festive spicy❄️

For the sake of privacy, Jaemin fully enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him. “At least Renjun volunteered to take care and host the actual party after you did all the planning, right?”

You can see compassion in his dreamy eyes, minimally putting your mind at ease. Your altruistic boyfriend always looks on the bright side of things, finding the silver lining in situations.

“Yeah, that would’ve been a nightmare.”

Someone noisily jiggles the bathroom door handle behind Jaemin, successfully ruining the intimate moment as he leans in for a kiss. “Occupied!”

“Y/n?! Are you in there?!” Renjun shouts over the pulsating party music playing on the other side of the thin wood barrier.

You groan purposefully loud enough for the mood killer to hear. “Why?!”

“Can you open the door so we can stop yelling?!”

Jaemin twists the lock and yanks the door inward impatiently. “What do you want?”

“Can you get extra chairs from the shed out back? You know the combo to the lock,” he requests in a nicer tone. “Please?”

“Why can’t you do it?” Jaemin interrogates your smaller friend.

“Yeah, can I tell you the combo so you can get them yourself?”

The substitute host releases the exhausted sigh of a retired, 80 year old man who’s sick and tired of the neighborhood kids playing in his front yard. Renjun was involuntarily cast for the role simply because he owns the most brain cells out of the friend group. Nevertheless, brains or not, he’s getting antsy wearing the actual party host pants that are 1.5x sizes too large for him.

“Fine, I’ll do it,” you say, mostly out of pity for how agitated the introvert appears.

If looks could kill, Renjun’s limp body would be on the floor and Jaemin’s daggered eyes would be held liable for murder. He wanted tonight to be as bearable and stress free as possible for you because he knows what happened to Jeno makes you emotional. Taking care of trivial party chores doesn’t exactly qualify for “stress free” by his standards. “Baby, wait. Drunk college kids are perfectly capable of sitting on the floor.”

“It's not that big of a deal, really.” And certainly not big enough of a deal to kill one of your closest friends over. “I need fresh air anyways.”

“I’ll come with you then,” he says, just like you knew he would.

You open your mouth to accept his offer when an unidentified, urgent knocking at your bedroom door rips your consciousness from dream land.

…..

Another dreaded dose of reality kicks in, figuring out you’ve been alone all along. You’re propped up against your headboard, back pressed to fluffy pillows. Rather than the caring boyfriend of your dreams, your hands lay clasped together on yellowed, delicate pages of a book you mysteriously found on your bed yesterday. You assumed one of your friends left it there as a surprise to somewhat cheer you up on a painful day. The spooky novel you planned on starting tonight is sprawled across your thighs. Technically you did start it, even if only a whopping two paragraphs of Shiley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House before passing out in your solitude. Once more, your eyes comb over the first sentence you got through before passing out in your solitude:

“No live organism can continue for long to exist sanely under conditions of absolute reality; even larks and katydids are supposed (to some) to dream.”

The inception you experienced begs the question if anyone had been knocking at your door in the first place or if that was simply another mind trick. You wouldn’t be surprised if the disturbance was all in your head. There is not a single drop of alcohol in your bloodstream yet you suspect the dissociated allusions are comparable to the effects of the stinging liquid chugged downstairs. Although, the vibration in your pocket notifies you that the not so imaginary culprit is outside in the hallway, forcing you to get out of bed and check on the person interfering with your unscheduled beauty sleep.

“This better be a life or death situation for you to wake me up,” you grumble at the low budget spiderman.

“Dude, I woke you up? Seriously? I’m really sorry, I didn’t know you were actually sleeping,” Mark rambles apologetically. “I thought you were just, like, avoiding coming outside because Jaemin’s here with this other girl and they’re like basically fucking with their clothes on in the living room and you didn’t want to-”

“Wait, he’s already with another girl?”

Mark pulls his halloween mask off in a panic. “Holy shit, you didn’t know.”

“But it’s been less than a month since…” Your voice trails off halfway through the silent, heart shattering fact, as if you didn’t have enough of a reason to cry today.

“Fuck, I’m really, really so, so sorry, y/n.” The superhero has the same idea as your dream ex boyfriend did, seeking solace in your room by barging in through the sliver in which you opened the door. He locks it behind him, doing everything in his power to prevent the ex from seeing the tears that’ll likely be shed in his cursed name. “I don’t know if it matters but you’re definitely, like, hotter than she is.”

“Wow, I feel so much better now, thanks,” you deadpan.

Mark pulls you in for a hug you didn't know you needed right now. The extra padding from the costume is oddly comforting. You don’t count the exact seconds of the embrace but he holds you long enough to feel as emotionally supported as holding Jaemin’s hand for 10 seconds would feel. That support would have to suffice for the time being.

“I remember you said it’s ’cuz of guilt, right? But, um, would you ever consider getting back together? I’m almost positive he’s, like, trying to make you jealous or he wouldn’t have come.”

Honing your emotional distancing skills, you wiggle out of his artificially bulky arms. You regain your composure, smoothing out your vampire costume with your hands. Even if you suspected you wouldn’t leave your room, because of the fact that you talked about being vampires with Jeno earlier this year, it would be a crime against siblinghood to leave the costume in your closet to rot. Pulling out of Mark’s hug calls home the loneliness that settled into your own rotting skin at the end of the summer.

“What did you need earlier?” A spark of intuition coerces you to take a shot in the dark before he speaks. “Actually, wait… were you going to ask me about extra chairs?”

“Oh my GAWD! How did you know I was gonna say that?!”

How DID you know that?

“Lucky guess, maybe? I had a weird dream about chairs for some reason.”

“Damn, really? That’s shit is fucking crazy, wow.”

You weigh your options at the moment: stay in your lonely room and wallow about Jaemin replacing you so easily and freshly becoming an only child in your family, OR distract yourself with a trivial task that requires no comprehension and gets your blood pumping for a little while. “Actually, I’ll go get the chairs for you.”

Concern is instantly etched into your friend’s face as you usher him out into the hallway. “Hello no! Dude, don’t even trip, like, I got you. Just tell me the combo to the lock and I’ll go get them instead.”

“Thanks, Mark, but I think I need some fresh air right now.”

Spiderman looks conflicted about your decision but reluctantly moves out of your way. He’s right on your tail heading towards the back door and doesn’t hesitate to grab your hand when you pass by your ex on the packed living room couch.

Ever since middle school, Jeno and Jaemin had been inseparable on Halloween, often planning couples costumes that you participated in every so often. Never in a million years would you have pictured some girl you’ve never seen before on top of him, grinding on Jaemin in public, no less. But here you are. On the other hand, you never pictured a halloween without your brother either.

Life changes whether you want it to or not, and you either accept it or drown in the memories of the past, trying to relive the moments you treasured most.

Your feet take root in the amber oak wood floor, shock feeding your visceral reaction. You plant yourself smack dab in the middle of the swaying, half tipsy/half drunk costumed, college crowd.

If Jeno wasn’t around from the very start, was this what Jaemin would’ve been doing all along? Charming hot girls with a simple cheeky smile and a flirty wink to sweet talk them into his lap? Honestly, it would probably be more than just his lap.

Jaemin locks eyes with you and squeezes the girl's ass tightly, swirling her hips around and grinding down faster on his unquestionably hard erection. You imagine that when the party's over, he’ll take that girl to his car and fuck her rough, hard and dirty. Foggy green blurs over your eyes momentarily, while red heat blazes between your legs, remembering and imagining the times that he used to give it to you like when you two wanted to switch things up after having deep and passionate sex every other day. You’d chalk it up to pent up sexual frustration making you miss it like crazy. You feel like you’d do nearly anything to get fucked as good as Jaemin could fuck you but seriously doubt there’s a single person on earth who would be able to do that.

Perhaps Mark was right and the whole point of this public, explicit performance was some toxic way of trying to make you regret ending things with him. But after what you’ve seen tonight, it shouldn’t matter in the slightest. You simply wish you could feel something other than lonely, needy and stupidly jealous for the rest of the night.

Mark tugs on your vampire cape then nudges you forward. You break eye contact with your once dream boyfriend, releasing you from whatever magical spell he cast on you. Fighting the livid urge to say something to them, you bolt to the exit, sensing his enigmatic glare follow you through the sea of party goers. He had kept his eyes peeled for you the entire night. Not that you care or anything (or not that you should care.) Jaemin was trying to wind you up and you despise the fact that it is working. He spies Mark’s hand in yours through a momentary gap of college students and is swept up in a whirlwind of emotions he’d prefer to bury in the ground.

Elbowing your way through numerous sweaty bodies, you successfully reach the sliding glass door to the backyard. You put your hands on Mark’s chest, preventing him from following you out into the night. “I kind of want a moment alone, okay? Don’t worry, I’ll be right back,” you promise him.

Your roommates all agreed that the backyard should be off limits during the party and you’re relieved to find that the handwritten, crooked sign that Jisung taped to the see-through door did the trick. To ensure that the door is left open a smidgen, you grab a twig near the pool and jam it in the door track.

The backyard shed houses eight folding chairs and you’re determined to fetch the whole collection. You wrangle the cobweb-clad chairs Mark requested out of the storage space and lean them up against the side until all of them are out. In order to save time, you take two chairs with each trip. You take extra care going by the pool covered in its dark red protective plastic tarp. The heavy folding chairs scrape along the cool pathway leading from the shed to the glass doors and the screeching sound of metal on cement echoes over the wooden fence of your backyard perimeter, pouring into the neighborhood’s vacant streets. It is late enough into the night that every kid who lived within a ten block radius had called it a day and gone home to binge the sugary treats they reeled in.

You reminisce about the times that you and Jeno would return from trick-or-treating as children. As soon as you dumped your halloween hauls on the kitchen table, Jeno began bargaining with you for the sweet, jelly candy pieces that he loved. You and your brother were far closer than you’d say most siblings were and didn’t fight nearly as much as others, so it was all the same to you whether he got more of the jelly candies. By the end of your fair trade off, you would be the new owner of a large chocolate ratio and it barely mattered if you liked the jelly treats too.

With six chairs down and two to go, you scoop up the remaining few and lock the shed. Pivoting around, a stranger blocking your path appears seemingly out of nowhere. “Hey, what are you doing out here? The party’s inside only.”

You look the mysterious guy up and down, pondering what his costume is supposed to be. Light illuminates half of his shadowy figure. He's sporting a black-on-black attire of thoroughly ripped jeans, a plain black t-shirt and a chic leather jacket. On his head sits a dark bucket hat, partially shielding silver dangly earrings. “Did you miss the sign that said the backyard is off limits?”

“I’ve been watching you for sometime now, y/n,” he proudly says.

“Ohhh, are you playing a stalker for halloween?” you ask. “I haven’t watched a full episode of You on netflix but I don’t think your outfit matches that one guy Joe Goldberg.”

“Today’s your lucky day.”

“Really? And why is that?” You drag the chairs around to your hip, preparing for your return once he vacates the premises.

“I'm in a pretty good mood today… so I’ve decided to give you a second chance.” The smug smile on his face makes the hairs on the back of your stand up.

“What are you talking about?” He appears amused by your soured expression. “Look, get out of my way. My boyfriend is waiting for me inside.”

“Hmm, your boyfriend… I thought you broke up with Jaemin because of your dead brother? Or are you talking about the religious one who’s been flirting with you all night?”

“How did you-? God, it doesn’t fucking matter.” Moving to push past him, he grabs your forearm, his hand searing hot and branding your skin with sweltering heat. The fiery feeling ripples through your arm like a flattened pebble skipped on the surface of a boiling pond.

