Bus Stop

bus stop

summary: haechan rides the bus. you hop on the same ride. minutes later, you two were a couple. he never questioned why.

genre: fluff ! | word count: 1.1k

- haechan loves old stories. hell, he’s the king of hearsay and gossip. but his favorite genre? love stories--nostalgic and the most unusual ones.

he loves how his grandmother met his grandfather at a local bakery shop almost every single day. the two would often bump with each other every seven in the morning, en route to their school in the late seventies, then the rest was history.

he loves how his mother missed the train and his dad suddenly gave him a handkerchief when she cried for missing a job interview. desperate times, they said. it was the nineties. things were escalating quickly, and they had to chase the developments, even if they had to sacrifice some bits of their dreams.

but out of all the stories he heard, his favorite story is when his friend mark recalls how the two of you met.

haechan was sitting on the bus, two more stations until his next stop. then you hopped on the ride, and swear to god, you were the most beautiful person his eyes ever laid onto. you sat near him, and if haechan could actually burn holes behind your head, he thinks it probably would have happened.

then you suddenly gasped.

haechan, all alarmed, was waiting for your next move. he saw a man walking forward, looking for an occupied seat. he can see you were slightly panicking. you looked at every possible vacant seats, most of them were occupied. until you saw haechan’s, the other one being available.

you got up from your sit, backward facing the man whom haechan is most curious about is still looking for a vacant. then haechan starts to realize that you are coming in his direction.

you hurriedly sat down next to him, and haechan swears his heartbeat doubled and his heartbeats were beating so loudly, a person could hear if the air conditioner was not turned on.

haechan saw you desperately keeping your head down. your eyes closed, almost so forcefully. you let your hair do all the hiding, too.

then all of the sudden, “are you okay?” he said.

you jolted at the sound of his voice. haechan starts to panic as well.

“sorry, sorry!” haechan shook both of his hands open. i didn’t mean to—”

“could you pretend we’re together for a bit?”

haechan, who was confused, asked. “like boyfriend?”

“yes!” you whispered loudly. haechan saw the man looking at where you are seated. he starts coming on both of your direction, your eyes were still closed and your head still facing down, haechan figured it was time to do it.

so haechan extended his arm and wrapped it around your shoulders. you leaned toward him. it felt warm, just right, haechan thought. but he could still feel you were tensed.

he asked, “is this… tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?”

“okay.” a faint voice he heard. haechan couldn’t help but to smile. on the other hand, the man is already set on his seat, a bit farther from where you are both.

haechan did not tell you that the man is not looking anymore, he does not know why, but he felt like you needed this the most right now. so he just let you be. hell, he did not even ask you why. he just straight-up trusted you. being such a simp gets him into deep shit sometimes, he realized.

haechan looked at the window and figured this was his stop. you, who is still bit shuddering, noticed he is reaching his bag while his arm is still wrapped around your frame. you looked at him and said, “can i… can i go with you?”

he no longer asked why. fuck it, haechan thought.

he removed his arm around you and he let you stand up while the bus is still moving, almost near the next station. haechan put his backpack on his shoulder and followed your gestures. and when the bus stopped, you slowly headed toward the exit while your head is still facing down. when haechan noticed you were near where the man was seated, he hurriedly followed you and walked clumsily. he did it to get the man’s attention to focus only on him, and not yours.

once you exited the bus, the wind slightly danced and grazed its touch on your face. the sun hit your pretty features, and haechan was again, starstrucked.

“thank you, oh gosh.” you said with a relief. “thank you, thank you!”

“it’s okay…” haechan chuckled. “can i ask why, if it’s… okay?”

“he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“oh?”

“oh.” you copied him. he thought it was silly—a cute silly.

“yeah, he cheated on me and i kind of slapped him in the face, so…”

“oh.”

“yeah…”

you noticed his features. to you--this unnamed cute boy--had tanned skin. his body frame looks huggable, which was proven earlier, by the way. he is a bit taller than you but you would not mind looking up just to see him laughing while his head falls down because of embarrassment.

but shit. you have to go back to reality now.

“ah, shit!” you looked at your wristwatch. “i have to get to class. i’m sorry i—”

“it’s good! it’s fine.” haechan said. “happy to help.”

you moved a bit forward from the waiting bus shed and called for a cab. when the car stopped and your things were placed inside, you spared one last glance at haechan and said, “thanks, boyfriend. you look… good, by the way. hope you know that.”

haechan blushed. he reached for the cab’s door and closed it. and when the cab started hitting the road, haechan was left on the sidewalk, muttering shit!

he forgot to ask your name.

“and that’s why haechan’s the stupidest person to ever!” mark raised his voice, almost singing it in a happy tune. “exist!”

jaehyun and johnny laughed along. haechan looked defeated. even though he never got your name, it was still his favorite story in the world. it could have been his “and kids, that’s how i met your mother!” story, almost qualifying to how endearing his grandparents' and parents’ love stories were like, a one-of-a-kind—but the universe had other plans for the resident simp.

and so it did.

haechan, who came from the subway and headed toward the bus waiting shed, stood and listened to his morning playlist. he opened his can of orange juice to start his day. he did kind of struggle, though. the juice started flowing on the floor, making his black shirt a bit damp. he looked around to only see a garbage bin and an empty vending machine that could have had a pack of tissue.

then his eyes landed across the bus waiting shed.

there was you, eyebrows scrunched as if you were also trying to see who was on the other side.

and when you realized it was him, haechan started waving his free hand like a little kid. like, who the fuck cares if his clothes and other hand were now sticky, right?

you smiled, almost so beamingly, so lovingly.

and haechan never thought he would believe in fate until he finally and officially met you.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔... never thought that in a million years he would be using his six eyes to play hide 'n seek with little kids.

his own little kids for that matter.

you always told your children that their father had good eyes, but they've never believed you till now. you're seated on the sofa next to your blindfolded husband, head leaning on his shoulder as you both take in the shenanigans of your young children.

