hyucksmind @hyucksmind - Tumblr Blog

do you plan a part 2 for get over yourself or that was it?

that was it tbh, I feel like its concluded <3

omg omg part 2 of hit me up is up finallyyy lmao feel free to tell me if you liked it (or not!) I was also thinking of opening requests because lately idk what to write, my dreams have not been hitting up 😔🚬 I do still have that Jaehyun idea

#🧸 Esme Rants #nct fic

hit me up (please!) x l. mrk pt 2

>> go to part 1! # currently playing: party 4 u, tumblr girls, party sng, call me when you break up >pairing. stripper! f reader x rich boy! mark >summary. Mark was meant to be just another client, a fleeting moment in a sea of rich guys who think they can buy whatever they want. But he keeps coming back, requesting only you, treating you differently—like you’re more than just a body. >genre. fluff (a tiny bit suggestive), angst >words. 2.6k >a/n. its been 2 weeks of me trying to figure out what to add to this part 2 and I figured ill leave it till here (ik its short sorry) because I don't want to make it too boring, hope you like it tho!

mark: cool party :) mark: waiting for me? You stare at the screen, the glow casting soft light against your cheek. The music from inside the house is barely audible now—just a muffled thump of bass under the quiet hum of the night. Out here, the air is cooler, the kind of breeze that brushes against bare skin and makes your arms tense, like it’s trying to remind you you’re still alive. It’s a stark contrast to the warmth simmering in your chest—a heat you can’t quite name, somewhere between anger and something far more humiliating. You shouldn’t care. You really shouldn’t. But the two texts sit there, heavy on the screen like they’re laughing at you. Your thumb hovers over the keyboard.

“You wish.” “Didn’t realize ghosts text back.” “What is your deal?.” “Who do you think you are”

You type. Backspace. Type again. Pause. Swallow.

Why is it that no matter how much he lets you down, a part of you still lights up when you see his name?

But nothing you write feels right. Nothing you could say would really reach him—not in the way you need it to. You keep staring.

And then the phone buzzes again.

mark: so u're really ignoring me now? mark: after waiting all night?

What. The. Actual. Fuck

He knew.

He knew you were waiting for him. He knew, and still—he didn't show. He let you look for him in every corner of that house. He let your eyes scan the door every ten minutes. He let you throw a party for him, and never walked through the door.

It’s not even about the party. It’s about everything before that, everything he made you feel, then left you to hold alone.

You type two words.

fuck off.

Then, without hesitation, you power the phone down and shove it deep into your bag. You breathe in sharply, the night air filling your lungs like a reset Enough. You are going to enjoy your fucking party, like you threw it for yourself. Kiss someone, get so wasted you forget his name, his voice, the way he always smells like citrus and sin. You're going to walk back in there like your heart isn’t still beating in the shape of his name

You smooth your hair in the reflection of a dark car window, fix your lip gloss even though you know it’ll be gone in an hour if you follow through with your own plan. You breathe in once—twice—then push the door open and let the music swallow you whole.

Heat and bass and sweat and perfume cling to you instantly. Somewhere, someone’s yelling your name. A drink is shoved into your hand. You force a smile. You let it stretch until it almost feels real.

And then, like clockwork, Wonbin finds you. “You good?” he shouts over the music, eyes flicking across your face like he’s trying to read the answer off your lips before you speak it. You nod. “Better now.” He grins, easy and bright, and leans in closer. He says something funny—you don’t even catch the full thing—but you laugh anyway, too loud, tossing your head back like you’ve never laughed at anything harder. It feels good, fake or not. For a second, you even believe yourself.

He lifts his cup like a toast and clinks it gently against yours. “To better now,” he says, and his smile is that kind of smile you wish you could want.

You drink. Not because you’re thirsty, not really, but because it gives your hands something to do. Wonbin says something else, a joke about someone falling asleep in the upstairs bathtub, and you play along, nudging his shoulder with yours. You’re leaning in closer now, not even thinking about it, just drifting on autopilot—warm bodies, loud music, hands that don’t hurt when they touch you.

Then he says, “Earlier I wanted to tell you… you look gorgeous tonight.”

You freeze for a second. It’s soft, not a line, not a move—just a truth. You glance up at him, meeting his eyes, and for a moment, you wish you were the version of yourself that could fall for someone like him. “Thanks,” you say, quieter now. “That’s sweet.”

He gives a little shrug, but his gaze lingers. “It’s true.”

Your smile falters, but only just. And then he’s pulling you into the music again, a hand on your hip, your laugh bubbling up out of your chest as you spin into him.

It’s easy. It’s good.

Until it isn’t.

Because you feel it.

That shift.

That sudden static in the air, crawling across your skin like goosebumps. It starts at your neck and slides down your spine before you even turn around. The scent hits you next—warm musk and dark spice and something that doesn’t belong to anyone else.

You know it by heart.

And then, right behind you, low and calm and infuriatingly sure, you hear:

“You always laugh like that when you lie?”

The world doesn’t stop—but it slows, just enough for the sound of your own heartbeat to echo louder than the music. You don’t turn immediately. You stand there, spine stiff, every muscle in your body tightening like you’re bracing for impact.

Wonbin glances over your shoulder, expression shifting. “Yo, man,” he says, half a greeting, half confusion. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

Of course he didn’t. No one did. Least of all you.

You inhale slowly, steadying yourself, and turn around.

Mark’s standing there like he belongs—hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly, the edges of a smirk on his lips like he’s amused by this whole thing. But his eyes give him away. They’re fixed on you, sharp and unreadable, like he’s dissecting you cell by cell.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, voice flat.

He smiles—annoyingly soft. “I’m here to see you. Since you didn’t answer me.”

You blink once. “I think I remember clearly telling you to fuck off.”

Wonbin, confused, steps in closer. He places a protective hand around your arm, the gesture tentative but firm, like he's already decided you're something worth defending.

Mark quirks a brow but doesn’t move. There’s a strange stillness between them. “Hey, man,” Wonbin’s voice cuts back in, sharp this time. He hasn’t gone far. “I think she clearly wants you to go.”

Mark raises his eyebrows, still looking at you. “Is that so?” he says calmly. “She can tell me herself.”

They both look at you now. Expecting.

You pause, heart racing—not from nerves, not exactly. More like… adrenaline. Rage. Confusion. You glance over your shoulder and nod at Wonbin, giving him that look—the one that says I got this. “I’ll call you,” you repeat, quieter this time.

His brow knits, like he wants to argue, but he nods anyway. He lingers just a second longer, eyes flicking from you to Mark and back, before stepping away into the crowd. Not before whispering a “I’ll be close if you need me” Mark scoffs at wonbins reaction, then he fixes himself and says “Come on, baby. Lets talk ”

“I knew you wouldn’t want me to leave,” he says, grinning as he steps closer. “Also, lovely party. You truly went all out.”

You stare at him like he just slapped you. The fucking audacity he has, acting like nothing happened, like he didnt turn against you at the last minute—it’s enough to make your fists clench at your sides.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you spit, rolling your eyes as you turn to leave.

But before you get far, his fingers close around your wrist, pulling you back gently. He turns you to face him, and that stupid smirk is gone.

His eyes meet yours—serious now, intent.

“Come on, baby,” he says quietly. “Let’s talk.”

You exhale through your nose, trying to hold yourself together. You pull your hand free. Then you turn away from him again, this time without the anger. You need space—air—anything that isn't the heat of his eyes on you. So you start walking, pushing through the crowd until you're outside again, finding a quiet corner of the balcony where the noise fades just enough to breathe.

If this has to end, better end it now.

Mark follows, not right behind you, but close enough. You hear the sliding glass door slide shut behind him.

“Why are you here?” you ask, finally turning to face him. The night air bites at your skin, the contrast to the warmth pooling in your chest—whether it’s fury, heartache, or both—you still can’t tell.

“After you knew I was waiting for you. After you made me wait like an idiot. Why are you doing this to me?”

Mark runs a hand through his hair, his jaw tight.

“What am I doing to you?” he snaps. “You were the one who literally turned me down when I was at my most vulnerable.”

You blink at him. That’s what he thinks?

“I didn’t even get to turn you down,” you say, voice rising. “You didn’t give me a second. You didn’t let me speak. You didn’t let me think.”

Mark’s eyes narrow. “I didn’t let you think? You literally had all this time to think. I left you alone so you could think.”

“But why would you leave me alone?” you snap. “Why wouldn’t you chase me? So I could say it to you?”

He scoffs, eyes wide in disbelief. “Couldn’t you just say it to me? You could’ve just—just said it. You knew I was waiting.”

“How could I know that?!” you nearly shout. “If you disappeared, Mark! You didn’t go to the club. You didn’t call. You didn’t text. You didn’t show up at my house. And then I throw this whole party—you knew it was for you—and you didn’t fucking come.”

You take a shaky breath, hands balled into fists at your sides. His mouth opens, but you cut him off.

“And now you have the audacity to stand here and act like I’m the one messing things up?”

The words tumble out faster than your heart can keep up. “What am I doing wrong? What the actual fuck am I doing wrong?!”

The silence that follows is deafening. Both of you are breathing hard, chests rising and falling, eyes locked like neither of you can believe how far this went.

It’s not anger anymore—it’s something deeper, messier. Hurt. Longing. That unbearable in-between where love and disappointment blur into one.

Neither of you moves.