He snickers as you leap back in pain, looking down at the hole that the high temperature burned through your long sleeve costume. “Oh, come on, y/n. I didn’t hurt that bad. You’re totally being overdramatic.”

You hold your hurt arm gingery. “Really? Then why don’t I brand your arm with a hot iron and we’ll see how it feels.”

He sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes. Caving into your noisy complaints, he snaps his fingers, and the pain dissolves. The only remnants of its existence being a fuzzy sensation similar to your foot falling asleep, fading until it's completely gone. “So, here’s how it’s going to go, sweetheart. I’m interested in a certain story of yours about the-”

“I’m not telling you shit,” you spit out.

He pokes his tongue into the inside of his cheek, jerking his head disappointingly. “-most life changing night of your life”

“Go fuck yourself.” Your bold insult lures him in closer. You back up as far as you can manage before your back hits the shed door. Hitting it with a hard thud, the impact knocks the majority of the wind from your lungs and you sputter for air.

“You have no choice, princess. Either I’m finding out what I wanna know or your fate is sealed and you drown.” He gestures to the pool over his shoulder. “See that pool? You wouldn’t believe how many people trip and fall in those and then get caught under the tarps and-” The stranger gestures to his neck as if getting one’s throat slit. “You know what I mean.”

Your throat feels dry, whittling your question down to quiet words. “Who are you?”

“I’m glad you asked. It took you long enough.” The man twirls his wrist gracefully and a sleek black cane with an ivory skull handle pops out of thin air. More heart stopping than that is what was hidden under the bucket hat that he snaps away - pitch black horns peeking through his caramel hair.

“You probably know me from that old, stupid fucking holy book but my close friends call me Haechan.”

“You’re… the devil?” you guess, testing the waters.

“You know, I never really cared for that name. Something about it is just so-” He cringes and shivers like a chill went down his spine.

“What abouuttt Lucifer? Is that correct?”

His nose scrunches up disapprovingly. “Ugh, you know what? Let’s pretend to be close friends tonight, k?”

“Okay, s-sure… Haechan.”

The devil smiles, satisfied with your response and patting your head condescendingly. “Good girl! Now, where were we, hm?” Haechan raises his eyebrows like he’s encouraging you to answer.

“Uh, you had said something like my most special-”

“Life changing,” he scolds. “I said life changing.”

You nod several times. “Sorry, yeah, that’s what I meant. Life changing night of my life.”

“Corrrrect. So, any ideas what night I’m talking about?”

You roll your head back, looking to the array of stars scattered across the sparkling midnight sky for answers. The high stakes situation effectively beats your thought process with a mallet while you wrack your brain for whatever particular period he’s referring to. Coming up empty handed, you stare at your feet, and shake your head regretfully. “Can I get a hint?”

Haechan sighs almost sympathetically. “Aw, cute. You’ve buried the memory.” You wince as he grabs your jaw. Surprisingly, his action is gentle and his fingers are familiar. He raises your chin, staring into your soul when your eyes meet. “We’ll just have to fix that then.”

He taps his cane against the ground and within a blink of an eye, you’re in a new location. “Recognize this place?” he asks, turning your head to face your new surroundings in a storage closet. It’s bigger than the shed with a much taller roof, walls with cluttered shelves and floor overrun with an extensive alcohol collection, carefully packed away in large cardboard boxes and stacked wooden crates. “By the way, I should mention that the date is August 13th, 2021.”

“Then it’s… Jaemin’s birthday.” you slowly reply, studying every miniscule detail of the place like it’s the very last time you’ll ever see it.

“Where?”

“We were on my family’s boat for his party.” You stumble into the time traveler as the boat teeters from severely choppy waves.

Everyone in attendance underestimated the major storm that had rapidly rolled in that evening … at least one of you should have known that ignoring the obvious logical course of action for the sake of one silly party was a recipe for disaster.

“And what significant, life changing things happen tonight? I’ll give you a hint: there’s two of them.”

“Well, first there’s me and Jaemin… and also-” The closet door handle dips and your voice trails off.

“Yes? And?”

“And Jeno di-” You gasp in disbelief, now face-to face with your brother; although Jeno seems to stare straight through you.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you, y/n,” Haechan painfully pressures you for the answer.

Your brother crouched down, carefully shuffling a few wine bottles around to fish more champagne from a cardboard box at your feet. The clinking noises of glass-on-glass paralleled your heart on the brink of shattering.

“And my brother dies today.”

Jeno made a speedy exit, accidentally slamming the door behind him and bringing you to flinch involuntarily .

“But do you remember how he died? Actually, let me rephrase that. Did you see how he died?”

“N-no,” you whisper.

“That’s okay, princess. Let's fast forward 42 minutes then. I wanna get to the main event, don’t you?” the Devil proposes. “After the cake cutting and all that other shit, what happens in here?”

“Um, Jaemin and I happen in here.”

“Care to clarify on that?”

“If you know what happens next, then why are you asking me? Why are we fucking here in the first place?!” you shout.

You know it’s risky to take out your frustration on him and you don’t want to push your luck, but at the moment you can’t hold it back, you just saw the person you buried in a hollow box that was engraved in his name months ago. How are you supposed to react to something like that?

Haechan smirks, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “Hey, don’t raise your voice at me, sweetheart,” he says smoothly. “I’m giving you a chance here.”

“A chance? For what? You already said I’m drowning in my pool so what’s the point of all this?”

He casually throws an arm over your shoulder, pretending you’ve been close friends for years like he said earlier. “I think your case is interesting… perhaps interesting enough to reverse your fate in hell. But I can’t relive human moments unless I’m with the witnesses themselves. And so that’s what we’re doing! Reliving your most interesting life moments which just happen to be on this night.”

On his last syllable, he taps his cane on the ground like the first instance of him changing time although now the reality jumps ahead to the moment where you and your present ex were in the storage closet together. It was on this night that the birthday boy had mustered up the courage to make a move on his best friend’s sister. He had been dying for a spare moment alone with you, finally ready to cut the dense, sexual tension; whereas you were looking for the toolbox containing the only pair of scissors to open his presents.

“I’m skipping to the juiciest part if that’s alright with you,” Haechan comments. Popcorn magically pops into his hands and he chews obnoxiously as the action begins. He snaps his fingers and the insufferable show commences at 9:48 p.m. on the dot.

…..

Jaemin’s undeniably beautiful face was dangerously close to yours. Sirens went off in your head. You envisioned emergency lights strobing inside the cramped cabin. The warning signs rang loud and clear and you couldn’t locate any glowing, red escape exits.

But who even said you wanted to escape? You didn’t need, nor did you want, saving. And that was the problem.

You should have been doing everything in your power to remove yourself from the situation. Jaemin was your brother’s best friend. He was given explicit orders to steer clear of you; granted, that was a blanket warning for all his friends over 5 years ago and Jeno didn’t single him out, it still kind of applies, right? If anything, it would be worse to find Jaemin in violation of his wishes than the others. There was no question about whether Jeno would be angrier if he was the one to lay a single finger on you. But right then, as his eyes slowly fell to your lips, every ounce of your willpower plummeted to the ocean floor below the storage closet on the boat.

To hell with Jeno’s stupid ultimatum. Just give into lust already.

…

“Damn, you ‘eally thought tha’? Wha’ uh coincidence you said ‘ell, righ’?” Haechan mumbles, munching on a huge bite of buttery popcorn while the memory plays out. You’re aware that he's trying to provoke you but just because you’re aware of his intentions, doesn’t mean you can stop yourself from falling for the bait.

…

“Jaemin… ” you whispered just as his hand slid up the base of your neck and guided your mouth to meet his. You mindlessly reached up to the dusty shelf overhead and placed the long, metal scissors next to the toolbox you found them in. You couldn’t care less about opening the birthday boy’s presents at this point. Your core tightly clenched around nothing as the familiar fluttering kindles the insatiable heat that you had been feeling around him for years.

Jaemin was like cotton candy- when it first meets your lips, it’s flavorless. It takes a second to sink in that what you’re tasting is more than just fluff. It's real and never in your entire life have you tasted something so sweet. He kissed you tenderly for what felt like an eternity before his mouth grew greedy for more. You threw your arms around his neck when his hands dropped to grip your hips.

“Baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he spilled shamelessly against your lips.

In the heat of the moment, he lifted you up to sit on a tall crate nearest to the door. Your party dress rode up as he slotted himself between your thighs. You parted your lips for his eager tongue to slip inside, moaning into his mouth. Feeling his hard-on rub against your panties brought the new exposure to your attention. If he wasn’t wearing pants himself, you’re sure he would have felt the sticky slick seeping through them.

You pulled out of the kiss with a worried expression on your face. “Jaemin, wait. I’m going to stain your pants.”

He looked down to where a small wet patch had formed over his crotch and quietly laughed. “Aw, baby...” His hands roamed down to squeeze your mid-thighs. Hauling your body to the very edge, he kneeled to place a single kiss over the flimsy, damp material. You twitched at the slightest pressure, aching to be touched by Jaemin in that very spot. The cherried smile on his lips fell as he stood back up. He leaned in real close to you with a wild look in his eyes “… I don’t fucking care.”

When Jaemin’s mouth crashed into yours, it was like cotton candy all over again.

This is happening, you thought.

Your brother and his friends could be standing directly outside the door and this is happening. You didn’t even consider the fact that he was going to have to go out there and rejoin the celebration in his name wearing the same pants printed with your cum. In your defense though, he was the reason you were wet in the first place, so whose fault was it really?

Jaemin hooked a finger under the waistband of your pesky article of clothing. “Can I-”

“Yes, please,” you answered breathlessly.

…

Haechan nudges your side when he notices you cover your eyes. “Hey, come on! Move your hands, sweetheart. You’re missing all the action!”

…

“Hmm, so needy.” You drew in a sudden breath of air when his fingers rimmed your entrance, slipping inside you five seconds later and curling up to massage your buzzing spot. “I didn’t picture you’d be so needy for me.”

“What did you p-picture doing to me?”

“Baby, I pictured myself doing everything to you. Things like this-” Jaemin’s mouth connected with your clit, providing your body with that tight sensation that made your toes curl. His free hand tugged the top of your dress down to reveal your breasts; Jaemin went back and forth between tweaking your nipples and kneading your chest aggressively.

…

Your hands don’t budge, remaining on your eyes despite Haechan’s order. The blatant defiance leads him to dismiss his magical popcorn with the wave of a hand. He loops his cane around you, dragging you back to meet his front side, and securing your body to his. You instinctively grab the cane caging you in, both hands clasped over his.

To be clear, Haechan didn’t mean for it to happen like this. Admittedly, he did imagine you naked, tied up and powerless the first time he saw you last week but he had no intention to act on it. He contemplated whether taking you home, fastening you to his special wall, and using an endless amount of toys on you would be unprofessional; but then it hit him… he’s the devil. To think any rules or mandates can hold him back is laughable.

Besides, he had been hearing your thoughts all night: you’d “do nearly anything to get fucked as good as Jaemin could fuck you but seriously doubt there’s a single person on earth who would be able to do that.”

And maybe you’re probably right; maybe there truly isn’t a single person on earth who could make you feel as good as Jaemin; but lucky for you, that statement doesn’t exactly apply to Haechan. Plus he can’t put his incessant competitiveness to rest at the moment; all he wants to do is prove to you he can fuck you better than Jaemin ever could in his dreams; and that’s exactly what he plans on doing.

