but you don’t really mind.
#nct fanfiction#haechan smut#haechan fluff#haechan fic#haechan au#haechan scenarios#nct dream#lee haechan#lee donghyuck#donghyuck x reader#donghyuck fix#donghyuck fic#donghyuck smut#donghyuck angst#haechan x reader#faye's moving castle
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two hot
summary: for some reason, your body requires more than one alpha to satiate your needs in heat, leading Mark to seek assistance from his best friend when you unexpectedly start going into heat in public.
pairing: alpha bf!Mark x omega!fem reader x alpha!Haechan
other: alphas Jen & Jis lil voy
genre/trope: porn w/ lil plot, tiny fluff bc i'm soft; omegaverse, fake medical conditions as a plot device; (eventual poly, not jealous love tri)
word count: 8.8k
a/n: so here's that markhyuck omega heat sex threesome idea i mentioned a while ago...per usual, it’s longer than i said why am i the way i am i'm splitting it into two parts w/ pt 2 up soon!
warnings: rough unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), cock warming, manhandling, exhibitionism & extremely public, voyeurism, humiliation, lil dumbification, overstimulation, degradation & praise, spitting, stomach bulge, cum inflation, knotting, oral fixation reader, breeding & creampie kinks; sweet hard dom Mark & hard dom Haechan, super sub reader [ note – heat sex is categorized as dubcon; therefore, read at your own discretion ]
You thought you had more time. You should have had more time.
About an hour into your new Introduction to Astronomy lecture, your waning attention span is fully disrupted by a suspicious wetness you feel between your thighs. You uncross your legs and casually glance down, heart dropping when you discover a small pool of glossy slick in the middle of your lecture hall seat, heralding the start of your heat.
it’s official: life fucking hates you.
Rationally, you’re aware of the fact that you need to formulate a plan but as you shift in your seat, your train of thought is derailed by the sensation sparked between your legs. You clench your jaw and grind your teeth together, forbidding your mouth from vocalizing the shred of gratification you get from squirming in your seat.
Of all the damn days to pair a bodysuit and a pleated mini skirt, this day has got to be the absolute worst. But of course it had to be warm enough today that you felt comfortable showing more skin. In your mind, it made sense to seize the favorable weather before the last remnants of Summer disappeared into a chilly Autumn, but now you’d rather be bundled in three thick layers and sweating buckets than vulnerable in your current attire.
While you arch your back and discreetly grind against the messy chair, the bodysuit stretches, progressively sliding up your abdomen, and bunching at your waist. The damp material tugs on your hood, a second later, your clit is subjected to rough stimulation directly. Intense tingles ripple through your core from the sensitive spot. Even with your lips pressed together, you can’t suppress the tiny high-pitched squeak in your throat.
Renjun angles his laptop towards you, quickly typing out are you okay?
You freeze your body. Giving him a terse nod, you rid yourself of the unwanted attention and resume the lewd activity. It takes a mere 30 seconds for your folds to eat up the narrow strips of material that once covered your intimate parts, giving your slick pussy a wedgie. It’s uncomfortably restrictive, and yet, simultaneously a massive turn on.
You should be more concerned but the torturous pressure feels too good to stop, restraint briefly suspended again in a pleasured daze, chasing the desired pulsating sensation. Your eyes pop out of your head hearing the small metal snap of your bodysuit’s crotch region pop open, exposing your panties underneath and instantly bringing you back to reality.
Jisung ducks his head near your ear. “Hey, what’s that-?”
“What’s what?” you immediately cut him off, worried he heard the same noise.
He hums, pursing his lips. “What’s that smell?”
“uh, well…”
You gulp, so mortified that it’s impossible to meet his eyes, embarrassment warming your cheeks, your heat cranking up the bubbling sensation within you.
This shouldn’t be happening. You’ve documented your heat cycle since the day you started taking suppressants years ago. If you left it up to nature, your heat would be a seasonal affair. Now, thanks to the convenience of modern-day medicine, taking one daily pill significantly lowers your heat cycle frequency to biannually.
It’s always been consistent enough that you could pinpoint the exact 48 hour period in which it would start. In fact, a series of predetermined dates are highlighted on your desk calendar for when you’re supposed to be in heat: over four months from now.
Your scent is detectable in two ways: if someone were to press their nose directly to your scent gland, or the significantly more potent way, through the profuse slick secretion omegas produce in heat.
And given the fact that you’re practically sitting in a puddle of slick at the moment, panic is knocking at your front door with fever. Any alpha in a ten foot radius will soon smell the arousing nectar leaking out of you.
Fortunately, you’re in the last row of a half empty lecture hall. Rather than a dozen alphas, it’s a handful of the closest ones that’ll be raising their noses to get a whiff of the fragrant aroma floating through the air, two of those alphas being your friends.
Jisung sniffs around curiously, even going so far as to lean forward, over where Jeno is sitting directly in front of you.
“Hmm, it’s, like, sweet and fruity. Do you smell it? Like raspberries…or maybe strawberries?”
Renjun stops typing notes on his laptop. “I don’t smell anything.”
Figures; betas like Renjun don’t detect omega scents until they are at the absolute peak of their heat, and even then it wouldn’t be very strong.
“Also, for your information, raspberries and strawberries aren’t berries.”
“Wha- Really!?”
“Yeah. Most fruits that end in ‘berry’ aren’t actually berries, botanically speaking.”
“Um, Renjun?” you try to grab his attention in a hushed voice, failing as a result of Jisung talking over you at the same instant.
Besides your first heat, you’ve always been well prepared. You take preventative measures against potential alphas who may smell you and want to take advantage of a heat-drunk omega.
Your typical protocol entails remaining holed up in your dark room. The mini fridge by your desk is fully stocked with four days worth of food and beverages, the air conditioner is on full blast, curtains and blinds drawn closed. Your door is secured shut with three bolted locks too.
For your past few heats, Mark has locked himself up with you as well. Being an omega, it was of vital importance to find a trustworthy alpha that wouldn’t savagely take advantage of your heat-induced instinctual nature to follow an alpha’s orders. The whole reason you submit to Mark is because you know he would never take things too far. For your past two heats, Mark was knotting you until his exhaustion proved overwhelming, and he physically couldn’t use his big dick any longer. Basically, your alpha can’t go far enough, for some indiscernible reason.
Based on the increasing amount of slick and the new ache in your core, you’d estimate you have less than an hour before your heat will seriously start affecting your senses. There’s a reason you keep track of your heat cycle, and it’s to avoid horrendous situations like this one.
You’re struck with uncertainty and a minor sense of helplessness, facing your worst nightmare alone. At the moment, you don’t have Mark by your side, protecting you from other predatory alphas, ensuring you eat and drink something when you’re too out of it to do so yourself; and most importantly, pleasuring you to take away the pain that comes with your extreme heat cramps.
You need Mark.
Mouth beginning to water, deep in your filthy thoughts, you don’t register the conversation around you. You imagine him taking care of you in this very lecture hall, bent over the sturdy wooden podium at the front of the class.
You’re preoccupied and perplexed, a fraction of you developing a peculiarly strong craving for a knot – any knot. Considering how fast your heat crept up on you in the first place, you have every reason to believe this craving will continue to intensify. You feel ashamed to admit it, but at this rate, you might just find yourself allowing any alpha to knot you.
Jisungs face scrunches up in disbelief, hearing another botanical fun fact. “No way. You’re trying to tell me bananas are berries? I don’t believe you.”
Jeno snorts, barely peering over his shoulder to throw his two cents into the hushed conversation. “Why are you arguing with Renjun? When was the last time you ate a fruit?”
“I don’t know. When was the last time you didn’t fall asleep at 6 am?” Jisung grumbles, not-so-quietly as he intended.
If they weren’t in a classroom setting, Jisung would’ve hidden behind Renjun or grabbed something to shield himself from the other alpha’s wrath. Jeno fully twists his torso around, dawning a toothy grin that spells trouble for the youngest in the near future. He opens his mouth to speak but ultimately falls silent.
The lecture hall’s desks are the type that flip down to hover over half of your lap. With only your right thigh covered, Jeno’s eyes flick down to where you've been looking.
He zeros in on the source of the fruity scent Jisung was referencing. He drops his smile, licking his lips, dark pupils flashing candy apple red. The other two shift their attention to your lap in quick succession.
Initially, Jisung doesn’t see what they do from his position. His curiosity then leads the naive boy to bend his upper body down and inch forward. Finally granted a vantage point to peer between your legs, his face turns a shade that matches the berries he spoke of a minute ago.
“Uh, y/n? Are you, um, in-” Jisung stutters, his bright eyes locked between your parted thighs.
Both alphas stare, mystified by the sight of your drenched panties, the thin white material now see-through and doing nothing to stop you from making a mess in the center of the lecture hall chair. Lifting your head, you see Jeno’s pupils fully dilated, swirling with lust, and you imagine Jisung isn’t too far off, mirroring the older alpha.
You belatedly try to snap your thighs together but Jisung, of all people, latches onto your inner knee and keeps most of your seeping slit on display for them. His fingers digs into your soft skin in an uncharacteristically possessive manner, while Jeno quietly growls.
They’re increasingly aroused hearing a spurt of your slick gush from your core, discovering you to be turned on by your own humiliation. You softly whine, embarrassed beyond all possible belief.
“What happened to decorum, huh?” the beta scolds the younger alphas.
Jisung snaps out of it and rips his hand away so fast it hits his desk. “Ow!”
“Acting like you just presented and never smelled slick before? Ugh. Get a fucking grip, you guys.”
Renjun sets his phone on his desk, angling it towards you to show his screen and you tune out the apology from the frazzled boy on your right. “Hey, so I texted Mark. The good news is he’s on his way.”
You exhale in relief. “Okay. Wait, what’s the bad news?”
Renjun winces, reluctant to kill your newly kindled hope. “Well…he said it’ll probably take him a half hour to get here.”
“A half hour?”
You snap your tongue, loathing today’s dreaded turn of events. You squeeze your eyes shut to fight off the tears threatening to stain your burning cheeks.
“Oh, hold on.” Renjun scans the new message from your boyfriend, rereading it in his head, triple checking the text before delivering the additional details. “He said he’s…sending someone to get you? And they’ll be here in a dozen minutes or so.”
You furrow your brow, confused. “Who?”
“Dunno, he didn't say.” Renjun shoots him another text, asking for the identity of this mystery person he’s referring to.
You stare at his phone intently, beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck and haloing your hairline. Renjun taps the dim screen to keep it from turning off.
As you impatiently wait for an answer, your old nervous habit of picking and biting your nails resurfaces. You peel part of your nail off and fixate on the minor self-inflicted sting for the sake of a distraction from your intimate regions pulsating with arousal, not to mention the graphic, x-rated imagery about how easily you’d bend over for alphas in your vicinity.
Renjun lifts the back of his hand to your feverish forehead, the worry on his face deepening into his soft features. “Don’t take this the wrong way, y/n, but why did you come to class if you were in pre-heat?”
“When I left my apartment this morning, I didn’t fucking feel like I was in pre-heat,” you hiss through clenched teeth.
You ring your head low and swallow your bad temperament as the harsh tone reaches your ears. You cringe, barely recognizing your own voice.
“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated because I don’t know what’s going on. I shouldn’t take it out on you though.”
“No, it’s fine, I get it. You’re stressed out.” Renjun gives you a sympathetic look, equally as confused by your body as you are. “Well this explains why you wore that today.”
“What do you mean?”
Renjun clicks on the weather app to show you the temperature outside. “Because it’s cold today. But if you were really warm, the temperature outside wouldn’t have bothered you.”
“Ugh, oh my god. You’re right,” you reply, mentally slapping your forehead for not actually checking the forecast for today. Simply put, you believed you knew better, based on how warm your room felt when you got out of bed this morning.
You hold your abdomen and apply minimal pressure there, preparing for the onset of pain when your cramps start up, just like the bad habit responsible for the new drop of blood swelling at the tip of your finger.
Jisung is quick to dig into his messy backpack and procure a quick fix for any minor injuries. It’s clear that he’s trying to be as helpful as possible, still feeling terribly guilty for holding your thighs open and preventing you from hiding what was visible to him and Jeno through your thin panties.
You dab the blood with the folded tissue he hands you, and then wrap the blue and green, dinosaur themed band-aid around your finger. “Thank you,” you whisper to Jisung sincerely, touching his arm to express gratitude.
You don’t blame the guilt-ridden alpha too much. After watching your pussy leak slick through the soaked white material, it was only in his nature to want to breed an omega on the verge of going into heat. The baby alpha Jisung you know and love wouldn’t do that.
Renjun lightly taps the back of your hand when you pick the finger next to the freshly bandaged one. He clasps your hands together, preventing you from doing more damage to that hand, at least.
You frown at your hypocritical friend who himself hasn’t managed to kick the same bad habit as you. Nonetheless, you appreciate his comforting action.
“You know, I keep thinking why me? What have I done to deserve this?” You gesture at your thighs with your free hand. “And how am I supposed to last another however many minutes?”
Renjun pauses and sighs. “On second thought, maybe you should go now. It’s way stuffier inside, so it might be a good idea to go splash some water on your face in the bathroom first before whoever Mark sent gets here.”
You hesitate for a second. You're troubled by not only the mess you've made in your seat, but the continual trickle of slick, potentially painting a colorful bullseye on your wet cunt.
Alphas with practiced, keen olfactory systems can track a scent from a mile away, the express purpose to savagely use the needy omega they find simply because your kind is at its most vulnerable in heat.
You always knew that omegas drew the short stick in life, but it was only after you had observed Mark’s rut in person that you officially became envious of alphas. An alpha’s number one priority during rut, above food and shelter and anything in between, is to breed omegas.
They’ll brutally fuck a slick hole for multiple days, repeatedly knotting them until their bun-hungry alpha brain is sure that the omega will deliver them happy, healthy pups.
Nearly every omega and most alphas take suppressants, making the chances of knocking up an omega less than 0.001% if both partners are medicated. Though, regardless of their incredibly slim chances of conceiving, that does not dissuade a stubborn alpha in rut from attempting to produce offspring.
During Mark’s last rut, despite the primal need to dominate and fuck your brains out, oddly enough, his stamina weirdly didn’t match yours.
“Whoever Mark’s sending is supposed to get here any minute, so there’s no real harm in leaving a minute earlier. No one would try anything with you if you’re in a public setting like school,” Renjun assures you and gives your hand one last squeeze.
“Y/n?” Jisung works up the courage to gently tap your arm like you did his, giving you what remains of the travel size tissue packet that’s been in his backpack for nearly three years. “Don’t worry about the chair. We’ll wipe it off when you leave.”
Jeno guiltily turns around again and apologizes like the younger alpha. He then makes a generous offer to save you the trouble of waiting a second longer to leave for good.
“I can drive you home now, if you want, y/n. And, you know, if you feel comfortable enough being alone with another alpha…no pressure. It’s just the least I can do.”
“Um, thank you. I think, uh…”
Fifteen minutes ago, when you had no plan whatsoever and hadn’t been in contact with Mark, you would’ve taken him up on the offer, but Renjun is right. You know that a part of you is really craving a knot. However, you believe you’re lucid enough to handle going to the bathroom by yourself.
You don’t see yourself jumping at the first opportunity to sit on a throbbing alpha cock, bouncing up and down, pathetically begging them to fill you up with an excessive amount of cum, like you did before. Plus, you don’t want to attract even more unwanted attention if two of you were to stand up and walk out in the middle of the lecture.
“I think I’m good, Jeno. It’s just around the corner. I’ll be fine.”
You pick up your bag, tying the varsity jacket that Jeno generously handed to you around your waist. You head for the door, walking at a reasonable speed to not attract more attention than your scent likely has.
Jeno’s jacket conceals most of the slick running down your inner thighs, and you make a mental note to somehow make it up to him later.
You have almost reached the bathroom when, out of nowhere, you’re ambushed by an alpha, pressed face first against the brick wall of the science building.
Whoever it is had the sense to slip his hand in front of your heated forehead to break the blow against the wall and not crack your skull open on impact. Obviously, alphas don’t want a dead omega.
You can’t breed something that’s not breathing.
That’s basic alpha 101.
Your heart rattles in your ribcage, racing a million miles per hour. You wish you were allotted enough time to wipe up your slick before being attacked.
If only you had accepted Jeno’s offer to be safely escorted, then you wouldn’t be pinned to a wall, hands held behind your back by an alpha presumably relying purely on an animalistic desire.
To make matters worse, being dominated so aggressively triggers a surge of arousal from within your inner omega, the yearning for sexual fulfillment intensifying at a rate higher than in your lecture.
On instinct, tremendously touch starved, you grind your hips back, pressing your ass against the half-hard cock hidden in the alpha’s pants.
He leans closer to your ear, pulling the cherry lollipop out of his mouth to whisper in a deep, gravelly voice, “Did somebody miss me?”
You whimper, timidly, and he chuckles.
Something possesses you to tilt your head to the side, submissive and craving a knot so damn badly that you’re willing to bare your vulnerable neck for the alpha.
He hesitates, before nosing at your scent gland, shakily exhaling through his mouth. Presented with such an alluring opportunity, the alpha almost loses his cool, tempted to accept your invitation and take advantage of your omega’s baseline reflex to submit.
Practicing a degree of restraint that very, very few alphas in his unique position possess, he instead places a single soft kiss to the spot he knows is reserved for Mark’s teeth.
Mark…
You break out of your innate trance as lips that don’t belong to your alpha are still pressed to your neck, the gravity kicking in about what it means to allow a stranger to bite and claim you.
You can’t imagine what your life would be like as a double claimed omega, shared by two alphas, belonging to both Mark and the mysterious, possessive person behind you.
You catch him off guard by ripping away. You whip around, snapping your tongue when you finally discover the identity of your attacker.
“Argh, what the fuck, Haechan?”
You lean back against the solid wall, holding a hand over your chest as if your heart is on the brink of bursting through the slats of your ribs.
“Did you have to give me a heart attack? What happened to saying hello, hm?”
He snickers, a melodious, infectious laugh that makes you want to smile as well. This time, with tremendous effort, you hold your ground.
“What’s the fun in that, sweetheart?” he says, sticking the candy back in his mouth.
You wish you could chase away the butterflies in your stomach that are consistently conjured up when his designated pet name for you rolls off his silver tongue. You’ve seen Haechan flirt with countless girls, yet he’s always reserved “sweetheart” and “sweetie” for his favorite omega.
