#Yima

[sluttyten]

You In My Arms

Chapter 10: I'm Yours

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: During those first few months of your relationship, you and Haechan explore each other and adventure into new areas with each other. Not without some bumps along the way.

length:  15,168 words

tags: friends to lovers, general perversion, smut, public sex, period sex, somnophilia, light consensual non consent, voyeurism, exhibitionism, etc.

previous chapter || next chapter  (Coming Soon)

Falling in love isn’t just about having sex. Obviously. But for you and Haechan, it is a big part. 

You have a healthy, active sex life. 

Over those first couple months of your relationship, it’s hard to keep your hands off each other. 

Whether in private or in public, it doesn’t matter for either of you. At first, you definitely don’t care who sees. 

Like when you go over to Haechan and YangYang’s apartment, and after you’ve made a delicious dinner, Haechan fucks you against the sink in the kitchen, his hand over your mouth to keep your moans from echoing out of the room to where YangYang sits on the sofa. His back is to you, but all he’d really have to do is just turn his head and he’d be able to see you getting railed. Not that you care, and not that you think YangYang would really care if he caught you. Haechan has told you about all the times that he’s pretty sure YangYang let him listen to him have sex, that he even left his door cracked open for Haechan to watch.

There’s a time when you sleep over at Haechan’s, and in the morning he neglects to warn you that a visitor has arrived. YangYang isn’t there, so you feel comfortable enough to walk out of Haechan’s bedroom to where he stands in the kitchen, to draw him into a kiss, to let him lift you up to sit on the countertop, and you urge his fingers between your thighs. 

Of course, that’s when Renjun emerges from the bathroom and finds Haechan two fingers deep in your pussy. 

“Embarrassed?” Haechan teases, kissing you on the cheek, his kiss only serving to deepen the heat of your blush. “It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, right?”

Renjun laughs at that. “Should I return the favor, Haechan? Watch you with her since I know you watched us?” He gestures between you and himself. 

Haechan’s hand that rests on your thigh tightens. He leans over you a bit possessively, staring at Renjun until you lift a hand to Haechan’s cheek.

With your fingertips pressing against his cheek, you guide his attention back to you, his lips down to yours. 

Before you meet Haechan’s kiss, you groan, “Go away, Renjun.”

He laughs again. “You know, I was invited here by your boyfriend to go eat breakfast.”

Haechan’s lips twitch into a smile. “Plans changed. You can’t have any of what I’m going to eat.”

Then it is your turn to laugh as Haechan ducks down to kiss and nip at your throat. You grasp his shoulders, ignoring the way Renjun grumbles, “Gross,” before he turns and walks out of the apartment. 

Haechan and you have sneaky sex at work too. 

One horribly stormy day, the two of you are coming back from lunch when the power goes out in the building, stalling the elevator you’re in like a perfect sexy cliche. You take full advantage of it, and you sink to your knees for him. Haechan cums on your tongue and your chin, and then he spends the rest of the time that you’re trapped in there to kiss the taste of himself from you. 

There’s a late evening when you’re both still at work even though on a normal day you’d have left hours ago. You’re in the break room when Haechan sneaks up behind you and pins you against the countertop. “I’ve been thinking about doing this all day,” he groans, “This dress looks too good on you, baby.” You stand still, sinking into the feeling of his hands on your body, lifting the back of your dress up, and neither of you  make any attempt to hide what you’re doing. 

There are still a few people left in the office even at this late hour, but they’re all bowed over their work at their desks, not paying any attention to you and Haechan in the break room with the door nearly shut. But anyone could walk in at any moment, and that possibility sparks a thrill inside both of you. 

“Let them know,” Haechan says directly into your ear. “Let them all know that you’re a perfect angel for me, letting me do whatever I want with you, whenever I want.” 

You didn’t really consider Haechan to be a jealous man, but it certainly drives him a little wild when Yuta gets a little too flirtatious with you one day. Haechan knows about that brief little history you have with your coworker — you’ve both been perfectly open and honest about your sexual histories — which just invites enough jealousy in him that Haechan stays late with you that day so he can fuck you at your desk. He presses between your shoulder blades until your chest is flat against the desk, and with each of his deep, brutal thrusts your hips slam against the edge of your desk, hard enough to bruise. You love it, though; you love the way that he tries so hard to make sure that you don’t forget about him (which there is absolutely no risk of), and he tugs down the neckline of your dress, biting down on the soft part of your shoulder to leave a mark, as if laying his claim on you. 

During spring, right in that pocket of time when the days are finally warming up, when the air buzzes with insects and the heady scent of blooming flowers, freshly trimmed grass, and new green things sprouting, you and Haechan start to explore public exhibitionism a little more. Lunch dates in the park on warm days mean cute little sundresses that are easily flipped up for Haechan to finger you right there in the middle of a wide grassy stretch with passersby none the wiser. 

Warmer days mean that you break out some strappy tops, which are easier for you to slip off your shoulder, freeing a nipple or even the whole breast for Haechan to stare at hungrily while you sit across from him at an ice cream shop. 

You know people have to spot the two of you as you play these risky games. But if they do, no one makes it obvious.

Until one day.

You know for certain that an older man — mid-forties and handsome, his hair just beginning to get a bit silver at the temples, wearing a suit that is perfectly tailored to him — catches you during brunch one morning. 

It’s a small, crowded cafe. You’re in the back corner, but there are still a decent amount of tables around you, enough that it’s quite risky when you lean forward with your elbows on the table, revealing to Haechan the way that your dress has “accidentally slipped” and both of your tits peek out over the top of your dress. 

“Goddamn it,” Haechan groans. “You’re gonna do this to me now?” He glances around. “We haven’t even gotten our food yet.” 

“And?” You do your best to maintain a face of perfect innocence even as your nipples grow hard beneath Haechan’s attention and the cool air of the cafe. “That just means we have more time for fun.”

You slide one foot out of your sandal, and you lift it into Haechan’s lap. He reaches down, curling his hand around your ankle as your toes explore along the length of his thigh, dipping against the front of his pants until you find the rise of his cock. Of course he’s already half-hard from the sight of your tits. And as you caress him with your toes and the arch of your foot beneath the table, as he keeps looking at your tits, Haechan only grows harder. 

You pull your dress back up over your chest when the waitress returns, sliding your brunch onto the table, replacing your half-drained mimosas. But you leave your foot in Haechan’s lap. There’s a table cloth draped over the table anyway, so it’s not like she notices anything amiss. But after she walks away, after one of the few tables around you in this back corner finishes their brunch and leaves as well, you tug your dress down enough that your tits are at risk of spilling out. You keep your foot moving over Haechan’s erection straining against the front of his pants. 

Someone nearby loudly clears their throat, but you don’t look away from your plate. Haechan however tenses up a little, his hand squeezing your ankle. But he doesn’t push you away, doesn’t tell you to stop. So you keep going, eating and enjoying your brunch while you also enjoy getting your boyfriend off. 

Haechan ordered more food than you, so he takes longer to eat. You’re completely finished when he’s only about halfway done. And since you are somewhat bored, you pull your top back up and instead put all of your attention into what you’re doing in his lap instead. Haechan, to his credit, only twitches a little when your toes suddenly find the zipper of his pants, when you pinch the zipper between your toes and drag it down. The button fastening his pants is a little harder to navigate, but luckily he helps you out with that, reaching down and quickly flicking it open so you can get your toes there to stroke him over his underwear now. 

“What is it that you want here?” Haechan asks. He glances around, his eyes lingering a little extra long on a table to your left. 

“Take it out,” you tell him. 

Haechan’s attention lowers to his plate, his lips curving upwards as he asks, “And then what?”

“Then that’s up for you to decide.” You draw your foot out of his lap. “But if you finish your brunch and finish yourself, I may have a special gift for you later.”

Usually Haechan is in charge of special gifts for you. You don’t usually give him things, rather allowing him to dote on you. Over the weeks that have suddenly stretched into months since this relationship began, you’ve fallen a lot more comfortably into the idea of Haechan being in charge, Haechan being dominant. Not that he’s extremely dominating or anything like that, but he likes taking care of you, likes being in charge and seeing you submit to him — though sometimes that means fucking you until you’re crying and letting him do pretty much anything he wants until you spit out a safeword;  sometimes it means something entirely non-sexual like just letting him baby you and take care of you after a long day with cuddles and a nice warm shower; and then in either a sexual or non-sexual situation he gives you gifts, just little things that range from a snack to a sex toy.

But overall, you’re not the one with special surprises for him. So this catches his attention. 

You can tell the moment when the hand Haechan drops into his lap frees his cock. You can tell by the ease of his shoulders, the quick flicker in his eyes when he glances around at the surrounding tables. He’s tucked up beneath the table cloth, but you’re sure he’s wondering if they can still tell what he’s doing. This is more exposure than Haechan is used to. Typically it’s you exposing yourself while Haechan watches or touches. The roles are reversed this morning, and you can’t even see him touching himself really. But you can see it in his face, you can see the movement in his arm, feel the shuffle of his feet beneath the table as they bump against yours in an effort to maybe hide his actions even more beneath the table, and you can hear the way his breathing changes as he strokes his cock with one hand while attempting to maintain a semblance of normalcy by continuing to eat his brunch with the other hand. 

You watch Haechan’s expression, noting the way that he’s quickly edging up to his breaking point. He drops his fork to his plate, lifting his hand instead into a fist in front of his mouth. His eyes snag on yours, telling you without words that he’s about to cum. 

Your elbow knocks into your own plate, dislodging your utensils. The knife falls to the floor, and before Haechan has time to react, you drop to the floor. Your fingertips bump against the knife, pushing it deeper under the table, and you sink beneath the table cloth on your hands and knees. And come face to face with exactly what you’d hoped to see. 

Haechan’s hand looks beautiful as he pumps his pink-tipped erection. 

To his credit, Haechan only barely flinches when you lean in, lifting a hand to take over from his, and you put your mouth right over his tip to suck. Just a couple pumps of your hand along his length, and Haechan cums, spilling on your tongue. 

You’re a good girl, as he tells you all the time, so you swallow it all down.  

You even tuck his cock away again before grabbing the knife from the floor and climbing out from under the table into your seat. 

And that’s when you notice the suited older man watching you. Haechan spots him too. You both know you’re caught, and Haechan immediately blushes with embarrassment. 

It’s when the man doesn’t look away that the blush fades from Haechan’s cheeks, and instead anger begins to paint his expression. By that point you’re sitting fully back in your seat, your back to the man, and the pair of you are waiting for the waitress to come back after you’ve given her Haechan’s card to pay. But it’s clear in the way that Haechan keeps looking over at the man, with your boyfriend’s expression growing darker and darker, that the man is still looking. 

Haechan is not an overly jealous man – he has admitted to you on more than one occasion that he still sometimes thinks about you with Renjun, even rewatches that video in his phone when he can’t be with you, and it’s not jealousy he feels in those moments but intense arousal – but sometimes he can’t help displaying a bit of jealousy and possessiveness. And that morning is one of those moments. 