You’re just standing there.

Breathing.

Mark breaks the searing tension with a kiss, just a desperate pull as his hand slides up to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.

You whine, soft and startled, hands pressing between your bodies, trying to create space. You shake your head as you pull back, breath catching, but he’s looking at you like you're the only thing left in the world. Like he’d fall apart if you walked away again.

Your voice trembles as it leaves you. “Was it true? What you said that night?”

His gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you want to be with me? For real? Forever?”

You can't breathe. Can't think. Your chest rises too fast, too high. You're shaking, from the cold or from him or from everything in between.

He exhales, like the words have been sitting heavy on his chest for too long.

“I can’t live without you,” he says, voice low and breaking in the middle. “I’ve tried. And I just… I can’t.”

You don’t even think. You just move.

One second you’re staring at him—his flushed cheeks, his eyes glassy and wide like he can’t believe what he just admitted—and the next, you’re kissing him again. Throwing yourself into it, into him, like you’ve been holding back an entire storm and it finally broke free.

Your hands clutch at his jacket, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between you. He groans softly against your mouth, arms wrapping around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll disappear again if he doesn’t hold on tight enough.

It’s messy. Breathless. Too much and not enough. But it’s real. Every bit of it.

Because if you’re being honest—if either of you are—this is what you’ve been needing. Just being there, honest (and sober). Nothing between you but breath and truth and everything you didn’t say until now.

The kiss deepens, slow at first, like you’re both testing the weight of it. Then it shifts—grows more desperate. Tongues clash, fingers dig into fabric, into skin. His hands are at your waist, your back, anywhere he can hold. Yours twist in his hair, tug at his jacket, trying to get closer, closer.

You gasp into his mouth when he bites gently at your bottom lip, and he groans like he’s been holding that sound in for weeks. Like the taste of you is something he never thought he’d get again.

You feel it—his want, your need—the way your skin burns under his touch. Every nerve is screaming, aching for more. It would be so easy to let go completely.

But then Mark pulls back, just a little. His forehead rests against yours. He’s breathing hard, lips red, eyes searching yours like he’s holding onto something fragile.

“I want you so bad right now,” he says, voice low, raw. “But I’m not gonna fuck you tonight.”

You blink, confused. The air crackles between you. “What?”

“Because I need you to know this isn’t just about your body,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “It’s not about tonight. Not about the heat or the momentum or how badly I’ve missed touching you.”

He touches your face gently, thumb brushing your cheek.

“I’m here because I love you,” he says. “And if I want this to be real, I need to show you I mean it.”

You stare at him, stunned.

“So tomorrow,” he continues, softer now, “I’m taking you out. Like properly. A date. Just us. I want to do this right.” You nod, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Okay,” you say, voice soft. Mark’s smile stretches, a little breathless, a little stunned—like he wasn’t expecting you to say yes even though he hoped you would.

You tilt your head, smitten. “Soooo, where are we going?”

“Uh…” he blinks, mouth parting slightly. His eyes dart to the side like the answer might be hiding somewhere behind you. One hand goes to the back of his neck, rubbing nervously, and the other tugs at the hem of his jacket like he’s trying to ground himself. “Right. Where.”

You raise an eyebrow, already fighting a laugh.

“I mean—I have options,” he says, a little too fast, his voice jumping an octave. “I was just, you know, narrowing it down. Strategizing. Planning. Being mysterious.”

You laugh for real this time, full and warm, and his eyes soften as he looks at you—embarrassed, but completely in awe.

“You didn’t think I’d say yes,” you tease.

Mark runs a hand through his hair like he’s trying to reset his brain. “I didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “Well… you did.”

He squeezes your hand, then leans in one last time, his voice low and honest. “I’ll make it worth it.”

And somehow, you know he will.

#kpop #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct dream x reader #mark lee #nct x reader #mark nct #mark x reader #mark smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #kpop smut #mark fluff

tysm for all the love in the mark fic! I'll be writing part 2 but im not sure when im able to get it out, asap tho

also yesterday I had this dream I think would fit jaehyun so well ... so he's the next one maybe ill do a teaser...idk

#🧸 Esme Rants #nct fic #nct #mark nct #jaehyun

hit me up (please!) x l. mrk

>> go to part 2 # currently playing: party 4 u, tumblr girls, party sng >pairing. stripper! f reader x rich boy! mark >summary. Mark was meant to be just another client, a fleeting moment in a sea of rich guys who think they can buy whatever they want. But he keeps coming back, requesting only you, treating you differently—like you’re more than just a body. >genre. smut, angst (loosely inspired by Anora) >words. 8.1k >tags. fingering, reader uses she/her pronouns, penetration, praising, swearing, mark being a total simp, explicit smut (riding, praise, overstimulation, unprotected sex, oral both ways), drug usage, mutual pining, emotional repression, pole dance, 18+ minors dni! >a/n. everything is kind of fast paced in their relationship but its kind of how the Anora movie was

"You think he's coming again tonight?"

You roll your eyes, smoothing down the fabric of your miniskirt as you finish adjusting your makeup, already too familiar with the question.

"God, Chaewon, why do you care so much?"

She’s leaning against the bathroom counter, her hair perfectly tucked in a ponytail, holding her phone in one hand, pulling on a pair of heels with the other. You can see the smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Not like I care care,” she says, eyes flicking up to meet yours, “just wanna know if you bagged that already.”

You let out a dry laugh, glossing your lips one last time before snapping the compact shut.

“Oh babes trust me, he’s far gone. Like, carved-my-name-into-his-brain type of gone” You blow her a kiss over your shoulder, a smirk tugging at your lips. You leave the room, heels clicking down the hallway as the music from the floor gets louder. Tonight looks promising. The energy’s right, your outfit’s fire, and you already spotted at least three wallets worth your time.

But then your brain starts bugging.

#nct dream #nct #kpop #nct 127 #mark lee #nct x reader #mark smut #mark x reader #nct dream x reader #mark nct #mark imagines

WAIIITT SHOULD I MIX THEMMM I mean party on u trend+ anora plot?!?! what do we think am I crazy?

all of these party 4 u povs trend got me wantingg needing to write a lil sum sum for a neo with this 👀 I knoww I should be writing the Mark Anora ficcc but ughhh I need me some party 4 u x nct 😩

#🧸 Esme Rants #nct fic #party 4 u

the chokehold perv haechan has on me

#icecreamthief #etcetc

no cuz im actually going insane :)

#nct dream #anon ask #haechan #perv #im dying #needhimsobadithurtz

> @hyucksmind fics picks! (1.png)

↳ fics curated by a terminally online Haechan stan a/n: Hi! sooo, while looking for the fics I was gonna recommend, I noticed I mostly read Haechan’s (guilty!), so there’s not gonna be much neo variety :(

#haechan x reader #kpop #fic rec #nct #nct dream x reader #haechan fic #recommends #nct recs #haechan #nct 127 #lee donghyuck #nct fic #nct x reader #nct dream

Am I the only one who reads a fic about a certain neo, and then when other members show up, suddenly I want to fk them too?😭It always happens to me while reading a fic, and when Haechan shows up, I just wanna do him

(me when this happens) (it always does)

#🧸 Esme Rants #nct #lee donghyuck

I just read the story you made about hyuck I fucking LOVED IT .

Btw, can u make a list of the ff u read and rlly liked about NCT.

omgg thank u sm that makes me so happyyy reallyy <33 I can make a list but I feel like im very basic lol you might've read them all, but ill make it 4suree

#anon ask #lee donghyuck #fics

hyucksmind

get over yourself / l.dh

>pairing. dom donghyuck! x reader >summary. The semester is over, and your friend group decides to escape to a cabin to unwind and shake off the stress. Of course, you knew Donghyuck would be there—he was your friend before he was a little more. Now, you’re just friends again… or at least, that’s what you tell yourself to not overthink it. But old feelings start creeping back, and he’s making it impossible to ignore them. >genre. smut, fluff, friends to friends with benefits to lovers? >words. 7.4k >tags. fingering, usage of degrading words (slut, whore), reader uses she/her pronouns, penetration, praising, jealousy, swearing, sex jokes, jelousy, kind of exhibition fantasy, slapping, no condom reader is on pills (pls practice safe sex!), 18+ minors dni! >a/n. guys i dreamed this like a week ago lmao now i want to fuck hyuck in a cabin :(

You hadn’t planned on going to the cabin trip. It was one of those last-minute decisions—Yunjin begging you to come, swearing it would be “just what you need.” And honestly? Maybe she was right. A weekend away with friends, no stress, just good vibes. Plus, you already knew Donghyuck was coming. Yunjin mentioned it like it was nothing, just another name in the group chat, and you refused to let it get under your skin. It’s been a while. You’re both adults. Civil. More than capable of existing in the same space without making it a thing.

The cabin is beautiful—tucked deep into the woods, far enough from the city that you lose signal halfway up the mountain road. It’s all wooden beams and wide open windows, warm lights strung across the ceiling, a crackling fireplace in the main room. Cozy. Inviting. Way too romantic for a group of college kids.

But you shake off the thought as you step inside, taking in the sight of everyone settling in, laughter spilling through the space. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

And then, your eyes find him.

Not because you were expecting to see him. Obviously. But there he is, lounging on the couch like he owns the place, flashing that easy, lazy smile as he talks to someone—to her. His arm is draped over the back of the sofa, body angled just enough to make the conversation feel private.

