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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

15:45

Donghyuck is shooting you a wide-eyed look, lips set in a pout, batting his lashes and all. His manipulation is as clear as daylight. He knows you can’t resist his charm when he brings out his fatal puppy eyes. Under normal circumstances, you would have given in by now, but this is anything but normal.

You take another look at what you are sure is the ugliest house plant ever, repulsed by the mere sight of it. You don’t understand why Donghyuck would go out of his way to pick the strangest of plants everytime he stepped into a nursery. You remember his past infamous pet plants. His devil’s ivy (which he so lovingly called divy) almost killed Daegal, and his mother of thousands was so revolting that his own mother refused to drop by until he got rid of it.

Now he wants a goddamn sea onion of all things to add to your list of greatest miseries. It’s not even a seedling, it is fully grown and at a point where it just cannot get anymore hideous. The cherry on top is definitely the bulb sitting on top of the soil.

“Stop calling my baby ugly!” He whines.

You sigh, rubbing your temples. You sense an oncoming headache. “Hyuck, there are some ferns over there,” you point in the general direction of some decent-looking plants. “Do you want to take a look at them before we make a decision? I saw some moth orchids too-”

“Baby!” His gripe cuts you off. “We formed an instant connection the moment our eyes met! I just know this is it!”

You don’t want to know what eyes he is talking about. The poor salesboy who had the misfortune of helping you find a plant looks like he is two seconds away from crying. Donghyuck is still giving you his fatal puppy eyes. This plant would ruin your aesthetics.

“Fine,” you relent reluctantly because the headache is getting worse and the salesboy is getting teary eyed. Not because you love Donghyuck or something.

Donghyuck does a small victory dance and cups your cheeks to press a quick kiss on your lips. It doesn’t make your heart somersault into your stomach at all.

That’s just gross.

If months later, you are the one taking care of Mr. Anion (a terrible pun) while Donghyuck (being the irresponsible father that he is) is on a world tour, it isn’t because you love him either. Or whatever.

That’s just gross.

-

Note

Working on your requests. Might take some time:)

Also Donghyuck would 100% be ugly plants enthusiast. He has that type of unhinged energy. Reblog if you agree.

(reblog even if you don’t agree because it’ll help me π_π)

P.S I’ll answer the asks once I’m done writing the requests. I read all of them.

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joyoushyuck
joyoushyuck

Mark loves kissing your stomach.

It isn't sexual, though it does evolve into one more often than not. But his fixation on your stomach is in itself not remotely sexual.

Sometimes, he'd cajole you into dropping the work on hand, only to take your soft hand in his calloused one and lead you into the bedroom.

Streaks of sunlight would pass through the magnificent red curtains, giving your room a warm ambience. With gentle hands, he'd push you to lay back, his own figure hovering above yours.

A press of lips against lips. He'll pull away quickly and shoot you a gorgeous smile. His eyes would then trail down to your stomach, fingers pushing your shirt back subconsciously, the tips brushing against your skin.

He'd run a hand across the expanse of your stomach, eyes glazed over as though he were in a trance. He'd bring his lips to your navel, hot breath fanning your skin, before he'd tentatively graze his lips on your stomach.

You loved it. It'd make your insides do somersaults; your core would flutter and your stomach would combust into a million beautiful butterflies.

The second kiss would be firmer, lips lingering on your skin and tongue peeking out, Mark seemingly not getting enough of you.

He'd nip and bite and paint your skin charmingly, but it always ended with another kiss pressed on your stomach.

joyoushyuck

Yesterday I was just lying down on my room floor, my hand on my bare stomach and I got inspired to write this. It’s crazy how you can force yourself for hours on end and still come out with a less than decent fic, but the ones with decent flow just go off in your head when you are least expecting it.

nct nct dream nct 127 nct drabbles imagine nct imagines mark lee mark lee nct nct 127 mark nct dream mark mark lee x reader mark lee fluff nct fluff nct dream fluff nct 127 fluff tooth rotting fluff syerah fics syerah talks writers on tumblr writers struggle writers block inspiration is a bitch post

Mark loves kissing your stomach.