For some reason, you didn’t think it was possible for someone like Haechan to have the capacity for arousal. Your mind goes blank for a handful of moments finding that your rationale regarding the devil falls short. Feeling his stiff erection pressing against your ass, your eyes flutter closed. It immediately occurs to you that you’ve never been with someone as large as Haechan. You hum, turned on by his size and sexually deprived for weeks now.

“Feels good, huh?” the Devil tempts.

“Yesss,” you hiss, heat vibrating through your body.

You don’t know how to describe it. There’s no other explanation than it’s simply another compulsive rush of hysterical lust flooding your bloodstream. The lust you felt with Jaemin grew stronger overtime; but the glowing yearning with your ex was distinctly different from the nearly instant lust you possessed for the fallen angel. There’s a possibility that it’s because you used to have sex with Jaemin all the time and since the break up, you haven’t been filled, but you want Haechan so badly that it almost hurts. Throwing all caution to the wind and ignoring hundreds upon hundreds of red flags waving before your eyes, you give into the striking lust for a second time.

Lolling your head to the side, you give Haechan’s tongue access to your neck. He licks a strip up your neck, anchoring his mouth to the spot below your ear. Grinding against Haechan and focusing on the present-time arousal is distracting enough to miss the hot moments that led up to Jaemin’s first thrust into your opening. The buzzing captivates every ounce of your consciousness at the moment.

“H-haechan,” you call out as he repeats some of the same actions Jaemin did to your body over the summer. His fingers slipping in the front of your pants and diving straight into your wetness. He sets his cane on another box and spins you around, ripping the costume cape off your neck with plans to bend you over another stack of steady, wooden crates piled as tall as your waist. You undue the front button of your jeans and the zipper for him to easily shimmy your pants and panties halfway down your legs. Haechan has to help you unhook the thin threads of your long sleeved shirt that get snagged on your earring as you try to wrangle it over your head. You lay your shirt down on the wooden surface under your chest and bend over as soon as possible, folding your arms under your head and perking your ass up.

“Look at this little slut we have here,” Haechan snickers after your hurried undressing. “Jaemin’s right, you really are needy.”

You whine in protest. “I’m not a slut.”

Haechan gets on his knees for a closer look at your slit. “Y/n, you’re so wet, you’re dripping on your pants. Don’t you feel that?” You twitch when his fingertips part your wet folds. This time you do feel arousal leak out of you and trickle below just like he said. He blows cool air on your exposed parts, making you quiver. Doing it again, he takes a mental snapshot of your core pinching together compulsively as more sticky cum is squeezed out from your opening. “Seriously, you’re making such a mess, y/n. What a fucking whore.”

Haechan doesn’t spare a second to hear your weak objection before his mouth is slurping your juices. Eating you out savagely, his hands remained where they were, holding your lips wide open. You twist your neck to the side, bearing retrospective witness to Jaemin roughly pounding into you two feet away. Surveying the sex act from a different perspective is satisfying in an entirely different way than the one you had months ago. He’s holding you underneath him basically within an arm's length away. It’s probably in your imagination but seeing it happen like this has you feeling nearly twice the amount of pleasure with the devil tongue fucking you simultaneously as your ex boyfriend pleasured you too.

Come to think of it, it’s difficult to grapple with the reality of this situation and whether this whole thing is in your mind or not. What if this is another part of the crazy dream/flashback inception from earlier?

It’s an outlandish scenario for the Devil to show up on halloween, threaten your life, transport you to not only a different place on earth but a different place in time, watch you and Jaemin fuck and then get you naked. There’s also a strong likelihood you and Haechan will do the same exact dirty deed as is demonstrated next to you.

There’s no way on earth this is real.

The owner of the expert tongue petting your folds stops what he’s doing and gets to his feet. “Oh, baby, it’s real alright,” he says, reading your mind. He stands right side up and steps in front of your line of sight, partially blocking the show. “But even if this isn’t real… don’t you want to do the ‘same exact dirty deed’ with me? Yes or No.”

“I- yes. I want it with you,” you confirm with certainty. You lift your chest off of the crate to turn around and face him. Your jeans are still only lowered to your knees and you have to waddle a bit to fully make the rotation.

Haechan grabs your jaw and licks along your bottom lip. “That’s what I thought, slut,” he whispers sinisterly.

He smashes your lips together with haste like he’s the one in a hurry now, wasting no time to penetrate the seam of your lips. Whereas Jaemin was cotton candy, you consider Haechan to be sour candy pop rocks. If you had to put it into words how his kisses felt, you would say your mouth is fizzing with tiny, thrilling electric shocks radiating from your jaw to your fingertips. If by chance fireworks had a flavor, that’s what Haechan would taste like.

His hand slips down from your jaw to your throat, mildly choking you before going all out like he intends to do to your body. “You think you can take all of me, y/n?”

“I can take it, I know I can take it,” your lust compels you to cry without a second thought. You cling onto the black front flaps of his leather jacket desperately. “Haechan, please.”

“If you say so, sweetheart.” He snaps his fingers and both of your bodies are instantly naked; not only that, but your hands are handcuffed behind your back. Haechan’s hand pushes you flat to the crate, bending you over again for his personal use. He swipes his fingers straight through your slit one time, collecting some of your dripping cum in his hand, and jerking himself off for a moment. His slick cock prods your opening, forcing you to take deep breaths in preparation for the stinging stretch you know is coming. “Remember you asked for this.”

You nod timidly before he pushes his thick cock inside you. Haechan is so much bigger than Jaemin but he takes you at an unexpectedly slower pace than you imagined someone as demonic like him would treat you to. He licks his lips hearing you whimper as he plunges deeper, reaching spots inside you that have never been touched by any man or sex toy of yours in reality. You snivel, feeling fortunate enough to have worn waterproof mascara tonight when a few tears trail down your cheeks from the throbbing pain of your walls spreading wider.

“Aww, you’re doing so well, baby,” Haechan coos, petting your head. “Giving me such pretty tears too.”

You’re on the brink of fully taking his cock inside you when he gets stuck and can’t push any further into your tightness. He stills, patiently waiting for you to accommodate his size. Drastically uncharacteristic of him, he opts to treat you delicately before blowing your mind. He’ll make you suffer with the utmost devastating alternative very soon. In the meantime, you two watch your past self moaning out Jaemin’s name while he repeatedly pumped his whole length inside you with much greater ease.

…

“I thought about this all night, y/n,” Jaemin huffed. “And after we cut my cake, I watched you lick up your fork for the remainder of the frosting on your plate over and over again.”

“Hah, J-Jaemin, I did that on purpose. I knew you were staring at me. You didn’t exactly try to hide it,” you teased, biting your bottom lip.

He dug his fingers into the sides of your lower thighs. “How long have you known? How long have you known I wanted you?”

“I think it was t-two weeks after we met,” you panted. “I’m seriously surprised J-Jeno didn’t notice you basically undressing me with your eyes all the fucking time.”

He lifted your legs up higher, incredibly improving the angle in which he was pummeling into you. “You know what? I’m glad you knew.” Looking down at your face with a dark expression that cranked up the tense, contracting muscles inside your core. “What about me jerking off to you every night, huh? Did you play with yourself and picture me fucking you and making you come all night?”

“Yesss,” you struggled to moan as he started rubbing your clit. “I thought about it every night.” You were close to your climax by that point. All you needed was another minute of Jaemin fucking you as hard as he possibly could before you’d burst back then.

…

Considering how large Haechan is, the biting pain of nearly being stuffed full subsides fairly quickly. “Keep… going,” you wheeze over a minute later, eager for the rest of him to push past your aching opening. “I can take it, I promise.”

“I know you can, sweetie,” the Devil remarks in a sweet tone, calmly rubbing your ass a handful of times. He rips a sharp cry from your throat when he harshly smacks your unsuspecting skin. “I know you can.”

He sinks his cock inside you in one swift motion. Haechan’s jaw rarely drops, perhaps being witness to an event that warrants such amazement every half millennia or so. But watching your throbbing, tight hole fully swallow his big cock is one of those special exceptions. His pelvis presses into your ass and he takes a moment to savor the feeling of being completely snug inside you. The stinging pain forces you whimper, but the involuntary response is mostly derived from pleasure rather than pain. He fills you up like you’ve never been filled before, hitting your deepest, most sensitive spots easily.

Your eyes flick to where Jaemin’s cock was disappearing inside you in August, fixating on your past self’s climax and how her face scrunched up.

“I remember how good that felt,” you breathe out. You see her scramble off the box once she came down from the hazy high that your ex had caused and get on her knees. You had opened your mouth, taking his cock past your swollen lips and hummed around the base. Jaemin chewed on the inside of his cheek as you readily invited him down your throat.

Actually, come to think of it, you draw a blank reflecting on how Jaemin looked when he came back then. You spend a majority of your brain power on trying to remember what happened next after the show instead of getting fucked nice and deep like you should be.

What little was left of Haechan’s soft side bows out for the night. You squeal as he wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you flat against his warm chest out of nowhere. While your worn out, trembling body has developed a shear layer of sweat, his honey skin is perfectly dry. He snaps his fingers, stopping time on the summer memory.

Haechan slowly slides out of you only to ram his large cock back inside. “Pay attention to me and me only, got it?” he sternly orders.

There’s something about his strict tone that turns you on even more and you can feel yourself growing wetter. It's another one of those unexplainable sensations to add to the list of many others from tonight. “I’m- I’m all yours,” you sob.

“All mine? Ha, I like the sound of that,” he huffs cockily.

His rhythm mirrors that of the first powerful one, nice and steady at the start. Every snap of his hips has a forceful drive behind them, extracting strained noises from your gaping mouth. Haechan snakes one hand around your neck, clamping onto the sides of your throat and yanking you back like he did two minutes ago while his other hand tightly grips your waist.

He diligently defiles and chokes you like this for dozens of moments before checking on what you can really handle. “How you feeling, baby? Too much for you to handle?”

“No, it-it’s perfect,” you wheeze. “Haechan, you’re perfect.”

“I’d say this pretty little pussy of yours is perfect too.” He releases your throat and you gasp, filling your lungs with a greater quantity of oxygen than what you had been forced to get by with. You’re slightly disappointed that he let go of your throat because, to your surprise, you like being choked by Haechan. You earn another harsh blow to your ass when you don’t respond to the compliment. “This is where you’re supposed to say thank you to me, you whore.”

“T-thank you, Haechan,” you manage to reply.

“What a very good girl you are, y/n.” Another slightly lighter spank lands on your stinging skin. “And you’re so welcome.”

Abandoning the steady, slower pace for something more his style, he runs his hands up your back and secures them to your shoulders. He clutches your skin so hard that you might believe he has talons. Haechan uses your shoulders as leverage to control how fast he pummels into you, rocking in and out of your melting entrance skillfully.

10% of your mind is ponders several questions about this supposedly “present” affair happening at the moment:

Assuming he is the devil, you wonder what practice he has with this sort of thing. Being that he’s obviously thoroughly experienced and a clearly a master of his sexual craft, how often does he fuck mortals?

of every mortal who has undoubtedly sinned, why you?

and last but certainly not least, why do you like this so much? Is it the exciting oddity in relation to seeing Jaemin and you of the past, the desperate persistent sexual frustration from being deprived of daily sex like before, or the extremity of Haechan defiling you?

No matter what you’re thinking, the devil can easily fish any thought out of yours out of your mind. “I answered that second question already, y/n. Did you hit your head and forget already?” he torments you, running his hands down your arched back, anchoring them to your love handles instead. “Firstly, of all my trips to earth, something like this happens maybe once in a thousand blue moons.”