The man gets up to leave before the waitress returns with Haechan’s credit card. You watch Haechan’s expression as he looks the man up and down as he approaches your table on his way out, and then to your surprise the man pauses right beside you. 

You’re tense. Haechan looks ready to spring. 

The man slides some cash onto the table right in front of you. And then he touches your shoulder, saying in a greasy tone, “For the show, darling.”

Haechan shoves angrily back from the table, but his face is impassive as he reaches over and calmly removes the man’s hand from your shoulder. “Don’t touch her.”

The man snorts derisively. 

The waitress obliviously slides Haechan’s card back onto the table and bustles off to one of her other tables. You grab the card, grab the cash the man slipped you, and you stand up. 

“For the record,” you tell the man, “I’m not a whore, but I will take your fucking money.”

You pocket Haechan’s card and the man’s cash, step clear around the man, and take Haechan’s hand. 

You leave the cafe quickly, hoping to get clear away from the man. This is of course a risk of doing anything sexual in public — getting caught by a pervert. It was one thing when the pervert you hoped to be caught by was Haechan, but a perfect stranger who feels entitled to come up and speak to you? To touch you? To pay you as if you’re a common whore?

Haechan fumes beside you the whole walk back to where you parked your car. And as soon as you’re alone behind the cover of your car’s tinted windows, he reaches over the center console and cups your face in both of his hands, dragging you into a ferociously possessive kiss. 

You lay off the exhibitionism for a short time after that. You take the time to truly savor having each other in the privacy of your bedroom or his. You kinda chill it on the crazy sexual hormones then for a bit as you slip out of the honeymoon phase of your relationship where everything still feels brand new and exciting and you’re both constantly horny for each other. Instead, you focus a little more on work to aim for a promotion that Taeil has been hinting someone will be receiving. And when that time arrives, and the promised promotion is given to you over everyone else, you celebrate with Haechan. 

You take him out to dinner somewhere nice where the two of you gorge yourselves with delicious, rich food and sweet wine. For dessert, you feast on each other at home in your apartment, savoring each last bit of each other until you collapse in a tangled heap of sweaty limbs in your bedsheets. 

You don’t leave bed the next morning, just pick up where you left off the night before. You forget everything that morning except for the taste of Haechan’s skin, the feel of him inside you, the sound of his breath and his moans and your name from his tongue. 

Both of you are still deeply caught up in each other, though in a more gentle and intimate fashion as he holds you against his chest beneath the covers, rolling his hips forward while he buries his face in your hair. 

To anyone who might happen upon the scene, it could maybe almost look like you’re just spooning while oversleeping late into the morning. 

Or at least that’s what you hope it looks like when your family surprises you by dropping in for a somewhat unannounced visit. 

Truthfully, you’d just forgotten that you had plans with them that day, that they were in the city to visit with you. You’d thought any plans you had would be much later in the day, but also you had certainly lost track of time all tangled up with Haechan. 

So when your bedroom door suddenly opens and you look up into the faces of your parents and one sibling, you pray to every god that anyone has ever believed in that your family members don’t realize that Haechan is currently balls-deep inside you. 

It’s your dad that reacts first. 

He laughs and then backs out of the room, pushing your sibling behind him, pulling your mom along too. The door closes. 

“Fucking shit. Oh my god. Haechan….” You make a valiant attempt at suffocating yourself in your pillow. 

Haechan laughs a little, although the sound is halfway between amusement and awkwardness. He pulls out of you, rolling over to the edge of your bed. He starts getting dressed, but you don't move until Haechan slides back in bed with you, his hand stroking along your spine. 

“Let’s go face your family.” He whispers, placing a kiss right behind your ear. “Maybe they’ll be so proud of your promotion they’ll forget what they just walked in on.”

Doubtful.

“I can’t go out there,” you groan into the pillow. 

Haechan makes a sympathetic noise. “Should I at least go introduce myself?”

You twist around, catching his hands in yours. “No! You can’t go out there either!”

Now he fully laughs at you, dipping down to kiss you briefly. “You’d rather we stay in here and they think that we’re still having sex even though they’re sitting in your living room, baby? Come on, get up.”

You get dressed quickly, and you leave the bedroom first. Haechan lingers behind. 

Your family is arrayed on the furniture in the living room, and you curse yourself mentally for ever giving them a copy of the key to your apartment. Your sibling is still laughing, and your parents are silently communicating with each other through a series of facial expressions and direct eye contact. 

Only once you sit down across from them do any of them actually look at you. And a second later when your dad’s eyes slip behind you toward the direction of your bedroom door, you know that Haechan has emerged. 

“This is Haechan,” you announce, “My boyfriend.”

That causes a few raised eyebrows. You’ve mentioned Haechan several times over the years, and within the last couple of months you’ve definitely mentioned that you’re dating someone. You’d just not ever told them that Haechan and your boyfriend were one and the same. 

Haechan comes to sit right beside you, immediately reaching for your hand to hold one in both of his. You try to tuck away a rising smile as you notice the way his fingers are trembling nervously. 

“Hello,” he nods, greeting your family. “Nice to meet you all.”

You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, glancing over at you. Now you really smile at him, unable to hold it back.  Yeah, this is kinda awkward having your family meet him right after they walked in on you together, but with Haechan by your side, you know it’ll be alright. 

And it certainly is. 

Haechan charms them spectacularly. It probably helps that he spends the entire day praising you, boasting to them about how you just received a promotion at the Moon Corporation where you work together. Apparently his constant adoration of you makes the fact that they walked in on you and him this morning okay. How can your parents disapprove when Haechan puts on his best face with them? 

He makes recommendations for a place for all of you to grab dinner later that evening, and he compliments both of your parents and cracks jokes with your sibling, and every chance he gets, he holds your hand or puts his arm around you, looking hopelessly devoted and in love with you. 

He completely wins your family over. 

Later that night after dinner, Haechan goes back to his own apartment. Tonight you’ll be sleeping separately for the first time in weeks, and the thought of that is slightly upsetting, but your family comes back to your apartment with you. 

There’s some maintenance thing that your dad agrees to help you and your roommate with, and she’s better with tools than you are. She’s back at the apartment by that point, so she assists your dad with the project. Your sibling watches, and you and your mom sit in the living room to talk. 

“He’s nice.” Your mom has been quiet for a while when she says that, and after a split second pause, she clarifies, “Haechan. He’s a good boy.”

“He is,” you agree. Nevermind all of his qualities that you’re quite intimate with that would definitely make him fall into a Not Good Boy category if your mom knew about them. 

She smiles. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this with anyone before. Smitten. You’ve always kind of had a look in your eye when you’ve talked about him. Even years ago, when you went away for school, you would FaceTime us and tell us stories about your friends, and you would get this smile on your face when you mentioned him.” She laughs lightly and gestures at your face, “It’s the same smile you’ve had all day when you look at him. Back then I knew it was only a matter of time, but I never thought it would take this long for your little crush to become something more.”

“Trust me,” you sigh, “Neither did I. I was resigned to just being his friend, but then he finally made a move.”

Your mom nods. “How long has it been?”

“A few months.” You can’t believe that the time has passed by so quickly. The first kiss still feels fresh in your mind, the first date like it’s just happened although the temperature has long since turned from the bitter cold it had been that night. 

“You look happy,” she comments, and you notice a shimmer of emotion in her eyes as she says, “I’m so happy for you. He seems really good for you, and even if your dad teases you about him, just know that he really likes him too.”

That blooms a warm feeling in your chest. Not that you need your family’s approval to validate your relationship with Haechan, but it certainly still feels really good to know that they’re happy that you’re happy with him. 

“Just, please,” your mom laughs, “Don’t think I’m rushing you when I say that I would love some cute grandbabies sooner rather than later.”

“Mom!” 

With the pair of you taking a step back from the riskiness of public sex, you decide to instead explore some other interests of yours and his in the safety and privacy of your apartments. 

Haechan wants to try out a bit of consensual non-consent, which here means him surprising you while you’re asleep, doing what he wants to you — light touches to turn you on without waking you up, his fingers buried inside you while he feeds you just the tip of his cock. 

You were intrigued by the idea of being a toy for him, so you agreed on the condition that you wanted to know afterwards what he’d done. 

Haechan filmed it so you could see how he took his time exploring your body, leaving hickeys scattered across your belly. He played with your tits for a while before he started to finger you, and that was when he finally hit the point where he seemingly couldn’t take it any longer, and he just had to feel your lips around his cock. 

You’d woken as soon as he came down your throat, startled awake, coughing and gagging on the taste of it. 

You’d returned the favor a few days later, curious about what it was like to play with someone sleeping. 

Haechan had stayed out late the night before, letting himself into your apartment at half past three. He’d passed out on your bed, and stayed in exactly that position from that moment until even after you woke around eight o’clock. 

He was unaware of the world around him, and when you knelt on the floor beside his side of your bed, he’d not even twitched as you pulled away the covers to free his dick to your access. You kissed his thighs and hips, stroked your fingers along his inner thighs. 

And then you’d given him your mouth. Kisses along his cock from balls to tip. You’d used your hand to touch him too while you moved your mouth to his chest to tease his nipples. Haechan’s cock swelled in your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel powerful to have him reacting to you like this even while he was asleep. 

Is this how he felt when he did this to you?

You blew him, pausing when he would move or when he would make noise. You didn’t want him to wake up yet, you wanted to savor this opportunity to do what you pleased with him. Such as when you got him flat on his back, you kneeling between his legs, your tongue tasting the salty precum at his slit, and you’d slipped a wet finger down to just glide over his asshole. 

Haechan had moaned, loud enough that you thought he’d woken. But a moment later he’d settled again, and once you were satisfied with how hard he was, you dug a condom out from beneath your bed, and you climbed up to straddle his cock. You put the condom on him before you sunk down on Haechan’s cock, and you were glad you’d thought of the condom. 

The moment that Haechan registered the weight and warmth and tightness of your pussy swallowing his cock, he woke up. His hands grasped at your hips, he thrust up into you, impaling you on his cock. He made it clear that your moment of being in charge had passed. 

Quite literally, Haechan flipped things around. 

Your shoulders hit the mattress, and he fucked you as if he hadn’t been asleep just moments before. Haechan fucked you while he scolded you for being a slut, for having fun with him while he slept, degrading you which only excited you more. 

In the end, it turns out that you both kinda like that sort of sleepy sex. 

You explore angry, hateful sex, too. 

Your first big argument comes in late April at Jeno’s birthday party. You and Haechan turn heads with the ferocity of your argument, but fifteen minutes later, you’re fucking Haechan in the bathroom, riding him on the toilet until he picks you up, spins you around, and fucks you against the bathroom wall. He’s rough in exactly the way you wanted him to be when you angrily dragged him in here, when you attacked him with biting kisses. 