It’s not like you even care. Its usual Donghyuck behaviour so its not surprising.

But then he glances up, his eyes locking onto yours across the room. His smile doesn’t waver, but his gaze lingers a second too long.

Something in your chest tightens.

Great.

Just two months ago that feeling wouldn't have been a problem or even something new. Back then, you and Donghyuck had something—intimate, but not serious. No labels, no expectations. Just sex and maybe if you were lucky enough, some conversations after it It was never supposed to be more than that.

You’ve never been the kind of person who can keep things casual. You catch feelings too fast, too deep, and that’s exactly what happened. And Donghyuck? He doesn’t work like that.

So it didn’t end well. But it didn’t end badly, either. No fights, no dramatic fallouts. Just a quiet, unspoken understanding that you both wanted different things. A shift from something to nothing.

"Y/N, you came!" Chenle’s voice cuts through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. You blink, shaking off the weight of your emotions just in time to see him emerging from the kitchen, a bright grin on his face.

You quickly glance away from where Donghyuck is, pasting on a smile as Chenle pulls you into a hug. His energy is infectious, the kind of warmth you desperately need right now.

"Did someone give you a tour of the cabin yet?" he asks, pulling back slightly to look at you.

You open your mouth to answer, but then it hits you—Yunjin was supposed to be your tour guide. Instead, the second you both stepped inside, she made a beeline for the kitchen, mumbling something about needing a drink.

Your lips press together as you huff a small laugh. "I was supposed to get one, but Yunjin abandoned me for alcohol."

"Sounds about right," Chenle snickers.

"You say that like it’s a bad thing," another voice chimes in.

You turn to see Yunjin finally reappearing, a drink in her hand and Renjun trailing behind her. She barely looks apologetic.

Renjun sets his cup down and gives you a small smile. "Glad you made it."

“Thanks, guys,” you say, adjusting the strap of your bag. “You can give me the tour later. Just show me my room so I can drop my stuff. Also—where is everyone?”

Yunjin takes a sip of her drink before nodding toward the back. “Outside by the fire. We were supposed to be helping set things up, but…” she exchanges a glance with Renjun, smirking, “we got a little distracted with the drinks.”

You snort. “Typical of you two.”

Chenle chuckles. “Come on, I’ll show you where you’re staying.”

You were just about to go up the stairs, past the sofa where Haechan and that girl were lounging, when you hear his voice—.

“Hey, Y/N. Was expecting you said hi after you came in." He says playfully, with his legs all spread in the sofa.

You know he was trying to irk you up, but it wouldn't be that easy. Beside you had nothing to be irked up for

"Hi," you say with a light, easy smile, your tone deliberately casual. "I was going to say hello earlier, but then Chenle showed up and, well… completely slipped my mind."

You don’t miss the way Hyuck’s brows twitch, his jaw tensing for just a fraction of a second. It’s subtle—anyone else might have overlooked it—but you catch it. The corners of your lips twitch as you fight the urge to smirk. He tilts his head, almost as if he’s trying to read you, but then, he just shrugs, his usual cocky grin returning.

“Right, sure, you’re always so forgetful,” he teases, his voice light again, but the edge is a little sharper now. The girl next to him giggles softly, and you can feel the irritation rising in your chest, even though you know you have no reason to care.

You offer a small, polite laugh, forcing yourself not to let his words get to you. You step into the room Chenle shows you, the cozy space offering a momentary sense of relief from the tension downstairs. The bed is neatly made, a small window offering a view of the woods outside. "So..." He starts, taking a few steps into the room, hands shoved into his hoodie pockets. "You and Hyuck... everything cool?" He doesn't have to finish the sentence; you can tell he knows exactly what he’s asking. The way his eyebrows lifts and his lips purses You smile a little and smack Chenle playfully on the arm. "Of course we’re cool, why wouldn’t we be? You know he’s just annoying," you tease, trying to brush it off like it’s no big deal.

Chenle grins, rubbing the spot where you hit him. "C'mon, spill the tea. You’ve never been this mysterious before."

You gasp, widening your eyes in mock shock. "So, you’re saying i’m always just spilling all my business like it’s some casual chat?!"

Chenle raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "So there is business then?" His voice is laced with excitement, clearly proud of himself for catching onto something.

You roll your eyes, sighing dramatically. "Got me there. I really don’t want to talk about it right now," you say, trying to deflect. "Besides, we’re here to have a great time, and we will. So no more of this “Hyuck” talk, okay?"

Chenle laughs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. No Hyuck. But remember, I’m here if you change your mind." He winks before turning to leave.

You can’t help but laugh it off. He’s always so clever, always able to read you like an open book, even when you don’t want him to. After a some minutes, you finish unpacking your things, mentally telling yourself to just relax and enjoy the weekend. But before you can get too comfortable, you hear Yunjin’s voice calling from downstairs.

“Y/N, come on down! We’re about to head out for dinner!” You glance at the clock—it’s getting late, but you’re feeling the hunger starting to set in. You step outside, the cold night air hitting you, and the scent of pine trees mixing with the warmth of the nearby fire. Following the sounds of laughter, you make your way toward the firepit in the woods.

There’s a circle of folding chairs around the fire, and you spot everyone, including Donghyuck, who seems to be in his element, lounging casually. He’s talking to the girl sitting next to him, clearly flirting by the way he leans in to whisper something in her ear, his eyebrows lifting slightly in that charming, mischievous way he does. Bu then, his eyes immediately find yours as you approach, and for a split second, everything around you feels a little more distant. His gaze lingering just a moment too long. A small, knowing smile tugs at his lips, but you don't let yourself fall into it. You shake your head, forcing yourself to pull your attention away from him. As you walk past the group, you make sure to say hello to everyone you haven’t greeted yet, keeping your tone light You take a seat next to Yunjin, who immediately hands you a plate. You grab it gratefully and start roasting your meat, trying to ignore the heat of the fire and the unease gnawing at you. Everyone is chatting happily, passing drinks and joking around, and for a moment, it feels like you’re part of the easy, relaxed group.

But then, your eyes unwillingly flicker back to Donghyuck.

He’s still sitting with the girl, his attention mostly on her as he leans in to whisper something in her ear. You watch as his fingers casually brush over her bare leg, rubbing slowly and purposefully, as if to remind you of something. The sight hits you in a way you weren’t prepared for, and you quickly look away, your heart thudding in your chest.

You force a smile at something Yunjin says, trying to push the discomfort aside, but it’s hard to ignore the way Donghyuck’s eyes keep flicking toward you, as if he knows exactly what kind of reaction he’s causing. Does he realize he still has that effect on you? Does he want to? Shit you’re starting to overthink

But before you can get too lost in your own spiraling thoughts, Jaemin—your ever-enthusiastic friend who organized this trip—lifts a cup of wine, clearly ready to kick off the night. He grins widely, making eye contact with the group.

"I think this is what everyone needed after such an excruciatingly long, boring, and tiresome semester," he announces, raising his cup higher. "So cheers—for just getting over it!"

Everyone cheers, some clinking their cups together, the laughter bubbling up as the tension of the past few weeks seems to lift for a moment. It’s a simple gesture, but it feels like a little release. You take a sip of your drink, letting the wine settle warmly in your chest, trying to focus on the people around you and not the way Donghyuck’s still lingering in your peripheral vision.

Jaemin, always one for keeping things interesting, wiggles his eyebrows and smirks. "Great, so to make things more interesting, why don't we play some games?"

Everyone cheers and laughs, their excitement palpable in the chilly night air. You can’t help but smile, though it’s tinged with a bit of tension. You already know where this is going—Truth or Dare. It’s always the easiest game to get everyone involved, and it’s never as innocent as it seems.

"What game are you thinking?" Donghyuck's voice cuts through the noise, dripping with that signature smugness.

You glance over, only to realize that, in the short time you weren’t paying attention, the girl he brought who had been sitting next to him has now comfortably draped herself across his lap, the move so effortless it almost feels rehearsed. His arm is loosely wrapped around her, his fingers brushing the curve of her back in a way that feels too intimate, too natural.

A knot tightens in your chest. You force yourself to look away, focusing instead on the group, trying not to let the sight of them together eat at you. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to shake the feeling that something has shifted. That something between you and Donghyuck—no matter how casual it was—was still lingering in the air.

Jaemin, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere, interrupts your spiraling thoughts with his usual energy. “Alright, alright! Truth or dare, guys?” he says, clearly eager to dive into the chaos of the game. “Who’s first?”

Hanbin doesn't hesitate, with a grin that matches Jaemin’s enthusiasm. “Me” he announces, looking around the circle. His eyes settle on Giselle, who’s sitting a little further down the line. “Giselle, truth or dare?”

Giselle smiles, lips curling in that devil-may-care way she does. “Dare,” she says without a second thought, not even a flicker of hesitation. The group bursts into playful “Ooohs” and chuckles

Hanbin, not missing a beat, grins mischievously. “Alright then. I dare you to jump into the lake… with the person you like the most in here.”

Giselle blinks, looking a little taken aback for a moment. The dare’s unexpected twist sends a ripple through the group, and a few people snicker, exchanging knowing looks.

Giselle, who’s always been cool under pressure, pauses for a second before her eyes scan the circle. She meets Jeno’s gaze for a brief moment. The silence feels heavy for a second. And you’re not sure if it’s just the alcohol, or if it’s something else, but you’re almost holding your breath waiting for her response.