"where am i, daddy?" the youngest chirps, teetering on her feet behind the sofa in the living room.

"hm. let me guess." your husband chuckles, just to fuel your daughter's antics.

he knows exactly where she stands and what soft, fuzzy pieces of the carpet tickle her little toes as she sways back and forth in her little pink princess dress. your husband's black bandage is wrapped around his eyes, and your children stifle their giggles as he pretends to ponder.

"he can't see us, can he?" the oldest whispers.

you shake your head with a soft smile.

a beat of silence before your husband speaks again.

"you're behind the sofa, aren't you, my little flower?" gojo speaks, and a fit of his daughter's girlish giggles makes his heart feel as warm as springtime.

"okay, but where am i, dad?" the oldest asks from where he's perched on a pillow in the center of the room.

"hmm." gojo hums. "you're sitting on mommy's favorite pillow. you're right in front of me."

a soft gasp is drawn from your son, and you watch as gojo lifts the black blindfold. he gives you a playful wink when the kids aren't looking before adjusting the blindfold.

"that's not fair!" the oldest protests. "is he cheating?"

you laugh.

"your father is definitely not cheating." you wave your hand in front of his blindfolded eyes. "see?"

your son pouts.

"that's so cool, daddy!" the youngest smiles. "can we do it again?"

"if mommy says yes." gojo replies, voice smooth as ever.

two pairs of puppy eyes meet yours.

when you say yes, they both cheer happily.

and one day they'll grow old, and he'll tell them about his six eyes and his keen gifts and treasures. his kids will grow up and gasp, shocked that their father really did have exceptional eyesight. they'll laugh and remember the times their father used to play with them, and look at those childhood memories fondly. but for now they're still little and full of light and spirit, hearts warm and tummies full with the dinner you made them an hour ago.

"okay, go hide again!" gojo chuckles, and his children scurry off with pattering feet.

your husband presses his lips to your shoulder gently before slipping his blindfold back on. a silent thanks.

he'll let children be children.

after all, no one is allowed to take the youth from young people, not even himself.

© YUNYMPHS modifications, reposts, and translations of any kind are strictly prohibited.

stupid cupid

pairing: neighbor!jaemin x reader

side pairing: chenji, markhyuck, noren kinda honestly this is jeno x everyone

genre: soulmates, fluff, ?crack?, the littlest tiniest bit of angst

warnings: (these are all super minor warning) legal drug use, sexual jokes, swearing, internalized homophobia, cheating, there is also very very very minor mentions of poison, vore, blood, gaslighting, ghosts and, murder but these are all in passing comments or jokes

a/n: im not a big fan of this au until later parts so please bear with me🙏

soulmates au

~ in which you’re pretty sure your next door neighbor is a murderer but you’re locked out and really need a place to stay ~

alternatively: the world is colourless until you kiss your soulmate and jaemin really hates colour

part 1: introductions

part 2: alien

part 3: caramel latte

part 4: bestfriend

part 5: strawberry !!

part 6: heterophobic

part 7: emotional support malewife

part 8: one month

part 9: espresso

part 10: bowling

part 11: lee jeno?

part 12: third wheel

part 13: nom nom

part 14: beep bop zip zorp

part 15: cookies and cream

part 16: heart problems

part 17: cop bunny

part 18: jfk

part 19: 𝖎 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖈𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚

part 20: shade of gray

part 21: mini fridge

part 22: *7 way

part 23: darling

part 24: knock?

part 25: my forever buddy

epilogue

haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby   read part 2 here <3

'cause he's so pretty when he goes down on me gold-skinned, eager baby 

haechan x fem!reader 7.2k, smut, minors dni, a bit of fluff, basically haechan loves your boobs. not proofread i was too excited. content: chest/boobs/nipples fixation if i ever seen one, consensual somnophilia but not really because one of them is awake, a little bit of teasing and manipulating i guess, unprotected sex, masturbating with a bra (m), shower sex, titty fucking, a little mention of dumbification, dom-ish haechan turned desperate needy (and dare i say, a little bit subby...?) haechan...ngl reader doesn't get to cum a lot this is mostly about haechan a/n: thank you all for waiting i really hope this lives up to your expectations or it's at least a little hot until the call with mark, you hadn’t really noticed at all. 

“dude he’s like…fucking obsessed with your boobs.” mark insists. over video-call, there’s a slight lag between his voice and his actions, but there’s no mistaking the sincerity on his face. 

“are you sure?” you ask, skeptically. “he’s never mentioned it to me at all.” 

mark laughs. “he said he doesn’t want to seem like a perv, so he never brings it up with you.” tilting his head to the side, “i guess that’s why he keeps telling me about it. you should do something about it for your anniversary or something.” 

haechan was a careful boyfriend. you appreciated the way his hands never lingered excessively on your waist even as he was a touchy person. you appreciated how, even if you had just come out from your shower in your towel — hair dripping wet, the material barely skimming the tops of your thighs, he kept his voice as steady as possible while handing you a robe. you appreciated the effort it took for him to keep his palms planted firmly on the bed above your head even as he made love to you. even as you grabbed at him incessantly, his fingers would go white, twisting in the sheets as he held himself back. 

and yet, something in you wanted to see him lose control completely. 

“yeah,” you breathe out, slowly. “i should.” 

happy anniversary, haechan. 

x

you start out small. you just need to see if mark might be onto something. 

“haechan, what should i wear to dinner?” 

haechan had been hyping up this date night for weeks and weeks. you know he researched the restaurant extensively, reading guides and blog posts about which wine to pair with each course. and for the past 30 minutes while you got ready, he sat patiently in the living room on his phone, sitting carefully so his button down shirt and slacks didn’t wrinkle. it was one of the things you found most endearing about him — how much he wanted things to be perfect even as the two of you got close to your second year of being a couple. you just wanted things to be perfect for him too. 

now, at your question, he wanders into your room, an easy smile on his face already. crossing over to where you stand in front of your mirror, he kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying from side to side. 