He leaves bruises at your hips, yanking at your hair, he even closes a hand around your throat, applying pressure just perfectly to make your body thrill with excitement, your orgasm overtaking you. You like it a little rough and angry, the way that he bites and pulls and grabs in the moment, followed by tender kisses and apologies, a warm embrace and a conversation about how to resolve whatever your argument has been about. 

You explore the properly dirty type of sex, too. 

On the most brutal day of your period, you’re absolutely miserable. Cramps and a headache, emotional and horny and hungry. All the worst of your symptoms it seems are rolled into this one day. 

But Haechan is the best. 

When you’re laid up at his apartment in his bed, he gets up to grab snacks to satisfy your hunger. He gets a heating pad to help your cramps, a cold compress for your headache. There’s not much he can do to help ease the annoying mood swings you’re dealing with, but the horniness….

“I don’t mind,” Haechan tells you when you whine about how what you’re craving isn’t the snack he just brought you but rather an orgasm. “I can help you with that, babe.”

You move the cold compress away from where you had it covering your eyes. “Don’t be gross, Donghyuck.”

He makes a face at the sound of his full name. “It’s not gross,” he argues. “I’m not gonna eat you out, but I don’t see why I can’t help you cum if you think it’ll make you feel better. We have a variety of options.” He holds up his hand, ticking the options off as he lists them. “You can just dry hump me, ride my thigh. I could just use my fingers. I could get one of your toys. I could just fuck you; I don’t mind getting a little messy.” 

You just stare at him for a moment, dealing with an internal conflict of giving in to your base desires and letting Haechan get you off, or you could save yourself the embarrassment of Haechan getting disgusted the moment that your pants are off. 

“Please?” Haechan asks, “You know I love you. I just want to make you feel good.”

“And this has absolutely nothing to do with how horny you were complaining you were yesterday before I told you I’d started my period?” 

Haechan’s grin grows. “I didn’t say I was offering for only your benefit, angel.”

“Go grab a towel at least.” You roll your eyes a little, but inside your heart is racing with excitement. In the past, the guys you’ve been with have all been utterly disgusted by your period, bummed out that they wouldn’t be having sex with you for a week because period sex would be too gross. You’ve never had a guy be as attentive to you during your period as Haechan has been over these months you’ve been together, and certainly none of them have ever been as interested in having period sex as he is. But you shouldn’t be too surprised. He’s a pervert, enjoying these things others often find off-putting. 

When Haechan returns with a towel, you rearrange so you’re lying on top of the towel. 

“What would you like?” Haechan asks, kneeling there patiently. “Which of the options?”

You roll your eyes at him again. “Just come kiss me, then I’ll decide.”

Haechan lets you take control. He sinks in against your side as you curl an arm behind his head, drawing him in deeper for your kiss. He drapes an arm over your belly while you lift a leg to curl it over his hip. The two of you tangle yourselves together, sinking into the kiss and into each others’ bodies. You play with Haechan’s hair as you kiss him, languid kisses tasting sweet and syrupy, building the heat between you. You can feel him growing hard against you, you can feel your heartbeat throbbing between your legs as your arousal grows. And when you’ve finally reached the point where you can’t just lie still anymore, you start rocking your hips. 

With your leg slung over Haechan’s side, his thigh is bent forward between your legs, and when you rock your hips, you’re rocking right against his strong thigh. 

You sigh into the kiss, and Haechan smiles. 

“Does it feel good?” He kisses the corner of your mouth, and when you nod, he says, “Keep going.”

And you do. Your body moves on autopilot, like you’re starved and insatiable, just taking what you need, what your body desperately craves. You hump Haechan’s thigh as he sponges kisses along your jaw, as he murmurs praises and encouragements. “That’s a good girl,” he breathes against your ear, and, “Just like that, angel.”

Haechan lets you take what you need, and when the sweet friction from humping his thigh carries you over the edge with a cry, he drops his hands to your hip and keeps you moving until you’re whining from sensitivity, but you’re still not finished. 

“More,” you beg, twisting your fingers in the front of his shirt. There are tears burning from the corners of your eyes as you keep grinding against Haechan’s thigh, but it’s not enough. You still need more. 

“I can give you more.” Haechan rolls you over flat onto your back, and he pulls away from you which is the exact opposite of what you were asking for. He reaches down and pulls his shirt over his head, and then he reaches for the waistband of the sweatpants you’re wearing, and when you lift your hips, he drags them down your legs. The tank top you’re wearing is next; Haechan draws it over your head, tossing it aside in the same moment that he kisses you again. His hands rise to your bare tits, drawing a new whine of sensitivity from you. 

“Careful,” you moan. “They’re sore.”

“Sorry, baby,” Haechan apologizes, lowering his head to place a kiss over each nipple. And then a little kitten-lick to one, his lips and tongue warm and soft against your sensitive nipples, his hand gentle and warm on the other breast. 

Your tits are so sensitive it doesn’t take long for your heart to be thundering, your body pulsing with hot need, your chest arching against Haechan’s lips. 

All it takes is a desperate whine and your hand lightly pressing against the top of his head for Haechan to leave your tits and start mouthing his way down over your ribs and your belly. And then he reaches for your panties to remove them. 

“Wait,” you exhale, grappling for his wrist. 

Haechan freezes, face hovering above your belly, his fingers tucked into the elastic of your panties ready to pull them down. He looks up at you. 

“You don’t have to do this,” you reassure him. You don’t want him to feel like he has to have sex with you just because you’re horny right now. You’re gonna be a mess down there. 

Haechan just smiles. “You’re not making me do anything I don’t want to do. This isn’t gross, which I know you’re worried about. It’s hot. I promise.”

You let your fingers go loose around his wrist, but Haechan waits until you nod, until you murmur, “Keep going,” for him to move again. He pulls your panties down, and you wish you could say that it was super weird and uncomfortable to have your boyfriend’s hand between your thighs removing your hygiene product. It should feel awkward as Haechan does that, but looking down at his face as he looks up at you while smoothly doing just that, you’re just lost in the moment. 

Haechan climbs off the bed for a moment, walking over to the en-suite bathroom. You don’t even want to think about the fact that he’s going in there to dispose of your used sanitary product, because if you think about that for even a second you’ll be too embarrassed. So you think about the sound of Haechan rummaging around in the bathroom for a moment, and when he comes back, he’s brought a condom with him. 

“For a little more ease of cleanup,” he explains. “I don’t want to have to clean period blood off my dick. No offense.” He’s teasing, but you groan and cover your face with your hands. Haechan laughs, reaching for your wrists to pry your hands away. “I’m only joking, babe. Do you still want to keep going?”

Of course you do. You’re a bit embarrassed, but more than that, you’re still incredibly horny. 

“Yes, I want to keep going.” 

You eagerly pull Haechan back between your legs, barely waiting for him to stop and roll the condom down his length. But then he’s there, and he’s sinking into you, and you forget everything else. You forget your headache, your cramps, your hunger. You forget every mood other than just this — the arousal, the love, the endless need to just have Haechan. 

You can’t even say that it’s weird or all that different to be having sex while on your period. Haechan doesn’t make it weird, so it’s not weird. And even if there is some slight discomfort for a moment, it goes away, quickly overcome because of Haechan’s hard-earned knowledge of what you like. Sure, it’s a little messy, and you’re glad you put the towel down, but it’s not the massacre you’d been imagining. It’s as wonderful as you could’ve hoped for. 

“See, no problem,” Haechan had told you afterward. 

You continue exploring kinks and fetishes, trying things out, falling deeper in love with Haechan, in awe of this pervert who loves you and you love in return. 

You never have to question if you love him. It’s just something innate, something you know as well as if it were just always a part of you, just built into your DNA. And you know he loves you too. Haechan doesn’t miss any opportunity to tell you so, not since the first time you said it to each other. You don’t question it. 

As spring begins to bridge into summer in May, there are questions. 

Your lease on your apartment is about up. Haechan’s is up at the end of June. So the question of moving in together properly comes up. And with that comes more talking, discussing, theorizing and dreaming and just lots and lots of future-talk. Talks about wants and desires. 

One day during May, you’re shopping together, looking for new clothes to wear on the trip you’ve planned to take with your friends in July. The shopping center you’re in is busy, full of other couples, of young families. The shops all have vibrant, summery displays and bold signage announcing sales.

You pass by a nice menswear shop, their window display showcasing a stunning tuxedo and a row of groomsmen in dapper suits.  

“I want to get married,” Haechan says casually as you pass the shop together. “I’ve always thought that I can’t wait to be a husband and a father someday. I’ve never given too much thought to the actual details, honestly, like the wedding or any of that. But being a husband, having a family, being a dad…” He smiles brightly, then says, “I want to raise a kid who knows that I’ll always be there for them, love and support them unconditionally. What about you?”

You’ve talked about kids with Haechan before. In vague terms. Like when you would be out together and see a baby or little kid, commenting on the kid being adorable, laughing at their behavior. When a coworker had a baby and she brought it into the office to visit, you’d both taken turns holding the baby and talked about it later. 

But you’ve never really talked about wanting kids. More specifically, you’ve never really talked about wanting to have kids together. 

You certainly never told him about your mom’s comment from just after they first met him, the comment about wanting cute grandbabies from you and him. It’s a comment she’s reiterated a few more times to you since then.

Haechan is looking at you, waiting for you to say something. 

“I think most girls dream of their wedding, a spouse, a family. I used to look up wedding dresses online when I was still far too small to even know what kind of dress I could fit into someday. I would picture my celebrity crushes waiting for me at the end of the aisle, flower petals cascading from the sky.” You laugh, and Haechan smiles right along with you. “I used to think up lists of baby names and imagine what it would be like to hold a little life in my arms that I’d created.”

You wonder if Haechan notices all the past tense in the way you’re speaking. The hesitance when you speak of children. 

Babies used to be something you were once so certain of. When you were young, before your eyes had been entirely opened to the world, it wasn’t something you ever thought twice about. Of course you would someday have babies. Why wouldn’t you?

But growing up meant seeing things from different perspectives, having realities laid out before you. Some people couldn’t have babies, some people chose not to have them. Sometimes terrible things happen. Sometimes pregnancy can feel alienating. You’d heard of childbirth as a blessing and a curse from friends, coworkers, acquaintances over the years, and as time passed, as you moved through your life and reached the point in time in which having a child would be appropriate, you still weren’t sure what you wanted. 

Did you hope to become a mom? Did you want to carry a child if you could? Having a child in your life, especially with the right person beside you was an obvious yes, but sometimes you weren’t entirely sure if carrying a child was the right option for you; maybe you would give birth someday, maybe you would adopt, or maybe it just wasn’t in the cards for you.

Right then, with Haechan still looking at you, you only know that you want him. 

Always. 

Everything else can wait. 

“I don’t mean any of this right now, by the way,” Haechan clarifies a few moments later. “Just… putting it out there.”