You can’t describe why hearing his pet names excites you, inappropriately so. Perhaps, you like feeling special to him in some way, his sugar-coated sweet tooth reserved for you and you only.
Mark knows all of this.
He would have to be both blind and deaf to not see Haechan’s effect on your body and pick up on the sound of your heart racing. His charming best friend is frustratingly swoon worthy, but Mark had never minded it much. A case can be made that Mark is the jealous type. It’s for this very reason you find it so curious that he allows Haechan to get away with openly flirting with his omega.
“Why are you even-?”
You freeze as he wipes a tear from your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers along the side of your face and down your neck. He wraps his hand behind your neck with his thumb pressing into where your pulse is fluttering rapidly, tucking the lollipop into the side of his cheek to speak.
“Shh, take deep breaths for me, baby. In…out…in…out.”
The alpha’s instruction marginally calms your nerves, your omega instincts compelling you to follow without question. You are obedient and malleable, most especially in heat, for Haechan and your own alpha, of course.
“Good girl.” His praise has you biting your lip, whining softly. “Renjun probably told you but Mark’s on his way. He sent me to take care of you first.”
“Oh,” you reply, dumbly.
You should have suspected that Mark would send him to pick you up. It’s obvious in retrospect. He trusts Haechan with his life; by extension, he would have total faith in his best friend to handle you too.
“Yeah, oh,” he mimics with an annoyingly charming curl of his heart shaped lips.
Haechan basically gets off on annoying people, although his form of teasing you differs from others. Plus, you never fail to give him the reaction he’s searching for, playfully rolling your eyes, quietly snapping your tongue, or throwing some weak comeback in return.
“Are you disappointed to see me, y/n? I know you're Mark’s princess but you’ll just have to settle for me this time.”
“Wow, how noble of you. My hero,” you reply, sarcastically. “Can we go now?”
“By all means, lead the way, sweetheart.”
Right on queue, you roll your eyes, just like he knew you would. You take a few steps in the direction he gestures to before the first heat cramp punctures your core. Luckily, Haechan catches your body as your knees buckle, doubling over in pain.
Haechan clears his throat. “Y/n, you should know that Mark didn’t just send me here to pick you up,” he says cryptically, unpocketing his phone.
He proceeds to play a voicemail Mark left him. You listen with pursed lips, furrowing your brow as you take in your alpha’s words.
You try to concentrate on the message, partially distracted by Haechan’s scent swirling around you, quickly permeating your skin and thoughts.
“Hyuck, you’re the only alpha I completely trust to take care of y/n like that…and by that, you know what I mean. And don’t be surprised if she, like, starts to beg for it. She can be realllly needy, trust me.”
There’s a spike in Haechan’s scent, reminded of his personal mission to hear you beg.
Despite not having kissed him, you can taste him on your lips. His all-encompassing spicy musk intensifies, melting into a subtle syrupy vanilla that clings to your tongue and stirs up a hunger for forbidden fruit. The cherry candy is no match to his natural scent.
“Oh! One more thing. y/n likes it a bit, um, rough when she’s in heat…so just keep that in mind. I’ll be there as soon as possible, dude. 40 minutes tops. Alright, see you then.”
Haechan looks at you, searching for a reaction, but instead, he sees your face contort painfully again.
“Sweetie, look at me.”
You turn your head, now within proximity to count all the pretty moles on his sun-kissed face, like sunflower seeds you’re tempted to taste and swallow by the handful until you’re physically ill.
“Do you want…”
You straighten your back again, a chill running up your spine as Haechan slowly reaches under your skirt. He drags his hand up the inside of your thigh. The tips of his fingers draw through the many lines of slick dripping down your legs.
“…my help?” he finishes in a tone deeper than you knew he could produce.
Your cheeks and ears burn with embarrassment, feeling another mini rush of wetness soak the utterly useless material covering your throbbing core. There’s no denying that you’re incredibly aroused by Haechan. He knows you know he can smell the gush of new slick you involuntarily released.
A strong sexual desire pumps through your veins, driving you up the walls. You’ve always been curious about what it would be like to have the alpha ruin you and use your body like a toy, but you’re not certain how much of that can be attributed to being on the verge of heat. For better or for worse, you decide that that’s a problem for future you to determine, and present you to toss out the window.
Tasting a mere crumb of Haechan’s touch wasn’t enough – you had to swallow him whole, and the only way you could do that is by giving him the pleasure of devouring you first.
“y-yes, please.”
Your answer is so faint that if he were any farther away, he wouldn’t have heard it.
Haechan suppresses a smug smile, pleasantly surprised to get your first “please” this soon after catching up with you.
“That’s what I thought, sweetheart.”
His skilled fingers touch where you want him most, grazing over your clothed pussy. Anticipating some kind of pleasured noise, he holds your body close and pops the lollipop inside your mouth.
He scans your surroundings for a place nearby with any additional smidge of privacy. Locating a possible secluded destination, he steers your weak body in the direction of his choice. Haechan snakes a hand up the front of your skirt again, pressing his thick cock against your ass as you stumble forward.
Imagining how dirty you must look turns you on, the debauchery of grinding on someone in broad daylight while they have your skirt flipped up to rub over your wet panties has your vision blurring momentarily. Modesty is nothing but a vague concept in the far off distance, seconds away from disappearing over the horizon.
The next thing you know, your body is pressed against a cool hard surface, bleary eyed and craving the kind of high only a mind blowing orgasm can earn.
You vaguely recognize you’re behind the science building you came out of before Haechan ambushed you, escaping the bright rays of burning sun that were beating down on you by slinking into the secluded shadows with the golden, silky voiced alpha.
Your skirt rides up as he shoves a knee between your legs. He gets a firm grip on your hips as you grind down against his thigh, soaking the material of his skinny jeans, creating a wet spot in the denim with your slick.
“Wow, would you look at that? Baby made a mess all over me already. I bet you wanted that, huh? Rubbing your slick on me so people know you’re fucking two alphas?”
You remove the lollipop to refute his provocative claim. “I-I’m not fucking two alphas.”
“Ha, maybe…not yet, anyways. But you want to. Isn’t that right, y/n?”
Your mouth goes dry, tongue rough, throat scratchy like sandpaper. You part your lips to argue with him but nothing comes out. Instead, you insert the lollipop again, sucking on the shrinking round candy, a poor attempt at covering up your original intention.
“Exactly…now, let’s see what we’ve got here.”
Haechan places your clammy hands on either side of his shoulders to ensure you won’t lose your balance, then he lowers himself to crouch in front of you.
“Hold.” He lifts up your skirt, giving you the bottom hem so he can get down to business.
Haechan’s fingers dig between your clothed folds, feeling your slick leak onto his hand. The thin material pushes into your entrance in an unsatisfying way and you whine.
He tsks his tongue three times, shaking his head. “Just as I suspected.”
You don’t need a reminder of how wet you are, and yet Haechan still brings his hand up for you to see the wet webbing clinging to the tips of his spread fingers anyways. A small embarrassed noise escapes your mouth.
“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, using his thumb to toy with your clit, “you look so adorable when you’re embarrassed. All rosy-cheeked and messy.”
Haechan slides your panties down your legs and you cooperate by stepping out of them, hands still anchored to his shoulders. He brings them to his face and licks off a great majority of the wetness that seeped out of you, peering into your soul as he does so. Your lips form a slight pout, missing his touch.
“Ha, Mark was right. You are a needy omega,” he teases and pockets your panties like a trophy he’ll proudly keep forever.
“What would Mark say if he saw his precious omega barring her neck for a total stranger?”
You softly moan a bit louder as he curls his fingers just right. Your knees wobble, struggling to stay upright.
The image of the alpha ravaging your body while Mark watches the act unfold, makes it difficult to focus on your surroundings, distracting you from the minor degree of shame in your chest.
You couldn’t care less about your indecent exposure at the moment either – you feel too good to care about anything.
“H-haechan…I want you…want you so fucking bad,” you breathe out, words slightly slurred with the round candy in your mouth.
Haechan’s cock twitches, picturing you in tears, your walls struggling to accommodate him. However, he is aware that behind a school building isn’t the most ideal place to take an omega in heat, especially considering the potency of your heavenly scent, steadily increasing.
Since Mark isn’t here yet, the least he could do is take you inside the building.
Your slick seeps into the frontside of Haechan’s clothes, clinging to his upper body for dear life as he carries you into an empty classroom. He sets you down on the lab table and observes the damage to his clothes.
“i-i’m sorry about that.” You lean back, peering down at your lap, nervously.
“Oh, baby…c’mere.”
Haechan cups over your knees and tilts forward to kiss your neck, sucking a dark hickey right next to your mating mark from his best friend.
“I like collecting these little spots from you.” He pries your thighs apart and draws closer to your bare pussy.
“It’s cute that your body can’t help but mark me somehow.”
He gets on his knees, darts his tongue out to swirl around your clit. His fingers prod your slick core and slide inside you, stroking your sensitive spot skillfully. The breathy noises he’s rewarded with are ones he’ll remember forever.
It’s astonishing how quickly Haechan figures you out.
He’s already in tune with your body, keenly aware of what makes you tick, knowing how to make you quiver and arch your back beautifully.
Not before long, Haechan has you shaking uncontrollably, squeezing your eyes shut, your short stuttered breathing uneven and shallow as your orgasm peaks, and you topple into an abyss of intense pleasure. The lollipop falls out of your open mouth, rolling off the black table.
You might as well be outside, stargazing in the dead of night based on how many constellations and galaxies twinkle and swirl behind your fluttering eyelids.
Haechan doesn’t let up on his efforts to overload your system with a tingly static sensation. Sobbing pathetically, you try to bat him away with what little strength you have, overstimulated and overcome with the sizzling heat frying your nerve endings.
He huffs and retracts his hands, wiping his mouth and the mess of dripping juices on your inner thigh.
“Okay, fine. I won’t touch you anymore!” he tosses his hands up in the air, melodramatic as ever.
“Finally,” you murmur, granted relief to catch your breath for the first time.
You’re heavily panting, linking your fingers together and resting your hands atop your head to allow better airflow into your oxygen deprived lungs. He steps back and studies you like a unique specimen for medical observation.
A few quiet moments pass before the dull cramps creep up inside you, not yet terribly painful but aching in a way that guarantees incoming sharp pains. You whimper for stimulation again, sending puppy dog eyes at Haechan.
“More…please.”
The alpha’s face is painted with mischief, taunting you by reaching for your body then abruptly stepping back to watch you sniffle, and rock back and forth.
Upon noticing your eyes starting to well up with tears, he ultimately gives in. Haechan curls two and then three fingers inside you, opening you up for his throbbing cock.
As much as he’d love to see you cry, he’s under strict instruction to satisfy and take care of you. He can’t threaten to not relieve the effects of your heat and tease you to the point of genuine distress.
“Aww, don’t cry, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
You let out a breathy moan and make grabby motions to the tent in his pants.
“Hm, does the cry baby want a knot?” You bite your bottom lip, nodding. “Yeah? Can you use your words? Or is there nothing going up there in that pretty little head of yours?”
He lightly taps your forehead twice, then slides that hand up to tangle in your hair.
You smile, shy and small, and, dare he say, adorable. “You- you think I’m pretty?”
One side of the alpha’s mouth curls up, amused that “pretty” was the only word that you clung onto. He rolls his eyes, teasingly.
“Of course you’re pretty, y/n.” Haechan removes his hand from your hair to take out his thick cock. “And only the prettiest of girls get this.”
With a newly unveiled salivating incentive, you immediately pull yourself together, spine straight as an arrow.
You stare at his shiny, precum-glossy cock with heart eyes, licking your lips as he gives himself a few jerks and produces more pearly droplets from his slit. He pushes you back against the lab table when you try to get to your feet for a taste.
“You can choke on my cock later, princess. I thought you wanted a knot? Or did you change your mind?”
“No! I-I do want it,” you frantically reply.
“You sure?”
“Yes, I really want it, Haechan, really badly.” He raises an eyebrow, expecting more. “Please…please, knot me. I wanna be filled with your cum. I’m begging you…breed me, Alpha.”
Breed me, Alpha rings in Haechan’s ears like wedding bells signifying the everlasting bond of a committed partnership. Hearing your sweet voice desperately begging for his seed, using the dominant title you only ever use with Mark, your real alpha, gets Haechan rock hard.
He savors every second he gets to be your alpha.
Satisfied with your eloquently worded, pitiful plea, he lines himself up. His shiny cockhead glides through your folds before breaching your dripping entrance.
“That’s what I thought, sweetheart,” the alpha whispers against your scent gland, his mouth sucking it softly.
You gasp as he drives his hips forward, forcefully pushing against your tiny hole until you’ve accepted his blunt tip, and sucked his fat cock inside.
Mark can smell you the second he drives on campus. He rolls his window down to take another alluring whiff, his right hand just barely gripping the bottom of the steering wheel while his left palms the bulge in his snug jeans, tenting obscenely.
Mind preoccupied, his tunnel vision blinds him from focusing on a single thing besides seeking you out and filling you with loads of cum as soon as possible. He doesn’t recall pulling into the parking lot, getting out of his car, or locking it. All he knows is that, within the blink of an eye, he’s rushed across the campus, his feet landing just outside one of the science labs housed in the same building as your astronomy lecture.
Yanking the door wide open, his wild eyes dart to where his best friend’s knot is locked inside his omega, rubbing your clit so aggressively after your third orgasm that you’re reduced to a twitching mess.
You don’t immediately recognize Mark’s presence, too lost in the intense buzzing sensation to even register that the alpha barged into the room.
Mark slams the door behind him and purposely leaves the door unlocked like Haechan did. There’s a certain reckless thrill that comes with the possibility of getting caught in a compromising position.
In contrast to the way he raced here, driving haphazardly and disobeying traffic laws, Mark slowly crosses the lab room towards your splayed body in a few, brisk strides. He removes his hard cock from his jeans with a lazy smile, stroking himself and licking his lips as you cry out.
Haechan flicks his chin up at Mark, greeting him happily. He makes a show out of pressing a slick-coated finger against your lips to silence you.
“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta keep it down. You don’t want everyone next door to hear, right? They’d probably say ‘we should go check on whoever’s crying!’ Only to come in here and find their pretty classmate is a dumb little slut…with a cunt full of cum.”
You whine, leading him to push two of his dirty fingers into your mouth to shut you up. His smirks as you mindlessly suck on them like a binkie, shutting your eyes and humming pleasantly.
“She’s so pretty when she cries.”
“I know right?”
Mark makes a growling noise in the back of his throat as he rubs his hand over where he can see the faint outline of Haechan’s thick knot buried inside you, making your abdomen bulge. Both you and Haechan shutter, feeling a tingly sensation from the pressure your boyfriend applies.
“So, how’s she been?”
“Well, she-”
“Mar?” you weakly croak around Haechan’s fingers and he removes them.
“I’m here, y/n, I’m right here.” Mark wipes a lone tear of yours away and caresses your warm cheek. “How are you feeling, baby?”
“I’m…hot.”
“No objection there,” Haechan jokes.
“Why did you send Haechan?” you continue like you didn’t hear the alpha currently plugging you up with cum.
“Oh, y/n. You remember how you were during your last heat.” Mark stops stroking his cock and takes out a tissue to dab away the sheen of sweat on your feverish forehead.
“Actually, you were probably too far gone, huh?”
You blink up at him, tilting your head into his hand when he tries to wipe your cheek. If you’re being honest with yourself, you only recall bits and pieces, and none of those memories are exceptionally vivid.
“I didn’t know it was possible. Like, I looked it up and on average, omegas need to be knotted 5x before their heat breaks. But, y/n, seriously, I lost track of how many times I knotted you and it’s never enough. I couldn’t take care of you throughout all of your heat and it killed me to see you like that and not be able to help you more. You need more than I can give you, princess.”
He offers you a small genuine smile, his hand trailing down to palm at your exposed breast. Mark gently rolls your nipple between his fingers, hearing you quietly purr. “So Haechan was nice enough to agree to help me help you.”
“But Mark-”
“It’s for your own good, y/n,” Mark calmly tells you. “And didn’t Haechan make you feel nice?”
“Um, well, I-”
You gulp, ruminating on how you want to answer, whether you should tell him that another alpha made you feel as amazing as Mark does.
“Wanna tell me what it’s like to have his knot locked inside that tight little pussy of yours? I know you love being full of my cum. What about his cum? I bet you looove getting fucked full of his cum too, huh?”
“Y-yeah, I love being full of cum…your cum and-and Haechan’s cum.”
Mark smiles at your response and rewards you by pinching your perky nipple. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.”
You whine when Haechan wiggles his mostly deflated cock out of your tight core. “You really weren't lying when you said she gets super wet.”
“Hm, let me feel.” He hums, looking closer and dipping his fingers inside the dripping combination of your fluids.
Mark widens his nostrils and takes in the aroma of Haechan’s cum mixed in with your juices, his eyes flashing blood red.
It’s unfamiliar and vaguely off putting to smell his mate has been violated and fucked open by another alpha. Although, overall, the dominant sensation coursing through Mark is arousal, turned on by the thought of sharing your body.
“Nah, man. It gets worse, you’ll see. Her heat hasn’t even peaked yet.”
Mark addresses Haechan like you aren’t even here. To be fair though, during your heat you’re not all here anyways.
“W-worse?”
“By the end of her last heat, she had so much fucking cum in her, I don’t know where it was all going.”
“Ha, we got ourselves a little cum dumpster here,” Haechan snickers, sliding his fingers inside your cum dribbling cunt again.
With such an overflowing amount of slick and cum, if someone told you that the obscene squelching that fills the room is a soundbite from some high quality pornography, you wouldn’t doubt it. You croon as he curls them up just right, taking a moment to stimulate your most sensitive spot skillfully.
He retracts them sooner than you’d prefer and brings his fingers to your mouth. “Suck.”
A fat droplet falls on your bottom lip.
Mark rubs slow, comforting circles over your abdomen. “Go ahead, baby,” he encourages, leaning down to suckle on your neglected bud.
Earning Mark’s blessing, you obediently suck your own berry wetness and Haechan’s cum off of the alpha’s fingers.
“God, what a filthy slut,” he says once you’ve fulfilled his wish. “She gives in so easily, she’d do anything to get another load of cum.”
A weak sound of protest weasels up the back of your throat, disagreeing with the term he used to describe you. You expect Mark to disagree with his best friend’s crude statement, but he shockingly does the opposite.