“that looks good, baby,” he says, sincerely. “you wanna head out now?”

“wait,” you untangle yourself from him and he steps away politely. “i’ll give you another option.” 

grabbing at the hem of your black turtleneck, a purposefully high collared choice, you tug it off you as quick as you could. you take a quick glance at the mirror, and sure enough haechan has averted his eyes at the prospect of seeing you topless. staring resolutely at the floor, you think you can almost see a red begin to tint his cheeks. 

“tell me when you’re done,” he mumbles, and you want to tilt his head up and make him look at you in the nice lacy bra you’d picked out, but you hold back. you promised you were going to start with something more subtle. 

and so you pull on a tight cropped cardigan with a low dipping neckline — one that hugs and accentuates your chest really nicely. doing up the buttons as quickly as you could, making sure it was just the right tightness, you tap him on the shoulder. 

“done.” 

observing him closely through the mirror, you see how his eyes jump instinctively to your chest, and then to your face, before they gravitate downwards again and settle into what is certainly a stare. almost as if he couldn’t resist. 

and were you imagining things, or was he breathing a little harder than before?

“haechan?” you prompt, and you bite back a smile when you see him jolt a little out of his daze, blinking rapidly. “thoughts?” 

“this one,” he blurts out. almost comically with how he can’t take his eyes off you, he darts out his tongue to wet his lips before repeating himself. “this one…it’s…you…” he swallows. “you should wear this one to dinner.” 

“it’s not too tight?” frowning exaggeratedly, you adjust your bra such that your boobs shift around a little under the top, squeezing them together. 

haechan hesitates. “actually…”, fuck he thinks to himself. because if you wear this to the restaurant, everyone will be able to see you. and he’ll be forced to pretend not to notice all throughout the meal. how the fuck, he thinks, as he watches you adjust your top again, am i supposed to think about wine pairings now?

“yes?” you revel in the way his eyes have glazed over entirely. 

“the first top.” he nods, almost as if convincing himself. “the turtleneck’s good.”

“why?” 

pause. “black looks better on you.” he slots his hands into his pockets, bouncing on his toes. “if you’re ready i’ll get the door.” 

“okay, you go on first.” you think you see relief on his face as he speedwalks out the door. 

twirling on the spot, thanking your lucky stars for mark’s tip-off, you swap out your black cardigan in exchange for the turtleneck, and head out to join your boyfriend at the doorway. 

x

it was exciting — thinking of ways to test haechan, little by little. it wasn’t that he wasn’t a passionate boyfriend, or that he was too shy. he had quite the dirty mouth if the atmosphere ever called for it, and he never attempted to hide his sounds of pleasure if you felt particularly good wrapped around him. but there was no denying that some part of him was always in control. 

because there was one version of haechan, who was something like this: 

“haechan?” 

he made a soft sound, turning to look at you from where you were seated on the other end of the couch. nights like these — with the television light illuminating your faces, haechan cozy and warm in an hoodie and sweatpants, you in one of his old shirts, with just enough of your bodies touching to give each other space and affection, — these were the nights you always felt a little more touch-starved than usual. and your boyfriend was just an arm’s length away, ready to love you in any way you ask.  

“baby?” 

you extend your arms out, reaching for him. “kisses please.” 

smiling, he reaches out and gently pulls you into his lap. your face turned towards him, the two of you beam at each other as haechan cups your face tenderly. dipping his head down so your noses touch, he goes a little cross-eyed as he basks in the feeling of your skin against his, his gaze shining with adoration. 

“okay,” he whispers, as he captures your lips in a sweet, patient, kiss. and another. and another, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the feeling, his hands never moving from the way he holds your face. afterwards, he wraps you in your arms so you can rest your head against his chest, and each time you raise your head up he kisses you indulgently. 

and when, as this progresses, your hands begin to wander purposefully to the strings of his sweatpants, he swats them away softly – the tiniest bit of flush on his cheeks as his heartbeat quickens, flustered.

“just kissing, baby,” he presses his lips on your forehead to emphasise his point. “just want to be close to you.” 

and then there was -

“haechan,” you whine. 

his head thrown back, he at least makes the effort to focus his eyes on you. but his body doesn’t stop moving, his grip on your waist bruising as he fucks up into you with more fervor. 

“yeah?” he mumbles. 

“kiss me?” 

his head snaps to you, and the side of his mouth quirks up. “hold that thought.” 

and then he’s flipping the two of you over. still inside you, he hikes your legs up and wraps them around his waist. your arms go to his shoulders instinctively, while his move upwards to cage you in. and then he goes still. 

“beg for it.” looking way too pleased with himself, he swivels his hips in slow motions, watching your face carefully to find your sweet spot, the angle that will drive you insane. he knows when he’s found it: your body shudders, your nails dig into his back and he hisses with pain. 