And you felt the usual sunshine-warm glow in your chest, thinking that this conversation was a good sign. These future talks you’d been having were a good sign. 

The thought of getting married to Haechan makes you giddy. Is he thinking of marrying you too? Is he making plans, and that’s why he’d mentioned it?

You wrap yourself in that warm feeling and let it carry you through the next few days. 

Work is busy throughout the month of May. So busy that you don’t get to see much of Haechan inside or outside of work. You have to travel abroad for research purposes, and the distance makes your heart ache. You hate being apart from Haechan, hate that you’re stuck in another country with only Johnny as a companion for two weeks in the middle of the month.

Long distance isn’t really anything you’ve had to try before, but you try to make it work. You call Haechan, he calls you; you exchange messages as often as you can. But there’s a time difference, which means that he’s often asleep while you’re awake, or you’re bogged down with work when he’s free. 

“I miss you,” you sigh over the phone late one night once you’re tucked back in your hotel room for the night. 

It’s eleven o’clock at night in London where you are, but it’s early back in Seoul, and you know your call probably woke Haechan up. He just mumbles something sleepily into the phone.

“I’m back at the end of the week.” You fight back a yawn. “I’m thinking of taking the week of your birthday off, honestly, because I’m sick of seeing Johnny’s face.”

That at least draws a little laugh from Haechan. “I’m already taking that week off,” he murmurs, “Take it off with me.” 

“Should I?” 

Haechan hums a small sound of agreement.

“If I do take it off, what should we do? Should we take a trip together? Get out of the city for the week?” You cradle the phone against your cheek, trying your best to not look at the time displayed on the clock sitting on the bedside table. You have to be awake in a few hours for a breakfast business meeting, but you want to have a moment with Haechan. 

Haechan is quiet for a few seconds too long, and you wonder if he’s fallen back asleep. 

“Hyuck?” You keep your voice soft, just in case. 

“Uh, I’m not sure about any plans yet.” He clears his throat. “I don’t…. I don’t know. Listen, I’ve gotta go. I just realized the time and remembered that I’m supposed to head into the office early today.”

Abruptly, he ends the call. 

Weird. 

You try not to dwell on it too much as you settle in to sleep. You try not to let the memory of it bother you in the morning, or throughout the rest of the day. But it’s difficult to brush off the weirdness of Haechan’s behavior ending that phone call when his behavior over the last few days of your business trip is weird too. Long gaps between responses to your messages, excuses to not answer your phone calls. 

And finally, at the end of the week, you and Johnny fly back to Seoul. 

Haechan picks you up from the airport, sitting there waiting in a pick-up zone. He waves at Johnny cheerily enough as your coworker heads off for his own pick-up. He kisses you like he’s never missed anyone more, and he holds your hand the entire drive back to your apartment, listening to you chatter about the two weeks you were gone in Dubai. 

“Oh, and Taeil approved my days off!” As he pulls in to park, the words fall out of you excitedly, and you squeeze his hand. “So whatever you want to do for your birthday, babe, let’s do it!”

Haechan’s fingers wiggle against yours. He looks around, checking his mirrors as if to make sure that he’s within the lines. “That’s good, baby,” is all he says. His eyes dart towards yours and then away again, and he withdraws his hand from yours to turn the car off. 

Odd. 

You continue to try not to let it bother you. 

You try to ignore it, to just pretend like Haechan isn’t acting distant over the next few days. You tell yourself that it’s just the stress of work because in this interim week between your trip and his birthday week, Haechan has several important meetings and three separate project deadlines. Obviously, that is where the majority of his focus is all week, and that’s why when you ask him to come look at a new apartment availability with you, he tells you that he can’t. 

You look forward to Thursday. His heavy workload — the last big meeting and project presentation of his falls on Thursday, so he should feel that relief and hopefully get over this strange distance that has grown between you this week. 

After Thursday, it’s just Friday, which should be smooth sailing right into the weekend, and then, luckily, it will be Haechan’s birthday week, the exact day landing on Tuesday. You’re ready to spend the week with him, to give him a birthday to remember. 

Thursday evening as you finish up in the office, you make up your mind to go over to Haechan’s tonight. 

You’re going to pick up some food on your way. You’re going to shower and steal some of his comfiest clothes (although you do have a decent amount of your own clothes stored at his apartment) and eat together while you watch a drama. You’re going to start this weekend a little early with relaxation tonight, and you’ll take it easy tomorrow. 

He’s already home by the time you’re leaving the office (a call with the team in Dubai meant hanging around the office a little bit later than you’d have really liked), and when you arrive at Haechan and YangYang’s apartment, he’s in his bedroom, playing games online. 

Haechan offers up his cheek for you to kiss, hums an acknowledgement when you mention that you brought dinner but you want to shower first, and then you notice the way his eyes keep darting away from the game he’s playing to follow you around his bedroom as you strip on your way to the bathroom that’s not even connected to his bedroom. 

And several minutes later when you return, he’s done playing the game, but he’s still sitting in the desk chair, on his phone. 

Again, you notice his eyes following you as you move around. You notice the way his lips part when you drop the towel you’d had wrapped around you, the way he can’t look away as you stride around fully naked towards his closet. He watches you sort through his T-shirts and find one you like. Haechan makes a small throat-clearing noise when you bury your nose in the fabric, breathing in the smell of him before you pull the shirt on over your head. 

He sucks in a breath through his teeth when you bend over, flashing him your ass beneath the shirt. You’re maybe doing this bit on purpose, stepping slowly into your panties, sliding them up your legs, all while bent over and showing off your ass and pussy to him. 

But when you straighten up and look back at him, Haechan looks away, back down to his phone. 

His phone seems to hold a lot of his attention, you notice as the night continues. 

You sit out in the living room together on the sofa, eating the food you’d brought, watching a drama together. Or rather, you’re watching the drama while Haechan looks at his phone with an empty sofa cushion between you. 

It feels like miles of blank space. 

And you can’t pretend anymore that you’re not bothered. 

Usually Haechan would be the first one to close that gap, unable to resist touching you. He would usually have to have a hand on your bare thigh or his arm around your shoulders to brush his fingers up and down your upper arm. He would have to pull you into his side or against his chest or drag you down so you’re both lying down with him spooning you from behind. 

But tonight. 

It’s you, him, and his phone. 

You sigh loud enough it should’ve caught his attention. 

He taps his fingers against the back of his phone, glances up at the drama playing, and then looks right back to his phone. 

The longer this goes on, the more you feel like he’s just avoiding you. The more you begin to think that maybe the distance between you this last week and a half hasn’t solely been because of work. But what is it? Is there something on his mind that he just isn’t telling you? His silent distance, specifically his distraction with his phone, bothers you more and more the longer it goes on. One episode ends and a new one begins, and Haechan is still looking at his phone, still ignoring the heavy way you sigh in a subtle grab for his attention. 

You begin reading into the silence, seeking answers, seeking attention. 

So you do the one thing you know will grab Haechan’s attention and hold it. 

Sex. 

Haechan is slouched down on the opposite end of the sofa from you, his head propped up on a throw pillow against the arm of the sofa. His phone still holds his attention, but as you climb forward, climbing up the length of his legs, Haechan looks up at you. 

At last. 

“What’re you doing?” His smile grows slowly. 

“I think it’s pretty clear,” you tell him, coming up to straddle his hips, sitting down right in his lap. You slide your hands up his chest. “I had my dinner, now I want dessert. I want you, Haechan.”

Haechan tsks at you. His phone calls to the side, forgotten on the cushion at his shoulder. 

“Always horny, aren’t you, my love? What am I to do with you? Just give you what you want?” As he says it, Haechan reaches for your thighs, smoothly dragging you from your spot in his lap now up his chest while he slides even lower to be lying flat on his back. “Baby, maybe I want a taste of my dessert,” he croons, his hands making quick work of pushing up the oversized shirt of his that you’re wearing. 

His hands are on your chest before you can get a word out. His fingers tease your nipples, palms warm against the softness of your breasts. 

His phone vibrates at your knee. Once, twice, a third time. 

Haechan is finally distracted by you and doesn’t seem to notice the notifications lighting up his phone screen. But you do. Who is texting him?

You risk a glance towards the illuminated screen, and see a cluster of message notifications. For a split second, your heart does a weird flippy floppy act, and then you read the name at the top of the notifications: Eomma-ya. 

His mom. 

Another one comes in, but you can’t read the messages themselves, and at this point you don’t need to. It’s not any of your business, and you relax, letting some of the tension ease out of you, your body reacting eagerly to Haechan’s touches now that your worries have been somewhat assuaged in knowing that it’s just his mom that he’s been messaging. 

Haechan, all of his focus on you now, pinches one of your nipples in a way that sends a jolt of lusty heat right down to your core. 

You whimper quietly, just “Haechan” before all words melt on your tongue when Haechan drags your panties to the side and starts touching you. His fingers tease along your slit, never giving you quite what you want. He keeps it going until you’re dripping, arousal clinging to his fingers, a few drops leaking down to dampen the front of his shirt. And all the while he’s doing this, Haechan watches you with this amused, almost predatory look. 

He watches and waits until he can see that you’re right there on the edge of cumming, and he withdraws his hand. He waits a few moments while you whine and squirm on top of him, and then his fingers are back, drawing intense circles on your clit, edging you right back to where you were before but then he backs off again. Several times he does this until you’re actually starting to get pissed off, but then instead of pulling his hands away from you, he slides down fully onto his back on the sofa, and Haechan drags you up until you’re straddling his face. 

“Go on, baby. Take what you want.” Haechan licks his lips as he says it, and then he leaves his mouth parted, pink tongue laying against his plush lips. 

There’s only one thing you want in that moment and it’s to sit on his face and ride his tongue until your body goes numb from the overstimulation of orgasming. You want to cry his name, to squirt on his tongue, to leave your taste in his mouth for days.

Haechan moans when you sit on him, his arms wrap around you, holding you against his mouth as he eats you out, as you ride his tongue. 

You alternate between tugging at Haechan’s hair (which only makes him moan exaggeratedly against your pussy) or clenching your hands in the shirt you’re wearing. Occasionally, you’ll look down and find Haechan already watching you, his dark eyes drinking in the awed look of pleasure on your face, or staring at your tits if you’ve got your shirt lifted that high. All you know is you feel high, electric, like your body and the entire world are just static, and each stroke of Haechan’s tongue is a shock to your system in the best way. 

Your first orgasm feels weak, just a pulse of sweetness, barely enough for you to really feel before Haechan is doubling down, hands gripping your thighs to pull you down more heavily onto his face. Like he wants you to just suffocate him like this. 

He doesn’t slow down at all, moaning against you as the taste of you continues to leak across his tongue, and you can’t help yourself as you essentially fuck his face, rocking your hips to feel his nose against your clit and his tongue buried deep inside you. 