“Alright,” she says, grinning wide. “I guess it’ll be… you.” She points straight at Jeno, and for a second, the tension is palpable.

Jeno looks surprised, but then he shrugs, a small grin pulling at the corners of his lips. “Guess I don’t have a choice now, do I?”

Giselle laughs, grabbing his hand as they both stand up, taking their shoes off and running toward the lake. The group watches as they splash and laugh in the distance, leaving a trail of joy behind them.

You can’t help but feel a little lighter, the tension that had been gnawing at you slowly dissipating with each laugh and playful challenge. For the first time tonight, it’s easy to forget about Donghyuck—about the tension between the two of you. The dares keep coming, each more ridiculous than the last, and everyone is laughing, getting caught up in the chaos of it all.

Just as you’re getting into the rhythm of the game, your laughter fading into the night, someone suddenly calls out.

“Ryujin, truth or dare?”

That’s when you realize—that is the name of the girl Donghyuck has been glued to all night. Ryujin. She’s still perched on his lap, her body leaning into him in that way that makes you feel... well, uncomfortable. The way her laugh sounds too flirtatious, and the way she looks at him, is all too much for your nerves to handle.

She chuckles, her eyes never leaving Donghyuck’s, a slow, teasing smile curling on her lips. “Dare,” she says, her voice low and sultry, clearly looking straight at him.

The group waits in anticipation, the energy shifting as everyone knows exactly who the dare is for.

Without missing a beat, someone calls out the dare, and your heart skips a beat.

“I dare you to give Donghyuck a lap dance.”

The group laughs, some cheer, others just watch in stunned silence. Ryujin, for a split second, looks over at Donghyuck, her smile widening with the challenge. He grins back, clearly entertained by the idea, but you can’t bring yourself to look away from the scene unfolding in front of you.

Ryujin gracefully slides off his lap, standing up in front of him. With one last glance at him, she winks, her movements fluid and confident as she begins to dance, each step calculated to draw attention.

The air around the firepit thickens with the tension, and the group is buzzing, clearly enjoying the dare. But even as Ryujin moves with confidence, you can’t help but notice Donghyuck’s gaze flickering to you every now and then. His eyes meet yours for a second before he quickly looks away, like he’s testing the waters, trying to gauge your reaction.

You try to ignore it, to focus on anything else, but it’s hard when you feel his gaze on you—so deliberate, so loaded with unspoken words. Every time he looks at you, you feel that old pull, the one that was never quite gone.

Ryujin, clearly aware of his attention, turns up the heat of her performance, moving closer to Donghyuck, her movements more exaggerated, but there’s a tension now—a strange kind of competition between her and the unspoken bond between you and Donghyuck. Every time he glances at you, you feel like he’s testing the limits, seeing just how much you’ll take before you crack.

As Ryujin ends her performance with a bold kiss on Donghyuck’s lips, the air feels thick, the tension palpable. The crowd bursts into applause, some laughing, others clearly enjoying the spectacle. You, however, can’t help but feel a little uneasy.

Yunjin, sitting next to you, gives a playful eye roll and mutters low enough for you to hear, “Ugh, what a show-off.” Her tone is more teasing than judgmental, but you can tell she’s just as uncomfortable as you. She quickly follows with a louder, “Next!” to shift the focus away from the moment, and just like that, everyone moves on. For you though, it was still a bit much to take in, and you’re feeling the weight of the situation creeping up on you. The sounds of the game and the chatter outside feel distant now, almost too loud.

You stand up, needing a little breather. “I’m just gonna grab some water,” you tell Yunjin with a small smile, hoping it looks casual, but she nods understandingly.

Inside the cabin, the warmth feels like a slight relief. You make your way to the kitchen, your mind racing but needing the quiet to settle. The fridge hums softly as you grab a bottle of water, twisting the cap off a little too fast. You take a long sip, trying to clear your mind, the sound of the laughter outside fading into the background.

But it’s not long before you hear a playful whistle behind you, making you jump.

You freeze, heart racing for a split second before you jump to your feet, splashing water across the floor and yourself in the process.

“What the hell!” you exclaim, spinning around quickly. There, leaning casually against the doorway, is Donghyuck, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips.

"Wow, wow, don’t get all jumpy and wet on me," Donghyuck teases, his grin wide as he leans against the doorframe.

You grunt, clearly annoyed. "Just what I needed," you mutter to yourself, wiping the water from your hands as you glare at him.

"Ha, ha, very funny," you say sarcastically, closing the fridge door with more force than necessary, hoping it'll send him the message. "Just leave me alone, okay?"

He raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "Why?" he asks, his voice light but challenging, still hovering in the doorway, clearly enjoying the way he’s gotten under your skin.

You cross your arms, your patience wearing thin as you stare at him. "What do you mean 'Why'? You've done enough tonight."

Donghyuck tilts his head slightly, his grin widening as he leans in, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. "Really? Care to explain what exactly I've done?"

You give him a pointed look, trying to keep your cool despite the growing tension. "Don't play dumb, you know exactly what you’re doing. Go away and keep enjoying your night with Ryujin," you say, your voice tight with frustration.

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, his expression softening just slightly. "Mmm, Ryujin, right," he says thoughtfully, as if savoring the name, his tone mocking but not entirely serious. He leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, studying you.

You sigh, turning slightly to walk away, hoping he’ll just drop it and let you be. But he doesn’t move, watching you intently, and you feel the heat of his gaze at your back.

"You're still not over it, huh?" he mutters under his breath, the words almost like a challenge. His words catch you off guard, the bluntness hitting you harder than you expected.

"Over what?" you ask, voice shaking slightly from the shock. "The three months we just played with each other's feelings?" You turn to face him, your frustration bubbling over as you finally let it all out.

Donghyuck looks at you for a moment, a flicker of something—regret, maybe?—passing through his eyes. But it’s gone almost as quickly as it came. "I didn't play with you," he says, his voice low, almost defensive. "I told you from the start I didn’t do serious relationships."

You take a deep breath, trying to push the frustration down, but it bubbles back up, sharper this time. "Yeah, you did, thankfully," you snap, your voice thick with sarcasm. "Because of course, I wouldn’t start thinking our late-night conversations meant anything." The words leave your mouth faster than you can think, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve said too much.

Donghyuck doesn’t respond immediately. He just stands there, quiet, his gaze fixed on you like he's studying every emotion flashing across your face. His eyes soften for just a second, but the moment quickly passes, and the familiar cocky smirk returns. You know that look, the one that says he’s not taking you seriously.

"Whatever, Hyuck," you mutter, your frustration building up again. "Whatever game you're playing with me and that girl, it stops here."

He looks at you with a knowing smirk, a lazy chuckle escaping his lips. "Game?" His tone is casual, almost amused, as if he’s not bothered in the slightest. "Why would you ever think I’m playing?"

You narrow your eyes, but the edge of your anger starts to dull just slightly. He steps closer, slow and unbothered, his presence overwhelming despite his relaxed posture.

"I'm done, seriously," you say, your voice firm, but there's a hint of vulnerability you can't quite shake off.

He tilts his head slightly, studying you with that damn smug smile still lingering. "Then go," he says, the words light but with an underlying challenge. "If you don’t want to be here with me, right now, you’re free to go."

You feel a flicker of something at his words, and even though your mind tells you to walk away, your feet stay rooted in place. You don’t move, even as the tension hangs in the air, thick and charged.

He takes a step forward, his eyes never leaving yours. You feel your pulse quicken as he closes the gap between you. Each step is slow, deliberate, as though he's testing the waters, gauging your reaction.

Before you can process what’s happening, his hand is suddenly around your neck, not choking, but just enough to make you freeze. The pressure is light but firm, and you can feel the heat of his palm against your skin. You tilt your head back slightly, instinctively, to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing the side of your throat.

Your breath hitches, heart pounding in your chest as he pulls you closer, his eyes locked on yours. You can’t tear your gaze away, caught in the intensity of the moment.

He leans in, his voice a soft whisper in your ear. “I don’t think we’re done yet.” The words send a shiver down your spine, his breath warm against your skin as his grip tightens ever so slightly.

Before you can respond, he closes the space between you, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that’s anything but rough. It’s slow, deliberate, and filled with the same undeniable tension that’s been building between you both. The kiss is hot, sensual—there’s no hesitation in it. His lips move with a confidence that matches his cocky smile, and you can’t help but respond, your body instinctively leaning into him, fingers brushing against his chest as you both get lost in the moment. As the kiss deepens, his tongue slips past your lips, the sensation catching you off guard. He moves with a gentle assertiveness, his tongue teasing yours in a slow dance, it’s not rushed, each moment stretched out as if he’s savoring every second of it. The kiss is fiery yet controlled After a few moments of being completely distracted in the kiss, you push him back, your hands firmly on his chest. He grins, the cocky, playful look he always wears creeping back onto his face as if he just won.

“Kissing me back like that and saying you want me gone doesn't make much sense," he says, his voice low, teasing, and filled with that unmistakable arrogance.

You feel your frustration building again, every nerve alight from the kiss, but now you’ve had enough. You step back, your tone firm and sharp as you meet his gaze.

"I'm not fucking you, Hyuck. Get lost."