“Something like this?” you ask. You’re hyper aware now that he can read your mind but your curiosity urges you to forsake the limited supply of air in your burning lungs for answers.

“Something likkkee giving it to a mortal, you know? Rough and hard and dirty. I like it like that.”

“God, but you’re just so fucking good at-”

“Argh… he - has - nothing - to - do - with - this, you fucking slut.” The rapacious individual slams into your center with brutal force between each pointed word of his.

“I’m s-sorry,” you babble.

Haechan wraps his hands around your torso again; this time aggressively squeezing your breasts and tweaking your nipples for a few moments. “It’s okay, baby, I forgive you.”

He sinks himself into you, holding your body down and completely dominating you in every way for an immeasurable period. He snaps his fingers, making the handcuffs vanish. Sensing the pressure building within your body, he determines that this is the ideal time to pull out of your buzzing core.

You whine, feeling empty and rejected. “Why did you- AH!” Haechan hastily grabs your body, spinning you around and lifting you up by your thighs onto the crate. Your legs are spread similarly to your past self’s legs were but this crate is pressed to a wall, giving you a surface to lean on behind you.

“Sweetheart, I wanna see your face when I make you come,” he says in a spine chilling, lustful voice. Giving you no time for a response, the devil winds his arms under your thighs, prying your legs apart more and buries his cock inside you recklessly. “You like it when I choke you, right sweetheart?”

You only nod twice before his hand is wrapped around your throat again. He secures you to the wall behind you, almost like the thud against the shed you did to yourself earlier in the night but now there’s a different reason your lungs are strained for air. He squeezes the sides of your throat tightly, smirking when you hum in pleasure from not only being filled up repeatedly by Haechan but also being choked against the wall just as you craved. “You like that, you dirty whore? Like it when I squeeze and choke you real hard?”

“Yes,” you rasp, barely nodding your head.

Haechan heaves your legs higher over his shoulders, happy to indulge your desires and snickering at your wasted expression. “Ha, if only you could see your face now, it’s adorable.”

Pumping in and out of you, he beats your g spot with a hard rushing pressure that goes directly to your throbbing core. You’re a goner once his fingers begin to circle your clit aggressively, the tense sensation edging your body closer to swirling down the drain to climax.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he teases, knowing your answer from the choked pleasured moans that vibrate in your throat, your glowing facial expressions, the way your body twitches, and being able to read your thoughts. The devil just wanted to hear the tremor in your voice.

“Mhmm, y-yeah,” you whimper.

You feel the inner, pinching tingles trickle through your muscles, up your legs over his shoulders, to the tips of your fingers that are holding on for dear life to the edge of the crate for stability while Haechan vigorously stretches your walls, and up your spine to your head that is currently pressed against the storage closet wall. The intense aching that ties knots deep inside your core, winding up with an exhilaration that you’ve never experienced prior to this moment. You wish you could suppress it though; it’s a pipedream but you fantasize about holding out as long as he can.

“Sweetheart, just come for me already, I know you want to,” Haechan tempts you with glossy, twisted eyes, picking up the pace of his thrusts, and rapidly stimulating your clit. “Nothing would make me happier than to see you come on cock right now… Don’t you want to make me happy?”

You squeeze your eyes shut as the white hot flash shoots through your spasming body, engulfed in raging pressure that makes you feel like you’re levitating. Haechan accelerates his stimulation through your climax to elongate the euphoric high. Clenching around Haechan’s cock tightly coaxes a low moan from his pink parted lips, the satisfaction in his capabilities turning him on even more. He releases your throat and switches gears, focusing on his own climax next.

With tremendous stamina, he roughly fucks you for what feels like hours and you take everything he gives you graciously. A minute away from coming inside you, he groans, “Baby, you were so perfect to use for the night. And who knows… maybe, sometime in the future, we can do it all over again.”

Your mind is too far away to process his comment, drifting off into the hazy clouds and transcending reality out of pleasure. The feeling compels your senses to fade into thin air. Your eyes flutter closed, on the brink of letting life slip away entirely.

Haechan roughly spanks your thigh to grab your attention, snatching your consciousness away from crossing the line and giving up control of your body. “No blacking out on me, you got it? Baby, you’re gonna feel every single second of me filling up your pretty cunt with my cum right now.”

“I got it,” you sob, feeling Haechan’s cum unload inside you. When he pulls out you try to hold it in tightly but it dribbles to the floor regardless of your efforts. You slide off the crate and slump to the floor, breathing heavily and seeing stars swirling around the room. Your fingertips gingerly touch your puffy slit, triggering your body to twitch.

“So… did you have fun, yn?”

You nod lazily. Haechan spends a few wordless minutes with you on the ground before snapping his fingers again, making you both fully clothed like nothing happened. “I hope you like my cum inside you, yn, because you’re stuck with it for now.” He’s right, you can feel it leaking through your panties and into the material of your pants already. Helping you up, he pecks your lips with a cheeky smile. “I’m glad we both got what we wanted.”

“Which is?” you question skeptically.

“Am I wrong in thinking that you wanted to be fucked better than Jaemin ever could?”

You bite your lip, mentally acknowledging the truth in his assumption.

“Exactly,” he continues, avoiding eye contact with you. “But, sadly, it’s time for us to move on to the main main event.”

The earth-shattering affliction kicked off at the top of the hour. To his surprise, the demonic anthropologist feels relatively sorry for you. But no amount of emotions will alter his course. Haechan has a job to do. He is the devil, afterall. He snaps his finger to the moment Jeno busted in on you and Jaemin.

You were on your knees, giving Jaemin the best head of his life, while he was on the verge of shooting his cum down your throat. You and him jumped up, rushing to cover up and get decent in front of him. Jeno’s angry eyes burned holes in your now ex boyfriend, his eyes not leaving Jaemin’s face for a single second before his emotions boiled over.

It wasn’t even so much that you and Jaemin had gotten together. It was that Jaemin did it behind his back, trying to hide it. Jeno isn’t dumb. He noticed the way Jaemin had been looking at you for the longest time and was waiting for the day when Jaemin finally brought it up. He wasn’t trying to be your walking-talking chastity belt necessarily, he just wanted there to be transparency in your friend group, especially between the two people that meant the most to him. He didn’t mean for things to get so messy. All he wanted in the first place was honesty.

…..

“Argh! You were my fucking-” Jeno threw a punch at Jaemin, chipping his eye with a vengeful fist. “-best friend.” The ferocious blow knocked him into the box. Jaemin’s body slid to the floor, deep violet bubbling to the surface around his eye.

As the boat rode over a massive wave, the metal, industrial grade scissors you had set on the shelf next to the tool box clattered on the floor. You lept into action crouching by his side and snatching the potential weapon that had been a mere centimeter away from impaling Jaemin’s hand.

You whipped around to verbally berate Jeno’s violent retaliation, and it was at this very second that Jeno launched himself at the injured person he once called his best friend.

Instead of an exchange of angry words you planned, the sharp scissors sliced through your brother’s skin and into his gut. Jeno sank to his knees before crumbling to the ground. Within the drop of a hat, seething red splotches were staining the fabric over his stomach.

…..

You choke on a sob much like your brother did when he tore the long tool out from his body, yours being of a higher pitch and his with a greater degree of pain.

…..

Jaemin grabbed the shirt he was wearing before you threw it on the ground. The med student rolled Jeno onto his back, using it as a compress over the stab wound while you uselessly sat there in horror. Looking to you frantically, he jerked his head to the makeshift towel. “Get over here, y/n! Keep pressure right there and I’ll go get help and the first aid kit!”

You crawled over to takeover the roll Jaemin was better at. He was out the door and down the hall by the time it occurred to you that he should’ve stayed behind instead. Maybe he knew that you wouldn’t be able to stand on two feet and made the split second decision based on your obvious incapability. Either that or he had terrible judgement in trusting you to be helpful with essentially every task imaginable.

…..

There has never been a time in which you’ve seen so much blood.

“Wait a minute, y/n, you know that’s not true. You’re watching you watching this much blood because you stabbed your brother,” Haechan points out in a grim tone. “Stop lying to yourself… lying is a sin, remember?”

You wish that the damp shirt in your hands was soaked in red wine as if you had spilled the expensive bottle by Jeno’s head and made a simple mistake. But no amount of wishing could rectify your fatal mistake and in the eyes of the universe, the price of taking your own brother’s life must be paid in blood, whether it be deliberate or not.

…..

Sorrow and betrayal lingered in Jeno’s eyes. The light within them, flickering and fighting for life, glossed over into an empty darkness. You look on with the heaviest of hearts as he succumbed to the accidental injury of your doing. Taking Jeno into your arms was the exact beat the storm’s crescendo struck its cord, tipping your family’s vessel over into the ocean. The tool box fell off the shelf from above and hit your head, knocking you unconscious. You see a similar pool of blood flow from your head as well.

…..

“No…no… no!” you scream as the storage closet filled with water. You knew the boat capsized that night but it hits you that not remembering what led up to it wasn’t your mind coping with a traumatic event by burying it in your mind. And you wish you could forget the ultimate bloody truth permanently.

The phoney funeral etiquette you put on months ago felt wrong at the time and you couldn’t figure out why. You had talked it over with Jaemin a handful of times, desperately trying to convey that the feeling in your gut was worse than survivors' guilt he carried. Of course, Jaemin knew why you felt that way, but he swore on his own life that he wouldn’t reveal the truth to you. In his eyes, it was a blessing from above that you were hit with that toolbox but the downside of your ignorance was that you didn’t know the weight he carried on his shoulders. To inherit the role of protector only for you to break up with him hurt in a way that Jaemin couldn’t put into words.

The poor judgement skills of drunkenness are the sole reason he was hooking up with that girl tonight. Yet inebriated or not, he would still carry the weight because he pledged to take the secret to his grave, shielding you from the paralyzing emotions compartmentalized in your mind. He never dreamed that it would be so devastating though.

It’s a murderous, grim guilt that seeped into your skin while the boat sank speedily, the feeling of the murky ocean water polluted by Jeno’s blood, engulfing the cabin and turning your skin pruney. You watch Jaemin swim in at the very last second, saving your incapacitated body from drowning within the nick of time before you were dragged down with the sinking vessel just as your brother’s dead body was.

The Devil sternly taps his cane against the floated floor twice, at last returning you to the lonely backyard. Every detail, down to the dew drops clinging to their respective yellowed blades of grass on the lawn, is exactly how you left it. The few chairs that have yet to be transported down the cold cement are propped up against the shed. The muffled, thumping music of the halloween party can still be heard playing through the concrete and plaster walls. The neighborhood streets, corresponding sidewalks and front porches once bustling with rowdy trick or treaters much earlier in the evening are vacant.

He knows from past experience that you’re too stunned by the revelation to comprehend any conversation. The hungry guilt he sadly awakened within you had an appetite for self loathing and it would indeed be fed against your will.

“So… do you think you deserve to go to hell?” he questions after gifting you with 10 solid minutes to collect your scattered thoughts.

“t-this can’t be true… I would never-”

“Then what do you think happened, hm? Explain to me what went down that night and what happened after Jaemin fucked you?” he inserted softly.

In a perfect world, you would know how to answer the devil. You would know how to advocate for your past self, authoring the most scrupulous and incontestable defense the world has ever known. It would be persuasive enough to get you off the hook and wipe your afterlife record clean of the bloody crime you may or may not have committed months ago. But this isn’t a perfect world. And the only sound in your mind is a constant offkey note playing over the blaring white noise of uncertainty, almost like a lost locomotive whistle, driving your train of thought into the ground.