“Tell me about it, dude. The whole time she’s always begging for a knot and more cum. I know a lot of omegas beg in the middle of their heat…”
Mark pets your head gently for a second, then snakes his fingers into your hair, giving it a brief yank.
If you weren’t on the precipice of your heat hitting full force, his sudden action would’ve caused you a decent amount of pain. But by now, your aching body welcomes any form of touch – the rougher the better. The demeaning terms trigger strobing excitement inside you.
“…but with y/n, it’s like where did my sweet omega go? Who’s this needy cumslut?”
Your bottom lip quivers, internally conflicted by your budding arousal. Mark looks down at you with pity in his eyes.
“Aw, baby,” he coos, “don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying it to be mean, I’m just telling the truth. You don’t know what it’s like trying to take care of you.”
You whine softly, your foggy emotional state making you feel guilty, even if the fraction of you that’s still of sober mind knows that you have nothing to feel guilty for. The seeds of insecurity take root in your head, questioning if he secretly resents being with you, if you’re too much of a burden that he wishes he wasn’t your alpha.
Mark reads the emotional turmoil brewing on your precious face, and to soothe the distress, he quickly leans over to kiss it away. He kisses down your face, lips lightly kissing your forehead twice, between your eyebrows, the tip of your nose and finally to your lips, much gentler than the hand responsible for the arousing sting on your scalp. Mark tastes the other alpha and grins anyways.
“I don’t want you to feel bad about it, y/n.” He brushes a few stray tears away from where they began to spill from the corners of your wide, glossy eyes. “I just wanna make sure you’re well taken care of this time.”
“Even without you, I can take care of myself well enough,” you sniffle, lying through your teeth, fooling no one, not even yourself.
Your hand twitches, wanting to prove a point but hesitating because you're not used to being watched by two sets of eyes.
“Go ahead and touch yourself, princess. I know you want to,” Mark tells you.
“R-really? Like, um…” You swallow the lump in your throat. “...in front of him too?”
You sneak a glance at Haechan, who, by the looks of it, is about ready to unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole any second now. You vaguely remember wanting him to do so not too long ago in your most fuzzy heated state.
“Yes, in front of me and Haechan.”
“Aw, sweetheart. I just fucked your pretty cunt and yet you still feel embarrassed?” Haechan pouts in mock sympathy. “That’s adorable.”
Mark exchanges a look with his best friend before turning back to you. “Be a good girl for me and demonstrate how you used to do it before we met. You can do that, right, babe?”
An adoring smile reaches his lips, eyes locking with yours. You could try to deny the lewd act, but above all else, you want to please your alpha.
Mark wants you to be a good girl, and that is exactly what you will be. You gulp, releasing a shaky sigh, and nodding timidly. Your mouth twitches up to mirror his sincere smile as best as you can manage.
“That’s my girl,” Mark beams.
Mark knows how to comfort you, pushing two fingers into your mouth to give you something to wrap your lips around. He gently cups the back of your hand and guides it lower while you’re pleasantly suckling.
You tilt back, propping your upper body up by extending your left hand behind your back. Folding your spread legs up and planting your heals on the edge of the wide black lab table, exposing your throbbing cunt to the alphas.
You trace your fingers through your folds, rimming your freshly used entrance before sliding two of them inside, moaning around Mark’s fingers as you follow his instructions.
Muscle memory of touching yourself on a frequent basis over the years takes charge, and within seconds, you locate your weak spot.
“There you go. Good girl.”
You mewl, your legs trembling every so often as you draw your fingers up to stimulate your clit. The muscles in your face are equally as prone to a visceral jumpy reaction as your lower half is.
Craving more, you lay your upper body back against the table, and switch hands to curl your left fingers in your abused pussy and rub quick circles over the hood of your clit, stroking up and down to stimulate every nerve around the electrifying spot.
“M-mar…” you whimper, drool trailing from your stuffed mouth. “Fuck-fuck me. Please, I n-need your cum now.”
Mark bestows a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “How about you show me how bad you want it, eh?”
You hop off the table and lower to your knees obediently, folding your legs underneath you and sitting back on your feet, hands placed flat on your thighs, spine arched to show the round curve of your ass.
Haechan whistles. “You sure did train her well.”
“Nah, man. y/n didn’t need training. She’s just a perfect omega.” Mark smiles, happy to show you off. He pets your head as you start to squirm and quietly whimper.
“Open your mouth, baby.”
You part your lips, holding your tongue out to catch the spit that falls from Mark’s mouth. He hums, approvingly, watching you swallow it and open your mouth again. He pauses for a second before flicking his chin at Haechan.
“You want Haechan’s spit too?”
You glance at Haechan and release an affirmative noise a second later. Your core aches for further rough filling again. You rub your slippery thighs together, feeling more slick gush from your throbbing pussy, increasingly aroused when Haechan steps up to the plate.
He lets a string of saliva dangle from his tongue, slowly dripping into your mouth, and partially dribbling down your chin intentionally, simply because he wants to make a mess of your pretty face.
You're about to wrap your lips around Mark’s cockhead when all of a sudden, the sharpest pain stabs your abdomen. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, crumpling into a ball, squeezing your eyes shut, and nearly blacking out.
Mark kneels down and rubs your shoulder, lifting your head to look you square in the face. Worry colors his sharp features and shatters the heated, public pornographic fantasy.
“Shit. y/n’s cramps usually subside for an hour or so after getting a knot,” he mutters to Haechan. “I didn’t want to do this…but I don’t think we have much of a choice now…”
[hint for pt 2]
additional warnings: double penetration, spitroasting, oral (fem & male), face sitting, throat fucking, choking, somnophilia, squirting, sex toys, nipple play...i think that's it.
it’s 2023.
why did it take me this fucking long to write markhyuck x yn ?? i said i’d write for this pairing in FEB 20 FUCKING 21.
sorry for not posting in forever. since spring, i've been going through the trial and error phase of finding the right combination of medications for my fucked mental health 4x, and one of the biggest side effects i've experienced on all of them has been a loss of interest in things that used to excite me, which includes writing. that, paired with the lingering effects of long covid, has made it so that when i sit down to write, i often feel like i'm fighting with my own brain to construct a single linear thought.
the #1 motivation for writers is feedback and interaction. for me, knowing people enjoy my works and appreciate the time i put into something has a huge impact. i'd be really grateful if you shared this by giving it a reblog and would love to see you spam your thoughts/reactions in the tags or comments!
pt 2 is written out already, it just needs to be proofread. now...i'm not saying i WON'T post it next weekend, but comments, reblogs and feedback would definitely inspire me to finish it up on time.
okay 'tis all. thank you for reading and i hope you (yes, specifically YOU, beloved reader of mine who's reading this RIGHT NOW !) are doing well:))
stream 127's *FACT CHECK*
➾my masterlist
© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.
#mark#haechan#mark smut#haechan smut#nct#nct smut#nct dream#nct dream smut#nct 127#nct 127 smut#nct fic#nct dream fic#nct 127 fic#haechan fic#mark fic#haechan scenarios#mark scenarios#mark lee#donghyuck#mark lee fic#donghyuck fic#mark lee smut#donghyuck smut#mark lee scenarios#donghyuck scenarios#nct scenarios#nct dream scenarios#nct 127 scenarios
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telling my boyfriend my tampon is stuck . . .
pairings. haechan x reader (f)
genre. crack, fluff? established relationship
warnings. mentions of period blood lol
note. i've wanted to do this one for awhile lol and i finally had time to write this quickly so sorry if it's short, like and reblogs are vv much appreciated !! enjoy <3
[ series masterlist | masterlist ]
-
"babe?" you call out quietly, sounding nervous, from the bathroom.
you hear rustling in your bedroom. "yeah," he responds.
"can you come here please?" you wait patiently, swaying on your feet.
he appears a few feet away from the doorway. "what's up, baby?"
with him now standing in front of you, you're not sure how to go about this and you have to fight your inner self from bursting out into fits of nervous giggles.
you start fiddling with the rings around your fingers. "umm, i can't get my tampon out. it's stuck.."
his mouth slightly opens as he glances down then back up at you. "oh god, the string is gone?" he slightly chuckles but inches towards you, reaching with his hand to softly grab onto your elbow.
his reaction has you both chuckling a bit. "yeah, it's pretty far up there. i'm scared."
he nods, "okay, i'll get it." he replies, as if this was a normal occurence.
"no, no wait. it's bloody and gross."
he blinks. "so? i'll wash my hands first, you should lie down- wait i'll set a towel down for you. let me grab a flashlight-"
your head snaps towards him, grabbing his hand from leaving the room, with your eyes wide. "a flashlight? wait, no it's scary." you back away, laughing out of fear.
"baby, trust me i'll find it. we don't wanna leave it in there do we?" he quirks an eyebrow.
"well, no but-" he cuts you off.
leaving to grab a towel from the linen closet as he neatly places it down on the tiled floor. "i'm not walking into uncharted territory babe, don't you worry. take your pants off, lie down, knees up-"
"baby, wait!"
#boyfriend!haechan tiktok series#boyfriend!haechan#haechan fluff#haechan scenarios#haechan fic series#nct haechan#haechan crack#haechan drabble series#haechan drabbles#haechan imagine#lee donghyuck#haechan fic#lee haechan#nct scenarios#nct drabbles
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[11:18pm]
The night was quiet and peaceful. Music played softly in your dimly lit bedroom. Little taps of a phone keyboard could be heard just a few inches down from where you sat on the bed. You looked from your own phone to see Donghyuck looking down and texting someone.
For a moment your mind wondered to the potential of him texting a lover that made you eyes waiver unknowingly. Surely he would’ve told you if that was the case, you were best friends after all. He was probably just texting his other best friend, Mark.
You wanted to be in his heart only like he was in yours so badly. You screamed about it every night into your pillow on the rare occasion he wasn’t there. When he was, you settled on silently screaming while rolling around in anguish on the bed where he slept soundly next to you, blissfully unaware.
You loved staring at him. He was so beautiful with his golden skin and the fluffy brown hair that was growing out nicely. He was slouched against the wall but still his composure was so elegant. His hands that typed away seemed so dainty and effortless as his fingers were adorned with rings. The thought of holding them and feeling that familiar warmth always made your breath hitch in your throat as you felt your heart stop. Your gaze shifted with one of his hands that reached up to move his glasses back up. He wore no makeup due to the time which allowed you to view the moles on his cheeks that cascaded down his neck perfectly. The longer you looked the more things you found to love.
So lost in your own mind, you hadn’t cared about the fact he noticed your eyes and was now looking at you.
“What’s up?” He asked, his head tilted a bit.
That was his way of asking if anything was wrong. There was a familiar flutter in your chest from the simple action. You blinked a few times before sitting up straight against your pillows and shaking your head.
“I was just thinking.” You shrugged.
“About what?” He pondered.
“Your moles.” You answered.
A pout appeared on his lips at the mention. He confided in your once they made him insecure which you could never understand. You never knew how to respond just because you knew you’d end up with a whole essay which would be suspicious.
“You know-“ He started.
“I know.” You confirmed before he could finish his sentence. “I never understood your resentment toward them, Hyuck.”
“Of course not.” He sighed.
“Some people theorize they’re where your twin flame kissed you most in the last life. They’ve always been pretty and maybe that idea can help you change the way you think about them.”
His phone landed in his laps at your words. You could see his eyes look across your own face and body in silence. He moved from his snug spot against the wall on your bed to sit directly across from you. The closeness always startled you despite how regular it was between the both of you. It never failed to get your heart going and your only hope was he didn’t know.
“You have them too.” He leaned in closer as his eyes scanned your face.
He moved the strands of hair out of your face and tucked them behind one ear. You didn’t expect him to get any closer but suddenly he leaned in and left a kiss on your temple.
“Like here.” He pointed out after leaving the unexpected peck.
He reached up to grab your chin and then there was another kiss on your own cheek, not far from your lips.
“And there too.” He hummed.
There had been plenty times where the both of you had kissed each other cheeks. Something felt different now though. You just hope he hadn’t been able to see the blush appear on your cheeks and the felt the heat with the kiss.
Both hands now cupped your cheeks in such a way there was no way to avoid his stare. You could see his gaze move downward before moving back to meet your own once again.
“I’ve never noticed how many little moles you have around your lips.” He smiled. “I guess I kissed you a lot there in the last life… And I’ll do it again in this one.”
Before you could even question him, his plump, soft lips were against your own. The air was taken out of your lungs and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. A sigh escape automatically and you could feel your body relax under his touch. You moved into his body more as his hands moved down your sides to rest on your waist as your hands instinctively went to his neck to pull his closer only to slid down to his rest on his chest as his arms were now wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against him.
You could feel his rapid heartbeat under your palm which had you smiling against his lips.
Oh yes, he would most be definitely keeping his promise to you.
not proodfread. aesthyuckic © 2024. all rights reserved.
#its 2:30 am#did my fit of energy do good#haechan#haechan au#haechan imagines#haechan scenarios#haechan x reader#haechan fanfic#haechan fanfiction#lee donghyuck#haechan fics#nct au#nct haechan#haechan blurbs#haechan blurb#haechan fic#haechan imagine#haechan drabbles#haechan fluff#haechan timestamps#nct dream blurbs#nct dream imagines#nct imagines#nct imagine#nct fluff#nct 127 imagines#nct u imagines#nct u fluff#nct 127 fluff#nct dream fluff
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haechan — settle down (rockstar hyuck) | part 2 of 3
wc: 18k (yay!)
genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), a bit of fluff
warnings: wet dreams, jerking off, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected sex, making out, praise kink, strength kink (? he's strong...) crying during sex, dirty talk, aftercare...? petnames (baby, princess), and ... names
needs to be read after part 1 i think!
a/n: shorter warnings list lmfao anyway.... i....this took me awhile but i really hope u enjoy this and the way it reads. let me know what you think and please be kind :) thank you thank you THANK YOU to every single one of you on my taglist and if you've sent me an ask, reblogged, or left a comment. i could not have finished this without u
haechan almost always knew of the hurt he caused — especially to you.
he knew what he was doing each time he showed up around you at a party, love bites staining his skin and hair messy and wild. he noticed the way you recognised the perfume on him with a crinkle of your nose, or the slight flicker of sadness in your eyes when his phone would vibrate against the bedside table, wandering to the names on his phone. he could feel the way your shoulders tensed when he smiled blankly at you, track your movements as you looked away when he was cozying up with someone else.
and most of all – he knew that beyond that, you couldn't go to him for all your hurt. and that was what would be most painful, the knowledge that everything you had to suffer was unjustified, feelings not tied to reason, because he never made you any promises.
haechan almost always knew of the hurt he caused — and he always hoped that his touch could be a good enough apology.
all throughout rehearsals, when they took the trip to the venue, back to when he had woken up that morning, something had stirred in his chest. he was never nervous before shows, but this time he fiddled with his guitar mindlessly, wandering over to the bar and ordering just a few drinks to hopefully dull the way his heart was racing in his chest, alcohol burning a path down his throat. he picked at the way his hair fell over his eyes, re-doing his makeup before the show with the black eyeliner that he couldn't hold without thinking of you. his bandmates watching him carefully, not knowing what had changed. he wouldn't be able to tell them if they'd asked.
it was only when the girl in the bathroom had stumbled away on shaky feet, leaving one last slick touch on his arm as a goodbye, when all his feelings that had ached in him that day came crashing down in his chest, that crushing weight he couldn't ignore each time he tried to breathe.
you had kissed him — and it felt like a promise.
it was this thought that now stung at him, as he watched the numbers on the screen of the elevator flick higher and higher. he had made his way to your apartment as if on autopilot, driving down streets now too familiar. he always knows the hurt he causes you — and he feels it now, like retribution, because even now he has no right to be angry at you. no right to blame you for his hurt, because while he had never made you promises, in reality you hadn't either.
but the reality was he was here now, knocking on your apartment door.
"y/n?"
there's warm light seeping out under your apartment door, he can see all your shoes on the rack outside. jaemin's not home, but you definitely are.
he knocks again, a bitter taste in his mouth.
"y/n, i know you're home."
his hand curls into a fist, and he hits it against the door, twice. he thinks he can hear something beyond the door, a clink of something like keys, so he raises his voice, the tone of it rough.
"are you happy now?"
mark has told him he gets vindictive when he's hurt or scared, has urged him to think before he speaks.
"does it make you feel like you have the upper hand? standing me up?"
but haechan can't distinguish what he's feeling right now.
"because i don't care at all," he spits, lies he'd never rehearsed, the alcohol mixing with thoughts he didn't even know he had, to inflict the cruelest hurt. "at least i know the girl i fucked didn't feel any different." his voice dips low, cold freezing over each syllable. "i hope you know even if you went, i still would've picked her. it didn't make any difference."
the night is still, and quiet. his words seem to swell in the air, ringing around in his head. he stands in front of the door, head lowered, hand still lingering on cool surface, breaths dragged out of his lungs painfully. he waits for so long, that he wonders if he was speaking to no one at all — if you'd been asleep, if he imagined the sounds beyond the door.
but then there's a soft click, and the door drifts open.
the moment haechan sees you, he feels it like a shot to his chest, because something was terribly wrong.
it's not just the tears running down your cheeks.
your face is blotchy and red, dark circles under your teary eyes, your hair mussed up and tangled. you're wrapped in layers of clothing despite the cool summer night, your body still trembling with cold, and when you speak, your voice is so hoarse and broken that it makes goosebumps break out over his skin — and an achy tone he never wanted to hear from you ever again.
"it didn't make a difference?"
his lips part. he tugs on his jacket, trying to to close it, to pull up his collar a little higher, but it's too late — your eyes are already reading the marks on his skin, drinking in every last detail of him. 5 minutes ago he had wanted nothing more than for you to open the door and see him exactly like this — lipstick smudged lips and fucked out eyes, the smell of fake roses clinging to each fibre of his clothing, the rips in his jeans tugged this way and that.
and all at once he knew — you had wanted to go, and he just accused you of the worst thing. you were going to go, and now he was forcing you to look at him like this. if the trip here made him feel vulnerable and bruised, he knew it must have felt like this for you too on the nights he didn't ask for you — the two of you sharing feelings that you weren't supposed to have, that you couldn't justify.
now haechan sees the way your face crumples, tears gathering on your waterline. you lift your hands to wipe them away, and it's like he can feel the way your chest shakes with wounded sounds and choked sobs, your fingers clenching into fists as you bite your lip to keep from bursting into tears.