“haechan, please…” you whine, as he starts to pull out of you, only to slam right into that one spot inside you that makes you see stars. surrendering yourself to him, you ramble on, “fuck, please, touch me, please…” 

“what did you say, princess?” he buries his face in your neck, the way you squeeze around him and the obscene sounds of how wet you are beginning to get to him, as he begins to chase his own high. 

his hot breath on your neck, his lips brushing against skin but never sucking, his hands hovering beside you but not touching. 

control. boundaries. lines which you would like to see blurred, and crossed. 

x

you knew he would be having a long day at work. he had told you the exact timings of his most important meetings, his lunch break, consults with clients, and then the time and duration of his less important meetings. 

so nothing was a mistake when you sent him the photo of you at 3.45pm sharp, right at the last 15 minutes of his least important meeting of the day. 

because you were nothing if not considerate. 

haechan had been bored, sitting in his swivel chair, trying to maintain eye contact with the zoom conference but also scrolling on his phone when the investors rambled on for just a little too long. 

y/n: image

thinking little of it, maybe you needed an opinion on an outfit, he glanced at his laptop one more time before unlocking his phone and opening his chat with you. 

and he freezes. 

because on the screen, is a photo of you. specifically, from the waist up, wearing one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned almost all the way and pushed open so he could see the very pretty, very lacy, barely-there bra you were wearing. one that was practically transparent with its mesh and lace, your nipples in stiff peaks poking out through the material. the sizing of the flimsy bra making your breasts look even fuller, even softer, than usual. 

fuck. 

he stares at your photo, lips slightly parted. he swallows. he swallows again. embarrassingly, his slacks begin to feel a little tight. fingers uncoordinated and slow, he types out the only response he can think of. 

haechan: hi 

haechan: did you send this to the wrong person? 

while he waits for your response, he clicks back to the photo. he can’t help it, what if you decide to unsend it? the thought flits through his mind, and hurriedly, he goes to save it just in case it didn’t download to his phone. 

y/n: babe you’re my boyfriend who else would i send this too? 

haechan: oh 

haechan: right

he can’t help it. the meeting gone straight from his mind, and your conversation with him slowly making less and less sense, the only thing he can think of doing is zooming in on the photo. deep down, he’s always been obsessed with your chest, but he always felt that it was a weird thing to bring up. you’ve never expressed a fixation with any particular body part of his, and he feels wrong for all the times he sneaks glances at you: be it from over your top, or when you’re midway through changing. he would never dream of asking to touch, but god he wants to. he doesn’t even know what he wants to do with your boobs other than to see, and to touch. and here you are, handing him his first opportunity to act on the former. 

so he stares, and he stares. wildly he considers setting this photo as his homescreen. when the meeting ends, he slams his laptop quickly shut. 

he was going to have to think of a way to pretend this didn’t affect him the way it did. 

x

“needed you all day, baby,” he groaned. haechan had just gotten home, spent about 5 minutes upholding the facade that he could spend a quiet evening just chatting with you after the events of the day, before he’d finally had enough and tugged you into his lap to suck on your tongue. gasping, his body shivering with need, he separated from you just long enough to make out the words “need you. right now”.

indulging him, you kissed him back just as fiercely. “hold on,” you say, as you clamber up from the couch and cross over to the dining table. teasingly, you place a hand on the tabletop, leaning on it as you smile. 

“bend me over?” 

still slumped into his seat, haechan pokes his tongue into his cheek in thought. “why don’t you show me how you want it first?” he challenges.

diligently, you bend yourself over the edge of the table, propping yourself up on your elbows. wiggling your ass a few times in the air, and trying to ignore the fear that he’ll laugh at you, you look over at him expectantly, doing everything but batting your lashes. 

haechan does laugh at you, but not in literal amusement. the dark sound of derision he lets out shoots straight to your core, as he gets up almost lazily, strolling over to you. 

“baby wants it from the back?” 

standing behind you, he runs his fingertips down your spine, stroking your back. it would almost be a tender action if not for the fact that he takes his hand away only to place it between your spread legs. 

sliding your pants together with your panties down your legs, he continues to kiss your shoulders as he begins running his fingers up and down your slit, eliciting a whine from you. 

“haechan…please don’t tease,” you plead, as he places a gentle pressure at your clit. “need you so bad too.” 

“shhh…” he coos, continuing to make soft clicking noises as he circles his digits around your entrance. “i’ll take care of you. just need to stretch you out first, okay?” 

slowly, he scissors his fingers inside of you, pushing them against your walls. wet sounds fill the still air in the kitchen, mixed with your whispers and his continued efforts to comfort you the best he knew how. losing yourself in pleasure, the ache in your belly begins to build, your legs shaking as your hips begin to buck against him subconsciously. 

“getting excited?” he teases, removing his hands from your core. you whine, a high and embarrassing sound, but you can’t bring yourself to care beyond the disappointment at how empty it feels without his warmth. 

“wait for me, princess.” you hear the sound of haechan fumbling with his belt, the clink of it hitting the floor. and then, you feel something thick and heavy press between your legs, stroking up and down your soaked slit. “first time trying this for me too,” he mumbles, and in the cloudy haze of your mind you register that this truly was the first time haechan was fucking you from the back. 

pulling your hips towards him with a slight roughness, he eases into you. the stretch is delicious, the new angle seemingly allowing him to go deeper, and he lets out a low groan at how your walls seem to suck him in. he thrusts a few times experimentally, making you gasp. which in turn makes him still.

‘everything okay, baby?” 

“yes,” you breathe. when he still doesn’t move, you wiggle your hips again, trying to squeeze around him. “please, please haechan i need you to move-” 

“i got you.” rolling his hips with a slow and steady pace, haechan holds your sides gently. but something about it feels off to even you: there’s something not quite right with the way he’s almost quiet, the desperation that started out this entire night seemingly evaporated. 

haechan continues for only a minute more before he pulls out. 

“i’m sorry, but fuck this,” he all but spits. grabbing your hips roughly, which makes you yelp in surprise, he flips you over and pushes you further up the tabletop. you look up at him — his hair mussed up, his chest heaving, a new aggression to him as he pushes your shirt up to expose your chest. 

bingo. 

hiking your legs up so they hook around his waist, he rams back into you. your back arches with how full you feel, the blunt head of his cock dragging against your walls as he fucks into you. hard. unable to control himself, his mouth practically hangs open as he pants, moans spilling from his mouth easily. 