“y/n?” he repeats, waving a hand in front of your face.

“If I was the one who killed Jeno, I would-” You clear your throat and stand up as straight as you can manage, hoping to appear collected and stable. “-I wouldn’t deserve to go to hell. Even if I killed-”

Haechan slips his hand into yours and squeezes it. “There’s no ‘if’ here, y/n. Please, just accept it.”

You swallow thickly as the waterworks creep up on you. “I k-killed Jeno but I didn’t mean to. Never in a million years would I have wanted to hurt him. I loved him so fucking much and… honestly, I feel like a part of me died when he died.”

Haechan’s neck rolls back, looking to the glittering stars much like you did before, deep in thought about your fate. “Is that good enough? Am I still going to hell?”

His captivating eyes hold yours hostage. “I don’t know what to tell you, y/n. It wouldn’t be fair to take into consideration what we did together. And after everything I’ve seen tonight about what really happened in your life, well… you gave into lust with Jaemin and you killed Jeno.” Haechan caresses your cheek. You tuck your lips together, pinching your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to put a cap on the never ending supply of devastated tears streaming down your face. “I’m sorry for all this. I truly believe you when you say you never wanted to hurt your brother…” The devil pauses, gently wiping away a few of your tears with his thumb. “... but it doesn’t matter.”

“Why? Why doesn’t it matter?” you ask. Your weak voice cracks in between the heartbroken words that spill from your mouth.

“Sweetheart, blood is thicker than water, and actions speak louder than words… and what you did was loud enough to call me here.” Haechan lets out a heavy, sympathetic sigh as the shadow of his own guilt is threaded throughout his tone. “And that’s the reason you drowned with your brother that night.”

Within the blink of an eye, Haechan is gone, disappearing into the dark night with which he came from. You look down at your hands and scream, seeing your pruney skin covered in blood. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to rationalize this situation.

If this was all a dream you would have woken up by now, right? So you’re not dreaming. And if this was hell, why would you be back at the party? Exactly, so you’re not in hell. Hell wouldn’t be a halloween party, obviously.

The blood is an allusion to torment you, just like the cum seeping from your panties and dripping down the inside of your thighs is imaginary too. It's all an allusion.

And Haechan must have said you drowned to mess with your head. Just a simple little prank from him. That was the punishment you got and nothing more. You wipe off whatever wet liquid might be on your hands on your cape, still keeping your eyes closed just in case your hands were red with guilt that you weren't ready to acknowledge just yet.

It’s fine. It’s perfectly fine. It’s more than perfectly fine. Nothing in the history of anything, even in a perfect world, has ever been more fine.

Maybe if you keep telling yourself that, someday you’ll believe it. Because serenity is a delicacy you can’t afford if you owe your life to the Devil.

That is, if you’re even alive anymore…

taglist: @sunshinedhyuck, @fishjellyyt, @injunsweetheart, @sunshinedhyuck, @fishjellyyt, @ningningsworlds, @aedreamzy, @daegalfangirl, @keemburley, @nominsgirl, @bockhyun, @daegalfangirl, @xuzixushi

(highly recommend The Haunting of Hill House btw!! both the netflix show and the novel!)

okay time to address the elephant in the room: my collab slot was for jaemin but somehow, in the middle of drafting up the plot, haechan got involved bc i didn’t want jaemin to be the devil ?? idk idk. the only explanation i have for you is that i have a severe case of sunfloweritus…

thank you for reading !! and i really hope you didn’t see the twist ending!

➾my masterlist

You thought you had more time. You should have had more time. 

About an hour into your new Introduction to Astronomy lecture, your waning attention span is fully disrupted by a suspicious wetness you feel between your thighs. You uncross your legs and casually glance down, heart dropping when you discover a small pool of glossy slick in the middle of your lecture hall seat, heralding the start of your heat.

it’s official: life fucking hates you. 

Rationally, you’re aware of the fact that you need to formulate a plan but as you shift in your seat, your train of thought is derailed by the sensation sparked between your legs. You clench your jaw and grind your teeth together, forbidding your mouth from vocalizing the shred of gratification you get from squirming in your seat. 

Of all the damn days to pair a bodysuit and a pleated mini skirt, this day has got to be the absolute worst. But of course it had to be warm enough today that you felt comfortable showing more skin. In your mind, it made sense to seize the favorable weather before the last remnants of Summer disappeared into a chilly Autumn, but now you’d rather be bundled in three thick layers and sweating buckets than vulnerable in your current attire.

While you arch your back and discreetly grind against the messy chair, the bodysuit stretches, progressively sliding up your abdomen, and bunching at your waist. The damp material tugs on your hood, a second later, your clit is subjected to rough stimulation directly. Intense tingles ripple through your core from the sensitive spot. Even with your lips pressed together, you can’t suppress the tiny high-pitched squeak in your throat.

Renjun angles his laptop towards you, quickly typing out are you okay? 

You freeze your body. Giving him a terse nod, you rid yourself of the unwanted attention and resume the lewd activity. It takes a mere 30 seconds for your folds to eat up the narrow strips of material that once covered your intimate parts, giving your slick pussy a wedgie. It’s uncomfortably restrictive, and yet, simultaneously a massive turn on. 

You should be more concerned but the torturous pressure feels too good to stop, restraint briefly suspended again in a pleasured daze, chasing the desired pulsating sensation. Your eyes pop out of your head hearing the small metal snap of your bodysuit’s crotch region pop open, exposing your panties underneath and instantly bringing you back to reality. 

Jisung ducks his head near your ear. “Hey, what’s that-?”

“What’s what?” you immediately cut him off, worried he heard the same noise.

He hums, pursing his lips. “What’s that smell?”

“uh, well…” 

You gulp, so mortified that it’s impossible to meet his eyes, embarrassment warming your cheeks, your heat cranking up the bubbling sensation within you.

This shouldn’t be happening. You’ve documented your heat cycle since the day you started taking suppressants years ago. If you left it up to nature, your heat would be a seasonal affair. Now, thanks to the convenience of modern-day medicine, taking one daily pill significantly lowers your heat cycle frequency to biannually.

It’s always been consistent enough that you could pinpoint the exact 48 hour period in which it would start. In fact, a series of predetermined dates are highlighted on your desk calendar for when you’re supposed to be in heat: over four months from now.

Your scent is detectable in two ways: if someone were to press their nose directly to your scent gland, or the significantly more potent way, through the profuse slick secretion omegas produce in heat. 

And given the fact that you’re practically sitting in a puddle of slick at the moment, panic is knocking at your front door with fever. Any alpha in a ten foot radius will soon smell the arousing nectar leaking out of you. 

Fortunately, you’re in the last row of a half empty lecture hall. Rather than a dozen alphas, it’s a handful of the closest ones that’ll be raising their noses to get a whiff of the fragrant aroma floating through the air, two of those alphas being your friends.

Jisung sniffs around curiously, even going so far as to lean forward, over where Jeno is sitting directly in front of you.

“Hmm, it’s, like, sweet and fruity. Do you smell it? Like raspberries…or maybe strawberries?”

Renjun stops typing notes on his laptop. “I don’t smell anything.”

Figures; betas like Renjun don’t detect omega scents until they are at the absolute peak of their heat, and even then it wouldn’t be very strong. 

“Also, for your information, raspberries and strawberries aren’t berries.”

“Wha- Really!?” 

“Yeah. Most fruits that end in ‘berry’ aren’t actually berries, botanically speaking.”

“Um, Renjun?” you try to grab his attention in a hushed voice, failing as a result of Jisung talking over you at the same instant.

Besides your first heat, you’ve always been well prepared. You take preventative measures against potential alphas who may smell you and want to take advantage of a heat-drunk omega. 

Your typical protocol entails remaining holed up in your dark room. The mini fridge by your desk is fully stocked with four days worth of food and beverages, the air conditioner is on full blast, curtains and blinds drawn closed. Your door is secured shut with three bolted locks too.

For your past few heats, Mark has locked himself up with you as well. Being an omega, it was of vital importance to find a trustworthy alpha that wouldn’t savagely take advantage of your heat-induced instinctual nature to follow an alpha’s orders. The whole reason you submit to Mark is because you know he would never take things too far. For your past two heats, Mark was knotting you until his exhaustion proved overwhelming, and he physically couldn’t use his big dick any longer. Basically, your alpha can’t go far enough, for some indiscernible reason.

Based on the increasing amount of slick and the new ache in your core, you’d estimate you have less than an hour before your heat will seriously start affecting your senses. There’s a reason you keep track of your heat cycle, and it’s to avoid horrendous situations like this one. 

You’re struck with uncertainty and a minor sense of helplessness, facing your worst nightmare alone. At the moment, you don’t have Mark by your side, protecting you from other predatory alphas, ensuring you eat and drink something when you’re too out of it to do so yourself; and most importantly, pleasuring you to take away the pain that comes with your extreme heat cramps. 

You need Mark. 

Mouth beginning to water, deep in your filthy thoughts, you don’t register the conversation around you. You imagine him taking care of you in this very lecture hall, bent over the sturdy wooden podium at the front of the class.

You’re preoccupied and perplexed, a fraction of you developing a peculiarly strong craving for a knot – any knot. Considering how fast your heat crept up on you in the first place, you have every reason to believe this craving will continue to intensify. You feel ashamed to admit it, but at this rate, you might just find yourself allowing any alpha to knot you. 

Jisungs face scrunches up in disbelief, hearing another botanical fun fact. “No way. You’re trying to tell me bananas are berries? I don’t believe you.”

Jeno snorts, barely peering over his shoulder to throw his two cents into the hushed conversation. “Why are you arguing with Renjun? When was the last time you ate a fruit?”

“I don’t know. When was the last time you didn’t fall asleep at 6 am?” Jisung grumbles, not-so-quietly as he intended. 

If they weren’t in a classroom setting, Jisung would’ve hidden behind Renjun or grabbed something to shield himself from the other alpha’s wrath. Jeno fully twists his torso around, dawning a toothy grin that spells trouble for the youngest in the near future. He opens his mouth to speak but ultimately falls silent.

The lecture hall’s desks are the type that flip down to hover over half of your lap. With only your right thigh covered, Jeno’s eyes flick down to where you've been looking. 

He zeros in on the source of the fruity scent Jisung was referencing. He drops his smile, licking his lips, dark pupils flashing candy apple red. The other two shift their attention to your lap in quick succession.

Initially, Jisung doesn’t see what they do from his position. His curiosity then leads the naive boy to bend his upper body down and inch forward. Finally granted a vantage point to peer between your legs, his face turns a shade that matches the berries he spoke of a minute ago.  

“Uh, y/n? Are you, um, in-” Jisung stutters, his bright eyes locked between your parted thighs. 

Both alphas stare, mystified by the sight of your drenched panties, the thin white material now see-through and doing nothing to stop you from making a mess in the center of the lecture hall chair. Lifting your head, you see Jeno’s pupils fully dilated, swirling with lust, and you imagine Jisung isn’t too far off, mirroring the older alpha. 

You belatedly try to snap your thighs together but Jisung, of all people, latches onto your inner knee and keeps most of your seeping slit on display for them. His fingers digs into your soft skin in an uncharacteristically possessive manner, while Jeno quietly growls. 

They’re increasingly aroused hearing a spurt of your slick gush from your core, discovering you to be turned on by your own humiliation. You softly whine, embarrassed beyond all possible belief. 

“What happened to decorum, huh?” the beta scolds the younger alphas. 

Jisung snaps out of it and rips his hand away so fast it hits his desk. “Ow!”