His grin falters for just a moment, but he quickly recovers, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You’re not fooling anyone, Y/N," he says, his voice dripping with that same teasing tone. "You might say you don’t want me, but your body’s telling me otherwise."

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, your heart racing, the tension from the kiss still lingering on your lips. It’s hard to ignore the way he makes you feel, how his presence always seems to have this effect on you. But you refuse to let him get the best of you again. You force yourself to look away, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to mask the way his words have affected you.

"What do you want from me?" The words slip out of your mouth before you can even think about them, your voice a mix of confusion and frustration.

"What do I want from you?" he repeats, his voice softer than you expected, almost too calm. He studies you carefully, as if weighing his words. "I want you, only you, Y/n," he says, his voice low and steady, the words hanging between you like a promise—or a challenge.

You let out a dry laugh, more out of disbelief than amusement. "You want me so much you brought Ryujin" The words come out sharper than you intended, a mix of frustration and confusion, but also the sting of jealousy.

"She's not the one I want, Y/n. Not now, not ever."

He leans in just enough that you can feel the heat of his breath on your skin, his lips a whisper away from yours. "You’re the one I want," he says, each word heavy with intent.

You feel a flutter in your chest, despite yourself, but you bite down on your lower lip to keep yourself from reacting too strongly. The tension between you two is unbearable now, thicker than ever, and for a moment, you wonder if you can hold your ground.

But before you can respond, he’s already there, his hand brushing lightly against your arm, sending a spark of heat rushing through you. His touch lingers for just a second too long, a reminder of everything you’re trying to ignore.

Then, without another word, he leans in. His lips crash against yours again, this time more urgent, more desperate. This kiss is hungry, electric, and you can feel the pull of it deep within you. His hands slide around your body, every move deliberate and slow, as if he's mapping every curve, every inch of you. He trails his lips down your neck, finding that sensitive spot just below your ear, and you shiver involuntarily, your body reacting despite your best efforts to resist.

His hands move lower, and before you can think, you feel the heat of his palm press against you, fingers grazing your skin in a way that sets your entire body on fire. "Let’s go to my room," you say, your voice barely a whisper, shaking with a mix of desire and uncertainty. The words slip out before you can second-guess yourself, but once they do, there's no turning back.

Maybe if you share this moment again with him, he’ll stay with you. He’ll remember how good you were to him, how easy it was to lose yourselves in each other’s touch.

"Wait, Y/n," he says, his tone softer now, a slight hesitation in his voice. "Are you sure? I don’t want to mislead you in any way."

You freeze for a moment, the question hanging in the air, heavy with its own uncertainty. It’s not what you were expecting.

"Don’t you want me?" you ask, your voice steady but carrying an edge of challenge, almost daring him to say otherwise.

He studies you for a moment longer, his gaze intense as he processes your words. His question hangs in the air, sharpening the tension between you both.

"How much have you had to drink? Be honest," he asks, his tone suddenly serious, almost like he's trying to gauge the sincerity of your actions.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, and respond without hesitation. "Not much, like two cups," you say, your voice steady despite the heat coursing through you.

Donghyuck's eyes flicker with something unreadable as he processes your answer. “Two cups, huh?” he mutters, almost as if to himself, before his eyes lock with yours again, and that familiar smirk plays at the corner of his lips.

“Just making sure,” he says, voice low, but now there's a glimmer of the playful edge returning. “Let’s go then”

Without wasting a second, Hyuck guides you into the room, urgency in every movement. He presses you against the wall, his lips finding yours in an intense, hungry kiss. His hand wraps around your neck, the familiar way he kisses you — the one that always leaves you breathless. You can feel the pressure building between you, the way his touch makes you forget everything else.

He taps your thigh lightly, silently urging you to jump into his arms. Without hesitation, you do, the sudden contact of his body against yours sending a surge of heat through you. He spins you around, pinning you against the wall once more, his lips trailing down your neck, grazing over your clavicles. Your breath catches, a soft moan slipping out as you feel the hard bulge pressing against your sensitive spot. Starved for this kind of touch, you’re already lost in it.

In a rush, your hoodie and pants come off, discarded quickly. When you go back to him, the absence of a bra sends a thrill through his body. A low laugh escapes his lips, playful yet laced with desire. “God, you were totally expecting this,” he teases, fingers lightly skimming over your skin, making you shiver.

He carries you to the bed, lowering himself with you on top. His hands are immediately at work, one teasing your left breast while the other explores the other. Before you can respond, his mouth is on your breast, sucking gently and swirling his tongue around your nipple, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

You become putty in his hands, your body reacting instinctively to every touch. The need for more builds, and before you can stop yourself, you begin rubbing yourself through your panties against his hard covered cock, the friction sending sparks of heat through your body. He halts, pulling away from you for a moment, his voice low and commanding.

“Fuck, stop rubbing yourself on me,” he growls, his grip tightening. “I’ll pin you down if you keep doing that.”

You let out a low whine, your voice dripping with teasing desire. “Like that would be such a shame,” you murmur, fingers working to rid him of his clothes.

He scoffs, a mocking laugh escaping him. “What a little whore,” he taunts, his grip tightening on you. “I might not even give you my dick, and yet here you are, acting like you’re in charge.”

The energy between you two shifts instantly. He spins you both around, now with him on top. You moan as you try to hurry and get his pants off, your hands eager for more.

Before you can get very far, he pins both of your arms above your head with a firm grip, strong enough to stop any chance of escape.

“Behave and take what I give you,” he warns, his voice dark with authority. You've learned by now that when he gives a warning, it’s not just for show. You still yourself under him, forcing yourself to stop moving. He loosens his hold on your arms, giving you just a moment to breathe, checking to see if you’re truly still.

His hands start to explore your body, a slow, deliberate touch. Starting from your ankles, his fingers rub up your legs, sending little jolts of anticipation with every inch of skin they graze. After a few moments, his hands inch closer to your most sensitive spot. You squirm beneath him, the tension building as you feel him nearing where you need him most.

It’s been so long since you’ve felt this kind of attention, and your body reacts before your mind can catch up.

His fingers brush over the fabric of your panties, your wetness making them stick to your skin. He slides them to the side, teasing you, his breath hot against your ear. “How long before you come on my fingers?” he whispers, his tone low and mocking. “It’s been so long I can’t even remember... Maybe I can set a new record.” He laughs mockingly and slides one finger inside, his thrusts slow but steady, like he’s savoring the moment.

He doesn't give you a chance to speak before he shifts his attention back to your chest, his mouth on one of your tits, sucking and swirling his tongue around the nipple. The feeling is almost too much, and you moan in response. The sensation of his mouth, paired with the steady rhythm of his fingers inside you, makes everything blur together.

“Fuck, put another one in,” you beg, your voice desperate, pleading.

But it’s like he doesn’t even hear you. Instead, he pulls back just enough to look at you, well not really at you but your boobs, a wicked smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I missed these tits,” he mutters, the words laced with hunger. “I bet they missed me too. Look how they react to me,” he hums, his words a tease as he takes your right breast in his mouth, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.

The sensations grow even more intense as he slides a second finger in, thrusting them faster, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. You’re a moaning mess, your body at his mercy, caught in the rhythm he’s set. All these sensations are overwhelming—the speed of his fingers, the relentless pressure of his thumb on your clit, his mouth on your skin, teasing, consuming. Your body is caught in the buildup, anticipation tightening every muscle, your breath coming out in short, desperate gasps.

And just when you’re teetering on the edge, he stops.

A strangled whine escapes you as your brows knit together, frustration bubbling up. You slap his chest weakly. “Asshole!”

Hyuck laughs, low and smug. His dark eyes glint with amusement as he watches you writhe beneath him. “Did you really think you deserved to come?” His voice drips with mockery, the words slow and deliberate.

Before you can protest, a sharp slap lands against your soaked core—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make you jolt, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. Then another. The sting melts into something warmer, something that makes your thighs quiver.

“Please, H-Hyuck,” your voice comes out breathy, laced with desperation.

He hums in faux contemplation, tilting his head as he drags his fingers lazily through your slickness, teasing but not giving in. “Now you’ll behave?” He leans in, breath hot against your ear. “Mmm, where should I let you come today? In my mouth? On my cock?” His tone is hushed, taunting, as his fingers trace circles around your clit, never quite giving you what you need.

“Anywhere! Everywhere, please!” The words spill out before you can stop them, your desire taking over.

He chuckles darkly, lifting you effortlessly and positioning you until you're straddling him. You barely register the shift before his hands grip your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. His eyes lock onto yours, intense and unyielding, studying your flushed face.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” His words are cutting, but the softness in his touch, as his thumb brushes across your hip, keeps you grounded.

One of his hands slides up to cup your jaw, thumb tracing the corner of your mouth. “Open up.”

You do, lips parting obediently. He slips his fingers past them, pressing down against your tongue as you swirl it around him, tasting the salt of your own arousal. His breathing stutters for a fraction of a second, a flicker of something primal flashing in his eyes before he regains control. “Good girl,” he murmurs, pulling his fingers free with a slick pop. “You’re behaving so well… maybe you do deserve a reward.”

His hands find your hips again, guiding you down onto his thigh. You don’t even realize until now—he’s still fully clothed, his jeans rough against your bare skin. The contrast makes you shiver. A soft furrow forms between your brows as you take in the realization, but it quickly dissolves when he gives you a subtle nudge, encouraging you to move. “Make yourself come on my thigh”

You start slow, rolling your hips in a steady rhythm, hands braced against his shoulders. His gaze never wavers, watching the way you react to every flex of his thigh, every brush of denim against your swollen clit.