He’s moaning and you’re moaning, and it’s no wonder that neither of you hear the door to his apartment open until it’s too late, until YangYang is standing there in the door just staring at you losing control of yourself as another orgasm — this one so much more intense and fantastic — crashes through you. 

He watches, and you notice him, but you decide not to pay him any attention. He can stay or he can leave, it really doesn’t bother you either way. 

Haechan’s fingers only slightly loosen the tight hold on your thighs as he licks you through your orgasm. His cheeks are sticky against your thighs, lips sliding against your labia from where you’d squirted. You easily slide backwards, collapsing to sit on his belly. You let your shirt fall down to cover your panties again, and you push your fingers into Haechan’s hair, lower your head to his, and you kiss him, not caring about the mess you’d made on his face. You can taste yourself, but you don’t care, and besides, it seems like Haechan likes that. 

Somewhere, YangYang clears his throat. 

“Stay or leave, dude,” Haechan mumbles against your lips, the words just loud enough for YangYang to hear. “We’re not stopping.”

You don’t know what decision YangYang makes. You don’t hear anything to indicate one choice or the other, and you don’t look around the room either. You just sink against Haechan, sucking on his tongue, at his bottom lip, using your tongue to clean the taste of yourself from his chin. 

Haechan twists you beneath him so he’s on top, pressing you into the sofa, and he peels your shirt off, tossing it over the back of the sofa, and then he has unrestricted access to your chest. Haechan attacks your tits with lips and teeth, his hands giving attention where his mouth doesn’t. 

It’s all a hot blur of lips and skin and teeth and high heat when Haechan’s pants disappear between one breath and the next, your bodies colliding, and his cock filling you smoothly and perfectly. You clutch at his shoulders and bite at his neck while he fits into you, and you arch against him, trying to pull him closer, wanting him to smother you now between the somewhat rough material of the sofa and the smooth press of his skin. 

At one point, he pulls away from you, and you sit up to follow, letting him manhandle you around onto your knees, facing the arm of the sofa as he fits himself against you from behind. He grips your arms up by your shoulders, and the way Haechan thrusts into you is so deep and rough that your teeth clack together and tears burn in your eyes, but you love it. You love the raw passion as he fucks you, and the way that he soon wraps his arms around you, drawing your back to his chest as he rolls his hips forward, dragging his cock in this gliding motion inside you, a slow, smooth pull in your belly that has you cumming again. 

Haechan mouths at your throat while your walls pulse around his cock. You can feel sweat clinging to your skin, both from yourself and from him. His tongue drags up the line of your throat, from the base all the way up to just beneath your ear. 

When Haechan takes your earlobe between his teeth, a pathetic sound spills out of you, one that you’re not even sure where it came from because you’ve never heard that sound before. 

“He’s still watching,” Haechan whispers, his words right against your ear. “YangYang pretended like he just went to his room, but the door is still cracked open, and he probably doesn’t know that I can see his shadow pressed up against the door, watching.”

Your eyes flash open, shooting a look right towards YangYang’s door. It does stand partially ajar, but you couldn’t say if YangYang is standing there or not. He could just be making it up for your benefit, knowing how much you love the idea of being watched, how long it’s been since the two of you did something even slightly exhibitionist.   

One of Haechan’s hands slides up to your throat, his skin burning against yours as he applies the perfect amount of pressure. “I don’t care if he watches,” Haechan growls, “Just so long as he knows who you belong to. Just as long as he knows this is just a pretty show, a one time ticket to view. Because whose are you, angel?”

His hand releases a little, and you breathe in deeply, more than happy to profess, “I’m yours,” with a sigh. 

“Good girl.” Haechan brushes a kiss to your cheek. “Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Haechan.” 

He lets you fall forward. Your ass is still lifted, but your cheek rests against the arm of the sofa as Haechan keeps thrusting forward, and you can feel yet another orgasm building inside you, the heat swelling in your belly as a tingling sensation spreads. 

“That’s right, baby. We were made for each other. You’re mine.” He rolls his hips forward, grinding his cock in deep, a hand flat on your tailbone. “Fuck, say it for me?”

“I’m yours,” you whimper, already feeling the druglike pull of your orgasm as your vision whites out. 

Haechan keeps moving, his movements speeding up as he races to follow you to his orgasm, and as soon as you realize that, a bolt of panic passes through you. 

You lift onto your elbows. “Pull out! Pull out,” you moan, pulling yourself forward off his cock even as Haechan jerks backwards. 

Your pussy clenches uselessly around nothing as Haechan’s cock leaves you, but a second later you feel the warm streaks of his cum paint your lower back, his moans accompanying the sensation. 

Haechan falls over you, his weight only there for a moment before he’s shifting onto his side, his arms wrapped around you to pull you back against him. From this position, you have a clear look at YangYang’s door again. Now, it’s clearly shut. 

“God, I’m glad we did that,” you sigh, “I was tired of you ignoring me for your phone. What was so interesting anyway?” You ask with a laugh, trying to keep it sounding lighthearted as you reach up to push your fingers into Haechan’s hair. 

He tucks his face between your neck and your shoulder, humming a noncommittal sound. He just holds you like that for a little while until you swear it feels like your heartbeats and your breathing have synced with each other. It’s only after several minutes that he lifts his face from your neck. 

“I’m going to tell you something, and I don’t want you to be angry,” he says. 

Already, not off to a great start. 

You tense up, holding your breath. A feeling like an ice cold rod sets itself rigid down your spine. Why does he sound so serious? He was just texting his mom; you saw the new messages coming in from her, so what about that could make you angry? What is he going to say?

Haechan sighs, lowering his chin to rest on the curve of your shoulder. “I’m going home for a bit, a few days,” Haechan tells you, “To Jeju. My mom still lives there, and she wants me to come visit for my birthday this weekend.”

You almost let out a sigh of relief. You know that he can probably see the way that you actually relax, shoulders sinking down now with ease into the cushions. He’s just going to go visit his family for his birthday, and it’s probably about time. He’s told you about them, and you know he hadn’t seen them in a while. 

It’s a good thing. 

“Why would I be angry about that?” You lift a hand up to touch his hair as he lowers his mouth against your shoulder. 

Of course, you wanted to spend his birthday with him. His first birthday while you’ve been together like this, but if he was going out of town and just wanted to spend time with his family, you understand. 

“You took the week off,” Haechan says slowly. “You took it off at least in part because it’s my birthday. You wanted to make plans, but now my mom wants to decide on some different plans.” 

You nod, wondering if that was all he had to say. That’s nothing big. Is this why he’s been distant since last week when you mentioned making plans for his birthday week? Had he already known that his mom wanted him to visit? Was he worried you were going to be upset that he’s going to Jeju? Or maybe he’s wanting to ask you to come along, to finally meet his family? The fact that he’s not saying anything, although you can almost hear his mind silently buzzing with unspoken words, reinforces your theory a bit. 

But if he’s not going to ask then you will. 

“When do I finally get to meet your family anyway?” You twist around to face him, trailing your fingers up his chest. 

Haechan grabs your hand, pulling it away from where you reached his face. He clears his throat and looks over your shoulder into the middle-distance. 

“What?” You laugh, twirling your fingers with his. 

Haechan clears his throat again. Opens his mouth. Closes it. He mumbles, “I’m going to tell you something else. Please don’t be angry.”

The fact that he’s repeating that plea doesn’t bode well at all. 

“Donghyuck?” An uncomfortable weight begins to settle through your belly. What’s his deal right now?

Silence for a beat. 

He swallows hard. 

“I haven’t told my family about you. That we’re… together. They don’t know I’m seeing anyone at all,” he blurts. And then as an afterthought, he tacks on, “Like I said, please don’t be angry.”

Don’t be angry. 

Are you angry?

The feelings flooding through you don’t quite feel like anger — not that bright, burning bite of emotion — but something heavier and deeper, something that slides through your veins like an oil slick. 

What does he mean he hasn’t told them about you? That they don’t know that you’re…. Together. And the way he’d hesitated when he said that?! What does that mean? 

He’s your boyfriend! So what was with the hesitation?

You’re almost living together. Spending pretty much every single night together at one apartment or the other, with plans to find an apartment — and now you remember him backing out of the apartment viewing you’d found the other day — and move in together. He’s met your family, who adore him. You’ve talked about the future: marriage, family, kids, and dreams. 

You’re in love with him and he often tells you he loves you, too. 

But Haechan hasn’t even mentioned your relationship to his family. 

You can’t believe it. 

You draw yourself away from him, lifting yourself off the sofa. 

“Are you mad?” Haechan asks again. You feel his fingertips brush against your tailbone. 

“Am I mad? Are you fucking kidding, Haechan?” Ah, there you can feel a bit of anger flickering to life in your sternum, catching at the tail ends of your words. 

Haechan can’t even look you in the eye as you stand above him. 

“You haven’t told them about me? Can I ask why?” You’re trying to tame the anger in your voice, to keep that fiery heat from swelling inside you to an inferno, but it’s not working. “Is it because of me? You don’t actually want to be with me?”

“That’s stupid, of course that’s not it!” Haechan stares up at you, shock in his eyes before he looks away again, down at his hands. “I haven’t told them about you, about us, because I don’t want them to judge.”

And that only incenses you further. 

The sound that leaves you is anger, frustration, and hurt all blended into one. A scream and a shout, a cry as you search the floor for the shirt of his you’d borrowed earlier. 

You find it halfway tucked beneath the end of the sofa, and you snatch it up, drag it on. 

“You don’t want your family to judge me? Fine. I guess it seems that you’ve already decided that they’ll find me lacking.” You know you’re shouting, but you can’t help it. Tears sting at your eyes, burning as the words fly from your mouth. “Fuck you, Lee Donghyuck.”

Behind you, there’s the sound of a door opening, and then YangYang’s voice asking, “What’s going on?”

You snort, spinning around to head for Haechan’s room, leaving him and YangYang behind in the living room. You can hear them speaking as you dig around in Haechan’s room for a clean pair of pants for you to wear. 

When you walk back out a moment later, your bag on your shoulder, both of the men turn to look at you. 

“Where are you going?” Haechan asks. 

“I’m fucking leaving.” You stride past him. 

“Fuck, Haechan,” YangYang groans. “I told you not to fuck things up with her! What the hell did you do?”

Before you reach the door, Haechan calls out your name. You pause, hand reaching for the door handle, waiting, but he doesn’t say anything else, and you don’t turn to look at him. 

You wait, seconds tuck by, and still he remains silent behind you. 

He can’t even ask you to stay? Not even that?

You open the door, and you leave. 

Haechan doesn’t follow. 

Friday morning, you call in sick to work. 

In a way, you are sick. 

You don’t want to see Haechan today, but at the same time you don’t not want to see him either. The two conflicting desires leave your stomach in knots. 