“Acting like you just presented and never smelled slick before? Ugh. Get a fucking grip, you guys.” 

Renjun sets his phone on his desk, angling it towards you to show his screen and you tune out the apology from the frazzled boy on your right. “Hey, so I texted Mark. The good news is he’s on his way.” 

You exhale in relief. “Okay. Wait, what’s the bad news?”

Renjun winces, reluctant to kill your newly kindled hope. “Well…he said it’ll probably take him a half hour to get here.”

“A half hour?” 

You snap your tongue, loathing today’s dreaded turn of events. You squeeze your eyes shut to fight off the tears threatening to stain your burning cheeks.

“Oh, hold on.” Renjun scans the new message from your boyfriend, rereading it in his head, triple checking the text before delivering the additional details. “He said he’s…sending someone to get you? And they’ll be here in a dozen minutes or so.”

You furrow your brow, confused. “Who?” 

“Dunno, he didn't say.” Renjun shoots him another text, asking for the identity of this mystery person he’s referring to. 

You stare at his phone intently, beads of sweat forming on the back of your neck and haloing your hairline. Renjun taps the dim screen to keep it from turning off.

As you impatiently wait for an answer, your old nervous habit of picking and biting your nails resurfaces. You peel part of your nail off and fixate on the minor self-inflicted sting for the sake of a distraction from your intimate regions pulsating with arousal, not to mention the graphic, x-rated imagery about how easily you’d bend over for alphas in your vicinity.

Renjun lifts the back of his hand to your feverish forehead, the worry on his face deepening into his soft features. “Don’t take this the wrong way, y/n, but why did you come to class if you were in pre-heat?”

“When I left my apartment this morning, I didn’t fucking feel like I was in pre-heat,” you hiss through clenched teeth. 

You ring your head low and swallow your bad temperament as the harsh tone reaches your ears. You cringe, barely recognizing your own voice.

“I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated because I don’t know what’s going on. I shouldn’t take it out on you though.”

“No, it’s fine, I get it. You’re stressed out.” Renjun gives you a sympathetic look, equally as confused by your body as you are. “Well this explains why you wore that today.”

“What do you mean?”

Renjun clicks on the weather app to show you the temperature outside. “Because it’s cold today. But if you were really warm, the temperature outside wouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Ugh, oh my god. You’re right,” you reply, mentally slapping your forehead for not actually checking the forecast for today. Simply put, you believed you knew better, based on how warm your room felt when you got out of bed this morning.

You hold your abdomen and apply minimal pressure there, preparing for the onset of pain when your cramps start up, just like the bad habit responsible for the new drop of blood swelling at the tip of your finger. 

Jisung is quick to dig into his messy backpack and procure a quick fix for any minor injuries. It’s clear that he’s trying to be as helpful as possible, still feeling terribly guilty for holding your thighs open and preventing you from hiding what was visible to him and Jeno through your thin panties. 

You dab the blood with the folded tissue he hands you, and then wrap the blue and green, dinosaur themed band-aid around your finger. “Thank you,” you whisper to Jisung sincerely, touching his arm to express gratitude. 

You don’t blame the guilt-ridden alpha too much. After watching your pussy leak slick through the soaked white material, it was only in his nature to want to breed an omega on the verge of going into heat. The baby alpha Jisung you know and love wouldn’t do that.

Renjun lightly taps the back of your hand when you pick the finger next to the freshly bandaged one. He clasps your hands together, preventing you from doing more damage to that hand, at least. 

You frown at your hypocritical friend who himself hasn’t managed to kick the same bad habit as you. Nonetheless, you appreciate his comforting action. 

“You know, I keep thinking why me? What have I done to deserve this?” You gesture at your thighs with your free hand. “And how am I supposed to last another however many minutes?”

Renjun pauses and sighs. “On second thought, maybe you should go now. It’s way stuffier inside, so it might be a good idea to go splash some water on your face in the bathroom first before whoever Mark sent gets here.”

You hesitate for a second. You're troubled by not only the mess you've made in your seat, but the continual trickle of slick, potentially painting a colorful bullseye on your wet cunt. 

Alphas with practiced, keen olfactory systems can track a scent from a mile away, the express purpose to savagely use the needy omega they find simply because your kind is at its most vulnerable in heat. 

You always knew that omegas drew the short stick in life, but it was only after you had observed Mark’s rut in person that you officially became envious of alphas. An alpha’s number one priority during rut, above food and shelter and anything in between, is to breed omegas. 

They’ll brutally fuck a slick hole for multiple days, repeatedly knotting them until their bun-hungry alpha brain is sure that the omega will deliver them happy, healthy pups. 

Nearly every omega and most alphas take suppressants, making the chances of knocking up an omega less than 0.001% if both partners are medicated. Though, regardless of their incredibly slim chances of conceiving, that does not dissuade a stubborn alpha in rut from attempting to produce offspring. 

During Mark’s last rut, despite the primal need to dominate and fuck your brains out, oddly enough, his stamina weirdly didn’t match yours. 

“Whoever Mark’s sending is supposed to get here any minute, so there’s no real harm in leaving a minute earlier. No one would try anything with you if you’re in a public setting like school,” Renjun assures you and gives your hand one last squeeze. 

“Y/n?” Jisung works up the courage to gently tap your arm like you did his, giving you what remains of the travel size tissue packet that’s been in his backpack for nearly three years. “Don’t worry about the chair. We’ll wipe it off when you leave.”

Jeno guiltily turns around again and apologizes like the younger alpha. He then makes a generous offer to save you the trouble of waiting a second longer to leave for good. 

“I can drive you home now, if you want, y/n. And, you know, if you feel comfortable enough being alone with another alpha…no pressure. It’s just the least I can do.”

“Um, thank you. I think, uh…” 

Fifteen minutes ago, when you had no plan whatsoever and hadn’t been in contact with Mark, you would’ve taken him up on the offer, but Renjun is right. You know that a part of you is really craving a knot. However, you believe you’re lucid enough to handle going to the bathroom by yourself. 

You don’t see yourself jumping at the first opportunity to sit on a throbbing alpha cock, bouncing up and down, pathetically begging them to fill you up with an excessive amount of cum, like you did before. Plus, you don’t want to attract even more unwanted attention if two of you were to stand up and walk out in the middle of the lecture. 

“I think I’m good, Jeno. It’s just around the corner. I’ll be fine.” 

You pick up your bag, tying the varsity jacket that Jeno generously handed to you around your waist. You head for the door, walking at a reasonable speed to not attract more attention than your scent likely has. 

Jeno’s jacket conceals most of the slick running down your inner thighs, and you make a mental note to somehow make it up to him later.

You have almost reached the bathroom when, out of nowhere, you’re ambushed by an alpha, pressed face first against the brick wall of the science building. 

Whoever it is had the sense to slip his hand in front of your heated forehead to break the blow against the wall and not crack your skull open on impact. Obviously, alphas don’t want a dead omega. 

You can’t breed something that’s not breathing.

That’s basic alpha 101.

Your heart rattles in your ribcage, racing a million miles per hour. You wish you were allotted enough time to wipe up your slick before being attacked. 

If only you had accepted Jeno’s offer to be safely escorted, then you wouldn’t be pinned to a wall, hands held behind your back by an alpha presumably relying purely on an animalistic desire.

To make matters worse, being dominated so aggressively triggers a surge of arousal from within your inner omega, the yearning for sexual fulfillment intensifying at a rate higher than in your lecture. 

On instinct, tremendously touch starved, you grind your hips back, pressing your ass against the half-hard cock hidden in the alpha’s pants. 

He leans closer to your ear, pulling the cherry lollipop out of his mouth to whisper in a deep, gravelly voice, “Did somebody miss me?” 

You whimper, timidly, and he chuckles. 

Something possesses you to tilt your head to the side, submissive and craving a knot so damn badly that you’re willing to bare your vulnerable neck for the alpha. 

He hesitates, before nosing at your scent gland, shakily exhaling through his mouth. Presented with such an alluring opportunity, the alpha almost loses his cool, tempted to accept your invitation and take advantage of your omega’s baseline reflex to submit. 

Practicing a degree of restraint that very, very few alphas in his unique position possess, he instead places a single soft kiss to the spot he knows is reserved for Mark’s teeth.

Mark…

You break out of your innate trance as lips that don’t belong to your alpha are still pressed to your neck, the gravity kicking in about what it means to allow a stranger to bite and claim you. 

You can’t imagine what your life would be like as a double claimed omega, shared by two alphas, belonging to both Mark and the mysterious, possessive person behind you. 

You catch him off guard by ripping away. You whip around, snapping your tongue when you finally discover the identity of your attacker. 

“Argh, what the fuck, Haechan?”

You lean back against the solid wall, holding a hand over your chest as if your heart is on the brink of bursting through the slats of your ribs. 

“Did you have to give me a heart attack? What happened to saying hello, hm?”

He snickers, a melodious, infectious laugh that makes you want to smile as well. This time, with tremendous effort, you hold your ground. 

“What’s the fun in that, sweetheart?” he says, sticking the candy back in his mouth.

You wish you could chase away the butterflies in your stomach that are consistently conjured up when his designated pet name for you rolls off his silver tongue. You’ve seen Haechan flirt with countless girls, yet he’s always reserved “sweetheart” and “sweetie” for his favorite omega. 

You can’t describe why hearing his pet names excites you, inappropriately so. Perhaps, you like feeling special to him in some way, his sugar-coated sweet tooth reserved for you and you only.

Mark knows all of this.

He would have to be both blind and deaf to not see Haechan’s effect on your body and pick up on the sound of your heart racing. His charming best friend is frustratingly swoon worthy, but Mark had never minded it much. A case can be made that Mark is the jealous type. It’s for this very reason you find it so curious that he allows Haechan to get away with openly flirting with his omega.

“Why are you even-?” 

You freeze as he wipes a tear from your cheek, trailing the back of his fingers along the side of your face and down your neck. He wraps his hand behind your neck with his thumb pressing into where your pulse is fluttering rapidly, tucking the lollipop into the side of his cheek to speak.

“Shh, take deep breaths for me, baby. In…out…in…out.” 

The alpha’s instruction marginally calms your nerves, your omega instincts compelling you to follow without question. You are obedient and malleable, most especially in heat, for Haechan and your own alpha, of course.

“Good girl.” His praise has you biting your lip, whining softly. “Renjun probably told you but Mark’s on his way. He sent me to take care of you first.”

“Oh,” you reply, dumbly. 

You should have suspected that Mark would send him to pick you up. It’s obvious in retrospect. He trusts Haechan with his life; by extension, he would have total faith in his best friend to handle you too.

“Yeah, oh,” he mimics with an annoyingly charming curl of his heart shaped lips. 

Haechan basically gets off on annoying people, although his form of teasing you differs from others. Plus, you never fail to give him the reaction he’s searching for, playfully rolling your eyes, quietly snapping your tongue, or throwing some weak comeback in return. 

“Are you disappointed to see me, y/n? I know you're Mark’s princess but you’ll just have to settle for me this time.”

“Wow, how noble of you. My hero,” you reply, sarcastically. “Can we go now?”

“By all means, lead the way, sweetheart.”

Right on queue, you roll your eyes, just like he knew you would. You take a few steps in the direction he gestures to before the first heat cramp punctures your core. Luckily, Haechan catches your body as your knees buckle, doubling over in pain. 

Haechan clears his throat. “Y/n, you should know that Mark didn’t just send me here to pick you up,” he says cryptically, unpocketing his phone. 

He proceeds to play a voicemail Mark left him. You listen with pursed lips, furrowing your brow as you take in your alpha’s words. 