It isn’t sexual, though it does evolve into one more often than not. But his fixation on your stomach is in itself not remotely sexual.

Sometimes, he’d cajole you into dropping the work on hand, only to take your soft hand in his calloused one and lead you into the bedroom.

Streaks of sunlight would pass through the magnificent red curtains, giving your room a warm ambience. With gentle hands, he’d push you to lay back, his own figure hovering above yours.

A press of lips against lips. He’ll pull away quickly and shoot you a gorgeous smile. His eyes would then trail down to your stomach, fingers pushing your shirt back subconsciously, the tips brushing against your skin.

He’d run a hand across the expanse of your stomach, eyes glazed over as though he were in a trance. He’d bring his lips to your navel, hot breath fanning your skin, before he’d tentatively graze his lips on your stomach.

You loved it. It’d make your insides do somersaults; your core would flutter and your stomach would combust into a million beautiful butterflies.

The second kiss would be firmer, lips lingering on your skin and tongue peeking out, Mark seemingly not getting enough of you.

He’d nip and bite and paint your skin charmingly, but it always ended with another kiss pressed on your stomach.

nct nct dream nct 127 nct drabbles imagine nct imagines mark lee mark lee nct nct 127 mark nct dream mark mark lee x reader mark lee fluff nct fluff nct dream fluff nct 127 fluff tooth rotting fluff syerah fics post nct oneshot mark lee oneshot oneshot
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Timestamps

07:53

You spot Donghyuck in the kitchen. His back is towards you as he pours milk into a glass, shoulders flexing while doing so…

23:16 (minors dni)

The air is hot and humid, sweat glistening on Haechan’s forehead and trickling down the side of his face…

02:24

You fall asleep on Donghyuck’s shoulder half way through movie night, you face buried in the crook of his neck and his head resting on top of yours…

21:06

Donghyuck falls beside you on the bed, breath heavy and chest heaving as he comes down from his high…

09:16

A hand resting on your round stomach and another clutching your waist, you pad into the living room grumpy and disoriented…

06:23

Donghyuck is still sleeping when you wake up…

14:21 (minors dni)

Donghyuck’s palm is warm on your stomach. You are seated on his loveseat, his front pressed to your back, his chin on your shoulder…

19:34 (minors dni)

The last bits of your coherence are stripped off of you when Jeno thrusts a vibrator into your wet folds. Your cries of pleasure drown out his low grunts as he drags a veiny hand through the length of his red, pulsating cock…

15:45

Donghyuck is shooting you a wide-eyed look, lips set in a pout, batting his lashes and all. His manipulation is as clear as daylight. He knows you can’t resist his charm when he brings out his fatal puppy eyes…

00:56

Your hand is raised in front of the door, about to knock, when the door clicks open on its own. Donghyuck doesn’t seem surprised by your presence; his expression is morphed into one of indifference…

15:06

Your head rests on the smooth expanse of Donghyuck’s thigh…

22:37

The golden glow of the streetlights paint the world in warm hues as you walk down the empty sidewalk, the chill of the evening nipping at your skin…

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Drabbles

Lave (minors dni)

Showering with Haechan is never a good idea because the water is turning cooler by the second…

Contemn (minors dni)

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

It is raining pitchforks. Water splashes as you run on the sidewalk, footsteps slippery and attire ruined…

Obsessio

Mark loves kissing your stomach…

Wheeler-dealer

Lee Donghyuck is an opportunist (spoiler: the endearing kind)…

Close enough to feel

The late-night studio buzzed faintly with the hum of old equipment. Donghyuck leaned back in his chair, fingers brushing the guitar strings idly…

Strings attached

The dim light of the dressing room cast a golden glow over the chaos of fabric and mirrors…

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Text posts

Enhypen finds out you have a crush on them

Sunghoon academic rivals to lovers ~ part one

Sunghoon academic rivals to lovers ~ part two

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Pinned Post navigation masterlist joyoushyuck nct dream nct nct 127 nct drabbles enhypen texts enhypen

(minors dni)

requested

19:34

The last bits of your coherence are stripped off of you when Jeno thrusts a vibrator into your wet folds. Your cries of pleasure drown out his low grunts as he drags a veiny hand through the length of his red, pulsating cock.