Heat creeps up your neck, embarrassment settling in. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying to muffle the whimpers spilling from your lips. But the pleasure is too much, too good—you can’t stop the occasional gasp or the way your nails dig into his arms.

Hyuck only smirks, tilting his head slightly so his lips ghost over the shell of your ear. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement. “Grinding on my thigh like a desperate little slut.”

A shiver runs through you at his words. His hands roam over your back, pressing you closer, his touch contrasting the filth on his tongue. “Fuck, I missed this,” he groans, voice raspier now. “Missed the way you fall apart for me. Can’t wait to fuck you like you deserve.”

He flexes his thigh beneath you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your movements grow more frantic, desperate, chasing that edge once again. His fingers grip your waist tighter, grounding you, guiding you.

And then—it crashes over you.

Your body tenses, pleasure rippling through you in waves. His name spills from your lips, breathless and wrecked, as he soothes you through it, large hands tracing circles along your back. His lips brush against your temple, a rare, fleeting moment of tenderness amid the chaos.

You collapse against him, still trembling, and his arms tighten around you, holding you in place. His heartbeat thrums steadily against your ear, grounding you.

And then, just as you start to catch your breath, he chuckles—low and teasing. “Now that was cute… but I hope you didn’t think we were done.”

You lift your head off his shoulder, meeting his eyes as he smiles softly, the tenderness in his expression contrasting the tension in the air.

“Come on, get on all fours.” His voice is low and commanding. He helps you turn, your forearms braced against the surface beneath you. You turn your head slightly, catching a glimpse of him undressing. You wiggle your hips, teasing him, and he slaps your ass, making you gasp.

“Stop moving, slut,” he orders, his voice sharp.

“Please, fuck me already,” you beg, your voice trembling with desperation.

He scoffs, a wicked smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll fuck the attitude out of you.” Before you can say anything, he suddenly enters you, half of his shaft sliding inside with a harsh thrust. A moan, half-scream, escapes you at the intense stretch.

“Shit, you’re squeezing me like it’s the first time,” he growls. You glance back over your shoulder to see his eyes shut in pleasure, his grip tightening on your hips. His head tilts back in ecstasy, and the sight alone makes you want to come.

He begins thrusting into you, hard and relentless. He finds that perfect spot deep inside, and you gasp, your vision blurring with pleasure as stars dance behind your eyes. You feel your body surrender to the sensation, his rhythm unyielding as he pulls you up to his chest by the neck, his lips crashing against yours. His hands wander to your breasts, massaging them roughly as he continues to hit that sweet spot inside you, now faster, deeper.

You lose control of your words, only incoherent babbling escaping your lips as he watches you with dark amusement.

“Going dumb on me now, huh? Where’s that attitude?” he taunts, his thrusts harder, faster, making your body tremble beneath him.

“Hah… ah… I’m f-fuck…” you moan, gasping for air as he holds you in place by the waist, forcing you to stay right where he wants you.

“You’ll come when I tell you,” he says, his tone firm. With a sudden shift, he flips you both over, leaving you lying on your back, legs pushed to your shoulders as he thrusts into you again.

You scream, the pleasure being too much and he presses his hand over your mouth, muffling your cries.

“Want someone to find you like this? Like a bitch taking everything from me? After all that attitude you gave me earlier?” His words cut through you like a whip, and your eyes water with a mixture of pleasure and shame as you shake your head, unable to speak.

“I bet your friends would be real surprised. Maybe that’s what you want,” he sneers, thrusting deeper with each word.

His rhythm changes, slow and deep now, drawing out every moan from you. He hits that spot again and again, and you feel yourself clenching around him, your body betraying you with every movement. He senses it, letting go of your mouth just to hear your desperate plea.

“I’m comingg, p-please,” you whine, your voice cracked with need. He doesn’t stop, keeping his pace steady until your body finally unravels, a silent scream of pleasure escaping you as you come undone around him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his voice thick with lust. “Keep doing that, my sweet pussy. She loves this dick so much.”

He pulls out of you slowly, both of you taking in the aftermath of the intense connection. The silence lingers for a moment, thick with the weight of the moment, before he carefully shifts, gently pulling away from you. You feel the cool air against your skin as he moves, and you wince slightly at the emptiness.

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a second before moving to kiss your cheek. You close your eyes at the tenderness of the gesture, letting the warmth of his touch soothe you for a brief moment.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he murmurs, breaking the quiet, but his voice is softer now, a little more grounded.

Hyuck disappears into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a pack of wet wipes. He kneels between your legs, gently cleaning you up with slow, deliberate movements. It’s intimate, in a way that makes your chest tighten. His touch is careful, his eyes softer now, the teasing glint momentarily absent.

“You okay?” he asks quietly, discarding the wipe and cupping your knee.

You nod, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “Yeah.”

He hums, wiping himself off quickly before tossing the pack aside. As he stretches, he glances at you, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. “So… when’s this happening again?”

You scoff, shoving at his arm. “Hyuck.”

“What?” He grins, wiggling his eyebrows. “I missed this.”

You hesitate, watching him carefully. There’s something about the way he says it, how his voice dips just a little, that makes your stomach flip. You inhale sharply, fingers tightening in the fabric of your shirt. “Did you miss me?” The words slip out before you can stop them.

His expression shifts slightly. It’s subtle, but you catch it—the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. His teasing demeanor falters for just a second.

“You and me…” You wet your lips, searching his face. “I don’t think we’re good for each other.”

He tilts his head, studying you. Then, ever so casually, he leans in. “We’re really good to each other, though,” he murmurs, eyes glinting as he throws in a playful eyebrow wiggle.

Despite yourself, you laugh, shaking your head. “I’m serious, Hyuck.”

His smirk fades slightly as he watches you, sensing the vulnerability in your gaze. It’s a risk, you both know it. But maybe… maybe it’s worth it.

Then, to your surprise, he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s try it,” he says. No teasing, no jokes this time. Just the words, hanging in the space between you.

“You and me.”

Your heart almost jumps out of your chest, but you don’t want to give too much away. Instead, you school your expression, biting back the overwhelming rush of emotions. You exhale a slow breath, then flash him a teasing smirk.

“Oh, so now you wanna be serious?” You tilt your head, feigning indifference. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

Hyuck rolls his eyes, but there’s something else there—a quiet resolve, maybe even the hint of a smirk. “See? This is why I shouldn’t be nice to you.”

You laugh, nudging his thigh with your foot. “Too late. You already said it.”

He clicks his tongue but doesn’t argue, just watches you with that unreadable look again. The moment lingers, something unspoken weaving between you, but before you can let it settle too deep, he stretches with a groan and checks his phone. His brows lift.

“We’ve only been gone for an hour.” A smirk tugs at his lips. “Think anyone noticed?”

You roll your eyes, adjusting your clothes as you stand. “We should head back before they start asking questions.”

He nods, ruffling his hair in the mirror before tossing you a wink. “You go first, I’ll be right behind you.”

Stepping out into the cool night air, you make your way back down to the bonfire. The warmth of the flames flickers across familiar faces—some are eating desserts, others are splashing in the lake, laughter echoing under the night sky. Everything looks the same, as if the last hour never even happened.

Just as you’re about to grab a drink, Yunjin eyes you curiously, a smirk tugging at her lips.

“Where were you?”

Before you can answer, Hyuck appears beside you, his arm draping lazily over your shoulders. “Just taking a walk,” he says smoothly, an easy grin on his face.

Yunjin hums, clearly unconvinced, but doesn’t press further. You exhale, trying to shake off the lingering heat in your skin as the conversation shifts back to harmless chatter.

The night carries on as if nothing had happened.

But you both know better.

When you reach for a drink, you feel him before you see him—Hyuck, pressing in close behind you, his breath warm against your ear.

“So… wanna go again?”

hyucksmind

omgg thank u sm for 1k guys :((( Sooo I've been thinking to write mark or jeno nexttt what do we think

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Voting ended onApr 19, 2025

#nct dream x reader #mark lee #haechan x reader #nct 127 #nct #nct dream #nct x reader #kpop #nct jeno #jeno x reader #thank u sm #love u guys

you a toxic!hyuck pusher too !!!!!????!!

lowkeyyy....

#i love haechan #meanhyuck4thewin #toxichyuck4lifer #idc I just love him

get over yourself / l.dh

#nct 127 #nct #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct x reader #nct u #mark lee #haechan x reader #haechan #haechan smut #haechan fluff #lee donghyuk x reader #lee donghyuck #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #kpop #nct dream imagines #kpop smut

Phases / (l.dh)

“'Til fate brings you home, I'll wait through your phases” playing “Phases” by PRETTYMUCH

>summary. You promised yourself you were done with him. Done with the late-night calls, the fleeting touches, the way he always left before morning. But some cycles are harder to break—especially when he looks at you like that. >genre. smut, exes, toxic cycle >words. 4.2k >tags. fingering, doll nickname, reader uses she/her pronouns, penetration, praising, a lil possesive, swearing, toxic relationship, sweet aftercare, no condom reader is on pills (pls practice safe sex!), 18+ minors dni!

The music was too loud, the lights too bright, and your friends were long gone.