You try to concentrate on the message, partially distracted by Haechan’s scent swirling around you, quickly permeating your skin and thoughts. 

“Hyuck, you’re the only alpha I completely trust to take care of y/n like that…and by that, you know what I mean. And don’t be surprised if she, like, starts to beg for it. She can be realllly needy, trust me.”

There’s a spike in Haechan’s scent, reminded of his personal mission to hear you beg. 

Despite not having kissed him, you can taste him on your lips. His all-encompassing spicy musk intensifies, melting into a subtle syrupy vanilla that clings to your tongue and stirs up a hunger for forbidden fruit. The cherry candy is no match to his natural scent.

“Oh! One more thing. y/n likes it a bit, um, rough when she’s in heat…so just keep that in mind. I’ll be there as soon as possible, dude. 40 minutes tops. Alright, see you then.”

Haechan looks at you, searching for a reaction, but instead, he sees your face contort painfully again. 

“Sweetie, look at me.” 

You turn your head, now within proximity to count all the pretty moles on his sun-kissed face, like sunflower seeds you’re tempted to taste and swallow by the handful until you’re physically ill. 

“Do you want…” 

You straighten your back again, a chill running up your spine as Haechan slowly reaches under your skirt. He drags his hand up the inside of your thigh. The tips of his fingers draw through the many lines of slick dripping down your legs.

“…my help?” he finishes in a tone deeper than you knew he could produce. 

Your cheeks and ears burn with embarrassment, feeling another mini rush of wetness soak the utterly useless material covering your throbbing core. There’s no denying that you’re incredibly aroused by Haechan. He knows you know he can smell the gush of new slick you involuntarily released.

A strong sexual desire pumps through your veins, driving you up the walls. You’ve always been curious about what it would be like to have the alpha ruin you and use your body like a toy, but you’re not certain how much of that can be attributed to being on the verge of heat. For better or for worse, you decide that that’s a problem for future you to determine, and present you to toss out the window. 

Tasting a mere crumb of Haechan’s touch wasn’t enough – you had to swallow him whole, and the only way you could do that is by giving him the pleasure of devouring you first. 

“y-yes, please.” 

Your answer is so faint that if he were any farther away, he wouldn’t have heard it. 

Haechan suppresses a smug smile, pleasantly surprised to get your first “please” this soon after catching up with you. 

“That’s what I thought, sweetheart.”

His skilled fingers touch where you want him most, grazing over your clothed pussy. Anticipating some kind of pleasured noise, he holds your body close and pops the lollipop inside your mouth. 

He scans your surroundings for a place nearby with any additional smidge of privacy. Locating a possible secluded destination, he steers your weak body in the direction of his choice. Haechan snakes a hand up the front of your skirt again, pressing his thick cock against your ass as you stumble forward. 

Imagining how dirty you must look turns you on, the debauchery of grinding on someone in broad daylight while they have your skirt flipped up to rub over your wet panties has your vision blurring momentarily. Modesty is nothing but a vague concept in the far off distance, seconds away from disappearing over the horizon. 

The next thing you know, your body is pressed against a cool hard surface, bleary eyed and craving the kind of high only a mind blowing orgasm can earn. 

You vaguely recognize you’re behind the science building you came out of before Haechan ambushed you, escaping the bright rays of burning sun that were beating down on you by slinking into the secluded shadows with the golden, silky voiced alpha.

Your skirt rides up as he shoves a knee between your legs. He gets a firm grip on your hips as you grind down against his thigh, soaking the material of his skinny jeans, creating a wet spot in the denim with your slick.

“Wow, would you look at that? Baby made a mess all over me already. I bet you wanted that, huh? Rubbing your slick on me so people know you’re fucking two alphas?”

You remove the lollipop to refute his provocative claim. “I-I’m not fucking two alphas.”

“Ha, maybe…not yet, anyways. But you want to. Isn’t that right, y/n?”

Your mouth goes dry, tongue rough, throat scratchy like sandpaper. You part your lips to argue with him but nothing comes out. Instead, you insert the lollipop again, sucking on the shrinking round candy, a poor attempt at covering up your original intention.

“Exactly…now, let’s see what we’ve got here.”

Haechan places your clammy hands on either side of his shoulders to ensure you won’t lose your balance, then he lowers himself to crouch in front of you.

“Hold.” He lifts up your skirt, giving you the bottom hem so he can get down to business.

Haechan’s fingers dig between your clothed folds, feeling your slick leak onto his hand. The thin material pushes into your entrance in an unsatisfying way and you whine. 

He tsks his tongue three times, shaking his head. “Just as I suspected.” 

You don’t need a reminder of how wet you are, and yet Haechan still brings his hand up for you to see the wet webbing clinging to the tips of his spread fingers anyways. A small embarrassed noise escapes your mouth. 

“Aw, sweetheart,” he coos, using his thumb to toy with your clit, “you look so adorable when you’re embarrassed. All rosy-cheeked and messy.”

Haechan slides your panties down your legs and you cooperate by stepping out of them, hands still anchored to his shoulders. He brings them to his face and licks off a great majority of the wetness that seeped out of you, peering into your soul as he does so. Your lips form a slight pout, missing his touch.

“Ha, Mark was right. You are a needy omega,” he teases and pockets your panties like a trophy he’ll proudly keep forever. 

“What would Mark say if he saw his precious omega barring her neck for a total stranger?” 

You softly moan a bit louder as he curls his fingers just right. Your knees wobble, struggling to stay upright. 

The image of the alpha ravaging your body while Mark watches the act unfold, makes it difficult to focus on your surroundings, distracting you from the minor degree of shame in your chest. 

You couldn’t care less about your indecent exposure at the moment either – you feel too good to care about anything. 

“H-haechan…I want you…want you so fucking bad,” you breathe out, words slightly slurred with the round candy in your mouth. 

Haechan’s cock twitches, picturing you in tears, your walls struggling to accommodate him. However, he is aware that behind a school building isn’t the most ideal place to take an omega in heat, especially considering the potency of your heavenly scent, steadily increasing. 

Since Mark isn’t here yet, the least he could do is take you inside the building.

Your slick seeps into the frontside of Haechan’s clothes, clinging to his upper body for dear life as he carries you into an empty classroom. He sets you down on the lab table and observes the damage to his clothes.

“i-i’m sorry about that.” You lean back, peering down at your lap, nervously.

“Oh, baby…c’mere.”

Haechan cups over your knees and tilts forward to kiss your neck, sucking a dark hickey right next to your mating mark from his best friend. 

“I like collecting these little spots from you.” He pries your thighs apart and draws closer to your bare pussy.

“It’s cute that your body can’t help but mark me somehow.” 

He gets on his knees, darts his tongue out to swirl around your clit. His fingers prod your slick core and slide inside you, stroking your sensitive spot skillfully. The breathy noises he’s rewarded with are ones he’ll remember forever. 

It’s astonishing how quickly Haechan figures you out. 

He’s already in tune with your body, keenly aware of what makes you tick, knowing how to make you quiver and arch your back beautifully. 

Not before long, Haechan has you shaking uncontrollably, squeezing your eyes shut, your short stuttered breathing uneven and shallow as your orgasm peaks, and you topple into an abyss of intense pleasure. The lollipop falls out of your open mouth, rolling off the black table.

You might as well be outside, stargazing in the dead of night based on how many constellations and galaxies twinkle and swirl behind your fluttering eyelids. 

Haechan doesn’t let up on his efforts to overload your system with a tingly static sensation. Sobbing pathetically, you try to bat him away with what little strength you have, overstimulated and overcome with the sizzling heat frying your nerve endings. 

He huffs and retracts his hands, wiping his mouth and the mess of dripping juices on your inner thigh. 

“Okay, fine. I won’t touch you anymore!” he tosses his hands up in the air, melodramatic as ever.

“Finally,” you murmur, granted relief to catch your breath for the first time. 

You’re heavily panting, linking your fingers together and resting your hands atop your head to allow better airflow into your oxygen deprived lungs. He steps back and studies you like a unique specimen for medical observation. 

A few quiet moments pass before the dull cramps creep up inside you, not yet terribly painful but aching in a way that guarantees incoming sharp pains. You whimper for stimulation again, sending puppy dog eyes at Haechan. 

“More…please.”

The alpha’s face is painted with mischief, taunting you by reaching for your body then abruptly stepping back to watch you sniffle, and rock back and forth.

Upon noticing your eyes starting to well up with tears, he ultimately gives in. Haechan curls two and then three fingers inside you, opening you up for his throbbing cock. 

As much as he’d love to see you cry, he’s under strict instruction to satisfy and take care of you. He can’t threaten to not relieve the effects of your heat and tease you to the point of genuine distress.

“Aww, don’t cry, baby. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” 

You let out a breathy moan and make grabby motions to the tent in his pants. 

“Hm, does the cry baby want a knot?” You bite your bottom lip, nodding. “Yeah? Can you use your words? Or is there nothing going on up there in that pretty little head of yours?” 

He lightly taps your forehead twice, then slides that hand up to tangle in your hair.

You smile, shy and small,  and, dare he say, adorable. “You- you think I’m pretty?”

One side of the alpha’s mouth curls up, amused that “pretty” was the only word that you clung onto. He rolls his eyes, teasingly. 

“Of course you’re pretty, y/n.” Haechan removes his hand from your hair to take out his thick cock. “And only the prettiest of girls get this.”

With a newly unveiled salivating incentive, you immediately pull yourself together, spine straight as an arrow. 

You stare at his shiny, precum-glossy cock with heart eyes, licking your lips as he gives himself a few jerks and produces more pearly droplets from his slit. He pushes you back against the lab table when you try to get to your feet for a taste.

“You can choke on my cock later, princess. I thought you wanted a knot? Or did you change your mind?”

“No! I-I do want it,” you frantically reply.

“You sure?”

“Yes, I really want it, Haechan, really badly.” He raises an eyebrow, expecting more. “Please…please, knot me. I wanna be filled with your cum. I’m begging you…breed me, Alpha.”

Breed me, Alpha rings in Haechan’s ears like wedding bells signifying the everlasting bond of a committed partnership. Hearing your sweet voice desperately begging for his seed, using the dominant title you only ever use with Mark, your real alpha, gets Haechan rock hard. 

He savors every second he gets to be your alpha. 

Satisfied with your eloquently worded, pitiful plea, he lines himself up. His shiny cockhead glides through your folds before breaching your dripping entrance. 

“That’s what I thought, sweetheart,” the alpha whispers against your scent gland, his mouth sucking it softly.

 You gasp as he drives his hips forward, forcefully pushing against your tiny hole until you’ve accepted his blunt tip, and sucked his fat cock inside. 

Mark can smell you the second he drives on campus. He rolls his window down to take another alluring whiff, his right hand just barely gripping the bottom of the steering wheel while his left palms the bulge in his snug jeans, tenting obscenely. 

Mind preoccupied, his tunnel vision blinds him from focusing on a single thing besides seeking you out and filling you with loads of cum as soon as possible. He doesn’t recall pulling into the parking lot, getting out of his car, or locking it. All he knows is that, within the blink of an eye, he’s rushed across the campus, his feet landing just outside one of the science labs housed in the same building as your astronomy lecture.

Yanking the door wide open, his wild eyes dart to where his best friend’s knot is locked inside his omega, rubbing your clit so aggressively after your third orgasm that you’re reduced to a twitching mess. 

You don’t immediately recognize Mark’s presence, too lost in the intense buzzing sensation to even register that the alpha barged into the room.