Your hands are tied to the headboard with Jeno’s belt. The delicious pressure created every time you attempt to tug your hands free borders painful, your arms aching from the lack of movement. Your lips are swollen, bitten raw and absolutely destroyed, chin shining with saliva and cum. A splendid brown bruise sits right above your pulse point, visible for the world to see and know whom you belong to.

Jeno pulls the vibrator out again, moving it on your inner thighs where he knows you are sensitive. The hand stroking his cock switches to teasing your clit instead. Jeno looks so good like this, with his hair mussed up and lips plump, beads of sweat rolling down his face. You want those lips to suck your clit. Jeno has a way of driving you crazy.

When he pushes the vibrator into your hole again, a jolt of pleasure washes over you because it is that spot. And from Jeno’s smug smirk, he damn sure knows what he’s doing. He’s been edging you for so long, you don’t think you’ll last long if he doesn’t move that toy from your hypersensitive bundle of nerves.

“So good, doll,” he praises. The nickname steals an obscene moan out of you. “So pliant and obedient, all for me.”

“Jeno,” you whine. He’s so attractive. The mere sight of him is enough to make you cum. “Please let me cum, please.”

“Not just yet, doll, gotta be patient,” and he says that right before rocking the vibrator on your g-spot. A lone drop of tear slides down your temple because the desperation is bordering insanity now. Your head falls back on the plush pillow, the knot on your stomach tightening with every press of thumb on clit, of toy on sweet spot. It’s tortuous. You love it.

You are so close to snapping, nonsensical babbles of “Jeno, Jen, please, please let me come. Baby please, ‘m so close’’ prompting a good laugh out of said man.

Oh! The humiliation. You think that’s your final straw, that you’re going to break, so close to the edge-

Jeno abruptly pulls the toy out.

The emptiness frustrates you enough to trigger a pathetic sob. Your chest heaves, nipples hard and unattended, eyes brimming with more unshed tears.

“Baby, you are so beautiful,” Jeno murmurs. His eyes have glazed over like he’s drunk. The thought that he’s drunk on you placates the raging fire in you just the slightest bit. “I love you.”

And he’s kissing you sweetly. So sweetly that you almost forget that he has you tied up in your room, edging you for what feels like an eternity. His hand tips your chin back for better access, tongue licking the roof of your mouth.

Your timid “Love you too, Jen,” is what seems to break the sudden spell of serenity.

He presses one last kiss to the corner of your lips, running his thumb over your smudged lipstick and pressing it into your mouth for you to taste yourself, before the hand settles around your neck in a firm grip.

He’s applying just the right amount of pressure to knock the air out of your lungs and make you light-headed. “Jeno, please,” you attempt to say, but it’s reduced to incomprehensible gasps.

Your arms feel sore too. They tingle all over in a way that warns you that when all this is over, you aren’t going to be able to as much as lift a pen. You aren’t bothered by it all that much.

Jeno lines his cock in your entrance and pushes in slowly. A guttural moan escapes his throat, his facade of nonchalance finally breaking now that he’s buried deep inside you, your tight walls clenching around him. “Babe, you are so good for me, so tight, my pretty girl,” it’s his turn to babble. You aren’t capable of forming a response at all, just high pitched whines turning into breathy sounds.