You started questioning why you even came here in the first place when back at home, a movie and your favorite ice cream were waiting for you. Such a great plan… damn it.

You decided to go to the yard to get some air, hoping to escape the suffocating heat and the loud music that was making your ears ring. You needed a break, a moment to yourself away from the chaos inside.

But when you step out into the front yard, your breath catches in your throat. You hadn’t seen Haechan in months, and yet, the first place you find him is right here. He’s standing there, laughing with a girl, his dark hair messy in that way you always liked. He’s wearing a black graphic t-shirt and ragged, baggy jeans, looking like he hasn't changed at all. His hand casually brushes against her hair, tucking it behind her ear as his smile lights up his face.

It’s so typical.

You can feel your pulse quicken, a mix of frustration and that all-too-familiar ache in your chest. But you don’t turn back. Instead, you clench your jaw and scoff loudly enough for them to hear, the frustration bubbling up before you can stop it. Without another word, you turn on your heel, ready to leave this party — this whole situation — that’s starting to feel like a nightmare.

You're almost out the door when you hear a voice call your name. That voice. The one that always made your knees weak, the one that made you feel like you were falling, even when you promised yourself you wouldn’t again.

"Leaving already?"

You stop in your tracks and turn around. Staring at him dead in the eyes

"Was thinking about it."

Then, the sound of footsteps approaches — slow, deliberate. You can feel the warmth of his presence before he even speaks again.

"You’re really going to leave without saying hi?" he teases, his voice playful.

You keep your eyes on him, trying to mask the wave of emotions crashing inside you. The girl, once laughing beside him, suddenly looks uncomfortable, sensing the shift in the air. She glances between you and Haechan, and with a quick glance, she walks off, leaving the two of you alone.

The moment she’s out of sight, the weight of everything between you and Haechan hits you all at once. Everyone who knows the two of you knows the story. The past that’s never truly gone

Haechan doesn’t move, just watches you, waiting for something. Maybe for you to break. His eyes never leave yours, the familiar intensity of his gaze making your heart race despite everything.

“Now you're acting like you don't care?” he says softly, his voice low, almost like a challenge.

You roll your eyes at him, biting back a sharp retort, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you crumble. But damn, it’s harder than you thought.

“Mmm, so quiet,” he laughs, his gaze never leaving yours. “Weird, considering how much you were craving my attention earlier.”

His voice drips with confidence, but there’s something else there too—something you can’t quite place, yet it pulls at you like a thread. He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, filling the space between you two.

"Don't act like you didn't want me to notice," he adds, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. "You know I always do."

“Is that so?” you reply, voice trembling just slightly. “You think I care enough for you to want your attention?”

Haechan chuckles softly, a sound that sends shivers down your spine. He takes a step closer, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. "You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t, would you?"

You instinctively take a step back, but your heart betrays you, racing as you try to keep some space between the two of you. "I’m leaving," you say, trying to sound confident, but your words lack the force you hoped for.

Haechan watches you carefully, his gaze now intense, almost searching. “You can try,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “But we both know you’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m tired of our nights ending like they always do, Haechan. Truly,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, but it holds more weight than any of the words you've spoken tonight.

Haechan pauses, his expression softening for the briefest moment, like he’s hearing you for the first time. He doesn’t take a step forward this time. Instead, he simply watches you, like he’s trying to understand what you mean.

“Then why don’t you walk away?” he says, his tone quieter now, more raw. There’s no teasing in his voice anymore, just something close to regret—or maybe it's fear.

For a moment, you wonder if he’s the one finally unraveling. But you don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing that doubt in your eyes. “Because I don’t think I can,” you answer, your voice steady despite the rush of emotions swirling inside you.

Haechan steps closer again, but this time there’s no smirk on his face. Just the silence between you two, thick with the weight of everything unsaid.

The air between you two feels charged, as if every moment of tension is building to this exact point. Haechan’s gaze flickers to your lips, and before you can even react, he’s closing the distance, his hand reaching up to gently pull you closer.

His lips are on yours in an instant, fierce, desperate, as if he’s been waiting for this moment as much as you have. You gasp into the kiss, and it’s enough for him to deepen it, his fingers threading through your hair, pulling you in even closer, like he can’t get enough.

The taste of him is intoxicating, his breath hot against your skin as he moves, taking control of the kiss, every motion sending heat through your veins. His other hand finds your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body hard and warm, making it impossible to pull away.

You kiss him back, harder, just as eager, your hands finding their way to his chest, his jaw—anything to pull him even closer, if that’s even possible.

The kiss deepens, both of you fighting for dominance. He bites your lower lip gently, and you gasp, the sharpness of it sending a rush through you. Before you can even process it, his tongue enters your mouth, claiming you in a way that has your body trembling with anticipation.

A soft moan escapes you, unintentional, but it drives him wild. He responds with more urgency, his hands roaming over your body, pulling you flush against him. His lips trail down your neck, sucking gently as you gasp again, his touch igniting every nerve in your skin.

His mouth returns to yours, more demanding now. You fight back, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer, but Haechan isn’t about to let you win so easily.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and intense. “I missed you,” he breathes, his voice rough, his forehead resting against yours. “Missed the way you sound when I kiss you… how you feel against me…”

He presses his lips to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “I could never walk away from this,” he whispers, his voice low and intimate. “Could never find anything that compares to you.”

The words hang in the air between you two, heavy with meaning, as Haechan’s hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing over your skin. You can feel your breath quicken, every inch of your body in overdrive, and for a moment, the world outside of this space disappears.

He leans in again, his lips brushing against yours, slow and soft this time, a sharp contrast to the fire that was there moments ago. It’s as if he’s savoring every second, every inch of you, and you can’t help but melt into it.

Your hand finds its way to his chest, your fingers tracing the contours of his body, and his chest rises and falls with every breath, each one sending more heat through your veins.

You pull back just enough to look at him, your heart racing in your chest as you think, Is this how you want your night to end?

A brief moment of clarity hits you. You know what tomorrow will bring. The morning will come, and he’ll be gone—just like always.

But for now, you’re here, with him, and it feels like you’re on the edge of something you can’t quite explain.

“Tell me this isn’t a mistake,” you whisper, but even as you say it, the question feels empty. You know the answer.

Haechan’s eyes lock onto yours, and for a split second, everything feels uncertain. But then, he smiles—just a little, the familiar smirk that used to drive you crazy—and the distance between you two feels nonexistent.

“It’s not,” he says simply, voice steady but with that same underlying intensity. “It never is.”

You can feel the weight of his words lingering in the air, and even though every part of you wants to fight it, you know the truth: this is just another one of his phases. Another moment where everything feels right, but you both know it’ll slip away once the high fades.

"Do you ever think this is all just a game to you?" you murmur, voice barely audible, your hand still pressed against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

Haechan’s eyes flicker, like he's considering your words. "Maybe," he says after a pause, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "But it's always been like this, hasn't it? We come back together, then we go our separate ways. The cycle just keeps going."

You hate how right he is. It’s never truly over. No matter how many times you’ve tried to move on, you always find yourself back here, caught in his orbit.

“Take me to your place,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words come out firm, like a decision you can’t take back. You feel the weight of the moment, but it doesn’t stop you. There’s this pull, a craving that has only intensified since the party.

He analyzes you, his expression unreadable for a moment, as if he’s gauging whether this is just another fleeting impulse or something deeper. Then, his lips curl into that familiar smirk.

"You don’t have to say it twice," he responds with a hint of amusement, but his eyes narrow slightly. "But are you sure?"

You pause. That familiar question. The one that always makes you wonder if this is the right choice. Your heart races, your mind clouds over with doubt, but the need to be close to him, to feel his presence, is overpowering.

“I’m sure,” you reply, your voice steady even though your thoughts are anything but.

The ride to his place is silent, save for the soft hum of the engine and the music he carefully chose from the playlist you two always jam to. The familiar melodies should be comforting, but tonight, they only make the tension heavier, like an unspoken promise lingering between you. His hand rests on your thigh, rubbing slow, absentminded circles against your skin—so familiar, so easy, like muscle memory. It feels right in a way that makes you second-guess yourself. You can’t deny that this is dangerous—familiar territory where nothing ever stays the same. But at this moment, you don’t care. Maybe because you've done this so many times, you've grown accustomed to the way he makes you feel, to the way you always come back to him.

His room is the same as always, dimly lit, carrying the same scent that you’ve memorized over time. The door clicks shut behind you, and you feel him there, close—so close his warmth seeps into your skin. He leans in, his breath ghosting over the back of your neck.

"You okay?" His voice is softer now, almost like he’s trying to reassure you, but the tension is undeniable.

You turn to face him, your eyes locking with his. For a brief second, doubt flickers in your mind—should you stop before it goes too far? But then he’s right there, so close that if you leaned in, your lips would meet. And you want that. You want him.

You push the hesitation aside. “Yeah,” you whisper. “Just don’t want to regret this.”

His lips twitch into a smirk, amusement flickering in his gaze.

"I must not be doing a great job if I’ve got you thinking so much." His voice is teasing, but there’s an edge to it—like he’s daring you to forget everything else, to just focus on this, on him.

Before you can even respond, his lips crash against yours, all heat and urgency. There’s no room for second thoughts, no space for hesitation. He moves fast, his hands finding your waist, pulling you flush against him as your back presses against the door. The familiar heat rushes through your body, igniting something deep inside you.