Mark slams the door behind him and purposely leaves the door unlocked like Haechan did. There’s a certain reckless thrill that comes with the possibility of getting caught in a compromising position.

In contrast to the way he raced here, driving haphazardly and disobeying traffic laws, Mark slowly crosses the lab room towards your splayed body in a few, brisk strides. He removes his hard cock from his jeans with a lazy smile, stroking himself and licking his lips as you cry out.

Haechan flicks his chin up at Mark, greeting him happily. He makes a show out of pressing a slick-coated finger against your lips to silence you. 

“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta keep it down. You don’t want everyone next door to hear, right? They’d probably say ‘we should go check on whoever’s crying!’ Only to come in here and find their pretty classmate is a dumb little slut…with a cunt full of cum.” 

You whine, leading him to push two of his dirty fingers into your mouth to shut you up. His smirks as you mindlessly suck on them like a binkie, shutting your eyes and humming pleasantly. 

“She’s so pretty when she cries.”

“I know right?” 

Mark makes a growling noise in the back of his throat as he rubs his hand over where he can see the faint outline of Haechan’s thick knot buried inside you, making your abdomen bulge. Both you and Haechan shutter, feeling a tingly sensation from the pressure your boyfriend applies. 

“So, how’s she been?”

“Well, she-”

“Mar?” you weakly croak around Haechan’s fingers and he removes them.

“I’m here, y/n, I’m right here.” Mark wipes a lone tear of yours away and caresses your warm cheek. “How are you feeling, baby?” 

“I’m…hot.”

“No objection there,” Haechan jokes.

“Why did you send Haechan?” you continue like you didn’t hear the alpha currently plugging you up with cum.

“Oh, y/n. You remember how you were during your last heat.” Mark stops stroking his cock and takes out a tissue to dab away the sheen of sweat on your feverish forehead. 

“Actually, you were probably too far gone, huh?” 

You blink up at him, tilting your head into his hand when he tries to wipe your cheek. If you’re being honest with yourself, you only recall bits and pieces, and none of those memories are exceptionally vivid. 

“I didn’t know it was possible. Like, I looked it up and on average, omegas need to be knotted 5x before their heat breaks. But, y/n, seriously, I lost track of how many times I knotted you and it’s never enough. I couldn’t take care of you throughout all of your heat and it killed me to see you like that and not be able to help you more. You need more than I can give you, princess.” 

He offers you a small genuine smile, his hand trailing down to palm at your exposed breast. Mark gently rolls your nipple between his fingers, hearing you quietly purr. “So Haechan was nice enough to agree to help me help you.”

“But Mark-” 

“It’s for your own good, y/n,” Mark calmly tells you. “And didn’t Haechan make you feel nice?”

“Um, well, I-” 

You gulp, ruminating on how you want to answer, whether you should tell him that another alpha made you feel as amazing as Mark does.  

“Wanna tell me what it’s like to have his knot locked inside that tight little pussy of yours? I know you love being full of my cum. What about his cum? I bet you looove getting fucked full of his cum too, huh?”

“Y-yeah, I love being full of cum…your cum and-and Haechan’s cum.”

Mark smiles at your response and rewards you by pinching your perky nipple. “That’s what I like to hear, baby.”

You whine when Haechan wiggles his mostly deflated cock out of your tight core. “You really weren't lying when you said she gets super wet.”

“Hm, let me feel.” He hums, looking closer and dipping his fingers inside the dripping combination of your fluids. 

Mark widens his nostrils and takes in the aroma of Haechan’s cum mixed in with your juices, his eyes flashing blood red. 

It’s unfamiliar and vaguely off putting to smell his mate has been violated and fucked open by another alpha. Although, overall, the dominant sensation coursing through Mark is arousal, turned on by the thought of sharing your body. 

“Nah, man. It gets worse, you’ll see. Her heat hasn’t even peaked yet.”

Mark addresses Haechan like you aren’t even here. To be fair though, during your heat you’re not all here anyways. 

“W-worse?” you eke.

“By the end of her last heat, she had so much fucking cum in her, I don’t know where it was all going.”

 “Ha, we got ourselves a little cum dumpster here,” Haechan snickers, sliding his fingers inside your cum dribbling cunt again.

With such an overflowing amount of slick and cum, if someone told you that the obscene squelching that fills the room is a soundbite from some high quality pornography, you wouldn’t doubt it. You croon as he curls them up just right, taking a moment to stimulate your most sensitive spot skillfully. 

He retracts them sooner than you’d prefer and brings his fingers to your mouth. “Suck.” 

A fat droplet falls on your bottom lip. 

Mark rubs slow, comforting circles over your abdomen. “Go ahead, baby,” he encourages, leaning down to suckle on your neglected bud. 

Earning Mark’s blessing, you obediently suck your own berry wetness and Haechan’s cum off of the alpha’s fingers.

“God, what a filthy slut,” he says once you’ve fulfilled his wish. “She gives in so easily, she’d do anything to get another load of cum.” 

A weak sound of protest weasels up the back of your throat, disagreeing with the term he used to describe you. You expect Mark to disagree with his best friend’s crude statement, but he shockingly does the opposite.

“Tell me about it, dude. The whole time she’s always begging for a knot and more cum. I know a lot of omegas beg in the middle of their heat…” 

Mark pets your head gently for a second, then snakes his fingers into your hair, giving it a brief yank. 

If you weren’t on the precipice of your heat hitting full force, his sudden action would’ve caused you a decent amount of pain. But by now, your aching body welcomes any form of touch – the rougher the better. The demeaning terms trigger strobing excitement inside you.

“…but with y/n, it’s like where did my sweet omega go? Who’s this needy cumslut?” 

Your bottom lip quivers, internally conflicted by your budding arousal. Mark looks down at you with pity in his eyes.

“Aw, baby,” he coos, “don’t look at me like that. I’m not saying it to be mean, I’m just telling the truth. You don’t know what it’s like trying to take care of you.”

You whine softly, your foggy emotional state making you feel guilty, even if the fraction of you that’s still of sober mind knows that you have nothing to feel guilty for. The seeds of insecurity take root in your head, questioning if he secretly resents being with you, if you’re too much of a burden that he wishes he wasn’t your alpha.

Mark reads the emotional turmoil brewing on your precious face. In an effort to soothe the distress, he quickly leans over to kiss it away. A handful of adoring pecks down your face, lips lightly kissing your forehead twice, the tip of your nose and finally to your lips. He is much gentler now than the hand responsible for the arousing sting to your scalp. Mark tastes the other alpha on your mouth and grins anyway.

“I don’t want you to feel bad about it, y/n.” He again brushes a few stray tears away from where they spill from the corners of your wide, glossy eyes. “I just wanna make sure you’re well taken care of this time.”

“Even without you, I can take care of myself well enough,” you sniffle, lying through your teeth, fooling no one, not even yourself. 

Your hand twitches, wanting to prove a point but hesitating because you're not used to being watched by two sets of eyes. 

“Go ahead and touch yourself, princess. I know you want to,” Mark tells you.

“R-really? Like, um…” You swallow the lump in your throat. “...in front of him too?” 

You sneak a glance at Haechan, who, by the looks of it, is about ready to unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole any second now. You vaguely remember wanting him to do so not too long ago in your most fuzzy heated state.

“Yes, in front of me and Haechan.” 

“Aw, sweetheart. I just fucked your pretty cunt and yet you still feel embarrassed?” Haechan pouts in mock sympathy. “That’s adorable.”

Mark exchanges a look with his best friend before turning back to you. “Be a good girl for me and demonstrate how you used to do it before we met. You can do that, right, babe?” 

An adoring smile reaches his lips, eyes locking with yours. You could try to deny the lewd act, but above all else, you want to please your alpha. 

Mark wants you to be a good girl, and that is exactly what you will be. You gulp, releasing a shaky sigh, and nodding timidly. Your mouth twitches up to mirror his sincere smile as best as you can manage.

“That’s my girl,” Mark beams.

Mark knows how to comfort you, pushing two fingers into your mouth to give you something to wrap your lips around. He gently cups the back of your hand and guides it lower while you’re pleasantly suckling.  

You tilt back, propping your upper body up by extending your left hand behind your back. Folding your spread legs up and planting your heals on the edge of the wide black lab table, exposing your throbbing cunt to the alphas. 

You trace your fingers through your folds, rimming your freshly used entrance before sliding two of them inside, moaning around Mark’s fingers as you follow his instructions. 

Muscle memory of touching yourself on a frequent basis over the years takes charge, and within seconds, you locate your weak spot. 

“There you go. Good girl.”

You mewl, your legs trembling every so often as you draw your fingers up to stimulate your clit. The muscles in your face are equally as prone to a visceral jumpy reaction as your lower half is. 

Craving more, you lay your upper body back against the table, and switch hands to curl your left fingers in your abused pussy and rub quick circles over the hood of your clit, stroking up and down to stimulate every nerve around the electrifying spot. 

“M-mar…” you whimper, drool trailing from your stuffed mouth. “Fuck-fuck me. Please, I n-need your cum now.”

Mark bestows a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “How about you show me how bad you want it, eh?”

You hop off the table and lower to your knees obediently, folding your legs underneath you and sitting back on your feet, hands placed flat on your thighs, spine arched to show the round curve of your ass.

Haechan whistles. “You sure did train her well.”

“Nah, man. y/n didn’t need training. She’s just a perfect omega.” Mark smiles, happy to show you off. He pets your head as you start to squirm and quietly whimper. 

“Open your mouth, baby.” 

You part your lips, holding your tongue out to catch the spit that falls from Mark’s mouth. He hums, approvingly, watching you swallow it and open your mouth again. He pauses for a second before flicking his chin at Haechan. 

“You want Haechan’s spit too?”

You glance at Haechan and release an affirmative noise a second later. Your core aches for further rough filling again. You rub your slippery thighs together, feeling more slick gush from your throbbing pussy, increasingly aroused when Haechan steps up to the plate. 

He lets a string of saliva dangle from his tongue, slowly dripping into your mouth, and partially dribbling down your chin intentionally, simply because he wants to make a mess of your pretty face.

You're about to wrap your lips around Mark’s cockhead when all of a sudden, the sharpest pain stabs your abdomen. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, crumpling into a ball, squeezing your eyes shut, and nearly blacking out. 

Mark kneels down and rubs your shoulder, lifting your head to look you square in the face. Worry colors his sharp features and shatters the heated, public pornographic fantasy. 

“Shit. y/n’s cramps usually subside for an hour or so after getting a knot,” he mutters to Haechan. “I didn’t want to do this…but I don’t think we have much of a choice now…”

[hint for pt 2]

additional warnings: dr jaem thorough exam, double penetration, spitroasting, oral (fem & male), face sitting, throat fucking, choking, somnophilia, squirting, sex toys, nipple play and breast milking. alright, i think that's it.

it’s 2023.

why did it take me this fucking long to write markhyuck x yn ?? i said i’d write for this pairing in FEB 20 FUCKING 21.

sorry for not posting in forever. the #1 motivation for writers is feedback and interaction. for me, knowing people enjoy my works and appreciate the time i put into something has a huge impact. i'd be really grateful if you shared this by giving it a reblog and would love to see you spam your thoughts/reactions in the tags or comments!

[oct 12th, 2024 update]

pt 2 is about 80% done. now, i'm not saying i WON'T post it in the next week, but comments, reblogs and feedback would definitely inspire me to finish it up soon<3

okay 'tis all. thank you for reading and i hope you (yes, specifically YOU, beloved reader of mine who's reading this RIGHT NOW !) are doing well:))

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