He thrusts into you sloppily, eyes zeroed out on the way your hole takes him in effortlessly. The stretch is just perfect. When he leans down to kiss you - a mess of tongue and saliva more than anything - your eyes roll back and you black out momentarily.

“Doll, you need to stay with me,” Jeno slightly taps your cheek. “Tell me if it is too much, okay?”

You shake your head at that with a little too much vigor. Again, his features morph into one filled with fondness.

It’s when Jeno brings the vibrator to your clit that the knot in your stomach snaps. You come undone, the orgasm washing over you in waves and bringing bouts of inexplicable pleasure. Jeno isn’t far behind because he’s pulling out to come on your stomach soon after.

He’s left you thoroughly drained. He unties the belt and cleans your body with a warm cloth. The moment he tugs you into his chest, you are out like light.

-

Note

1k of pure filth. I really tried. Hope the anon who requested likes it:)

Requests, thoughts, questions are welcomed. My inbox is open!

lee jeno jeno jeno nct nct dream nct nct drabbles drabbles timestamp jeno smut jeno x reader nct smut smut post lee jeno x reader lee jeno smut nct dream smut nct dream drabbles request syerah fics jeno one shot nct oneshot oneshot

(minors dni)

14:21

Donghyuck’s palm is warm on your stomach.

You are seated on his loveseat, his front pressed to your back, his chin on your shoulder.

He plants a fleeting kiss on your neck; it is barely there but your senses are incapable of perceiving nothing but Donghyuck’s touches, his words, him.

He hugs you the slightest bit tighter when his lips land on your jaw. They linger there, sharp teeth grazing skin and tongue licking a stripe across the line of your jaw. You exhale a shaky breath.

The hand on your stomach moves up, thumb slightly brushing your nipple. A shiver runs down your spine, prompting a low chuckle from the devil himself. His chin digs deeper into your shoulder when he takes the corner of your upper lip between his teeth. You tilt your head and attempt to initiate a kiss, but his hold on your cheek is firm and leaves no room for movement. His teeth sink into your cupid’s bow at the same time he rolls a nipple between his fingers, eliciting a breathy moan out of you. His warm breath tickles the sensitive skin of your neck, an undecorated canvas waiting to be ruined.

Donghyuck pulls away only to urge you with a convincing glint in his eyes to lay back on the couch. He pulls your shirt off your body in a swift motion, attention focused on the unmarked expanse of your neck, chest, stomach.

Your stomach feels fuzzy, an eruption of butterflies and a stampede of elephants all at the same time, when his soft lips settle on your stomach. He presses a kiss first at your navel, a resounding ‘muah’ that makes your toes curl. (It also makes your core throb. Which is, of course, highly irrelevant.) Another kiss just below your navel, and another one on your hipline right above your waistband. You don’t realise how much your chest is heaving until he laughs and mumbles a ‘calm down baby’ into your stomach.

You lose it when he presses his lips directly on your core, another moan forced out of you and hands gripping Donghyuck’s hair in desperation. He clicks his tongue at that, features breaking into a devilish smirk, pinning your hands above your head in the blink of an eye. His gaze darkens at the sight of you laid out bare in front of him, chest pushed out, tears at the brink of falling, all just for him.

He’ll take care of you. But before that, he needs to find those handcuffs.

-

Note

My inbox is open. You can send in your thoughts/requests!

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joyoushyuck
joyoushyuck

(minors dni)

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

It is raining pitchforks. Water splashes as you run on the sidewalk, footsteps slippery and attire ruined. You are soaked to your bones and in a desperate need for shelter. That is why you don't think twice and let your feet guide you to the one person you swore you'll never involve yourself with.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He opens the door, countenance unpleasant and hair messy, headphones hung around his neck. The faint buzz of television is audible inside the house. Donghyuck is only wearing a pair of black sweats, his nipples staring back at you in all their perked glory. You try not to stare. You might be pathetically failing.