His hands start to wander. One moves to cup your breast, his fingers pressing just enough to make you shudder, while the other slides down your back, tracing your spine before settling on your ass. His grip is firm, possessive, making your breath hitch.

"You still thinking?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice dripping with amusement as his fingers tease against your skin. Against that sensitive spot just beneath the waistband of your panties.

But by now, thinking is the last thing on your mind.

His hands move with deliberate slowness, undressing you piece by piece. He presses soft, lingering kisses against your neck as he peels off your top and unhooks your bra, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes darken as he takes you in, a mix of hunger and something else—something deeper. Then, with a smirk, he carefully throws you onto the bed.

You look up at him with starry eyes.

You'll never get over him.

He settles between your legs, his fingers tracing over the fabric of your panties before slipping between your thighs. His touch is teasing, purposeful, massaging slow, lazy circles over your clit while his lips trail down your neck, finding those sweet spots he knows oh so well. The ones that make you melt beneath him.

A whine escapes you as your fingers grip his shoulders, desperate, needy. You tug at his shirt, at the clothes still keeping him from you. You need to see him—feel him.

"You're so impatient," he chuckles against your skin, but his voice is rough, betraying just how much he wants this too.

He gets rid of everything—every last piece of clothing separating you—until there’s nothing left between you but heat and want.

"I'm always thinking about you, Y/N," he murmurs after taking a moment to admire you again, his gaze lingering, almost awed. There’s something lover-like in his eyes, something that shouldn’t be there.

But that can't be. He can't love you. Not when he keeps putting you through everything he does.

You roll your eyes, letting out a small laugh, trying to push the weight of his words aside. "Don't need to go all romantic on me now, Haechan. I know what we came here to do. No need to mask it."

"Oh, but I’m serious." His fingers trail down your body, slow and deliberate, as he leans in close, his lips grazing your ear. "Every. Single. Time. When I'm alone, when I'm with other girls, I’m just imagining your eyes, your sounds, your body... the way your pussy feels like it’s made for me and only me."

He then bites down on your neck, sharp enough to make you gasp, before soothing the spot with slow, open-mouthed kisses, sucking just enough to leave a mark. A reminder.

You moan, your body reacting before you can stop it, your hand instinctively reaching down to palm him through his boxers. But before you can get a proper grip, he grabs your wrist, laughing lowly against your skin.

"Not so fast," he teases, his tone dripping with amusement. "I’m not done pregaming yet."

He slides his fingers between your folds first, just to feel how soaked you already are. A satisfied hum vibrates in his chest, and then, with the kind of cocky patience that drives you insane, he starts rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit—just the way he knows you like it.

Your breath hitches, hips twitching into his touch, and that’s all it takes for his smirk to deepen.

"Fuck," he murmurs, his voice thick with something between amusement and pure hunger. "You’re already dripping, baby. Were you thinking about this all night?"

You just nod desperately, barely able to form words, your body aching for more—aching for him.

He chuckles, low and knowing, before sliding one finger inside you, his lips crashing against yours at the same time. You moan into his mouth, the sensation overwhelming, making your hips move instinctively, chasing more.

But just as quickly, he pulls his fingers away, his hands gripping your hips firmly, holding you still.

"Ah, ah," he tuts, voice dripping with amusement and control. "Be a good doll and take what I give you. No moving… or I stop.

You just say, 'Yes, I promise I'll be a good doll, can you please—'"

But before you can even finish, he slides two fingers inside you, cutting off your words with a sharp gasp. Your back arches, your nails digging into his arms as he curls them just right, like he always does.

He bites his lip, eyes locked on you, watching every little reaction. You look so hot like this—lost in pleasure, completely at his mercy. That image, that expression, it’s burned into his mind from all the times he’s had you like this. And he’ll never get tired of it.

His fingers move in slow, deliberate strokes, teasing, stretching, making you feel every single inch of him. You’re burning up, thighs trembling as he keeps his grip firm on your hip, not letting you move, not letting you chase more than what he’s giving.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice thick with something between admiration and possession. "Always so eager, so needy for me."

He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing lazy circles that make your breath hitch. "You feel that? How fucking wet you are for me?" His smirk deepens when you whimper, your hips twitching against his hold.

"Tell me, doll," he leans in, lips grazing your ear, "is this what you were thinking about back at the party? Were you already dripping for me before you even asked me to bring you here?"

You're so lost in pleasure, your body responding to his every touch, his words like fuel to the fire. You just nod, nodding to everything he says, lost in the haze of his voice and hands.

"Gon' go stupid on me, doll?" His voice is low, teasing, and he watches you closely, reading the way you squirm beneath him. He feels how close you are, how desperately you're holding on, so he picks up the pace. His thumb circles your clit with a precision that drives you wild.

The sound of your moans fills the room, incoherent and desperate, your body trembling as it climbs closer to the edge. “Baby, please... don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m coming,” is all you manage to say, your words a mix of pleading and pure need.

With a loud moan and the continued clenching of your pussy, you come around his fingers, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crash over you, feeling like heaven brought to earth.

Haechan watches you, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he slows his movements, enjoying the way you’ve come undone for him. “That’s it, doll,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky “Mmm, such a good, good doll, only for me, right?”

"Yes," you say, your breath coming in shallow gasps, completely honest, surrendering to the moment. "Fuck me, please." Your words are desperate, tinged with need, and you can't help the pout that forms on your lips. The longing in your voice is unmistakable, a thirst you can't quench, like he's the only source of water in a desert.

"Everything for the princess," he murmurs, a smirk playing on his lips as he pumps his cock slightly, teasing you with his slow, deliberate movements. He watches you carefully as he lines himself up with your entrance, furrowing his brows as he presses the tip against you.

"Fuck... so tight," he groans, his voice thick with desire, as he begins to enter you slowly, savoring every inch of you. Your voice breaks into moans as the stretch of him inside you feels like nothing you've ever experienced before. It’s perfect, it’s maddening—no one will ever make you feel this way again. His lips lower to yours, capturing your breath in a kiss while he begins pounding into you, each thrust slow but deliberate, sending shockwaves through your body. Every thrust pulls a moan from your lips, and you hear the occasional grunt from him, the sound vibrating through your ear, making you wetter with each passing second.

You can’t help but pulse around his shaft in purpose, craving hearing him fall apart. A soft whine escapes him, and his eyes flash with a little surprise.

"God, you’re driving me crazy," he mutters and laughs between breaths, his gaze dark and intense. "You’re so fucking perfect like this, clenching around me” He suddenly grabs your legs, lifting them up and placing them over his shoulders, changing the angle as he drives into you harder. The shift in position has you gasping, and the pleasure intensifies to an almost unbearable level. You can feel every inch of him, his thrusts deeper and faster now, each one making your body tremble.

You're so close to the edge, the feeling of him stretching you just right, hitting spots no one ever has, that you can hardly keep yourself together. Your breath comes in desperate gasps, your moans growing louder, your body almost on the brink of climax. Even though you haven’t quite come yet, you’re so close that it’s almost overwhelming. You can tell by the shallower thrusts and the slight change in his rhythm that Haechan is near his own release too, his control slipping just as much as yours.

“Fuck, doll... I’m close,” he breathes out, his voice low and strained, the intensity of the moment pulling at his control. You can feel him start to falter, his rhythm slightly off as he pushes deeper, his breath uneven.

You can only nod in response, the words failing to come out as you chant a breathless “Yes” repeatedly, your body trembling with the undeniable urge to come undone with him. You both know the inevitable is close, the pressure building in the most delicious, overwhelming way.

He finally unravels, his breath ragged as he reaches his peak, the sound of his pleasure sending you over the edge right along with him. The world blurs for a moment, just pure sensation, and then he slowly collapses on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight, breaths heavy and unsteady.

As the tremors slowly fade, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, a gentle, tender moment after everything. His hands still caress you, his touch grounding you both after the wild pleasure. As you both lay there, his hand gently strokes your hair, a soft gesture that contrasts with the intensity of what just happened. He pulls the covers up around you both, making sure you're warm and comfortable. His touch is soft, almost reverent, as if he wants to make sure you feel cared for, even though the night is winding down.

“You good?” he asks quietly, his voice low but filled with concern. He moves a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment longer than necessary.

You nod, still feeling the aftershocks of everything, but safe in his arms. He gives you a small smile, the usual smirk replaced by something softer, more genuine.

“Let me get you some water,” he says, before disappearing briefly to grab a bottle. When he returns, he hands it to you with a playful, “Gotta keep my doll hydrated, right?”

You take the water gratefully, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest at his thoughtfulness. As you drink, he quietly slips out of the bed, returning shortly with a few cleansing wipes in hand. He sits back down beside you, gently lifting your legs as he begins to carefully clean you up, his touch tender and gentle.

"Hold still," he murmurs, his eyes focused on his task, making sure every last trace of the moment is wiped away. You can’t help but feel a sense of comfort from his care, the way he’s always so considerate, even after everything.

"You’re good," he whispers again, his lips brushing against your temple. "Just rest for a bit."

"Thank you." Your voice is soft, barely above a whisper, but there's sincerity behind it. You snuggle into him, your head resting against his chest as the rhythmic beat of his heart becomes the only sound you focus on. It calms you in a way that words can’t describe, and for the first time tonight, you feel a sense of peace.

But deep down, you already know tomorrow morning will end up like every morning with him.

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