"y/n-" he breathes. "are you…is everything —"
"s-so you didn't mean it? when you invited me?" you're trying to steady your breathing. every second that passes where he's watching you fall to pieces in the doorway feels like it's searing into haechan's skin, the heavy feeling in his chest increasing tenfold with guilt. he swallows, as he watches you take a few deep breaths. "i thought… i thought it meant…when you invited m-me you said you weren't making empty promises —"
"i wasn't." he bites his lip, taking a step towards you. "y/n —"
but you back away. "i was going to go, haechan. i was really going to go –"
"i know." he knew now.
" — but i've been sick since yesterday, and it wasn't getting any better, i couldn't leave the house –"
"why didn't you tell me?" he desperately wants to run away, but he knows it's worse for you.
your voice is small. "i don't have your number."
it had slipped his mind. it was something so stupid, something so small – how he never wanted to give you a way to talk to him, or give himself an easy way to access you, didn't want things to be too easy. all of it had slowly built up to that feeling each time he glanced at his phone that night, clutching the lifeless device in his hands.
the last thing he should do, if he ever wanted to see you again, is blame you. he bites back his question of why you didn't ask jaemin for help, wrapping his jacket around his body self-consciously, running a hand through his hair. "i forgot," he whispers. hurt flickers across your face again.
"i d-don't know why i thought this would be different." you wipe at your face, biting your lip again to keep from trembling. "i hoped that maybe, even if i couldn't show up, you'd come here and take care of me. when i heard you outside the door…"
the words have a bitter bite to them, and you spit them out like you hate the taste in your mouth, hate every memory associated with his care.
"i'll take care of you," he pleads, quickly, stepping towards you.
he doesn't know what he expected, if you'd showed up. maybe he'd play for you, and leave with your hand in his. maybe he could have taken you in his car, or in his soft sheets at home. brought you out for a late dinner, sit with you and let you pry him open as you always did. or maybe he'd say nothing at all, and nothing would have changed – he didn't know.
his touch has always been his apology, always his way of reaching you through the only sure thing the both of you wanted from each other. but the look on your face tells him that the brush of his fingertips against your skin is only cruelty.
"you're fucked up if you think i'm letting you take care of me now," your voice is grating, rough on his skin.
"but i-"
"you'll hold me like this? force me to stare at the marks on your chest? breathe the perfume that isn't yours?" your tone is harsh and accusatory. he takes it all. "what were you going to do, if i showed?"
and for once, haechan can't help but be honest. "i don't know," he mumbles, and he sees the words hit you like a strike to your face.
"you knew i wanted more," you whisper. "you knew i wanted to be close to you, but you always…you always –"
"wanted?" he asks, quietly.
"you can't think i still want to know you, after everything. whatever person lies behind all that…" your tears have stopped, your voice unfeeling. the numbness in you mirrors his own. "i want nothing to do with him."
he can't think of anything to say. he reaches out a hand, and for a moment you let his fingers graze your arm, fear and hurt in the way they curl around your wrist, begging you to hold on to him too. you're scaring him, and he doesn't know how to go back, but he knows he deserves everything you're saying to him. deserves the way you shake free of his hold and close the door, his feet stumbling over themselves as he backs away.
you said you didn't want to know him, that you didn't know him at all. but he can't help thinking that's not true, because you knew him enough to know exactly how to hurt him through the walls, through the boy he pretended to be, right through his chest and past his ribcage, right into his aching heart.
—
ever since your fever broke, your life had been quiet.
you go to all your classes. you cut down on coffee by getting sleep at night. you take walks with jaemin around the neighborhood, falling back into old routines. movie nights, and grocery trips. he was coddling you, and you felt it every day — coming home to warm meals, the way he was more forgiving over little disputes. you didn't deserve it, watching him slip out of the front door quietly, camera bag slung over his shoulder.
you didn't deserve it, because you ached to follow.
some part of you was still trapped inside your room, heady and aching, desperately trying to reach him. needing his apology, needing him to recognise the way he hurt you. you couldn't look for answers in your memories, but you played each scene back in your mind like a looping film reel, letting images suffocate you — his jacket falling open, love bites marking his skin, all the times he's slipped from your grasp. and yet, other fragments come back too — the warmth of his hand on yours in the car, the slight tilt of his head as he brought his gaze level with yours, seeking you out when things got too much. his quiet answers in the dark, the slow smile that spread across his face that made you glow, knowing you'd made him happy.
"he got off lightly," you tell jaemin one night, the both of you on the floor by the couch. ice cream and wine drip condensation on the table-top, and the both of you are too heavy with the rush of sugar and alcohol, the clock ticking in the silence of the room as you sit.
"you just want to see him again," he'd replied, quietly. "don't you?"
"i just wish we could have talked." your voice is small. you and haechan never truly talked, except for some nights in the dark, lying in his arms afraid to breathe, afraid of breaking the tenderness that swelled in the room, afraid of turning on the lights to see who you were holding in the shadows.
"and then what? you'd be together?" jaemin glances over at you, and the concern in his eyes makes you shrink back even more. you were supposed to be doing better. everything in your life was right, it was exactly the way it should be — but why did you feel empty?
"then i'd at least have closure," you mumble. "i'm never going to get any answers unless i talk to him."
a brief expression of discomfort crosses jaemin's face, but it's gone when you blink.
"i just don't want you to see him again, and forget all the ways he hurt you."
you don't say a word. both of you knew that it was something too likely to happen.
—
it's dark in haechan's room. the boy liked it shadowy, black-out curtains drawn over the windows, the air cool from air-conditioning, an air humidifier spewing light blue mist in the corner. the boy sitting in bed had his guitar in his lap, picking at the strings quietly, his phone face-up on the bed next to him, recording his ideas. he was swaddled in a large hoodie, swallowing his frame, shorts riding high on his thighs as he curls into himself.
he doesn't look up when mark shuffles in, closing the door behind him quietly, blinking as his eyes adjust to the low light.
"jaemin's outside."
haechan nods. "i heard you." his voice is a soft sound, boyish. mark has heard it enough growing up, that he knows haechan is scared. he knows haechan is waiting for answers, waiting for the verdict.
"he says he'll only continue to work with us if you stop seeing… y/n."
the name trips in his mouth, clumsy. it feels strange to use it, especially around haechan, who knows you more than any of them do, like he's saying something he's not allowed to, a boy using an expletive he doesn't understand. haechan's body tenses when he hears your name in mark's voice, predictable, almost laughable — the slight tightening of his nimble fingers on the neck of the guitar, slip of his fingers on the guitar pick.
"okay." and the boy goes back to playing.
"you'll stop seeing y/n?"
"yeah." mark moves closer to the bed, sees haechan's lower lip caught in his teeth.
"haechan, stop."
the boy shakes his head roughly, plucking at the strings a little harder.
"what happened? what happened between you and y/n?"
"i'll stop seeing her."
"stop acting like i don't know you," mark mumbles, finally sitting down on the bed. haechan stills, as mark pulls the guitar away from him, his hands going limp as he lets mark set it down at the foot of the bed. "i hate it when you do that."
"i'm sorry." a beat, then haechan buries his face in his hands, pulling at his features, before letting his arms drop down to the bed again. "could you…could you at least tell her?"
"tell her what?"
"that jaemin told me to stay away." haechan fiddles with the hem of his shirt, head still lowered. "i…i shouldn't be the one avoiding her. she should be avoiding me."
"is there a difference?"
"yeah." he mumbles his words, plush lips barely forming each syllable. "because i hurt her. i can't hurt her and then ignore her…that's…that's not right."
"so you want to keep seeing her?"
"i just want…" his voice is hollow, and when he looks up at mark — the dim light in the room catching on the features of his face, mark can finally see the way his lips were raw, skin torn and bitten. his eyes, usually sharp and piercing, are puffy and swollen from crying, dazed pupils blinking up at him. "mark, i don't think i've ever hurt someone like this before."
mark wonders what he could have done, but he doesn't ask. "do you want to make it right?"
"i don't know how." he swallows, throat bobbing. "i don't know if i can."
"maybe avoiding her isn't the best thing…" mark starts, putting a hand on haechan's arm, but haechan flinches.
"the band will kill me. jeno will kill me." mark opens his mouth to argue, but already haechan is leaning back against the headboard, head lowered and looking down at his lap. "i'll do it. i won't see her again."
"it'll be fine" mark reassures, softly. "in a few weeks, after a few more people, you'll forget all about her."
neither of them really believed it.
—
as jaemin sits on the couch — jeno sprawled on an armchair with jisung perched on the armrest, mark sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, he thinks about how these boys have become his close friends. he fits in with them in a way he never has with his other clients — evenings spent photographing them, understanding them through the lens of his camera. cycling trips with jeno, bringing out mark's competitive streak as they drank in the kitchen, babying jisung and taking care of him when the other bandmates weren't around to do so.
and of course, getting to know haechan — teaching him how to use a camera, chatting with him easily about the city. if jaemin was to be honest, haechan intimidated him a little with how guarded he was, every sentence he spoke to jaemin felt like it'd been turned over a million times in his head, each word careful and poised. he also disappeared for long periods of time, sometimes never there during parties.
now jaemin knew what the time had been spent on. who he'd spent it on.
"we're really sorry." it's mark who speaks up first. jisung nods in agreement, while jeno looks on.
"i don't need you to be sorry," mumbles jaemin. "it's not your fault."
"still…" mark scratches the back of his close-cropped hair tentatively. "he mentioned it."
"what did he say?"
"he didn't tell us everything," jisung says, voice hushed. his hair falls over his eyes as he ducks his head in thought. "mostly just told us to stay away."
"did he sound like he wanted them to be exclusive?"
mark and jisung exchange a glance, but it's jeno's voice that answers just as mark's lips part.
"no." when jisung bites his lip, jeno raises his eyebrows, annoyed. "are you kidding? he just said he fucked her more often, and that we should fuck off."
jisung looked wounded. "he didn't say that."
"but that's what he meant."
"mark?"
jaemin calls out to the boy, bringing him out of his thoughts. mark was staring at his own hands, a frown creasing his face.
"haechan agreed," he says, slowly. your name lingers on the tip of his tongue as he says it, like he's tasting the sound, the unfamiliarity of it in his mouth. "i…i think i might know what's going on with haechan, but it's up to him to explain, not me."
"so he won't see her anymore?"
the words come easily to jaemin. he knew it was the deal he was going to make the moment he texted mark to ask if they could talk. he was willing to lose his growing friendship with the rest of the boys if it could give you peace, if all of you could go back to the way things were.
he think back to how he found you — struggling to head out of the door the previous day, barely able to make it to the door, the fever burning up your brain and making your bones ache. he thinks of coming back home to you after he'd went to the pharmacy to get you medicine, slipping his shoes off at the door and immediately knowing that something had changed, from the tears streaming down your face.
"how did this happen?"
"he came to see me" you mumble, struggling with the sleeves of the thick sweater you were trying to pull your arms through. the moment you straighten, you wince as a dull pain throbbed through your head, hunching over again as stars blinked in your vision.
"haechan?"
he sets down the bag of medicine on the kitchen counter, picking up the thermometer and pointing it at your forehead. the light on the screen blinks red, and his eyebrows furrow, the displeased expression on his face only growing stronger.
"why did you open the door?" he asks, slowly. "i thought we talked about this."
"i thought…." your voice is scratchy, as pressure seems to rise inside your skull, pain that made your eyes tear up. it's laughable that you thought he would take care of you, and instead he ripped you to pieces. tears well up in your eyes again, and your lips part, only to let out a small sob.
he grips onto your arm, gently but firmly, steering you back towards your room. you don't have any strength to fight back, it felt like the temperature in the room was at freezing point even though jaemin was only wearing a thin shirt and shorts, and the ache in your bones made every movement shoot pain through your nerves. even after lying down on your bed, swaddled in blankets, the dim light slightly easing the pain in your head, you were too weak to lift your head, stretching your fingers out over the blanket and crawling towards where jaemin's hand rested on the sheets.
he held your hand and listened to you talk, knowing you needed to let it all out. he didn't judge, he didn't make faces. just listened with his eyes closed as you told him about meeting haechan, the way he pulled you away from everyone else and how you'd followed. he observed you quietly through his lashes as you sniffled, breaths breaking up your words.
the story got harder to tell when you recounted moments of his tenderness — when he'd call you his, when he took care of you, when he'd promise to be harsh with you but never went through with it, the way his face fell when you cried. you stuttered and hesitated through it all, because you didn't know if any of it was real or just imagined.
jaemin knows he could have hurt you further — broken every last illusion, pierced through the image of haechan you had in your head. but he didn't have the heart to, so this was the best he could do — making sure it stopped.
"it's done," mark nods, but he looks unhappy.
jaemin doesn't feel the weight lift from his chest like he thought it would. he feels jisung move to sit next to him, a hand on his shoulder as he observes his face.
"i'm really sorry," he mumbles, lips barely moving.
"it's not your fault," jaemin replies, leaning back against the cushions, letting out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
—
haechan is dreaming again.
except it's more memory than dream, the way you're laid up against the pillows, fingers tangled in his hair as he leaves kisses on your inner thighs. it's so vivid, the way you taste, the twitch of your muscles as you tense around him, the small gasp as he pulls away to sit back on his knees.
"please-" you whimper, needy from being teased. scrabbling, you bring your knees to your chest, hands trembling as you hook them on your thighs, tears smearing your cheeks with a dewy glow. you were trying to keep your voice quiet, small sounds barely escaping your lips as you bit down on them, pleading with him through murmurs and barely coherent words. his shirt on your body crinkled everywhere from how he'd been grabbing at it, the long sleeves falling over your palms. it was straight out of a wet dream, which it now was, as you begged him to fuck you, your wet folds slick with spit and arousal as you bared yourself to him, pleading with him to sink into you.
in memory, he croons. he gives you what you asked for — pressing your weight into the mattress as he pushes into you, feel you pulse around him as he goes in hard and deep, feel your body trembling against his.
but in dream, he can be honest enough with himself to admit that it scares him when you cry. that his stomach twists when he hears you beg, like missing a step on a staircase, a second where he's rushing into nothing — not knowing if he'd made you like this, not knowing if he was hurting you. from the girl shaking against him, clumsy hands finding purchase on his shoulders, and you now — hips rocking into nothing, desperate for him.
"i'm here," he whispers, gently taking your hands and slowly lowering your legs down to the bed. he kisses you until your breathing calms and slows, your hands now on the sides of his face, caressing his cheeks. he likes how you touch him as if you could ever bruise him, loving brushes of your fingertips, urgency making your fingers curl into his skin, hesitant scratches on his shoulders that your hands skitter away from.
in dream, he pushes into you slowly, watching the way your lips part, breath caught in your chest, eyes fluttering closed as you take him in. wet sounds fill the room as he begins to move his hips, your face shyly tucked into his chest, your ankles sweetly hooked against his lower back as you melt together. the feelings in his chest intensifying the pleasure he feels from you wrapped around him. his eyes meet yours as you blink up at him, and it's so real — the way you glow against the sheets of his bed, eyes all soft and sparkling with tenderness.
but then he wakes in the same bed: the feeling of you under him, the crash of his heartbeat in his chest, all of it hanging in the dark, a lingering tattoo on his body.
—
so it's almost like a dream, when he opens the door to the stranger's bedroom, to see you slumped on the floor.
the din from below echoes through the hall, the sounds of the overwhelming crowd seeping into the room and reminding him of why he was here. he'd been looking for a quiet place to be alone — the constant eyes on him making him feel self-conscious and jumpy.
back at the apartment, jeno had said he wasn't being like himself, that he hadn't been himself in a long time, the memory of his laugh ringing in haechan's ears as he climbed upstairs. when has a crowd ever bothered you? when have you ever hated attention?
he didn't know the answers.
now haechan stands in the doorway, not believing his eyes. there was no way you'd known he would be here, alone. you're curled in on yourself on the floor, leaning against the bed with your knees tucked to your chest, eyes shut. your body is still, and for just a while longer he lets himself watch you for just a moment — drink in every single detail he'd missed even if it felt like teasing open his own wounds with fingers caked in salt. the rise and fall of your chest, your hair mussed up and falling over your face, the slope of your shoulders, your arms.
and suddenly he's back in his bed, your weight the only thing he was sure of against his chest, drunk on the soft sounds you made, lips barely forming his name.
you don't know he's here yet. he could walk away, leave you by yourself. but something in him told him he couldn't leave you like this in the middle of a party, barely conscious in a stranger's bedroom. before he knows what he's doing, before he can fathom the consequences, he's kneeling before you, slipping his jacket off his shoulders and draping it over your body. you reek of alcohol, stirring when you feel the weight of the leather on your body, your tongue numb and heavy in your mouth, eyelashes feeling stuck to your cheeks as you struggle to open your eyes.
"y/n?" haechan whispers, choking on the sound of your name.
"haech-" you trail off, fingers coming up to rub your eyes sleepily, the jacket slipping slightly. "haechan." it's the way you say it, like your tongue is too afraid to form the syllables, like something you can't bear to say.
"i-i'm going to find someone," he mumbles, backing away from you, clumsily trying to get to his feet. "you stay here, i'll –"
"don't go-" the words almost get lost from the way you're slurring, lips barely moving, shaking your head as you reach for him again. your fingers slip on the sleeve of his shirt, before curling and holding on tight. "please don't leave."
"i…" pain flickers over his features. he bites his lower lip, body moving towards yours instinctively, your hand crawling up his sleeve and grasping for his arm, fingers digging to the bone as you tremble. but then he feels your breath on his neck, and he pulls away again.
"what happened, y/n? did someone hurt you?" he feels like a hypocrite.
"no," you say, meekly. "i think i just had too much to drink."
"did you come with jaemin?"
you shake your head, nuzzling into him in a way that makes his heart pulse painfully in his chest. "i don't know anyone here."
he still thinks he should get help from any of the girls downstairs. even as you meld yourself a little closer to him, he's almost certain you wouldn't be acting this way if you were sober.
"y/n, i can't. please just let me call jaemin–"
"want you here." you reach for him again, trying to pull him impossibly closer, fitting his body against yours. "don't want jaemin to see me like this."
it dawns on him that besides jaemin, he was the only one you felt comfortable around like this. it wouldn't be the first time he's taken care of you when you were vulnerable or weak, and his body reacts out of habit — pulling you into his arms, his hands gently patting your back as you blink back tears in the crook of his neck. but it still didn't feel right, knowing he was the one who had caused this, and yet he was here holding you.