His lips part in surprise at the sight of your drenched figure. You are shivering, legs weak and the chatter of your teeth resonating loudly in your ears. A warm palm wraps around your elbow and ushers you in.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He deliberately gets your coffee order wrong all the time. He doesn't laugh at your jokes and throws passive aggressive comments at every given opportunity. He flashes all thirty-two of his teeth whenever Karina drops by to say hi, but his jaw locks like a saltwater crocodile the moment he spots you.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He forces you to sit on a chair, drying your hair with a fluffy white towel. His oversized shirt sits just above your knees; you shut your thighs together to cover your bare parts. Your eyes are heavy with sleep as he rubs the towel on your head, so you lean against his (toned) abdomen and close your eyes. He lets you be.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He's waking you up, shaking your shoulder gently. His face is inches away from yours. You pretend you don't notice the way his eyes flick down for a fraction of a second; it might be your sleep muddled brain making things up.

He offers you a hot mug of coffee. He is seated on the other end of the couch, body facing you, seemingly concerned about your state. He is still shirtless, his nipples are still staring back at you, and you aren't able to think straight anymore.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

But you think it's all pretence when you pull him into a kiss and his passion is unrivalled as he kisses back. His hands come to settle on your waist and neck, head tilting to get as close to you as possible. His hand rubs slow circles on your waist in an attempt to calm the both of you.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

“I don't,” he grunts. He's buried deep inside of you. Droplets of sweat glisten on his forehead.

He's kissing you again. You think he likes it from the way he won't stop doing it. You bet your lips are swollen, because his surely are and he wasn't even on the receiving end of all those bites. He nestles his face on the crook of your neck when he comes undone; you've already got off thrice.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He helps you clean with the gentlest hands, softly spreading his fragrant shower gel all over your body - your chest, stomach, back, thighs - leaving butterfly kisses while he's still there. It somehow goes south from there. Again.

He falls to his knees and grips your thighs to keep them open, tongue working wonders on your throbbing clit. He has little to no self-control is what you interpret. Not that you have any to begin with.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He insists you stay over, he'll sleep on the couch if it’ll make you comfortable. When you suggest he take the bed and yo- you don't ever get to complete the sentence because no, he'll never let you do that. You pretend your heart doesn't swell with a little something at that; what were you even pretending for anyway?

Because even though Donghyuck claimed to hate you, he isn't pretending anymore when he tucks you in his chest and cards his fingers through your hair, lulling you to sleep. His hands are holding your head like you mean the world to him. You smell like him too, and it's the most at rest you've been in a long time.

Maybe you aren't pretending anymore too. From the way you are nuzzling into the warm expanse of his (still shirtless) chest to the way your hand absent-mindedly pats his back, you don't think it's an act of cat and mouse.

But you'll not think about it now, you'll save it for when the morning comes. Now, you'll fall into a deep slumber in the embrace of the man whom you've loved forever.

(He's loved you for longer, but you don't know that just yet.)

-

Note

My inbox is open! You can send in your thoughts/requests for any of the dreamies!

joyoushyuck

Never thought this would blow up like it did. The comments were a joy to read. Thank you for all the support<3

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joyoushyuck
joyoushyuck

(minors dni)

Showering with Haechan is never a good idea because the water is turning cooler by the second. Your phone has been ringing non-stop for atleast two minutes now, your alarm ringtone falling on deaf ears despite its blaring. The house is a mess and you'll have to skip breakfast again.

Showering with Haechan is never a good idea because he'll pull your hair and spill the shower gel. He'll steal all the warm water for himself, and then he'll go on to stand under the shower for an additional quarter hour because he needs to 'get into his element.'

Showering with Haechan is never a good idea because he'll land an innocent peck on your lips. His mesmerizing eyes blink at you like you hung the moon in the sky, brown orbs dilated, hair sticking to his forehead. His hold on your waist will tighten ever so slightly when he dives in for a small kiss.