He’s going to leave for Jeju today, spend the whole weekend and his birthday there with his family and not thinking about you. And you already know you’re going to spend the whole week only thinking of him. Maybe you’ll get drunk tonight and tomorrow and Sunday too. Or maybe every day of the week, since you’ve got the whole thing. Maybe you’ll drink until you can forget that Haechan doesn’t love you as much as you thought he did, that he must not actually dream of a future with you even though you’ve both talked about it. 

You spent the whole night crying and choking down a quart of ice cream with your roommate and her partner comforting you. 

You miss Haechan. 

It’s been twelve hours and you miss him because you never argue with him and then don’t immediately make up. You’ve had big fights, but up until last night you’ve always made up shortly after. You’ve lived by the rule of never going to bed angry. 

But last night you were angry and upset when you finally fell asleep, clutching your phone and wondering why he hasn’t called or texted. 

Friday morning ticks by and you mope in bed, glancing at the clock, knowing you should get up, that you should shower and eat. But you can’t. 

You ignore a call from Yuta at work, ignore a couple texts from YangYang. You consider letting your phone just die or putting it on do not disturb, but you can’t deny that you’re really hoping that one time when the phone rings or buzzes with a message notification that it’ll be Haechan. 

He really just let you walk out of there last night. 

He really hasn't told his family about you. 

You roll over and hide your face in your pillow. 

Some time later, a series of buzzes from your phone draws you out of the light doze you sank into. Your heart lifts, and when you check the screen you see….

YangYang.  

What does he want? Why is he calling?

“Mm?” Is all the sound you can muster when you deign to answer the call. 

“Hello?” YangYang says. “Are you there?”

“What, YangYang?” You hate the way your voice sounds right then. Like it’s clear that you’ve been crying all night and periodically over the past few hours. 

You can hear YangYang walking around, trying not to make noise. And then he whispers, “I think you should come over here. He’s about to leave for the weekend.”

“Excuse me?” What exactly is YangYang asking you? Does he think that because he watched the two of you last night, because you let him watch last night, because you and Haechan had a big fight last night that you’ll just sneak over there to hook up with him as soon as Haechan leaves for a few days?

“What?” YangYang asks, and then a brief pause before he exclaims, “Oh! No, like…. I don’t mean….” He sighs, then clarifies, “I really think you should come over here, and Haechan is about to leave for Jeju, and I think you should go with him. He told me last night after you left what the real problem was. I thought you’d just finally found out what a freak he is, but he assured me that you know and you don’t care. That he’s just a fucking idiot who hasn’t told his mom that you’re his girlfriend. There's an obvious solution here.”

You grunt in acknowledgement. “But you’re the one asking me, not him.” 

“Just come over.” YangYang’s tone doesn’t leave much room for arguing. “He’s an idiot, but surely you knew that before you started dating him. Come over, talk to him, and go with him.”

“I’m hanging up,” you force the words out just a split second before you end the call on YangYang. 

You lie there for a few minutes, holding your phone, staring up at the ceiling. Thinking. 

Is Haechan, like, fucking embarrassed to be with you? Is that why he hasn’t told his family about you? Why would you want to show up right before he leaves on that trip, to argue with him some more about it? You don’t want to ruin his trip, even if you are upset with him right now. 

And why should you go without him making any sign of apology first? It’s YangYang reaching out to you, not Haechan, and that doesn’t feel right either. If Haechan isn’t going to make the effort to say that he’s sorry, that he sees the wrong he’s done in this situation, then why should you put in the effort?

You lie there for a little while longer, turning your phone over and over in your hands. 

Your phone buzzes with a message, and you turn it over quickly just to see that it’s a message from YangYang. 

“Don’t know if you’re on your way over, but he just left.”

Your heart does a strange tumble in your chest. 

Not that you were really thinking about going over there, but it gives you a strange feeling to know that it’s not an option anymore. Haechan is gone, on his way to Jeju island. 

But something about that is the impetus you needed, and you finally lug yourself out of bed and into the shower. 

Maybe you should just text Haechan, you think as you massage your shampoo through your hair. Just open up that pathway with him so he knows you’re not totally pissed off to the point that you want to break up. Because you definitely don’t want to break up with him. He’s Haechan, the love of your life. 

You spend the rest of your shower drafting up different versions of the message you want to send him, so as soon as you step out of the shower, you reach for your phone, ready to send the message. 

But then you see you have several notifications. A couple texts. Three missed calls. 

All from Haechan. 

Then, somewhat muffled by distance, you hear a thud and your phone rings again. Haechan. 

And the thudding noise again, but you now recognize it as knocking on your apartment door. 

You don’t even bother to dry off. Instead, you just wrap the towel around you and beeline straight for the front door. The knocking continues as you approach. 

Through the peephole you can see Haechan standing there, his phone pressed to his ear while he knocks with the other hand. You can see his lips moving, and through the door you hear his muffled voice saying, “Come on, please. Please don’t just ignore me, baby.”

Your phone rings again in your hand. 

Haechan drops his head against the door. 

The moment you touch the deadbolt, Haechan straightens up, and when you pull the door open a few inches, you can see him standing there and looking at you with heavy emotions weighing down the corners of his mouth. 

“What, Donghyuck?” 

His lips, which had begun to lift into a smile, sink once more. You know he doesn’t like when you use his real name, especially not when the tone you say it in is sharp and hard, not at all softened by a smile as it usually is with him. 

His eyebrows furrow together a bit. “I’m sorry. I came here to say I’m sorry. All last night after you left, I kept thinking about you, about how I made a mistake. How I wanted to get out of bed and come over here to apologize and make things right. But I figured that you wouldn’t want to see me.”

Frankly, if he’d shown up last night, you probably wouldn’t have even granted him the courtesy of opening your door even this much. But right now you open it a few inches more, with your body barring the way. 

“Do you realize how much it hurt me to hear you say that, Haechan? To realize that I love you so much, that all of our friends and my family know that we’re together, that you and I have discussed the future and have made tentative plans to move into a place together, but you haven’t even told your family that I hold even a small place in your mind? That makes me feel like shit, Haechan. How am I supposed to take anything you say seriously now? Do you mean it when you tell me you love me? Do you really want to move in together? Do you mean it when you tell me about how much you want to get married and be a dad, and if you do mean it, do you mean you want it with me?”

Silence follows your words for a moment. Haechan stands there in front of you, wringing his hands together. 

“I’m an idiot,” he says finally. “I just… I know I should’ve told them about you. But there’s some things that I just want to hold close, and you’re one of them. Because I’m embarrassed. Not by you!” He quickly says, looking up at you with wide eyes. “I’ve never…. I’ve never brought anyone home before. They’ve never met anyone I’ve been in a relationship with, never seen me with anyone in a romantic way. That’s what I’m embarrassed about. They’ve never seen this side of me, this totally over-the-top in love side. Not to mention that I’m embarrassed by how for years we were just friends, but when I realized I had feelings for you, I fell so hard and fast.”

“You are an idiot,” you agree. “Do you think it wasn’t embarrassing for me? To have my family walk in on us? To have to introduce them to you minutes later? As soon as I told them your name, I could tell that they were laughing because for years, Haechan, I’d been talking about you. My mom teases me about it later that night. But never once, not for one minute, did I think it would be too embarrassing for them to know that I was dating you, that I’m in love with you.”

Haechan lowers his head. 

You tighten your hold on the towel you’re clutching around yourself. “But you have to see this from my side, right? You’ve been telling me that you love me, but then you tell me that I’m a huge secret from your family, they’ve never heard about me. You have to see how I would take that, don’t you? How I would hear that and believe that I’m nothing more than a fun fuck for you, a way for you to get kinky?”

“No,” Haechan interjects. “No, you’re not that. You have to know that.”

The way he’s staring at you tears at your heart. You’ve pretty much already forgiven him. You don’t want to be mad at him, after all, and he’s made this effort to come here and apologize. But, you’d like to see him grovel a little longer. 

Haechan says, “I was just embarrassed to realize I was so dumb and blind for so long, to go from telling myself that all the feelings I had for you were only friendly to suddenly being so in love with you and wanting you so much that it hurt me to watch anyone else touch you or look at you for too long. I love you, I want you. I want to live with you and be in love with you for the rest of our lives. But I need you to forgive me for being ridiculous. There’s really only one way to make things right, isn’t there?” 

Haechan takes a half-step backwards. 

Your heart lurches in your chest as he begins to sink down on one knee. 

You open the door fully now, staring in unmitigated shock at Haechan as he lowers himself down.

“Lee Donghyuck—“ Your tone is one of warning. 

He glances up at you. His lips tilt into a smirk, and he drops the other knee so that he’s just kneeling on the floor in front of your door. He folds his hands together, looks up at you with amusement lighting his eyes, hands lifted in a pleading manner as he begs, “Will you please forgive me, baby? My angel? Forgive me and come with me this weekend. Come meet my family.”

With a groan, you reach over and shove at his shoulder. 

Haechan laughs, dropping down to sit on his ankles. 

“You’re a dick,” you whine. 

“What? Did you think I was going to ask something else?” Haechan laughs, still looking up at you. 

You simply roll your eyes at him, turn around and walk away into your apartment, leaving the door open behind you.

Haechan calls out after you, “What’s your answer?”

“Just come inside!” You’re already walking into your bedroom, already reaching for a bag and some clothes. You hear the apartment door close, and then the sound of his footsteps crossing the floor. “Are you at least going to give your mom a heads up that you’re bringing someone with you?”

Haechan leans in your doorway, watching as you collect clothes and fold them nicely into your bag. He hums a little sound, “I may have called her earlier. I told her that I’ve been seeing a girl, and she asked me a thousand questions about you, and I told her that you’re coming home with me this weekend, so she’ll be able to ask you everything.”

“And what if I’d told you no? What if I really was ignoring you and just never answered?” You glance over at him, and Haechan is just watching you with this gentle smile. 

“I didn’t want to even consider that possibility,” Haechan says with a shake of his head.

You walk away to your bathroom, gathering your toiletries together. 

While you’re in there, Haechan says, “I love you, you know that, right? Like, I’m so in love with you, I’m sure I’m gonna catch shit about it this weekend from my mom and my siblings. They’re gonna tease the hell out of me, especially once my mom realizes who you are. Like I said yesterday, and never really got the chance to explain, I feel like there’s gonna be some judgment this weekend.”

You pop your head back out of the bathroom. Yes, that statement from him the night before had certainly triggered some of the more heated emotions that sent you walking out of his apartment. So right now, hearing it again, you can’t help asking, “And what does that mean?”

“Nothing bad.” Haechan rolls his eyes with a good-natured smile. “You’re wonderful. I don’t think they would find you lacking. If anything, they’re going to judge me against you and wonder why the hell you would put up with me.” 

That’s bullshit. “As if. Haechan, you’re perfect. I’ve heard the way you talk about your mom, and I know you, so there’s no way that she doesn’t believe you’re perfect.”