"let me talk to someone downstairs – i'll see if they can take you home," he murmurs. you bury your face deeper in his neck, shaking your head. "just 5 minutes, okay? i just need 5 minutes —"
"don't want someone to bring me home," you rasp, and his gut twists painfully when i feels your tears damp on his skin. "i don't want to go back to my place. i want to go with you."
"you're going to regret this," he says, softly. to him it's the truth you're not sober enough to see, even if it hurt to tell you. "you don't really want this, y/n."
"is it because you want to find someone else?" your words are soft-edged, lips forming the words carefully, but it pierces him all the same. "is it- is it because you want to bring someone else home?"
"no," he answers, quiet. "i haven't…not in a while."
"so you just don't want to be around me?"
his mind is racing, desperately trying to think of how he could help you, but his mind was coming up with nothing. that same feeling he always had around you — protectiveness intersecting with the ache in his chest everytime your eyes met his, all of it roaring in his ears, louder than the cacophony from any party. for all the times he's claimed he knew what was good for you, he's begun to realise that he has a terrible grasp on how not to hurt you.
"you don't want to be around me," he corrects, but his fate is sealed when you let out a small sob, muffled against his shirt.
and he takes you home.
—
you watch him through your lashes, as he swipes a cotton pad on your face, cleaning off your makeup.
"close your eyes," he mumbles, a slight pout forming on his lips from how hard he was concentrating, trying to be gentle with you. his touches are far too light, and you're sure your makeup is still on your face, but you let your lashes flutter shut anyway, feeling a featherlight brush against your eyelid as he holds it against your eye. dropping the used pad into a small bin, he brings a warm, damp towel up to your face, the material of it soft against your skin.
"can you brush your teeth?" he holds a toothbrush up to your face, but he withdraws it once your hands come up to hold it, completely misjudging the distance and landing on his shoulders instead. "open," he coaxes, parting his own lips so you'd mimic him. he smiles fondly as you open your mouth wide, a hand coming up to hold your face in place. "good girl," he mumbles, and you preen at the praise that shines through your drunken haze, following his instructions to rinse out your mouth.
there's a short pause. having brushed out your hair, removed your makeup and brushed your teeth, the only thing to do next was to get you to bed.
your legs squeeze around his hips, your back against the mirror on his bathroom counter. "haechan," you mumble, tipsiness making you swallow your words. "don't…my clothes…"
"i'll leave them on," he promises, ignoring the way your tight dress looks uncomfortable and unclean to sleep in. "don't worry." of course you don't feel comfortable around him, not after everything.
but for some reason, you're shaking your head, two clumsy hands closing in on one of his and guiding them to your back. "take them off. please–" you add, when he hesitates. "please help me."
"of course," he murmurs, familiarity sparking in his fingertips as they grasp for the zipper, a sense of dejavu in how he drags it down your spine slowly, your back arching slightly. you look at him, drink in the proximity like the first taste of rain after a heatwave — the pretty cut of his eyes, the way his pupils float upwards as he focuses on your back through the mirror. the round tip of his nose, and finally the plushness of his heart-shaped lips. it feels like reprieve, the ache in you finally soothed by the way his breath fans over your cheeks, a gentle balm on an open wound. you lean forward slightly into him as if drawn by a magnetic field, one of your hands coming up to trace the arches of his cupid's bow.
"y/n?" you can feel his lips move, soft like rose petals on your fingertips. "what are you doing?"
"you haven't called me baby all night," you blurt out. "or…or princess." your thumb dips to brush against his lower lip, before he's catching hold of your hand and pulling it away from his face gently.
"i shouldn't," he mumbles, pressing a light kiss to your fingertips before letting go. "i can't."
your dress has gone loose around your body, and you push the sleeves off your shoulders with your hands, letting the fabric drop to your waist. you observe him, watching the way he swallows, throat bobbing when his eyes dart to your chest, lace draped over your curves.
"haechan," you murmur, but then he turns, hands now fumbling with a pile of his clean clothes. he holds out a clean shirt to you, bunching it up at the collar to slip your head through it, but you stop him with a hand on his chest.
"i want that one," you say, softly, pointing to a long sleeved shirt you'd remembered wearing before in the room he'd shared with the boys. something flickers in his eyes, his hands curling into fists before he picks it up. he's putting it over your head, the soft cotton hanging off your shoulders, his hands coming close to your body to guide your arms into the sleeves, until you can't take it anymore.
"haechan, don't you want me?"
his lips part, his hands stilling, slowly unfurling his grasp on you and placing his palms on the counter. "y/n…"
"why aren't you-" you look up at him, biting your lip, your tongue too slow to form the thoughts your mind was racing with. "why haven't you touched me yet? do you not want me like this?"
his heart splinters and fractures. you were so used to it — used to all his touches leading to kisses, kisses leading to him all over your body. "you're drunk." it's the only thing he can say.
"i know what i'm doing," you fire back, but your words lilt and smear together. "ask me anything and i can answer you right now."
but all he does is resume putting your arms through the sleeves, your limbs pliant against him as always, and soon you're completely covered up, and he can breathe a little easier. his strong arms grip your waist, and you're like a ragdoll in his grip as he guides you to stand, the dress at your hips falling, the shirt brushing the top of your thighs.
it gets worse when he sets you down in his bed. in another universe, this might be a moment of bliss for him, something romantic and sweet in the way your body curves against his pillows, sinking down into them and blinking up at him hazily. but guilt still thunders in his chest, his vision split by lightning bolts of fear. you would wake up hating him. he would never stop hurting you. you would never want to see him again.
your arms slide up his, grasping for him. "please," you plead, your voice small. "what did i do wrong? why don't you want to touch me?"
"you didn't do any wrong," he murmurs, as he lets his weight sink into bed next to you, feel you curl up against him. just for a minute he tells himself — just until you fall asleep. your weight on his chest feeling like someone had doused his body with warmth, a comfort that made his eyes prickle with tears. "y/n, you're perfect," he whispers, the words melting into the dark.
"don't say that." he feels tears wet against the soft fabric of his shirt over his chest. "stop saying my name."
"baby," he amends. "sweetheart, go to sleep."
you hum. "haechan."
"don't," he echoes.
"what's wrong?" you mumble, your question heavy with sleep.
he grips onto you tighter, holding you fiercely as tears cloud his vision.
"i'm sorry," he says, his voice cracking. "i'm so so so sorry." when you don't respond, he nuzzles into your hair, freckling wet kiss on your forehead. "i'm sorry," he repeats, long after you've fallen asleep.
—
you wake up to the sound of laughter ringing out against the walls.
the room is as dim as it was last night — dark curtains drawn and the lights turned off. time seemed to have come to a standstill, you couldn't tell if it had been days or weeks or even months since you'd fallen asleep. your body ached, still heavy with sleep while your mind cleared — it had been a while since you've slept this well.
blinking your eyes open, you slowly sit up, feeling sheets warm and soft against your skin. you sit there, dazed, getting your bearings as you survey the unfamiliar room again. your clothes, folded on a small couch next to the window. your jewelry on the bedside table, your phone plugged in to the charger.
the only thing you recognised was the long sleeved shirt unmistakeable on your body, the familiar smell of perfume and body lotion in every fiber of the sheets.
stumbling over to the bathroom, the warm light brings back every memory — the party, the drinks, stumbling upstairs into a room as your consciousness slipped away, and then haechan, haechan, haechan. haechan leading you out of the party, taking you home in his car, taking care of you. your fingers ghost over your forehead, where you swear he kissed you just before you woke up.
you turn off the tap. in the silence, there's another round of giggles, bright like a child's, and then —
"baby, don't move!"
haechan's voice rings lighter than you've ever heard it, and the smile in it is evident. this is a voice without shadows, fondness in every lilt and inflection. with something like urgency, you dry your hands on your shirt, padding out of his room, hesitantly blinking into the sunlit living room.
you almost don't believe your eyes.
haechan is sitting on the couch, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and pink lips stuck out in a pout. sitting on the floor, cross-legged between his knees, was a little girl — her hands busy with a doll, while her own hair was being meticulously braided and arranged by the boy…whose head snaps up the moment he hears the creak of the door.
"you're awake," he blurts out, and the girl looks up.
"hi!" she waves shyly, leaning forward towards you, but whining as the motion tugs on her hair instead. "hyuck! it hurts…"
his eyes finally dart away from yours. "i'm sorry," he murmurs, lightly massaging her scalp with the tips of his fingers.
"you're making it messy —"
"right, sorry." he grabs a sparkly pink hairbrush and combs through her hair gently, beginning to rebraid. the girl goes back to her doll, settling back down and quickly losing interest in you.
his eyes flick up to yours again, the tiniest hint of blush on his cheeks. "did you sleep well?"
you nod, feeling like you'd walked in on something you weren't supposed to.
haechan studies your face, a strand of hair falling from his grasp before he tucks it in diligently. "are you hungover? there were painkillers on the bedside table, i don't know if you saw…"
"i'm fine," you croak out.
"and there's breakfast on the table," he murmurs, ducking his head back down to focus on the impressive french braid he was attempting. he looks back up when he feels you staring, as if fixed to the ground beneath your feet.
"is she…?"
"this is my baby sister," he answers, smiling softly. "sorry, i didn't know she was coming over today. her kindergarten is near here so sometimes i walk her to school." and then, with a nod towards the table, "please eat — i made too many sandwiches."
the girl smiles, mumbling softly to herself. "hyuckie makes the best sandwiches."
you can see 'hyuckie' blush at that, his lips pressed together tightly to keep in his smile as he pokes the little girl's cheek softly, going back to the braid. you cross over to the dining table, feet shuffling slowly, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from the two siblings, watching the fondness in haechan's eyes. quietly pulling out a chair, you sit down and pick up a sandwich, holding it gingerly between your fingers.
a hushed voice breaks the silence, and you turn to see his sister, cupping her lips against haechan's ear whispering so loud that her words fill the room. "is she your friend?" the girl asks, pointing her pinky finger at you, head tilted with curiosity. haechan's head tilts too, but his eyes wander over to yours as he hesitates.
"yes, she's my friend," he says, slowly. "we're…good friends." sliding the hair ties from his wrist, he finally finishes tying off the braid, before giving the girl a gentle pat on the shoulder. "you can play for 5 more minutes okay? hyuckie needs to talk to his friend."
her round eyes blink at you as she slowly gets to her feet, before tottering over to the window, where another pile of dolls lay. haechan clears his throat, before shuffling over to you and sitting down in a chair next to yours.
although he adjusts himself to face you, he keeps his distance – legs drawn in under the chair, hands placed carefully on his knees in a way you'd never seen him do before. it feels like the space between the both of you spans for entire oceans and continents, an invisible force field that holds weight against your limbs, keeping you from leaning in, incapable of even moving your fingertips.
"are you sure you're okay?"
he looks at you — his expression soft like wax melting around a candle wick.
"do you…do you remember how you got here?"
you nod, taking a deep breath. "the party?"
"i'm sorry that you're here like this," he says, quietly. "i didn't know you were going to be there, i wasn't trying to corner you, i swear."
you nod, dazed.
"are you upset with me? for bringing you here?" at the conflict in your expression, he adds on, hurriedly, "i-i know it wasn't the best thing to do. i could've called jaemin, or mark, or anyone downstairs…it's just that i didn't know…i didn't know if it would be okay–"
" — i'm not upset," you cut him off, the pressure easing as you raise a hand jerkily to place it over his. "i believe you. thank you for taking care of me last night."
he exhales slowly, and when he speaks he sounds even more troubled than before. "you…you shouldn't thank me. you shouldn't thank me for anything."
his eyes dart over to his little sister, checking in on her, and the sense that you're intruding on something creeps up on you again.
haechan had been right — there was so much of him you didn't know. you hardly recognised the boy sitting beside you, despite a vague sense of comfort and familiarity in the slightest traces of his expression, the look in his eyes, his thumb absentmindedly stroking yours. it scared you.
you withdraw your hand, pushing your chair a little further from his, the scrape of it dissonant in your ears. "so, uh, i'll just wait downstairs for the taxi if you don't feel comfortable —"
"taxi?" he looks at you, confused.
"i…i should go now, right?"
"i wasn't going to ask you to go," he says, his voice small. "i was…i was hoping we could talk."
"talk?" you echo. after weeks of nothing? "now?"
"i mean, not right now-" he glances over at the clock, wincing. "but can you stay today?"
there's a pause. you don't think you've ever been able to read him — you've spent days second-guessing every emotion you thought he had, the meaning behind each expression, whether he ever told the truth. but something about him like this makes you hesitate, made your breath catch in your throat. all the ways you've tried to learn how to be immune to his words and his touch slowly melting away, because that was your defense against the version of haechan you thought you knew before.
"i'll understand if you say no," he says, quietly. "but i have things i need to say to you. please."
you don't know what to do.
"hyuckie?"
you both turn. haechan's baby sister is waddling over, her fist clenched around her hair ties as the last remnants of the french braid unravel from her head. she sniffles. "it fell."
haechan's eyes dart back to you quickly, before refocusing his attention away. "it's okay-" he soothes, taking the hair ties from her as he swipes the pad of his thumb on her cheek, brushing off the teardrops that have begun to spill from her lashes. his lips jut out into a pout, his head tilting to meet her gaze. "let's just tie it up and go to school, hm?"
"but i want it in a braid…"
"i can't finish it in time," he says, gently, touching the strands of her hair. "i'm sorry. i promise, we'll do it next time, okay?"
her lip wobbles. "but…"
"let me help," you say, suddenly.
he turns, round eyes wide. "what?"
"i'll do her hair. you still need to get her things right?"
he nods, a little dazed. "really?"
"i'll stay," you murmur, and you slip the hair ties from his loose fingers and sling them around your wrist. "i need to talk to you too."
you can feel his eyes on you as he coaxes his sister towards you, the girl shyly hiding her face in your hands as you swiftly braid two pigtails down her back. he still watches you out of the corner of his eye as he packs her bag, noting the way you listen to her babble on about her days at the school, the way you help adjust the straps of her backpack onto her tiny frame.
he looks at you like he's never seen you before. you think you know the feeling.
—
the bed dips under his weight as he sits down.
"hey," you hear him murmur, and you stir. his hair falls over his face, and he's changed out of his clothes, and a pair of thick-rimmed glasses perches on his dainty nose. it's foreign, and new…until he pushes back his hair boyishly with an open palm, flicking his head like a puppy after a swim, and the skip in your heartbeat feels all too familiar in your ribcage.
"did you get her to school?"
he nods. "i got us lunch too. and stopped to get groceries." studying your face, he leans in. "i didn't want to wake you up so soon. do you feel better?"
you hum. the morning now seemed like just a dream — haechan and his sister, the breakfast sandwiches. he'd left to walk her to school, telling you to rest in his bed until he got home. now, late afternoon light seeps into the room through the open door, until haechan gets up to close it, once again sealing the room in cozy darkness.
"may i…?" he lifts up the corner of the covers, and you nod, easing yourself to the side as he gets into bed, leaning up against the headboard, his eyes trained on his lap. you lay on your side, that same feeling — as if you couldn't reach out and touch him, as if he existed in a world of his own without you, slowly settling in your body like a familiar ache.
but then there's a shift — and you can feel his gaze warm on your skin. you blink up at him, his pupils focused on yours, pools of the darkest molten brown sucking you into his world. he wets his lips with his tongue nervously, taking a shuddering breath.
"y/n, i'm really sorry."
your heart squeezes a little in your chest. "for?"
"for what i said that night…when i thought…when you didn't show up." he takes another breath. "and for not trusting you, for going to your place after i...." his fists clench the fabrics of the sheets, twisting it in his hands.
you bite your lip. "haechan —"
" — i'm not done." he swallows, voice dipping low. "you were right. i knew you wanted more, i always knew exactly when i hurt you. but i never tried…i never tried to change anything. i'm sorry." his hands reach towards yours for a second, but he hesitates, dropping them back on his lap.
"what would you have changed?" you ask, softly.
"i could have stopped seeing you," he murmurs.
you smile, sadly. "i'm not convinced that would have hurt any less." that was something you knew for sure.
"and i don't think i could have stopped myself," he admits.
"haechan," his eyes move to yours. "why did you invite me?" his breathing picks up, and you want desperately to comfort him, to curl up on his lap and soothe him, but you knew the both of you were afraid of what would happen if you touched. knew the possibility that you'd try to find answers in skin-on-skin, lips-on-lips, and the possibility that it would all be lost in translation again.
"i'm sorry, –" he looks at you sadly. "i think i was just trying to get you to stay. i…" he chews on his lip, glasses sliding a little lower on his slender nose bridge as his head dips. "i regret what i said, but some of it was true. i don't know what i would have done, and i don't think i was ready for…for what you thought it was."
you nod, cheek rubbing against soft sheets, thinking about what he said. "haechan, i don't regret not going. i only wished i'd done it intentionally."
"yeah?" he whispers. the sound sticks in his throat.
"if you hadn't found me yesterday…would you still have looked for me? talked to me? i'm not hurt that you didn't find me sooner-" you cut in, when you see the guilt on his features, the parting of his lips in apology. "time apart….time apart was good. i needed it to clear my head. i….i couldn't stop myself around you."
he doesn't say anything, for a while. "jaemin came over," he says, slowly. "and he said i couldn't talk to you or he would stop working with the band and it was decided for me."
"he what?"
haechan shakes his head. "i don't blame him. i'm not going to pretend that i couldn't have still talked to you if i really wanted to. i'm selfish enough to do that, i'll admit. i didn't reach out because i didn't know what to say, and i didn't know what i wanted."
"and now?"
he closes his eyes. "time apart was good," he murmurs, echoing your words. "it gave me a chance to go back to a time before."
your breath catches.
" — but i couldn't. i don't think i can take it any longer. i missed you, y/n. i miss you now, even as you're here."
"you miss me?"
something bothered you about it, hearing him say those words. when he'd pulled you away repeatedly in the weeks you've known each other, when he came for you time and time again, was that missing you too? were things different now?
"i miss spending time with you," he says, almost timidly. "not just…not just sex. everything. i know it's selfish…" his eyes blink open, and he pushed his glasses up, avoiding your gaze. "i didn't mean to pressure you to come back. you can forget i said that."
he shakes his head, trying to clear it.