Showering with Haechan is never a good idea because his tongue is down your throat before you know it, your back pressed against the wall, his hands on your neck in a chokehold. His hair is brushed back messily and his eyes are hooded, gazing at you with their most predatory gaze.

Showering with Haechan is never a good idea because his abdomen is warm against your back. His hand is sliding down your wet stomach, smearing water droplets on their wake. Your neck is painted with bruises, Haechan's teeth biting and nipping at your skin. His hand moves down towards your dripping cunt, two fingers sliding in effortlessly.

Showering with Haechan is never a good idea because he's pounding into you and you are begging for him to go faster, deeper, and you want more, more, more. He kisses you sloppily, lips hovering over each other more than actually kissing, your chin dripping with saliva. Your screams echo in the small bathroom. Your eyes roll back and you reach your climax, Haechan following you soon enough.

Showering with Haechan is never a good idea because you are late and hungry and limping on your way to work. You've done a pathetic attempt at covering up your hickeys, and the ghost of his hand is still on your neck.

joyoushyuck

It touched 600 notes! Thanks a lot for the support and engagement<3

donghyuck x reader haechan haechan x reader lee donghyuck lee haechan nct nct 127 nct donghyuck nct dream nct drabbles timestamp donghyuck smut haechan smut nct smut popular syerah talks

06:23

Donghyuck is still sleeping when you wake up.

He looks peaceful, you think. Not a common sight, you’d even call his sleeping form the eighth wonder because a conscious Donghyuck is never calm. His cheeks are puffy, lips set in a cute pout, hair a royal mess. You thread your fingers through his unruly strands in an attempt to tame them.

Donghyuck’s hand is loosely thrown around your waist but you know you couldn’t wiggle out of it even if you tried. Not that you want to; it’s cozier this way with his legs thrown over yours and body moulded perfectly to fit against your curves.

A few stray rays of light escape through your curtains, forming a magical halo around Donghyuck’s face, giving it the softest of glows. Your finger traces his many moles. He looks ethereal like this. You feel an overwhelming amount of love for this man.

You want to protect him, even though the love bites painting his bare torso, the medusa tattoo just above his waist band and his toned biceps don’t call for any protection. If anything, your frangible heart is the only thing that requires a lee from the whirlwind that is your boyfriend.

“You’re staring babe,” and you jump, heart thudding loud and so-not-proud against your chest. The room seems hotter than it was a moment ago, the peaceful ambience destroyed by his usual playfulness. He cracks an eye open and shoots a complacent smirk in your general direction.

“You don’t have to scare me like that, you creep!” You huff, embarassed to face him. You try to get out of his hold; an impossible feat because he works out and you don’t. So you take refuge among the fulffiness of the many pillows thrown over your bed.

“Says the one who was staring at me,” is his smug reply, which earns a slap on his toned chest. Again, he’s hardly affected by it. Atleast he has the decency to pretend it hurts.

Your breathing is still audibly heavy from the shock. He runs a placating hand on your back as a quiet apology. “Good morning,” he mumbles, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Too late for that, don’t you think,” you spit in lieu of a reply, no real bite in your words. He chuckles, the sound arising from what you can only imagine to be the deepest parts of him, so low, so attractive, so domestic.

He kisses your hair with an obnoxiously loud smack and then giggles like a teenage girl because he’s silly like that. Silly and annoying and so, so cute, his existence stimulates your most primal urges; you love him so much your chest hurts.

And you aren’t scared to let him know what he does to you. “I love you.” It’s out of blue, and most definitely not a regular happening. You feel him stiffen, breath catching in his throat and heart beating infinitely faster. The playfulness drains out of him, leaving a sincere man who loves you with his entire being.

His hand on your waist pulls you closer. He kisses you properly this time, lips moving against yours slowly, like he wants to savour this moment as much as you do. When you break the kiss, he rests his forehead on yours, a hand holding your cheek carefully like you are delicate china. Precious. His.