“need,-” he starts, before quickening his pace even further. “needed to see,-” a hand drops one of your legs, and moves to your back to unclasp your bra. shoving it up so it no longer covers your breasts, a high whine tears from the back of his throat as he sees how each thrust makes your breasts bounce.

something clicks in your head. some mixture of the adrenaline, and how sexy haechan always made you feel judging by how desperate he could get around you, boosted your confidence tenfold. 

bringing your hands to your chest, you cup your breasts with your palms and give them a firm squeeze. the lewdness of it coupled with the stimulation making you arch your back, pushing you into him. 

and haechan cums.  

x

later, with his arms draped around you sleepily, you shift a little in his hold so he opens his eyes to look at you. “about just now…” haechan nods, letting you know you can continue. “so you don’t like it when you can’t see me?” you whisper, not wanting to break the silence and the tenderness that always filled the room on late nights like these. 

he hesitates. “i love everything i do with you” he says, quietly and sincerely. a hand comes up to brush your hair out of your eyes. “you know you’re already perfect to me, right?” 

the comment makes you warm up inside. love was so easy for haechan, and he never failed to remind you of how much he loved you all the time. 

“i know.” you snuggle closer to him. “but i just want to know when it feels just as good for you as it feels for me.” 

he hums in agreement. “maybe…” he bites his lip as he picks out the words in his head. “i think i just like to face you as we’re doing it. i like it when you…” suddenly shy, he nuzzles his face into the pillow a little so the rest of his sentence comes out muffled. “when you ride me, or when i’m on top of you.”

deciding to tease him a little, you add, “and the thing i did with my boobs…?” 

nervously, he blinks at you. “what?” 

“haechan, you came when i started playing with my chest.” 

“i j-just liked seeing you make yourself feel good,” he sits up, flustered. “i don’t-that’s not why i…” 

“okay, okay.” you get up too, leaning against the headboard. reaching out to pat him on the cheek, you feel warmth on your fingertips and decide not to push things further.  

“i just want you to know that if you wanted to try anything, you can just bring it up.” 

“i don’t want…i don’t want to try anything…” he mumbles. in the moonlight, you can see how he’s turned away from you, staring at the clock on your bedside table. 

and suddenly, you know exactly what you want to do. 

“or you can try it when i’m asleep.” 

confusedly, he turns around and blinks at you. “what?” 

“i trust you. i give you full permission to touch me in my sleep. whatever you want.” 

he gapes at you, speechless. you wonder if he’s going to protest again, you wonder if you pushed things too far. 

but something in your proposition must have stirred something in him, because eventually, he settles on asking…

“are you sure?” 

you reach over and take his hand to soothe him. “i’m sure.”

x

“has haechan mentioned anything?” 

you’re videocalling mark again. it had been a full week since you invited haechan to basically do whatever he wanted to you — a full week of staying up late and feeling him slide into bed behind you, waiting for what felt like hours. the most he did was maybe pull you towards him to cuddle, but he always did that. 

but it was also a myriad of little things you began to notice in that week. the way he would kiss you a little harder on days you walked around the house without a bra on. how he liked to hug you with his arms pressed against your upper back, pushing you into him. 

and the little things you began to do instead: wearing lower cut tops around the house, bending over so he could catch an eyeful of your cleavage. but every night, your boyfriend still lay still behind you, and you were beginning to think you had truly pushed things too far.

marks hums in thought. “not really.” he pauses. “actually, he doesn’t even talk about your boobs anymore.” 

“he doesn’t?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing. 

“nope.” mark sighs in relief. “i didn’t think the day would ever come. did you finally let him act on it or something?” 

“not really,” you grumble. 

“maybe he’s just marvelling at the freedom he has on which to love on your boobs now,” mark assures you. “i’m sure he’ll figure out what to do soon.” a pause. “sorry, is it just me or is it absurd that i’m comforting you about the fact that surely haechan will be obsessed with your boobs again?” 

“it’s a little absurd,” you concede. “am i setting feminism back by 100 years with my attempts to seduce him?”

“a little bit,” he nods, leaning back in his desk chair. “maybe just 50 years, though.”  

x 

you’re in bed, listening to the sounds of haechan busying himself putting away cutlery in the kitchen drawers. the sound of the tap running when he brushes his teeth and washes his face, the light sounds of his bottles of moisturizer and cream being capped and put away. the low hum of his voice, raspy but sweet as honey, as he mumbles a tune to himself. the click of the light switch as the room is bathed in moonlight. 

your eyes firmly closed, you feel yourself begin to doze off — if he hadn’t made a move, he wasn’t likely going to all of a sudden, right? vaguely, you hear him pad over to the bed in his slippers. 

and then he stops. 

unlike all the other nights before, he doesn’t get in immediately. even with your eyes closed, you can feel him standing there, breathing, taking in the look of you in the moonlight. 

“baby?” haechan calls, softly. 

you stay silent.

“are you still awake?” 

he reaches out a hand, and shakes you gently. you make your body go as limp as possible, keeping your breathing steady. 

“y/n?” he tries again. still nothing. 

after another pause, the bed dips as his weight settles in behind you. minutes pass, before you feel his hands come to your waist. they remain there for a while, and you can almost imagine him in the dark — pupils blown out, biting his lip. just wondering. after what feels like years, the sheets rustle as his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you into his chest. 

slowly, incrementally, you feel his hands begin to slide under your shirt. his fingertips are cool against your hot skin, fluttering with a slight nervousness, and you know it’s because he’s afraid to wake you with heavier touches. higher and higher up, his palms snake their way past your stomach, until they reach the underside of your breasts. 

another pause. 

and then, his hands slide up, the drag of it heavier this time, until he has a boob held carefully in each palm. 

you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat thundering in your chest. there’s something about all of this occurring in the dark, and in complete silence, which makes you hyper-attuned to him: the slight twitch of his fingers from his nervousness, his erratic breathing on the back of your neck. 

you feel him tense his fingers a few times, if anything, getting a feel of the soft flesh. and then, he carefully tightens his hold, squeezing each breast cupped in his palm — lightly, almost guiltily at first. as if he can’t believe he’s really doing this. you can hardly believe he’s really doing this. 