"i just wanted to tell you i'm sorry for hurting you."
you'd never dared hope for a real apology from him. some part of you expected, or even secretly wished, he would find you again after that night, lie through his teeth to win you back. and in the weeks that followed, you took his silence to mean he didn't even care enough to do that.
and now here you were, sitting with him. after days and nights, he's had time to really mean his words — he wasn't himself, which is maybe why you believed he was telling the truth.
you think you know now, why he refused to let you in. why he hadn't wanted to take your first time, something so intimate and romantic that it would have pierced right through the layers he'd built up around himself. why he drew away so many nights when your touch lingered on each others' skin, when you wanted him to stay.
"haechan," you say, quietly. "i need you to understand that i…that i've learned how to be hurt by you. i don't want to go back to how we were before."
he nods, quickly. "of course."
"and…you say you knew i wanted more. so you know that i wanted to be with you…romantically, right?"
"i know." the words are so quiet, you barely catch them.
"if…if i come back, i don't think i want that anymore." you say, gentle, but firm. jaemin was right — you couldn't let yourself forget all the ways he hurt you. "i associate us with too much hurt. i can't trust you with my heart, can you understand that?"
there's silence. he's nodding, but when his lips part, he's wordless.
"haechan?"
"i understand," he murmurs. "i'm…i didn't…" he breaks off, fiddling with the covers, lip caught in his teeth. "whatever happens next will only happen on your terms," he says, softly. "i only want to do what you want to do, okay?"
your brow furrows. "but haechan, if you don't feel comfortable with something –"
"i'm fine as long as you still want to see me," he whispers.
"if you don't want to let me in, i won't push anymore." you realize you truly mean it when you make the offer out loud. even if it hurt to know that you may never see him like this again, you press on, jaemin's advice resurfacing in your mind again. "you don't owe me any more of yourself. if you want it to just be sex, we can do that – but you have to commit to it too. so no more getting jealous, or —"
" – that's not possible."
"you're not making any sense." you should've been hurt, but sitting here now — looking at him, the way he melts into his room, fuzzy at the edges, soft curves of his face, you can't feel any of it. finally, you're beginning to see that he's just as lost as you are. his head is still bowed low, taking in every word you say like a weight he carries upon him.
"it's not possible because you already know me. you know enough of me that i couldn't perform with you in the crowd, can't be myself around you at a party. i can't stand there onstage, do things like eyefuck girls and play the guitar and pretend to be someone else, while feeling your eyes on me. you'd see right through me."
he sounds like he's on the verge of tears, his voice achy and raw. and as you look up at him, tears are smudging on his waterline, his cheeks glistening as he sniffles.
"i said i'd be fine with anything," he breathes shakily, as he starts to cry, sharp inhales punctuating his words. "and i am, i really am. i-i'm not in the position to set terms. it's fine if you don't want to know me, but i can't pretend we're just strangers anymore. i won't be able to."
words you'd said to him — you can't think i still want to know you, after everything.
for a moment, you entertain the idea that you've hurt him too.
"i don't think i can pretend either," you murmur. "i hated it when you pretended like you didn't know me. like you'd never seen me before."
i'm s-sorry, he chokes, but the syllables scattered across his sobs. he claps a hand to his mouth as his breathing speeds up even more, tears wetting his shirt, achy sounds muffled against his palm. and finally you sit up, limbs still clumsy and heavy from sleep, and you wrap your arms around him, and arm slung over his chest, another around his waist, just like you wanted to all this time.
his breath shudders against your palms, warm body against your skin. you bury your face in his neck, breathe in the familiar smell of him that changed no matter who he was or whoever he was pretending to be, until his breathing slows and his sobs come to a shaky stop.
"i missed you too, haechan," you breathe. he shakes his head. "i did-" you insist, but he shakes his head again, a hand coming to touch your arm on his waist, squeezing tight.
"not haechan, donghyuck," he whispers.
"donghyuck," you correct, stroking the side of his cheek lovingly, your fingertip stained with his tears. "i missed you."
"i missed you too." he says it like the words are dangerous, hushed and quiet. "are you…are you really coming back to me?"
"do you think we can be friends?" you ask, tentatively. not lovers, not strangers. this was the only in-between you knew that could do justice to the ways you knew each other, the only way you could see yourself holding on to him now.
he looks at you for a long time, until you forget your question. his nose is tinted pink, his eyes still watery as he drowns in his thoughts.
he swallows. "are you sure?" he asks, softly. "your first time being with someone…and it's not even a real relationship."
"you're doing that thing again," you murmur. "where you tell me what's good for me. how i should do things." you soften when you look up, seeing the guilt in his face, as if he had been caught red-handed. "i'm asking you again," you say, slowly. "do you think we can be friends?"
this time, he nods. "yeah," he murmurs. "friends who…"
you nod too, feeling your cheeks burn, and then you lean in — slotting your lips against his.
for a second, he doesn't kiss you back, and your stomach swoops.
but then his mouth is moving against yours, soft and gentle. a close-lipped kiss, just the feeling of his soft lips on yours, the brush of your noses together, your eyes slowly fluttering shut to focus on the feeling. and even though you'd just agreed — even though you were the one who suggested it, a part of you wondered if you could ever only want to be friends with lee donghyuck.
—
you sit at the dinner table, and haechan's entire body aches with a longing that crests over him like a tidal wave, knocking the breath from his lungs.
he recalls the way he'd felt earlier, walking back across the park from the kindergarten, stopping by the grocery store and wandering the brightly-lit aisles, turning over pasta sauce and soup stock in his hands. the knowledge that you were in his home, sleeping, that he would turn the key in the lock and you would be waiting for him — burned down his throat like alcohol, a bonfire in his stomach. it felt like playing pretend. he was afraid to even drive you back to your apartment, to walk you to your door, to look at you too long in the moments after. and yet here he was, tipsy off the sweetness of being able to come home to you.
after the talk, neither of you had gone much further than kissing.
"i missed you so much," he murmurs – his voice crumpling under the weight of his own words.
"do you want to show me?" your tone is lightly teasing, dipping low as you keep your smile on your face. the warmth coursing through your body has nothing to do with the blankets pooling around your thighs, and everything to do with the boy sitting across from you — doll-like legs with miles of silky skin splayed out over the sheets, back slouching against the headboard, all crumpled in and soft and worn.
if you had gone to the bar weeks ago, let him guide you to this home, to this bed, you might already be familiar with this soft mattress in a whole different way.
neither of you can deny the way your minds wander there still, despite everything. him missing your body framed against his, you craving the sink of his chest, the curve of his waist.
there's silence, as his words register in the boy's head, pain flickering over his features. if he was feeling more like himself, he would pulled you in, caged you under him. tugged at that side of you that was always so pliant and easy for him and watched you unravel under his fingertips. the words are on the tip of his tongue — i'll show you. did you miss me too? kiss me. stay with me.
instead, his fingers withdraw, and gently touch the soft cotton of his shirt's hem, warm light flickering in his eyes. "not like this," he murmurs quietly. "not…not now."
you let out a breath, tension dissipating. "yeah," you'd murmured. "you're right."
you'd gone to take a shower while he prepared dinner. there was something terribly domestic about all of it — you padding into the living room again, each fiber of your being smelling so much like him. the way he turned from where he stood guarding the soup bubbling on the stove to see you in one of his shirts, a towel draped over your shoulders. the feelings he hadn't learned to pin down, hadn't had the time to sort, intensified in his chest, an ache lodged inside him.
friends. he'd introduced you to his sister as his friend, watched you braid her hair and laugh with her softly, heard your sweet voice wishing her good luck with school. the nights he'd spent with you by his side — talking about the band, about his tattoos. asking about how he did during the show, seeking your praise, wanting to know so badly how he appeared in your eyes. the way you somehow reached right through him and made him listen, made him stop. was that friendship?
now with all the plates cleared and washed, the sounds of your clothes tumbling in his washing machine in the background, the smell of black nail polish prickled his nose as you leaned over. your fingers brushing his, holding them in place.
"should i make it a little messy?" your voice is light.
"it's usually messy because i get my sister to do it," he tells you, softly. "you don't have to mimic how it looks."
you nod, a small smile on your face as you dip the brush back in the bottle. there's silence, for a while, as he watches you, studying the way you look with your head bowed, feeling each careful touch of your fingers, and then —
"do you want to talk about rules now?"
you look up at him just briefly before going back to the task. he swallows.
"sure."
another pause. and then quietly, "you can't get jealous anymore, you know that right?"
"i know," he murmurs. "you told me to stop before…but i didn't. i'm sorry."
you nod. "you can't be possessive of me, either."
he hesitates. "so…no marking?"
slowly, you let go of his left hand. "you can still leave hickeys and bruises," you mumble. "just don't…don't call me yours you know?"
he didn't know if he could do that. "okay," he says, softly. "i'll try." and then, slowly and carefully, he asks, "are you going to keep coming to our shows?"
the slide drag of the brush on his nail stops. "do you want me to?"
he bites his lip. "i want you there," he says, slowly. "but i don't know if i'll be okay with having you in the crowd."
"oh."
"maybe you can watch from backstage. or the wings. i want you to," he adds, when you look troubled. "please."
"are we still a secret?"
his lips part. he wanted to say yes — but it was the way you'd asked it, like it was something you feared, that made him hesitate.
"because," you continue. "it didn't feel good, keeping it from jaemin. and as i said, i hated it when you pretended we were strangers."
he felt your hands leave his, capping the bottle of nail polish as you leaned back in your chair, tucking your knees to your chest. he keeps his hands splayed on the table, taking a deep breath.
"no more secrets," he agrees. "and stop going to those parties, y/n. if you want to see me, just tell me."
you raise your eyebrows. "we're not exclusive," you point out, slowly. "i don't go to the parties just for you. haechan, if you don't think you can do this…"
"i can," he says, hurriedly. "i'm sorry. if i see you at a party…i'll say you're my friend. i'm sorry, it's just that i…i'm just…."
"it's okay." giving him a small smile, you get to your feet, shuffling over to the kitchen. you don't hear him come closer as you fill up a glass of water on the kitchen, only know of his presence as his hand touches your shoulder carefully.
"don't go," he murmurs. his arms slide around your body, gently pulling you towards him, and you turn slightly so you can see his face.
"i'm still here," you respond, softly.
but he shakes his head. "don't go."
you turn around in his arms and your lips brush, his own parting against yours, seeking permission. all the time he wonders when he'll stop kissing you like he's swearing an oath — devoted in the way he wraps his lips around yours, patient and true in the way his tongue moves against yours, and even now, something loving in the way he murmurs your name into the cavern of your mouth. his hands move carefully on your skin, nail polish still drying on his fingertips, and if either of you question the way you kiss, you keep it to yourselves.
—
it's different, watching haechan perform, when he's not performing for you.
you saw the way his eyes flitted through the crowd, making and breaking eye contact so fast it was hard to keep track of, each twitch of his expression rehearsed and calculated. a teasing part of his lips, sinful face fluttery and slack as the music crashed all around him, like he could physically feel it. he was right — you didn't see him the same. you knew it was the performance, that he was really the one trying to please the crowd, riding off the pleasure of attention. but despite seeing through it as he had said, it still had you feeling tightly wound inside, pressure building up inside you, a craving for his touch intensifying with each time his hips shifted against his guitar.
and even worse was the way your heartbeat would trip over itself every time haechan's eyes flickered over to you. never during a song, but in the moments between — mark's voice speaking through the mic, the rest of the boys checking on their instruments or interacting with the crowd. he would look over at you briefly, almost shyly, his heart-shaped lips creasing into a smile.
"friends?"
the moment you'd arrived home, you had pleaded with jaemin not to be upset with haechan, but it turned out you didn't need to. haechan had left a message the night of the party, and when you'd walked in looking more well rested and collected than you'd had in days, jaemin knew that you had been safe. you'd reassured him too, when he asked if keeping you from him only made things worse. both of you had needed that time to come to this conclusion. only time would tell if it was the right one.
"so you're going to be friends with benefits?" jaemin raised his eyebrows. "was this his idea or yours?"
"mine," you mumble. feeling the need to defend yourself, you raise your voice just slightly. "i just think that…i want to keep seeing him, and i want to get to know him…but i don't want him in that way. anymore," you add, when jaemin bites his lip.
"did you really lose feelings, or are you just not ready?" he asks, quietly.
you force a laugh out of your chest. "you think i'd still have feelings for someone who hurt me that much?" you try to say it sarcastically, but you don't have the heart to. the words have no bite, and instead truth echoes in the spaces between.
"that's not the worst thing in the world, y/n." his voice is steady, and calm. "it's okay to take your time. if you remember that lying to yourself will only hurt more."
but there are things to soothe the ache.
"did you like the show?"
haechan roughly tugs off his jacket, letting it slump off his shoulders and onto the floor. the moment the last song ended he'd rushed off stage and right to you, eyes blazing under his heavy makeup, the both of you stumbling into one of the small storerooms backstage.
a single small lightbulb barely illuminates the small space, bathing you in warm light and shadow. shelves of boxes line most of the walls, except for a sliver of space that currently presses against your back, your fingers touching the cold surface.
"it was good," you murmur.
"yeah?"
he's still hungry for more. you can see it in his eyes — for all his good girls and you're perfect, you knew he craved to be adored too.
"you were right," you say, softly. "it feels different, watching as your friend."
his smile falters.
"i…i like it more," you continue. "being in the wings…makes me want to get your attention."
"you have my attention now, princess," he points out. he touches a hand to your waist.
it's almost scary, how you slip back into old patterns. a heady rush filling your senses, slowly dragging you under. this is why i couldn't stop, you think, as he leans in ever closer, his eyes glazed over as his gaze slides to your lips.
there's a beat.
"i forgot to ask," he mumbles. "no possessiveness right?"
your mind clears, just a bit. you nod, breathlessly.
"what else?" he asks. looking at you, timidly, he asks. "can i…are pet names okay? can i still call you baby?"
"baby's fine," you whisper.
"princess?"
"hmm?"
"no," he smiles fondly at you. "i was asking if calling you princess was okay."
you want to bury your face in your hands. or his chest. "princess is fine."
his smile grows wider, before he suddenly turns serious again. "are we starting anew?" he asks, hesitantly. "can i…can i bring up things from before? or are we pretending that this is our first time…"
"no more pretending," you murmur, feeling like a hypocrite. "why? did you want to bring up something?"
"kind of," he nods towards the door. "just thought you're going to love this," he says, slyly. "hearing stage crew and bandmates walking by, knowing that at any point someone could hear us, someone could come in…"
and now you do bury your face in your hands, and when he reaches around to hug you, you lean against his chest, feeling his laugh vibrate against you, feeling you with warmth.
"it's okay," he murmurs, as his hands slide down to squeeze your waist. "i won't play with them this time, baby. today's all about you, hm?"
his hands falter, perhaps realizing the words were too tender, a little too loving for what you both claimed this would be.
"lets try not to do anything…romantic?" you mumble.
you regret the words as soon as you say them, your teeth biting into your lip sharply.
haechan's face has shuttered down. you can't read his expression, as he nods, taking your hands in his and kissing them.
"please." you look at him, this time taking the dive, feeling yourself free-falling towards that familiar desire, letting the current swallow you whole. "i need you."
in spite of everything, haechan's lips are as gentle as they've always been.
his lips brush yours, once, twice, before he locks in his kiss, hands trembling slightly as he touches the side of your face, cups you in his palms. you want to ask him what's wrong, pulling away slightly, but he makes a wounded sound from the back of his throat, pressing you against the wall, his head dipping to kiss you fiercely. his tongue slides against yours, and he groans low against your lips.
your hands fumble on his shirt, skimming his broad shoulders, strong arms. he pants into your mouth when your drag your nails down his chest, breaking away. tugging his shirt roughly over his head, he grabs your hands and places them on his chest before leaning in to kiss you again, this time working his way down your neck, his wet kisses making your body shudder as you cling onto him for support.
"please," you murmur, wondering why he was staying so silent. "please-"
but he shakes his head, fingers tracing your jaw, tilting your head up so he lap his tongue over a newly formed bruise. the room is silent save for the sound of his lips, but you crave his voice, his words guiding you through everything, the lilting cadence of it.
"haechan-" a foreign feeling spikes in your stomach as he ignores you, continuing to kiss his way down to your collarbones, fingers tugging your collar wide open. it felt like he wasn't there at all.
he breathes heavy against your skin as he curls his hands around your hips, holding on tight. still he doesn't say a word, or even make a sound, as his caress the back of your thighs.
"stop-" you blurt out. roughly, you take his hands in yours, gripping them by the wrists.
he lifts his head.
"haechan," you start, but he just looks at you. your heart squeezes painfully in your chest.
"haechan, you're scaring me." your voice is panicked and tight, the tension so overwhelming that tears begin to blur your vision, your chest rising and falling faster.
"baby?" he asks, alarmed. "what's wrong?"
"please talk to me," you beg, wiping away the tears on your cheek. the ache has soothed slightly at his voice, but you need more. "why…why aren't you talking? you always…you always used to-"
"i'm sorry," he whispers, pulling your body into his, wrapping his bare arms around you. "i'm here," he soothes, in your ear. "i'm here," he mumbles again, and again, until your breathing calms down.
"i'm sorry," he repeats, kissing you softly. "i'm here now, baby, okay?"
you nod, and now you guide his hands to your thighs, feel the way his breathing hitches.
"can i…?"
"please," you say, breathlessly, and his hand cups your warm core.
"fuck," he blurts out. you were so warm, the seat of your panties completely soaked through. he slides them to the side with nimble fingers, inhaling sharply as he strokes your folds.
"how are you so wet? fuck-"
"take them off," you plead, the fabric sticking uncomfortably to your skin. immediately, he tugs your panties and skirt down roughly, almost frustrated, barely waiting for you to step out of them before encouraging you to spread your legs wider as he strokes you, fingers dipping to catch at your entrance, your swollen clit.
"so fucking wet," he marvels, groaning slightly as he swipes his fingers softly .