“Me too,” he says breathily. Donghyuck is looking at you - your eyes, nose, lips - searching your face. And when he finds what he’s looking for, “I love you too, my pretty baby. So, so, so much.”

-

Note

inspired by this post (@hugs2doie has some great works, make sure to check out the blog!)

My inbox is open. You can send in your thoughts/requests!

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(minors dni)

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

It is raining pitchforks. Water splashes as you run on the sidewalk, footsteps slippery and attire ruined. You are soaked to your bones and in a desperate need for shelter. That is why you don’t think twice and let your feet guide you to the one person you swore you’ll never involve yourself with.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He opens the door, countenance unpleasant and hair messy, headphones hung around his neck. The faint buzz of television is audible inside the house. Donghyuck is only wearing a pair of black sweats, his nipples staring back at you in all their perked glory. You try not to stare. You might be pathetically failing.

His lips part in surprise at the sight of your drenched figure. You are shivering, legs weak and the chatter of your teeth resonating loudly in your ears. A warm palm wraps around your elbow and ushers you in.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He deliberately gets your coffee order wrong all the time. He doesn’t laugh at your jokes and throws passive aggressive comments at every given opportunity. He flashes all thirty-two of his teeth whenever Karina drops by to say hi, but his jaw locks like a saltwater crocodile the moment he spots you.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He forces you to sit on a chair, drying your hair with a fluffy white towel. His oversized shirt sits just above your knees; you shut your thighs together to cover your bare parts. Your eyes are heavy with sleep as he rubs the towel on your head, so you lean against his (toned) abdomen and close your eyes. He lets you be.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He’s waking you up, shaking your shoulder gently. His face is inches away from yours. You pretend you don’t notice the way his eyes flick down for a fraction of a second; it might be your sleep muddled brain making things up.

He offers you a hot mug of coffee. He is seated on the other end of the couch, body facing you, seemingly concerned about your state. He is still shirtless, his nipples are still staring back at you, and you aren’t able to think straight anymore.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

But you think it’s all pretence when you pull him into a kiss and his passion is unrivalled as he kisses back. His hands come to settle on your waist and neck, head tilting to get as close to you as possible. His hand rubs slow circles on your waist in an attempt to calm the both of you.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

“I don’t,” he grunts. He’s buried deep inside of you. Droplets of sweat glisten on his forehead.

He’s kissing you again. You think he likes it from the way he won’t stop doing it. You bet your lips are swollen, because his surely are and he wasn’t even on the receiving end of all those bites. He nestles his face on the crook of your neck when he comes undone; you’ve already got off thrice.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He helps you clean with the gentlest hands, softly spreading his fragrant shower gel all over your body - your chest, stomach, back, thighs - leaving butterfly kisses while he’s still there. It somehow goes south from there. Again.

He falls to his knees and grips your thighs to keep them open, tongue working wonders on your throbbing clit. He has little to no self-control is what you interpret. Not that you have any to begin with.

Donghyuck claims to hate you.

He insists you stay over, he’ll sleep on the couch if it’ll make you comfortable. When you suggest he take the bed and yo- you don’t ever get to complete the sentence because no, he’ll never let you do that. You pretend your heart doesn’t swell with a little something at that; what were you even pretending for anyway?

Because even though Donghyuck claimed to hate you, he isn’t pretending anymore when he tucks you in his chest and cards his fingers through your hair, lulling you to sleep. His hands are holding your head like you mean the world to him. You smell like him too, and it’s the most at rest you’ve been in a long time.

Maybe you aren’t pretending anymore too. From the way you are nuzzling into the warm expanse of his (still shirtless) chest to the way your hand absent-mindedly pats his back, you don’t think it’s an act of cat and mouse.

But you’ll not think about it now, you’ll save it for when the morning comes. Now, you’ll fall into a deep slumber in the embrace of the man whom you’ve loved forever.

(He’s loved you for longer, but you don’t know that just yet.)

-

Note

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