“fuck”, you hear him breathe. he squeezes harder.

his movements gentle, and barely noticeable with how slow they are, he begins to roll each 

breast in his palm. “so soft…” he breathes, and bounces them experimentally, feeling them move under his touch.

trailing his fingers inwards, he touches your nipples lightly, before rolling them between index finger and thumb, letting out a groan when he finds them grow stiff and hard. feeling around your areolae, he pinches at the skin. 

when he shifts behind you, you can feel his hard cock pressed against your lower back. 

his soft mutters and swears make you want to flip over and force his head into your chest, where you know he’ll only do better with his lips and teeth and tongue. but something about his warm palms, his fingers pushing and kneading and rolling, swiping in your cleavage, are so calming and loving that it starts to lull you to sleep. 

the last thing you register is his one of his hands leaving your chest, and the wet sounds of haechan fucking into his fist. 

x

haechan thinks he’s lost his mind. 

he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flickering his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggling up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction. 

he can’t remember the last time he had fallen asleep without reaching over to touch your breasts, and thumb at your nipples. his mind keeps trailing back to thoughts of going further, of kissing your chest, of sucking on your pretty tits and watching your nipples stiffen and harden because of him. 

and he thinks he’s beyond help when he finds himself standing over your open drawer, feeling himself grow hard as he bends down to run his fingers over your collection of bras, brassiere, and lingerie. 

because admittedly, ever since mark tipped you off, you had been stocking up on the pretty fabrics, testing out padded and non-padded ones, choosing colors you know haechan liked to see you in, materials like mesh and lace and cotton. 

his fingers rub against a soft, satin-y material, and he pulls it out. it’s light blue and flimsy, opening in the front, and from the way he’s memorized you through touch alone he knows it will barely cover your chest. it was a piece that would tease him more than anything, and he imagines the satin rubbing against his face, you pushing your chest into him as he unclasps it, watching the fabric fall away from your pretty breasts as you expose yourself to him. 

he can’t help himself, as he falls backwards onto the bed, scrambling so he can sit against the headboard. tugging his pants down with a movement that is too practiced, feeling his hard cock slap up against his stomach. too hurried to get any lube or lotion, scared you’ll come back from grocery shopping to find him like this, he spits into his hand and immediately starts fisting his length, the other still clinging onto your bra. he lets out a sigh of relief, his pants slowing down as he strokes himself. 

spreading the satin out on the bed, he lets his eyes fall to it as his hand speeds up. he wonders how he can request for you to wear it, and send him a picture. maybe he could put it at the very top of your pile of underwear, so you would see it. the color of it would look so pretty against your skin, would look so pretty in your mouth, would look so pretty if he… 

and then he’s grabbing the material, still soft and silky to touch, and now he’s stroking his cock with it, and the feeling makes him gasp, his hips fucking up into his fist, legs planted on the bed so he can thrust his hips up harder. the light blue, delicate material, looks obscene against the bright red of his cock. 

he teases a finger over his slit and he whines, higher than he had ever heard himself. his chest heaving, he imagines you finding him, sitting on the bed, fucking himself into your bra, practically cumming at the thought of nuzzling his face into your boobs. he thinks of what you would say. 

or maybe you would get on top of him like you do, splitting yourself open on his cock as your tits bounce with each of your movements. 

he finishes to the thought of that, cumming straight into the material of your bra. the shame doesn’t hit him until after, when he’s trying to wash the stains out of it, a bright red that starts in his stomach and burns through his neck, cheeks, and ears. he’s silent all through dinner, faces away from you at night. 

but he can’t deny the thought that he wanted to do it again. and maybe all the other things he fantasized about. but how would he ever be able to tell you now?

x

the morning of your anniversary was when you decided this had to stop. all the teasing had begun to backfire, because having haechan’s hands on you every night — especially on the nights you had trouble sleeping, were making you need him badly. and he didn’t have a clue. 

haechan had woken up, kissed you on the cheek and wished you a happy anniversary, before heading to the kitchen. sitting on the edge of your bed, you thought hard about what exactly you should tell him — whether you should bring up the fact that mark was the reason all of this even happened, if you should tell him you had been teasing him, or that you had been awake on all those nights. 

suddenly, it seemed to add up to quite a lot of manipulation and lying. you felt a bit nervous. 

walking to the kitchen, you enter just in time to see him finish preparing the ingredients for the romantic breakfast he had planned. sweeping them into bowls lined up neatly on the countertop, he turns and smiles at the sight of you, standing there timidly in the entryway. 

“what’s wrong, love?” he comes over to you, draping his arms over your hips. “is everything okay?” 

swaying slightly, you look into his eyes, so full of love, and know that you can’t keep anything from him. and also that you weren’t brave enough to do it right then and there. “haechan?” 

“mmhm?” 

you hesitate. “i’m… i’m going to take a shower.” 

laughing slightly, he tilts his head to the side. “o…kay?” 

“do you want to join me?” you say in a breath.

you watch as the words hit him. slowly, he blinks at you, before he swallows, his throat bobbing. “really? that won’t make you uncomfortable?” 

“yes,” you breathe. “i want to.” 

it takes a few more assurances from you before haechan agrees, holding on to your hand as the two of you step into the bathroom. he waits for you to undress first, looking away politely as you get in the shower, before he undresses and steps in after you. as the hot water cascades over you, the steam beginning to make the air heavy, he kisses your shoulder gently before turning you around so your back is facing him. 

“i’ll wash your back for you,” he says, kindly. you hear him uncap the shower gel, and slowly start to scrub at your back lightly with the loofah. sometime between turning around and him washing your back, he’s turned off the water, and there aren’t any sounds except for foam and soap moving against skin. 