"from watching you perform," you say, softly.
the words send pleasure thrumming low in his navel. "yeah?" he murmurs, eyes meeting yours.
slowly, he drops to his knees, and suddenly you feel hypersensitive — his breath on your thighs, hands gripping you tightly. he suckles a kiss close to your core, and you whine, loudly, the sound too loud in the small space.
he looks up at you, sultry eyes framed in dark eyeliner. "let me hear you, baby," he coaxes, easing your legs open. he sticks out the tip of his tongue, and gives your clit a gentle flick, your hips bucking into his face before you can stop yourself. "i've been dreaming about this," he sighs, before he closes in and suckles on your clit.
he lapped at you like all he'd done in your days apart was think about how best to do it — alternating between suckling on your clit, licking your folds with his tongue wide and flat, and prodding at your entrance. one hand keeping you pressed against the wall, his other slips around your entrance, sliding in one long finger, the way your walls suck him in making him moan, vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. you can feel the jut of his finger joints, the pad of his finger curling against your walls, while his tongue focuses on your clit, drawing shapes and letters expertly.
you slump further against the wall, the pleasure making your legs shake, unable to hold yourself up, your hands tangled in his hair, knotting them around your fingers.
"i can't stand-" you're cut off by a moan, as he bites into your thigh, licking up the wetness that stains them, a mix of your arousal and his saliva. "please," you wish you were on a bed, wish both of you had had more patience to go somewhere and do this right, feel the whole weight of his body on yours.
"cum," he pants, sucking on your clit with his plush lips as he coaxes another finger into your warm, now mimicking a vibrating motion with his hand as he pushes in hard and fast. he doesn't break away even as he moans out, now curling his fingers languidly against your walls. "fuck, baby, i need you to cum now because i can't wait any longer-"
his tongue presses onto your clit, and the pressure pushes you overboard. his hand the only thing keeping you upright, pushing roughly into you, he eats you out until your orgasm is over, kitten licking your clit as his head moves this way and that. you open your eyes and see him staring right at you, desire pulsing in his pupils, eyes blown out and dark.
"good?" he breathes, both hands now gripping you tight. you nod, swallowing and gasping. his face is smeared with you, mouth and nose shining and glossy. he licks around his lips, mouth hanging open as his eyes glint.
"more?" he asks, and you nod, gasping, falling to your knees. now, you're finally able to touch him, as your body crashes into his, causing him to nearly tip over from how he kneels, sitting back on his ankles to draw you into him. you kiss him deeply, letting his lips wrap around your tongue just the way you loved it, feel his hum vibrate against your own chest.
his hands ghost under your shirt, and you help him pull it off, his hands cupping your breasts with his familiar touch, sucking kisses down your cleavage as you gasp for air. his hands roam your body indulgently, as if he was afraid you'd dissolve if he wasn't mapping your skin with his palms, his tongue, his lips. one hand trailing up and down your back, unclasping your bra, while the other squeezes the back of your thighs, resting his hand on your ass.
he suckles on your nipples like he had all the time in the world, as if you weren't in a cramped store room feeling as if you were about to explode from his touch alone. gentle tongue drawing circles around the bud, eyes staring up at yours with devotion. your hips move against his, and his eyes flutter shut as he sighs, his hips starting to grind up against you as well.
"turn around," he mumbles. "now, princess."
"i want to see you," you protest, hands gripping onto his arms as he slowly walks forward on his knees, pushing you towards the wall.
"i'm sorry, baby-" he kisses you, placatory and sweet. "we'll go again in my bedroom later, okay? need you like this now."
you let him maneuver you until you're facing the wall, legs spread apart as he kneels in between. trying to soothe you, he rubs a hand over your stomach, reminding you of his presence the entire time he rids himself of his jeans and underwear, rolling on a condom, tension building with every small sound, until you can feel something thick and heavy press between your legs.
"haechan-" you pant, your back arching just slightly as you lean towards the wall for support, feeling his hand squeeze your hip.
"i know," he mumbles, making slight shushing sounds as he eases himself against you. "i know, baby."
even though he was behind you, you knew the face he would make as you felt his tip slowly push past your entrance, the way his eyebrows would float upwards as his eyes went unfocused, lips parting in a lovely 'ah- ah' that he tried hard to contain behind hisses and bitten lips. part of you still wants to see it, but all thoughts are lost as he fully sheaths himself into you, feeling him deep inside from the position. his hand on your hip creeps over to your navel, and he pushes gently over where he was buried inside you, the pressure somehow intensifying as you feel full from all sides.
slowly, his body presses you further into the wall, and you gasp as the cool surface brushes your chest. he kisses the nape of your neck, and your body trembles, shifting against him and whining as you clench around him from sensitivity. behind you, haechan mumbles out a string of curses, hips jolting forward unsteadily before he stops himself.
"please move," you whisper, and he moans, finally thrusting into you. he finds a rhythm that's slow and deep, feeling full and stretched out each time you throb around him. a particularly harsh thrust has you whining, your hips tilting towards the wall, trying to get away, but suddenly the solid weight of his body presses against you ever harsher as he rolls his hips, his chest pressed to your back. he feels stronger, and sturdier than he ever did before, as a hand creeps down to your clit and begins to rub slow and lazy circles, his body attuned to yours. you jolt away from the simulation, ass suddenly jolting back against his length, making you cry out again, sandwiched between pleasure.
"don't run from it," he coaxes. "just take it, hm?"
you had nowhere to go as he fucks himself into you, wet sounds filling the small space, and you're sure the floor is wet with your arousal, can feel your next climax approaching fast, making you forget about the ache in your knees and in the way your head pressed against the hard wall. you begin to shake in his hold, trying to fuck yourself back on his cock while he bullies your clit relentlessly, but once again his chest presses into you, strong arms holding you firmly in place as he overflows your body with pleasure, a hand slowly grasping yours and squeezing.
"i missed you, baby," he says, quietly, voice surprisingly steady despite the way he was ramming into you. "i really missed you." his lips brush the shell of your ear.
you cum unexpectedly, crying out, squeezing tight around him as all the muscles in your body tense. your hand squeezes tight around his as the other rubs quick circles on your clit, working you through your orgasm. you can feel him still behind you as he cums too, whining in a pitch and tone you'd never heard from him before, desperate and achy as you clench around him again from the sound, so sensual that it rekindles a fire inside you despite the soreness in all your limbs.
your weak hands fumble against him, scrabbling against his strong grip. he pulls out with a hiss, helping you turn around to face him. in the semi-darkness, you can see the concern pooling in his eyes, bright and scared.
"was it too rough?" he asks, breathlessly. his hands skim your frame, pulling you onto his lap.
you shake your head, nuzzling into him. you're torn between watching that silvery glow in his eyes, makeup smudged around all his corners, and burying yourself deep inside his chest until you can feel his heartbeat on your cheek.
"baby? are you alright?" he rubs gentle circles on your back, as you nod. "use your words, please," he says, softly.
"you got stronger," you blurt out.
"did i hurt you?" he moves against you, something protective in the way he holds you that makes your body sing with warmth.
"no," you say shyly. "i loved it."
you lift your head just quick enough to catch the way his face crumples. before you can ask, he leans in and he's kissing you again — soft, gentle, sweet and almost shy. when you part, he looks dazed, eyes drifting down to your lips and wandering back up to your eyes.
"you deserve better," he says, quietly.
he looks down, at the way you're sitting in his lap, and then tilts his head sharply to look around the store room, as if he meant you deserved better than this for your first time back with him. as if this was about sex at all.
you take a deep breath, and shake your head. "haechan, you're exactly what i deserve."
the name rings out in the space. it seems to ground him, and he shakes his head to clear it, slowly untangling himself from you as he gets ready to help you up.
you swallow. "take me home," you tell him. "take care of me."
he does exactly as you say.
—
attention simmers on your skin, a palpable heat you're unable to shake.
girls circle the kitchen island like sharks, eyes glinting under the fluorescent lights, but they're never able to come close as it's so clear haechan's focus is entirely on you. haechan's back is turned to the party as he sits on the counter, long legs spilling over and the muscles in his thick thighs accentuated by the way he sits, denim stretched tight and each gaping hole making you doubt your decision to come to the party here, instead of going over to his home.
it was his party, and he should go. the fans would be upset if he didn't at least show. now you were seriously regretting it, as you ducked your head to avoid the glare of another crowd as they passed by, while haechan knocked back another drink.
he had been alight with energy ever since the show ended — agreeing amiably when you suggested going to the party, his smile only wavering when you reminded him he couldn't get jealous. and while your eyes wandered around the party, drinking in the scenes you hadn't seen in awhile, he was doing everything in his power to keep your attention on him, camera strap hanging from his neck as he clicked through the photos, pointing out the parts where jaemin had helped him, explaining the stories behind the pictures.
"i didn't know you were into photography." it's a stupid statement, that you want to retract immediately. of course you didn't – you didn't know much about him at all. but it makes him smile a little proudly, clicking on the dial to speed through the photos.
"yeah well, i've never taken a photo of you." he mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck. "i know for sure because when we…you know…when we weren't seeing each other, and i missed you…" his cheeks are burning up, his mouth barely moving as he tries to fumble through the rest of the sentence, plush lips swallowing his words. "i couldn't find any photos of you. on my camera or in my phone or…" he trails off.
your heart thrums harder in your chest. "yeah?"
"do…do you have photos of me?" he asks. timidly, softly. his eyes trained on his camera, unseeing, breath held in his chest waiting for your answer.
"of course i do," you murmur. you hope he can hear the smile in your voice, know that it's for him. "rockstar."
his fingers twitch, and he looks up at you, a searing intensity in his eyes that wasn't there before, flames licking at your cheeks as you hold his gaze, a warmth that sparks down your spine like fireworks. the sounds of the party fade away, sealing you in the vacuum of his attention.
"y/n," his voice drops an octave, all the softness drained out of it.
"haechan?"
"let me take a photo of you," he murmurs. "please."
"now?"
"no, not now," he says, slowly. "you know what i mean, princess."
but you never get to clarify, because someone taps you lightly on the shoulder. haechan's eyes flicker behind you, all the intensity faded out, and it feels like your lungs fill with air again as you turn to see jisung, holding two cups in his hands, one of which he's holding out to you.
you're torn between crushing guilt, and relief that he doesn't hate you.
"j-jisung," you splutter. "jisung, hi."
"hi, y/n." he smiles, nudging the cup towards you again, and you take it. almost against your will, your eyes dart over to haechan, but his face is impassive and neutral, camera laying forgotten on his lap as he turns quickly to survey the party behind him. was he trying to offer you privacy, or was he upset?
you sip from the drink, trying not to make a face at the overwhelming sweetness that floods your tastebuds. the boy had barely put any alcohol in it. your hand almost inches towards the cup haechan made for you, wanting to balance out the taste, before you stop yourself.
you didn't want to hurt his feelings again.
"it's been a while," you say, sheepishly. "and again, i'm really sorry about last time."
"it's okay," he says, cheerfully. "haechan already apologised. besides, you can make it up to me on our date."
jisung's words have a physical effect on haechan. you feel him tense up behind you, body going stiff as he turns back to watch you, eyes trained on the side of your face.
"you still owe me a date." you don't know if it's determination, or sheer recklessness, that inspired jisung to say this to you as you stood in the kitchen with haechan just inches away, the side of his thigh still brushing your waist. "are you free tomorrow night?"
you try your best not to look at haechan. he had no right to care, you didn't owe him anything. you didn't know what you wanted to see on his face either way — whether his jealousy would make you angry, whether his sadness would hurt you instead.
"i am," you agree, hesitantly, and jisung's close-lipped smile blooms.
—
"you know there are other boys out there right? that there's a world beyond the band?"
"shut up, jaemin," you mumble, checking your reflection in the dressing room mirror one last time.
"this is good for you." his tone has changed, as he leans against the locked door. "jisung is nice. i hope it works out."
tonight's show had been different. jaemin had reluctantly confirmed that it wasn't just your imagination — the way haechan was quieter throughout, more self-conscious in his performance, eyes barely scanning the crowd, taking longer glances at you throughout the show. jisung's confidence, on the other hand, poured off him in waves, his jacket unzipped, gums showing as he smiled wide.
"i know." you sling your bag across your body, adjusting your skirt, as you turn to face him, taking a deep breath. "i'm really giving him a chance, jaemin. i'm…i'm taking this seriously, even if you don't believe me." it wasn't a lie. you barely knew anything about jisung, and jisung barely knew anything about you — but he was always sincere and sweet, quietly brave under his shyness. you couldn't forget the way he looked at you even with haechan by your side. it made you want to give him a chance too.
"i believe you," he reassures. "good luck, okay?" the door unlatches with a small click, and he gives you one last wave before heading out into the corridor.
your eyes dart back to your reflection one last time before you turn back, satisfied with your appearance, and start towards the door. you barely take a step before there's a creak, and you think it's jaemin coming back, or perhaps jisung, wondering why you took so long.
but of course, things are never easy.
a familiar face enters the room, pushing the door open wide. he doesn't bother to close it, just takes you in for a second — eyes sweeping your frame, taking in your jewelry, the hints of makeup on your skin, your clothes, your neat hair. dejavu crawls over your skin, remembering the first time you'd met jisung, the way haechan had cornered you in the dressing room after, too. you tense your shoulders, preparing for the fight.
"you look nice," he says, quietly.
your lips part. "haechan-"
but before you can speak, he's blurting out his next words. "j-jisung's going to love it," he stammers out, shadows flickering in his gaze as he swallows, throat bobbing. "i… i just came here to say good luck." at your surprised expression, his lips curve up into a sad smile. "that…that's what friends do, right?"
"yeah." your hands grip onto the sling of your bag tightly, afraid of what your hands would do if you let go.
"i'm going to go now," he mumbles. "i…have fun, y/n."
there isn't a trace of sarcasm in his tone, his eyes soft and fond. he leaves before you can say another word, not closing the door behind him. you can hear his boots all the way down the corridor, can hear him disappear up the stairs.
you try not to think about his voice, as you take the back exit out of the venue, see jisung standing in the warm summer night, smiling under a streetlight. try not to dwell on the fact that haechan might have actually wished the best for you – no more layers of pretense under pretense, no more feelings without reason.
it's easier said than done.
—
two hours pass, your food gone from your plates, only the dregs of your drinks left in their glasses, before jisung finally clears his throat.
"this isn't working out, is it?"
"i'm sorry," you say, biting your lip. you'd walked to see a movie, something jisung had picked out, but had been mind-numbingly dull to you. you settled to watch his reactions instead, the way his hands flew over his eyes at the more intense scenes, the way he bit down on his fingers when the tension spiked. it was cute, but less so when he started asking you questions about the movie, and you had to admit you didn't remember any part of the plot past the first 20 minutes.
late night dinner hadn't been better, each topic running itself to the ground quickly, your opinions and lack of opinions causing each conversation to crash to an uncomfortable halt. good things take time, had been jaemin's text to you when you asked for help. you were sure that jisung and you weren't acting like your true selves, the prospect of the date altering the way you talked and responded to each other, until you'd finally come to the conclusion that perhaps you just weren't compatible.
"i really thought this would work out," jisung says, a tinge of sadness coloring his words.
"i wanted it to," you confess. selfishly, you had almost been excited at the prospect of things working out with jisung — needing confirmation that you could still feel for others. excited for the date leading to the next, to fall in love with surety.
excited to find the first relationship, the first 'you and i' that haechan seemed to think you deserved.
"it's okay," jisung reaches out, pats your hand clumsily, shyly, as if surprised that reaching towards you meant he actually got to touch you "i didn't know much about you when i asked you out, anyway. just thought you were really pretty." he looks mortified again, and it makes you laugh — everything about him still endearing.
"do you want to just be friends?" you ask, gently.
it's like a weight lifts from the conversation, and he sighs, relieved. "yeah," he echoes. "friends."
the silence that follows is a lot more peaceful. jisung slumps slightly in his seat, like the tension has left his body. his deep voice somehow still manages to sound timid when he speaks up next.
"since we're friends…"
you nod, encouragingly, taking a last sip of your drink.
"can i ask…do you like haechan?"
you nearly choke. jisung was looking at you carefully, although he smiled at the expression on your face.
"a-are you sure you want to talk about this?' you stammer.
he shrugs, but there's something unreadable in his expression. "i'll always be curious about it, and i guess this is my chance to ask."
you don't have the heart to answer him directly.
"i…i used to," you say, slowly. "but that was when i didn't know him."
"know him?" he asks, confused.
you nod. "yeah. i didn't really know him as a person….just…knew the performance, i guess."
jisung still looks confused, but he nods along. "well, do you know him now?"
you think of the sunlight in his living room. the faint dimple on his cheek as he showed you a photo of his sister running towards the camera, her face alight as she called out for her big brother. his arms around you in the kitchen, as he asked you to stay. the slope of his neck as he turns towards you at the end of a song — the fading sound of his guitar as his eyes sought yours.
"maybe," you say, softly.
"and?" jisung prompts. "could you like him now?"
you don't answer him aloud, but your unspoken words ring in your head.
—
it's different this time, haechan tells himself, as he grips his phone in his hands.
it's different this time, because he knew where you were. he knew why you weren't calling.
he slumps back against his bed, his body heavy with alcohol but his mind racing wild, each thought outpacing the next.
the apartment was silent and empty. both jeno and mark were gone for the night. haechan hadn't bothered to go to the party, knowing that he would feel jisung's absence like a pain lodged in his ribs. he wonders if jisung will bring you home, here, whether you'd let him, even if he knew jisung wasn't the type of boy to go further than hand-holding on the first date. he thinks of it anyway — of hearing your sounds through his bedroom wall. whether it would make you needier to know haechan was listening.
he feels like a loser. he's never felt more uncomfortable in his own skin, more unclean, more ashamed. but then again, there's no one around to know, as he lets his mind wander a little farther, away from you and jisung, away from his phone, sinking deep into the last time he'd touched your skin, images and sensations jumping out eagerly at him when he closed his eyes. flicks through moments that caused a heat to lick down his spine, the familiar hum of pleasure buzzing low in his navel — your legs on his shoulders, your hands in his hair. your taste, the patterns he would draw on your body so you'd shake just the way he liked, the spot on your neck he could kitten-lick to feel you tense up all around him.
that night, even after he'd fucked you in the store room, you had been insatiable.
he'd tried to touch you like the other girls he used to play with — never speaking much, preferring to use his mouth for other things, let their own imaginations run wild with what he could be thinking behind his hooded eyes. he'd taken you with your face turned away from him, pleasure without intimacy, sucking bruises as a keepsake for you after the night ended, not as if you were his to keep or to lose.
let's try not to do anything romantic.
but then you'd begged him to talk to you. told him to take you home. he'd hated it — hated the way you folded for him, like someone had given him powers he couldn't help abuse. do you know how tender this is for me? he'd wanted to ask, as he was touching you again in his sheets back home, racing to meet your every demand before you asked for it.
your legs parted for him as he entered you, trying to keep his eyes open through the pleasure to watch your every expression, the look he'd been dying to see — your eyelashes fluttering, lips parted silently, the sharp gasp as he found your soft spot, your hands scrabbling against his skin. he held your gaze even as he let you wrap your legs around his waist, ankles locked in a sweetheart's cross behind him as he pushed your legs even higher, letting him in deeper. he'd never imagined himself with anyone like this before — a position so full of love and closeness, feeling your body and ripple against his, leaning in to kiss your lips softly, kiss away your desperation.
he'd almost gone crazy when you found your voice amidst all the pleasure.