Haechan snorts. “I know you think I’m perfect, angel, but not everyone feels the same. Especially not when you’re there with all of your… you-ness.”

“Meaning what exactly?” What does your you-ness mean? Is it a compliment?

Haechan stands there for a moment as you emerge from the bathroom to pack your toiletries into your bag, and you can see him mulling over the words, rolling them around in his mind and on his tongue for a moment before he finally lets them out. 

“You are perfect. Like actually. I’m good at imitating perfection maybe, but you just… are.” Haechan sighs suddenly. “Everything about you just fits into this bubble of perfection in my mind. You’re an angel in my eyes, and I know you know it.”

A warm glow through your chest, melting the last bits of icy bitterness remaining from your fight yesterday. 

And you dissolve just a little more when Haechan walks closer, when he clutches one of your hands, bringing it to his chest, against his heart. 

He tells you, “You’re beautiful, kind, hard-working and smart. You’re one of the only women in our company, the best in your area, and you just keep excelling. When you got that promotion, oh my God. I’m so proud of you, proud to call myself your boyfriend. You’re living your dream, and I wish I could do that.” 

It is your dream to be working this job, to have a successful career in this field. You know that Haechan enjoys his work in this area too, but after that night of your first date, when you’d encouraged him to sing, you’d reawakened his youthful dream of being a singer, one that he hasn’t made much progress towards achieving, though not from lack of trying. 

Haechan’s heart beats steadily beneath your hand. He holds your gaze as he continues speaking from the heart. 

“I couldn’t possibly find anyone in this world to love me better than you. You’re a daydream, and my favorite  wet dream, to put it bluntly. So, yeah. You’re perfect, my angel, and as soon as my family realizes that you’re the one I’ve been telling them about for years now, the friend I met as a freshman, my mom is gonna call me an idiot for waiting so long to realize that I was in love with you.”

That makes you laugh, genuinely laugh from the belly. 

You pull your hand away from his chest so you can instead throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him into a tight hug.

“You are an idiot for waiting years to realize that you were in love with me.” You crush yourself against him, unable to disagree with his mom’s hypothetical words. “I had a crush on you from day one, Haechan, and we were friends for so long. It’s only because of you that it took us so long.”

Haechan makes a face. “I don’t know about that.”

You scoff. “It’s true. You were so blind to me for years, and now look at you.” You pull back from the hug so you can see his face. “You’re a total sucker for me, wrapped around my finger.”

A slow-growing smile appears on Haechan’s face. “Oh? I am wrapped around your finger?”

You nod.

Haechan tsks at you. “I think you’re mistaken, angel. You’re the one wrapped around my finger, baby, and sometimes around multiple fingers.” As he says it, Haechan tightens the arm around your waist. He touches his lips to your ear. “You’re often wrapped around my tongue, like last night.” he croons. 

You shiver a little, recalling the pleasure of riding his face on the sofa last night. But you don’t have time for that sort of distraction right now. If you’re going to make it to Jeju island today, you should probably be leaving soon. 

“Just admit it, baby,” Haechan is still saying, “If one of us will do anything the other asks of them, it’s you.”

Again, you scoff. You push out of his hold. “Why don’t you take my bag while I get dressed.”

You’re still just wearing your towel after the shower. And you don’t think traveling to meet his family in just a towel would give them a very good first impression. 

Haechan grins, pecks a kiss to your cheek, grabs your bag, and heads out your bedroom door. 

a/n: Haechan in the story is a bit of a dumbass tbh, like??? Just tell your family about the woman that you're literally so in love with!!! But... anyway, you'll get a little bit of his POV in the next chapter about that! You'll also be getting more of totally, fully, completely in love Haechan waxing romantic about Y/N.

I can't believe that next chapter is gonna be the end already, I feel like I just started writing and posting this fic not too long ago!

As always, your likes, reblogs, comments, messages, stream of consciousness thoughts about YIMA are greatly appreciated! Thank you!!

previous chapter || next chapter  (Coming Soon)

[sarcophagid]

my super real comic that exists

[tarot-boys]

my piece for @ IDVDisability on twitter !! all profit will be donated to the PCRF, please help if you can!

[loveshudder]

[pddngchi-artblog]

yima & luca log 01

Just a little rambly here:

Ever since I read “No Hard Feelings” on Ao3 (i forgot the author’s name nOOOO) I got attached to Yima and Luca’s dynamic because of how different their principles and beliefs are, but also their chemistry personality wise! The way the author potrays their friendship feels like a sibling dynamic to me as well ; u ; and I just,,,aaughgh,aa,ghgh,,,

[yellow-artz]

🐍 . 🦎 they’re turning the frogs yuri

[0ctopuscat]

Art dump because Twitter is being unusable (again)

[mono-rabbit]

can't believe there are now three hip rock songs in dance dance evolution

read more:

in case you're not aware, setsujou danka is now added to ddr recently as part of the bemani spring konaste big thanksgiving 2024 event (that song is grand prix exclusive....for now ig...)

[shempacii]

more ocs. trying to work out the character designs.

[t0bey]

This essence still rattles in my brain sometimes

[sluttyten]

You In My Arms

Chapter 9: The Moment

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: the moment finally comes when all the build-up of tension between you and Haechan is released

length: 11,371 words

tags: friends to lovers, general perversion, smut, public sex, slight degradation, slight daddy kink, slight spanking

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You feel boneless. 

Warm, satisfied, like a star just after supernova. 

Relaxed. 

Haechan pulls the keys from your car’s ignition, still staring at you with the same look of awe as he’s been giving you since you came just moments ago with his name spilling from your lips while you looked at him. 

You weren’t joking when you told him you might explode if you don’t fuck him tonight. 

Ever since he picked you up for this date, you’ve been overwhelmed with lust. You’re sure you’re just extra horny because of hormones, the stage of your monthly cycle you’re in at the moment. But there’s something extra about tonight that’s got you feeling this way. Maybe it’s just the general excitement of going on a date finally with Haechan. The excitement of finally knowing that the feelings you’ve been having for years are actually reciprocated. 

You’d had moments of doubt. 

Mostly after you told your roommate that Haechan was taking you out. She’d laughed and said, “You're joking,” which had been enough to enter a seed of doubt into your mind, especially when her following few sentences were her trying to back up her disbelief. She’d pointed out the years of friendship that had been absolutely nothing more than just that. She’d pointed out that she thought you two had fucked that time he’d slept over, and she’d figured that it had been a drunken romp and you’d gotten over your crush on him. She’d told you that she assumed that Haechan had just fucked you that time because you’d both been drunk and you had probably thrown yourself at him, and he was a red-blooded male who had been known in school as something of a man-whore. 

There also was now a bitter edge to any words shared with your roommate. Her general shitting on your happiness over this date had stuck with you. 

So there had been some doubt. 

But looking at Haechan tonight throughout the date, all your doubts had been erased. 

He didn’t look at you the way that people who only wanted to fuck looked. 

And right now, as you feel like you could sink into the material of this seat, remnants of pleasure zipping over your skin and through your veins like little shimmers of stardust, you know that he’s just as thoroughly obsessed with you as you are with him. You more than want him. You more than like him. 

You’ve come to know Haechan better and better over the years. Your crush has developed from a silly first-impression crush, to a real crush with feelings and reasons behind it, to genuinely liking him, and now….

You don’t want to say it. 

But it feels like what comes after like. 

“Are you just going to keep looking at me?” Haechan teases after too long of the two of you just gazing at each other. “Or are we going upstairs so I can fuck you before you explode, like you requested.”

“Fuck you.” You turn your head away, sitting up. You wipe your hand surreptitiously on the inside of your skirt, pulling your clothes back into place. “Aren’t you going to be nice to me, Haechan? This is our first date, so shouldn’t you be, like, opening my door for me?”

He grins, passing your car keys over to you as he opens his door and climbs out. You watch him walk around the car, and he does indeed open your door for you. He even holds his palm out for you to slide your fingers into. 

The journey from beside your car up to the door of your apartment is a total blur. Your hand is anchored in Haechan’s, and that sweet summery scent that is cemented in your mind as belonging to Haechan clouds your thoughts. 

He kisses you against your apartment door. Your back presses against the outside of it, bitterly cold wind blowing through the open stairwell, but for the moment you don’t care with his warm body covering yours and his fiery kisses stirring up an internal heat that reaches to your fingers and toes. You would be happy to just stand there, kissed utterly breathless against the door, if it weren’t for the boom of a door shutting on a floor above you, the clamor of footsteps descending the stairs. 

You fumble for the lock on your door, trying to unlock it without truly breaking the kiss, but you have to peel yourself away from Haechan to look down. Not that it deters him; Haechan kisses your cheek, your ear, your jaw, your throat. 

The door flies open behind you just as your upstairs neighbor reaches your floor. 

They catch a glimpse of Haechan laughing, his arms caged around you, his legs halfway twisted with yours as the pair of you stumble and nearly fall into your apartment. You kick the door shut behind you, but you’re already moving away from it. Your fingers are twisted in Haechan’s coat to strip it from his shoulders, both of you nearly trip over your shoes as you slip them off while you move towards your bedroom. 

It’s like a race to see which of you can get naked first. 

Haechan loses his coat and his pants in the time it takes you to pull off the hat, scarf, jacket, and the top you were wearing. His hands burn icily against your sides when they meet bare skin, his fingers still chilly from the cold outside. 

“Shit, Haechan. Warm up before you touch me.” You gasp against his lips, grabbing his hands to press them between the warmth of your palms. 

He laughs, drawing his hands away as the pair of you pass through your bedroom door, and he leans down to tug his socks off. You peel the long skirt down your legs, stepping out of the puddle of it, and you stand there in front of Haechan with nothing on but a pair of tall socks that have slouched down around your ankles, and those are soon gone too. 

Haechan stares at you, alone in the middle of your bedroom. You’re naked and he’s still standing there in his shirt and his underwear, and under the intensity of his gaze, you feel a little self-conscious. 

Just as you go to fold your arms over your chest, Haechan moves forward, reaching for your arms to keep them at your sides. 

From there, his right hand drifts to your side, skimming up over the skin covering your ribs — such a featherlight touch that it almost tickles — and then his knuckles come to the curve of your breast. With his left hand, Haechan curls it against your hip, urging your hips forward against him as his other hand cups your breast. 

“I’ve thought about your tits,” he admits, his gaze intent on your chest, on the weight of your breast in his hand, on the peaks of your nipples. “Ever since the night when we first slept in the same bed, since the hot tub. You were just lying there, and whatever you were wearing and how you were positioned, I could just see your tits perfectly. I remember thinking,” he pauses to lick his lips before continuing, “How badly I wanted to touch them, to have them in my mouth. You smelled so nice too, that the next morning I just about jerked off with my face buried in the pillow you slept on. My pillow.”

Your face glows with heat. His thumb passes over your nipple, and a zing of arousal shoots to your belly. 

“Can I tell you something?” You ask, feel your legs tremble slightly. 