“haechan?” 

“yes?” 

you turn around. haechan lifts the loofah away from your skin and looks at you, curiously. 

“what’s wrong?” 

“wash my front for me.” 

he bites his lip, before nodding. 

“okay.” 

he starts at your shoulders, down to your collarbones, working small circles into your skin. when he reaches the top of your chest, where the swell of your breasts begins, he hesitates again, lifting the loofah from your skin so his hand hovers between the two of you. you decide that now was a good a time as ever. 

“haechan…” you reach out and take his hand. and he looks so nervous, his breaths coming in quicker, his eyes darting between yours and your interlocked hands, that it makes you want to delay for just a little bit longer. 

“haechan, you do know that it feels good when you touch my chest, don’t you?” 

“what?” he stares at you. he seemed like he was hardly breathing. 

“i may have been awake a few of the nights in these past two weeks,” you say, slowly, before looking him in the face again. “you left me feeling really needy, you know that?” 

“sorry,” he apologises reflexively, before stopping as the words register in his head. “so, it…doesn’t make you…uncomfortable?” 

“no.” 

slowly, he nods, and then he adds, “you’re not weirded out?” 

“no,” you shake your head patiently. “it’s the opposite of all that. i love it when you touch me there.” 

“yeah?” he breathes, and you watch as his eyes darken just slightly, his chest falling and rising at a slightly quicker rate. and then he’s dropping the loofah, his hands going to your waist as he kisses you, hard. backing you up against the shower wall, he continues to kiss you feverishly as his hands go to the slope of your shoulders, trailing down your front until they cup your breasts, the movement so practiced and fluid that you don’t have the time to catch your breath. 

“always,” he gasps, “wanted to do this,” he moans into your mouth as he plays with your nipples, stroking them, his hands still slippery with soap. 

his movements jerky and disjointed, he turns the water back on so that it runs over the two of you, dousing your chest with warm water so that it’s slippery to touch, and if possible they feel even squishier and softer in his hold. groaning, he pushes his head into your neck as he squeezes them in his firm grip. 

“haechan,” you whine, his hands on you, and the desperation in his rough actions making you need him even more. 

he doesn’t bother to respond, shoving his knee between your legs to knock them apart and letting you grind on his thigh. its the way the movement is meant to placate you, as if he was too busy with your breasts to even pay attention to you, that makes it even more satisfying to grind down on him. 

“can i,” he gasps, breaking away from you. somehow already fucked out even though all he’s done is touch you, he pleads with you with his eyes. unable to catch his breath, he stutters out, “c-can i please, please, suck them?” 

you curse, but he seems to take it negatively. gulping, he begins to move away from you, his hands trembling, but your desperation overtakes you. 

grabbing his head by his hair, you pull his face towards your chest. and now it’s your turn to beg. 

“please,” you rasp, and that’s all you have to say because immediately his lips latch onto your right nipple, a whine sounding from him high and drawn out. swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, his other hand goes to your neglected breast, rolling the other nipple with his thumb and forefinger. all the while, his hips grind mindlessly, his hard cock rubbing against your upper thigh, spilling precum all over your skin that’s washed away just as quickly. 

haechan is in seventh heaven. he thinks he could spend forever like this, suckling on your tits, fucking into your thighs, listening to your pretty gasps and sighs. all the embarrassment from before has melted away, and all that’s left is his desire to touch and to taste, knowing that it brought you as much pleasure as it did for him. 

“eager baby,” you coo affectionately, trying to keep your voice level. with a feeling of elation, watching him grind against your skin and suckle at you as if he was a baby, you realise that you’ve done it: he’s lost all semblance of control. “do you think you could cum like this?” 

haechan moans, and the sound is beautifully crude as it echoes against the bathroom tiles. open-mouthed and panting, he whines again as he switches to another breast, both hands leaving your chest in favor of tugging at his neglected cock. 

and suddenly, you know just what he needs. 

“stop,” you tell him, but it’s not convincing enough — the sight of him, and stimulation from your chest, affecting you way too much. he ignores you, continuing to slobber over you, licking at the crevice between your boobs. 

“stop,” you insist, pushing him away this time. even as he breaks apart from you, his movements halting, his eyes are still trained on your breasts, watching the streams of water slide down them, dripping off of you, as if in a trance. 

reaching behind him to turn off the water, you open the shower door. haechan blinks a few times, the dissipating steam slowly clearing the air of the tension, and clearing the fog in his head too. 

“y/n,” he swallows. “i need you, please-” 

“you’ll have me,” you assure him, grabbing a towel as you lead him out of the en-suite bathroom, and over to your bed. “i just know you’ll really like this, so trust me, okay?” 

“okay,” he breathes, coming to stand between your legs as you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“and-” you point at him. “you need to calm down, okay?” 

looking wounded, haechan practically whimpers, reaching for your chest. 

“it’s not that i don’t like you eager,” you say, hurriedly. “i just want you to enjoy this for longer, okay?” 

he nods. 

a smile tugs at your lips. is this how he usually felt like? watching you dumb and desperate for him? 

“words,” you tease. 

“okay,” he says softly. “i’ll try.” 

“good job, baby,” you reach up to pat him on the cheek, before turning to grab a bottle of lotion that always stood on your bedside table. lying on your back, you motion for him to come over to you. he hovers obediently, sitting on his heels. 

uncapping the lotion, you take one of his hands and squeeze out a generous amount onto his palm. 

“spread it out over my chest,” you tell him, patiently. his lips part, and he’s about to surge towards you, so you place a hand on his arm. “slowly.” 

he swallows. he takes a breath. and then he’s spreading the lotion onto his palms, and as he promised, he slowly places them on your chest and begins to apply it onto your skin. his eyes glaze over as he swipes them under your boobs, rubbing into your cleavage, smearing it in circular motions closer to your nipples. even though you enjoy his touch, and you know he’s enjoying himself too, you motion for him to stop. 

slowly, carefully, you place both hands on the sides of your boobs. haechan’s eyes widen almost comically, and you look at him sternly, reminding him to keep it together. you squeeze them together, creating a tight passage between them where your cleavage is. 