"donghyuck," you'd breathed, saying the name like a prayer. "feels so good."
he had stilled, slowing to a stop, even though he was painfully hard in you. his heart racing in his chest, pounding so hard he felt like it was about to burst out of his chest.
"you," you mumbled, slowly grinding your hips against him. "you make me feel so good, 's like no one else-"
"yeah?" he picks up the pace again, tilting your body at an angle now so he could go even deeper, watches the way your face changes. he was the one who pulled that sound from your chest — sated but desperate at the same time, needy but satisfied. "i make you feel this good, right? i'm good for you, everything's for you-" he babbled, not making sense to even himself, your praise burying itself deep inside him like a siren song.
you'd choked out more praises, pretty words tumbling from your parted lips, your eyes never leaving his.
"more, hyuck-" you pulled at him, nails scratching down his back. "hyuck-"
it's like he can hear your voice, as his hand slides down to his hip, down to his leaking cock.
he jerks himself off like that — to the images of you pressed under him, your voice calling his name. he does it fast, with no finesse — tugging roughly, the slide too dry, but he doesn't care about drawing out the pleasure, doesn't think it matters if you're not here with him.
he feels even filthier after he finishes — peeling off his soiled shirt, as he stumbles to the bathroom. he knows he won't hear from you tonight, that you wouldn't do that to jisung, but still he keeps his phone unlocked with the ringer on next to his bed as he lays down again.
maybe he would wake up, and you would tell him he could never see you or touch you again. his mind wanders in another direction now, away from your body, away from pleasure — to the ways you made his heart squeeze tight in his chest. when you said his name. when you'd comforted him as he was crying, the kindness in your eyes despite all the ways he hurt you. sitting on the kitchen counter, thinking of ways to keep you with him as your eyes wandered off. look at me, he'd wanted to beg. think of me. just me.
he goes to sleep thinking about how this could be the last night before you'd really only exist in memory and fantasy, before everything changes.
@neochan, @ahncosette, @18shy @kittydollzz @jenoslutie @pussymode @yyfka @cheolctrl @jaeminsballs @mysummerhyuck @strawberrytyong @rosiejunnie @nctzen4eva @haechskies @wickedrei @sundamariis @liliansun @lanadreamie @nodisdino @angelwonie @foxydumps @manooffline @moonsmias @skzct7 @iscocohere @ficrecnctskz @makiswrld @itskkung @simpforarmihn @aryraaaa @rbf-aceu @laubyrinthine @yujuvly @nctevia @hyuckenjoyer @guhhfgbbj @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @kasperneo @eneiyri @toroufriteh @cauliephays @jisoung @niinjo @wonaoi @yuskitty @strawbabyz @readingisgodly @daegalfangirl @minkyuncutie @feat-sun @chaoticstrawberryland @shawnyle @sofix-hc7 @scftharu @spageddy @adorejaehyn @manooffline @02mrk @tyongspice1 @runahways @neosdaisy @hotmessexpress35
#haechan smut#fic: rockstar haechan#haechan angst#haechan fluff#haechan au#haechan x reader#nct dream smut#nct dream angst#nct smut#nct angst#haechan scenario#nct 127 smut#nct 127 angst#donghyuck smut
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Hi fave can I request either the dreams or reader texting “so what position are y’all in rn?” After not getting a reply in about an hour? I feel like haechan’s reaction would be so funny
“what position are y’all in?”
hope you like !!! <3
#nct dream#nct fanfic#nct scenarios#nct drabbles#nct#nct fake texts#nct imagines#nct texts#nct x reader#nct fluff#nct fic#nct ff#nct fics#nct fic recs#nct social au#nct mark#nct renjun#nct jeno#nct donghyuck#nct jaemin#nct chenle#nct jisung#mark lee#huang renjun#lee jeno#na jaemin#lee donghyuck#zhong chenle#park jisung#nct x yn
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how dreamies would react to your first kiss
PAIRING ▸ bestfriend/friend!dreamies x reader
TAGS ▸ none, enjoy the fluff <3
AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ requested by anon! reader + dreamies aren't in established relationship yet.
Mark Lee
Mark’s first kiss with you happens by accident. You were both hanging out in his place together, playing video games. Exhausted, you decided to rest your head on his shoulder, creating very little distance between your faces. So Mark gave into his internal instincts, placing his lips directly on yours, startling both you and himself, “Oh, I’m so sorry that is totally my fault… umm…” He quickly pulls away, embarrassed, but instead of being mad, you stare at him dead serious, “Mark Lee. Shut up and do that again.” His eyes widen at your words, but his face slowly relaxes into a bright smile. He gladly complies with your request, more than once.
Huang Renjun
Renjun had invited you out to his favorite cafe. You two were having such a fun time, before Renjun noticed a couple of crumbs near your lips. He inched a bit closer, squinted, and used his fingers to swipe them off. It was now or never. With your faces so close together, you had to take this chance. Taking a deep breath, you grab his face and lean in for the kiss. Renjun was expecting this however, and he reacted to the kiss immediately closing his eyes. When you finally pulled apart he stared at you breathlessly, “Did I tell you, that you’re beautiful?” His soft hands reach up to gently cup your cheek with the sweetest smile you had ever seen. God how you loved his smiles.
Lee Jeno
Jeno found himself in a quite embarrassing and stressful situation. He had taken you to the carnival, since none of your other friends wanted to go. In the blink of an eye you found yourselves on the ferris wheel. You sat together, no words being said, but the discomfort on his face was obvious. You grabbed his hand and gently squeezed it. Jeno looked down at you from the corners of his eyes, he smiled. "Are you nervous?" You asked him. Jeno nodded, feeling the embarrassment rushing to his cheeks. You pulled him in close, “Just focus on me, instead.” You both leaned in for the kiss, drunk on the smell of one another. When you two finally pulled apart, Jeno looked into your eyes sparkling. If this was what heaven felt like, he would be perfectly content to remain here forever.
Lee Donghyuck
Haechan was shocked. Not only had you repeatedly denied his affections for the past year, but you had also managed to evade his playful kisses as well. Then you did it yourself. It came at him out of nowhere, and he had little time to react. “You kissed me.” He paused, then repeated again, “You kissed me?” He stared at you in disbelief. You only grinned in response, giggling at his confusion. “Does this mean…?” Haechan looked at you nervously, but then his face eased after he saw your smile. He pointed to his lips, puckering them up, and leaning in once more, eyeing you with puppy dog eyes, “Again?” (his kiss was once again rejected.)
Na Jaemin
Jaemin had been waiting patiently for you to make a move on him. You two had been spending more time together than usual, and he hoped that the feeling was mutual, but didn’t want to make any assumptions. Then one day, Jaemin watched as you plopped yourself in front of him, stood up on your tippy-toes, and placed a quick and soft cheek on his lips. He returned the kiss, but not before wrapping his hands around your waist, and picking you up in a swift motion. You found yourself making a fuss and squirming around in his arms, but Jaemin ignored all your protests, placing butterfly kisses on your face, until his lips met yours in another, this time, soft and meaningful kiss.
Zhong Chenle
Chenle and you always bickered. You hated how arrogant he was at times. As much as you sometimes hated his guts, you couldn’t help but begin to start seeing the crazy tension you two had when arguing. Sometimes you just wanted to silence that loud mouth of his. That handsome, sometimes endearing, sometimes cocky grin. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. “If you hadn’t- mmh…?” You grabbed Chenle’s collar pulling him in quickly, and pressed your lips over his, silencing his protests. His eyes lit up in surprise, but you could feel his lips slowly turn into a smirk, as he kissed you back. “Took you long enough.”
Park Jisung
Jisung was comforting you, as you vented out all your frustrations to him, right in the middle of his living room floor. Jisung wasn’t sure why, but for some reason you always came to him when you wanted to vent. He was always bad with expressing things with his words, so you often found yourself buried into his arms, embraced in warm tight hugs. Today, Jisung was feeling a bit more bold. Bolder than usual. He placed his hand on your cheek and suddenly leaned in for a kiss. You felt your shoulders relax, and the tension you had from earlier started to release. He leaned in, pressing your head against his shoulders whispering in your ears, “I will always remain by your side. I will be here for eternity, just for you.” And somehow, through his love for you, he found the right words to say.
#nct dream#nct imagines#nct dream fic#nct fic#nct#nct dream imagine#nct x reader#nct scenarios#nct mark#nct jeno#nct renjun#nct jaemin#nct haechan#nct chenle#nct jisung#mark lee#lee donghyuck#lee jeno#park jisung#na jaemin#huang renjun#zhong chenle#chenle#renjun#jisung#jeno#haechan#jaemin
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Forgive and Forget | Lee Donghyuck (Haechan)
Summary: Haechan claims that you’ve been ignoring him – but he hasn’t been the best boyfriend either.
Genre: Established relationship AU, angst, baseballplayer!Haechan,
Word count: 1k
From the moment Haechan walked in the front door, you knew something was wrong. His footsteps were too slow, too lazy.
Haechan trudged into the living room, head hung low.
"You're home!" You shut your laptop and walked towards him.
You wrapped your arms around Haechan's firm body, but he wasn’t hugging you back. His arms hung limply by his side.
You stood up on your toes and leant towards him, but Haechan dodged your kiss, swerving his lips away at the last moment.
He pushed you off him and trudged towards the bedroom.
"What's up, baby?" You asked, following behind him. "Did you lose the game?"
Haechan scoffed. "Actually we won, not that you'd know... or care." He mumbled under his breath.
You frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Haechan's dark eyes met yours. He stared at you, as if contemplating something. Then he broke your gaze, shrugging.
"Forget I said anything." He pulled off his top and sweatpants, and went into the en suite bathroom.
“Want me to give you a rub down?" You smirked, thinking of all the times in Haechan's career as a professional baseball player that you'd met him for a steamy post-game massage.
Placing your hands on his waist, you started to follow him into the bathroom… but the door slammed in your face. You barely had time to yank your hands away. You stood staring at the white wood, your ears still ringing from the sound.
There was a hiss of water as Haechan started the shower.
You slumped down on the bed, unable to work out why your boyfriend was in such a foul mood. It seemed like the only emotion he had left was anger.
Haechan hadn’t kissed you for weeks. At this point you were more like roommates, not girlfriend and boyfriend.
Haechan came into the bedroom. His brown torso was dripping wet, and a towel hung low on his hips. The sight of your nearly naked boyfriend sent tingles running down your entire body. But you knew better than to approach him right now.
Haechan sat on the bed beside you, still naked. He stared at the floor.
"Why do you never come to my games?"
"I do come to them," you said. "I was there just last… last…" You stopped mid-sentence.
Actually, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been to a match.
Haechan scoffed. "All the other guys' girlfriends come to every single one. Jeno's girl always brings these amazing cookies that she bakes from scratch. Why don't you ever do anything like that?"
You frowned. "I'm not your personal cheerleader, Haechan. I have a job, you know. I’m busy."
Haechan sighed. "How busy can you be? All you do is sit at home all day and write stories for kids. Anyone could do that."
Haechan’s words felt like a blow to the face.
"Would you prefer if I didn't work? Would you prefer it if I came to all your matches... like some kind of trophy girlfriend?"
The look in his eyes was enough to know that he meant ‘yes’.
You shook your head, tears pricking your eyes. "Unbelievable."
Haechan sprang off the bed. "Why do you always make our arguments about you? I'm the one who is supposed to be upset, but now you're crying." He rolled his eyes.
You swiped away the tears from your burning cheeks.
Haechan turned towards the wardrobe and put on a black T shirt and jeans. You watched him from the bed as he laced up his trainers.
"Where are you going?" you asked.
"To the after party. To hang out with people who actually care about me."
Haechan stomped into the hallway. You ran behind him.
"Wait,” you said. "Don't go."
Haechan's hand was on the front door. He paused, turning to look at you. "Why not?"
You gripped your hair. "Because... I love you."
Haechan sighed. "I love you, too, Y/n. But that's not enough. I need a girlfriend who can spare three hours for a baseball match! You know I'd do the same for you."
"Would you?" you asked, voice quiet.
Haechan frowned. "What do you mean?"
You tugged at the hem of your shirtsleeve. You hated being this open. "When was the last time you came to one of my book signings?"
Haechan scratched his head. "I guess I've been busy..."
"Have you ever read one of my books, Haechan? They’re ten pages long."
“I’ve been… meaning to.” Haechan gulped. He let the front door go. It fell shut. He stepped towards you.
"Do you even know what my latest book is called?"
"It's called the owl and the... no wait, the little girl and the..." Haechan sank down onto the floor. "Shit."
You shrugged sadly. "Don't I deserve a cheerleader, too?"
Haechan buried his face in his hands. His shoulders were shaking. "I'm so sorry.”
You crouched down beside him and rubbed his back gently. "I'm sorry, too."
Haechan raised his head to look at you. His chocolate eyes were glassy, and the tip of his nose was red.
"I want to be there for you." He said, sniffing. "I understand if you want to break up but-"
You put your finger on his lips, shushing him.
"I don't want to break up, baby. We just need to make time for each other."
You stood up and held your hand out. Haechan took it, smiling weakly.
"What happened to us?" He asked, wrapping his hand around your waist.
You shrugged. "We're not perfect."
Haechan smiled. "I think you're perfect. I just… lost sight of that."
You bit your lip, cheeks warming. "Come here, you."
You cupped Haechan's face with your hands, stood on your tip toes and pulled his lips onto yours.
When you kissed him, it felt like you were kissing him for the first time. Every sensation was new, his touch, his lips, his body. It set you alight.
—
MASTERLIST
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
#haechan#nct dream#nct fluff#nct scenarios#nct smut#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct 127#nct reactions#haechan imagines#haechan scenarios#nct dream scenarios#nct dream reactions#nct 00 line#nct 127 smut#kpop imagines#donghyuck#nct fanfiction#nct fics#nct dream smut#haechan smut
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keep it on the low ♡ haechan
genre: fluff ⭒ word count: 0.7k
haechan sighs for third time that minute, eyes narrowing as he watches jaemin wrap a scarf around your neck. he sniffs, lips pursed and nose pink before turning away from the pair.
he wishes it were him bundling you up.
maybe that’s why he trudges through the snow without thought, stomping toward you in chunky black boots. jaemin’s giving you that up-to-no-good smile when haechan loudly clears his throat, drawing over your attention.
“can you hurry up?” he insists. “everyone’s already got their tickets by now."
jaemin holds his hands up in a mock surrender before leaning in. “cheer up our grumpy channie, hmm?” he mutters the request to you, winking before taking off in a comically-large puffer jacket.
haechan crosses his arms, childishly sticking his tongue out at the retreating friend. he taps his foot and watches the slush splatter beneath his boot. he won’t look at you, he decides, because then he’ll see your little hat—the ears on top and color matching your eyes—and suddenly all will be forgiven.
but then you cup his face and just like that, his plan is destroyed. your gloves are warm on his frozen cheeks and he can’t help but melt into your touch, honey eyes filled with nothing but adoration. it’s moments like these he wishes to live in forever. maybe the movie can wait a bit.
you giggle at his expression. “are you going to keep sulking or come inside now?”
“depends. are you sitting next to jaemin?” he unnecessarily drags out the name. if his jealousy wasn't obvious before, it is now.
“see my previous question.”
“i’m not done.” he shakes his head, your hands moving with him. “let me pout a little more."
…
haechan makes a show of dragging you into the theater almost comically. he immediately claims the seat to your right, shoving chenle into the other. the foreigner was friendly at times but harmless when it came to you. that was all haechan needed to know.
but then chenle starts whispering to you.
haechan leans in, hoping to not appear too interested in the conversation. his gaze flickers between your form and the previews on screen. not even his crossed legs or casual demeanor can hide the anxiety in his features. it's painfully obvious—even jeno and jaemin watch the interaction with muffled laughter.
the next time he takes a peak, fingers unconsciously picking at the skin on his lips, he's surprised to find you looking back. he jolts away, nearly tearing a chunk off in the process. "ani," he quickly denies, "I wasn't listening."
you're amused. "I didn't even say anything."
haechan blinks. “oh.”
chenle peers around you, shaking the bag of popcorn in his direction. "want some?"
he takes the snack with a huff, grumpily munching for the next few minutes.
…
“i’m scared,” haechan murmurs to you. so maybe he was exaggerating the movie's intensity a little—what’s wrong with wanting to cuddle? he was bored out of his mind and only an hour into the movie. he couldn’t help if you were sitting next to him looking all cute and fluffy. “can i rest my head here, baby?” the name slips before he can catch it.
you go rigid against him. renjun chokes on his drink, liquid nearly spraying across the theater as he and jisung share a look of disgust from the aisle behind. haechan’s flaming red. had everyone heard him? he slides further down the seat. how was he going to explain this one? momentary insanity?
but then you’re nodding, even patting your shoulder as an invitation. the gesture has him nearly in tears. he buries his face beneath the soft hood of your coat, eyes closing as he attempts to collect himself. he’s in trouble. haechan feels your hand brush his, hesitantly resting on top for several heart-pounding moments before intertwining your fingers.
he holds his breath. only one thought's on his mind right now—please don’t pull away. the pair of clasped hands find their way to your lap. your gentle touches against his skin leave him breathless. haechan's nuzzled up against your side for the rest of the showing, maybe even drifts off for a minute or two. he could let his guard down a little—his friends had gotten the message anyway.
you're his.
#haechan#nct#nct dream#nct 127#nct fluff#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct x reader#haechan fluff#lee donghyuck#nct fanfic#nct haechan#nct drabbles#nct dream fluff#haechan scenarios#haechan imagines#nct fic#haechan x reader
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