“okay,” you breathe. “now fuck them.” 

haechan’s eyes, which have been fixating on your chest the whole time, flicker up to yours in confusion. 

“baby,” you try again, “here. in between my boobs.” 

haechan had never seemed to hear of the concept. finding the words, he splutters out, “what? how? do i really-” he stares at you, again, before the arousal seems to wind him over and he shuffles up to straddle your stomach. you see his thighs trembling as his large hands cover yours, squeezing your breasts together with more force. the blunt head of his cock makes contact your boobs, and he whimpers, before slotting it in the valley of your breasts, and thrusting forwards. 

you remove your hands, seeming to give him total control, when really he’s lost it all completely. 

his mouth hangs open as he lets out moan after moan, thrusting harder and harder into the tight passage. “fuck,” he gasps, going to stroke your nipples as he raises himself slightly, the need to fuck your tits harder and faster driving his hips forward and making him almost lose balance. strings of curses and nonsensical rambles fall from his puffy lips as he chases his high, wanting to enjoy it for longer but also wanting to cum. 

the sight of him, flushed and panting, holding onto your chest as if for dear life, is enough to satiate you for a little while, but soon the wetness between your thighs and throbbing of your clit feels too much to handle on your own.

“baby,” you breathe, “do you want to-” 

but at the petname, haechan lets out one high whine, and cums — all over your chest, up to your neck and chin and some even dribbling onto your face. all the while, he continues to fuck into your chest, until the stimulation is too much for him and he falls back on his heels, needing to get away. 

there’s a pause. 

his heaves and pants filling the room, he sits on the bed resting on his elbows. you’re a little winded too, but you don’t know what from. it takes him a while to calm down, even after you clean yourself up and pull him towards you to cuddle, him laying a hand on your boob the entire time. 

finally, his head seems to clear and he comes back to himself. looking at you carefully, he furrows his brow. 

“so that day with the turtleneck…” 

“yeah,” you say, feeling a little shy. you can’t believe he remembered something so far back. 

“and the photo of you in the bra…” 

“i thought you’d like it,” you offer, and he laughs at that. before he pauses, and really looks at you. 

“and you haven’t cum at all today, haven’t you sweetheart?” 

“not yet,” you breathe. 

happy fucking anniversary.

taglist: @matchahyuck , @kpopwh0r3 read part 2 here <3

HITS DIFFERENT | L.DH

TITLE: hits different

PAIRING: lee haechan x fem!reader | mc’s best friend johnny, haechan’s roommate mark (+ kinda emotional support boy when mc acts like a loser)

GENRE: non-idol au, strangers to friends with benefits to lovers, getting together, smut, angst, fluff | requested | bonus part

SUMMARY: nobody ever got under your skin, not until Haechan came in your life and changed everything. 

WARNINGS: smut, protected and unprotected sex (condom first and then mc is on the pill), multiple sex scenes, oral sex, fingering, car sex, riding, fingers sucking, face sitting, rimming, anal, mirror sex, a bit of exhibitionism (as a fantasy), praise, teasing (as in degradation but it’s not hard stuff), handjob, morning sex, kitchen sex, toys (vibrator), overstimulation, (no bdsm but) switchy dynamics, sa doesn’t happen but there are a few references to pushy behaviours, mentions of a past car accident and death of a barely mentioned character | I hope I didn’t forget anything but if I did, let me know! | kinda implied that both haechan and the reader are bi because in this house we only support mxf bi4bi couples (joking… unless) do whatever you want with this information.

WC: 44.804k

TAGLIST: @adorejaehyn​@matchahyuck​@sundhaelatte@jjhmk​@ourbeautifulaffair​@what-the-jams​@oleoleniall​ @kundann @bbagu​@ismileeprnc-responder​@produmads​@zkdlllin​@yesohhsehun​@aliceinwhateverland​@strangevante​ @cas104 @hyuckdreams​

A/N: finally writing hyuck as a loser male wife (kinda) my life is complete!!! It’s been months and I’m back with a request, I know it took long to write it but I hope whoever requested will like this. I’m still not sure about the present tense but idk I’m trying out new things. I would really appreciate if you could support my work in any way, feedback makes me happy and motivates me to keep writing. If you can, reblog so it can reach more people or come and chat in the ask box to let me know your opinion! Love you, enjoy!

It was Johnny’s fault. It’s always his fault when things don’t go as planned. 

It’s his fault if right now you are jumping around Haechan’s bedroom trying to look for your clothes while the clock is running fast, and you are running late. 

Keep reading

widowed nanami who quits management job and opens a bakery after your name when you die. usually people try to forget their pain, and it is a human emotion to avoid things that bring them discomfort. but nanami kento defies that psychology.

people come every now and then pondering at the art on the walls. you always loved lilies so he drew them himself. he is not very artistic and the lines are a bit crooked, but it is still alluring.

he loves you to the point he dedicated a day in his bakery after you. cheesecake day. because it was the first thing he baked for you at the start of your relationship and you loved it so much. on this day, he prepares all kinds of cheesecake you adored. anything grabs attention of youngsters and social media quickly so they promote his shop and soon there is a big line outside waiting for the famous cheesecake. you'd be so happy if you were there.

he never wanted to forget you to be honest. what is the point in letting go of the one thing that keeps him alive? you are his every thought. every feeling. without you he is just a man with flesh and bones. no heart.

he has your engagement and vacation pictures mounted on the wall. when the customers ask how are you doing? he just smiles and goes "she's resting. i'll be next to her soon. i'll be home."