Haechan nods, his eyes following the way that he circles his thumb right around your nipple. 

“That night, when you were downstairs jerking off while watching Shotaro and his girlfriend, while I was upstairs getting myself off too…” You remember cumming around your fingers that night, thinking of him, breathing in the smell of him embedded in those sheets, and just how you’d mingled yours with his. “I thought of you that night. I was in your bed, the sheets and the pillow smelled like you which made it so easy, and after I’d cum, when I was still just lying there with my head on your pillow, my nose buried there and breathing you in, I decided to see how we might smell together.”

Now, Haechan finally looks up, his eyes on yours. “And?”

“And my fingers were so wet and slick, so I wiped them on your pillowcase. To smell us together.” Your heart races with the admission. 

Haechan groans.

Then he stoops, both of his arms going beneath your thighs, and he lifts you in his arms, moving towards your bed just a few feet away. He drops you down onto it, covers your lips with his again. 

This kiss is slow. It’s filthy as he opens you slowly, exploring every inch of your mouth. Your knees squeeze against his sides as Haechan drops his hips forward. 

“That is so gross,” he moans, “And so hot. I wondered why the fuck my pillow smelled so good. It didn’t make sense for it to just be your shampoo. It didn’t make sense why I was so turned on just by smelling what I thought was your shampoo, but now, babe, I really need an actual taste of you.”

Haechan pulls away, leaving you on your back on your bed. You watch him walk back over towards your bedroom door. He flicks the switch by the door, flooding your bedroom with light, and then he swings the door shut. 

He’s standing there in a tshirt and tight underwear, lust burning in his eyes. You sit up to look at him just the same way as he’s looking at you, to watch as he reaches down and lifts the bottom of his shirt up. He reveals his stomach, and your eyes trace the scattered constellation of moles over his belly and ribs, over his chest. Your gaze lingers as his shirt comes up and off, brownish pink nipples revealed, a thin silver chain around his neck. His hair is mussed, sticking up a little silly as his shirt falls to the floor, and you smile. 

His hands slide down over his chest and his belly again, and then he tucks his thumbs into the band of his underwear. 

“What’s with the striptease?” You whine, shifting into a more comfortable spot in your bed. “I’ve seen your dick before, Haechan. Come on over here.”

His lips cock into a smile. “I forgot. Impending explosion over there, aren’t you?” 

His underwear drops, and Haechan takes a step forward, striding towards you confidently. 

You bite your lip, sinking onto your elbows, and then as Haechan slinks onto the bed on his hands and knees, crawling over you, you reach for him. He covers your body with his, pressing you flat into your sheets, all bare skin on bare skin, and when he kisses you, it’s not on the lips. His mouth is soft and gentle at your throat. Your fingers drag along his shoulders, down his back along his spine, and when Haechan sucks at your throat, lightly pinching the sensitive skin between his teeth, your fingers dig into his ass. 

“Haechan,” you moan, a shiver of pleasure working its way through you. 

He laughs against your throat. “Say that again. I like the sound of you moaning my name.”

“Mm,” you hum as he licks over your pulse. “Haechan.”

“Again,” he commands, and his kiss drifts down to your chest. 

“Haechan,” you sigh, and your fingernails scrape his skin. 

Every inch of your skin buzzes, not just the parts that he’s touching. You’ve waited for this, dreamed and fantasized, but none of it lives up to right now. Finally having Haechan skin-to-skin with you, his lips working their way down the space between your ribs, his lips crooking into a smile when his name slips out on another breath. You couldn’t ever truly imagine the high heat rushing beneath your skin as Haechan’s hands move to your thighs, as he slides lower and lower, lips moving past your belly button, as he pushes your thighs up while he fits his body just right and just like that….

“Fuck, Haechan!” You moan, fingers diving into his hair as he lowers his kiss right against your core. 

His tongue sweeps through your wetness up to your clit, hands cradling your thighs, angling your pussy towards his face. Haechan tastes you and he keeps going back in for more. He moans as he sucks your clit, as he flicks his tongue, as you continue sighing his name.

Haechan takes his time, savoring your pussy, and you enjoy every second of it. When he progresses from just leaving kisses along your slit to properly licking you out, letting his tongue taste a little deeper, you start moving. You roll your hips, trying to ride his tongue, but Haechan presses his thumbs into your thighs, moaning in protest, trying to pin your hips down. 

He jerks his head to the side, scraping his teeth along your sensitive inner thigh, and he bites down. 

You yelp, caught off guard but you can’t deny that the burning imprint of his teeth on your thigh turns you on even more. 

“Settle down. Be a good girl for me.” Haechan’s tongue soothes over the bite, and he drops a few scattered kisses over your thigh, kissing his way back to your core. “Be patient. You’ve waited long enough.”

“Stop talking,” you whine, pressing your fingers into his hair to try to get his mouth back on your pussy. 

One hand lifts to your wrist, and Haechan pulls your hand from his hair to pin it instead against your belly. His other palm applies pressure to one of your thighs making sure you keep it in the position he wants you in as he lowers his head again. 

All you can do is say his name, to moan how good it feels, wordless sounds when he moans too and thrusts his tongue deeper, sweet strokes of his tongue that make your world go black for a moment, belly go tight, and that pleasurable tingle you feel throughout your body explodes. 

Haechan’s hand twists, quickly tangling his fingers with yours right there against your belly, squeezing as he receives a burst of your taste on his tongue. He keeps going, eating your pussy and all that you give him. He keeps your hips pinned to the bed even though you so badly want to rock your hips against his face to get even more out of this orgasm, but even without it, you’re dazzled and floating in the aftermath. Especially since he doesn’t just stop; Haechan keeps kissing your pussy, sweet little licks against your clit that have the muscles in your thighs twitching. 

“Haechan!” You whine, trying to move your free hand down to lace your fingers into his hair, but he grabs that one too. Both of your hands are pinned to your belly as your hips lift up off the bed, rocking against Haechan’s tongue as another wave of bliss rolls through you. 

You moan, wrists jerking beneath his hold, but you twist your hands just right so your fingertips reach his hair. He laughs when you tug on that which you can reach, and he draws his mouth away from you. 

“No! Don’t stop,” comes the protest from your lips. 

He kisses your hip, your belly, mouthing hungrily over your ribs to your tits. Hot lips and tongue, the pinch of his teeth, and he wraps his lips around one of your nipples as you gasp and whimper. You drag a hand over his shoulders and down his spine, the other twisting in his hair, while your thighs squeezing against his hips. 

“I fucking—“ Haechan moans against your breast. “I adore you.” 

He lifts his head, and you drag his mouth up to yours. Haechan curls one hand behind your neck, his other hand grasps at your thigh, dragging it a little higher as his body settles perfectly between your thighs. 

You love it. 

You love having Haechan’s body resting against yours, all the heat and softness of skin on skin as you make out with him, as hands explore bodies, as you explore each other entirely. You’re in total bliss. 

This is Haechan. Lee Donghyuck, the man you’ve basically been in love with since day one. 

And you’re about to have sex with him. 

You slide a hand up beneath your pillow, hand searching around, and finally you feel it at your fingertips. 

Haechan makes a soft sound of confusion when your hand slips something into his, but when he breaks the kiss to look at what you’ve handed him, he laughs. “A condom. Do you usually keep those beneath your pillow?”

“Wishful thinking.” You gaze up at Haechan as he shifts to kneel between your legs. 

He’s gorgeous. It’s ridiculous. 

You’ve seen him in various stages of undress over the last several years. But never fully nude in full-lighting. Never at this particular angle, in this particular context. Never with the liberty to drink in every single inch of him. To lower your gaze slowly and hungrily from his eyes, down his chest and belly, to the dark hair around the base of his very hard cock. You can admire the beauty of his thighs, which look invitingly bare, like they’re missing the indent of your teeth or bruises left by your mouth; you can just imagine sucking Haechan’s cock and covering his thighs with hickeys. Not right now, though. Right now your focus drifts elsewhere. You’re free to watch his hands as he wraps one around his dick and the other lifts the condom.

Your belly aches, your mouth waters. You want his cock, to feel his thickness pressing into you. Haechan Is definitely bigger around than any guy you’ve been with within the last few years. Girthier than Renjun and Xiaojun definitely, and with the few guys you’d done anything with while exploring your exhibition kink, the guys at work you’d hooked up with, they’d not been anything to write home about either. But Haechan… decently long, thick around. When you’d had him in your mouth earlier tonight in the car, you’d been pleasantly surprised to feel your jaw ache as you opened wide for him. So you’re certain that he’s going to feel so fucking good inside you. 

Haechan tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, then quickly reaches down to put it on. 

You’re already pulling him back down over you before he’s fully done. 

He resumes his previous position, body pressing you into the bed, his hips fit between your thighs, his mouth on yours. You keep both of your hands in his hair, controlling the kiss as his hands slide along your sides and thighs and tits. And finally he rolls his hips forward, humping against you. His cock slides right against your clit. And then again. Haechan sighs pleasurably into the kiss. He grinds forward, and now you whine again. 

“Haechan,” you whine, moan, beg. You need him inside you, sooner rather than later. 

Your name is echoed back to you in the same tone of needy desire. And then he asks, “You're gonna be a good girl for me, right? Gonna take my cock and let me touch you however I want?” You nod, but Haechan shakes his head. “Say it for me, angel. Tell me you’re gonna be a good girl for me.”

Heat flashes over your skin, under your skin, everywhere all at once. 

“I’m a good girl.” You put on your best face of innocence, fluttering your eyelashes up at him. “I’m a good girl for you, Haechan.” 

Haechan’s mouth twitches, like he’s going to say something, but he stops himself and he instead lifts himself up enough that he can watch the moment that he gets a hand on himself and moves forward, guiding his cock. You watch his face as he watches himself, hips pressing forward into the sweet heat of your pussy. Eagerly waiting and welcoming him in, like a good girl should. 

Haechan doesn’t take it slow. Not that you want it slow, because you definitely don’t. He thrusts in all at once, and your knees jump up, squeezing his sides, a moan punched from your throat as his thickness stretches you open. One hand in his hair, you tug on his long hair, drawing a similar sounding moan from him, his head dropping forward. He drops back over you, lips seeking yours again. 

Your hearts pound together, chests flush while you make out, your bodies rolling together. It’s electric, feeling him everywhere, and your mind is only thinking of Haechan — his smell, his taste, his weight, his cock, his heat, his hands cradling your thighs as he pushes them up to the sides, giving him a little more space to move, the chance to get deeper. 

He hisses a little when your fingernails dig into his left thigh, you want him to fuck you harder, deeper, to stay right here against you. In retaliation, he drops his head to your throat, pinching your skin lightly between his teeth. You pull his hair. His breath comes sharp against your throat, and Haechan’s hips snap forward, smacking against your ass. You feel so full as he sinks in as deep as he can, his balls snug against your ass, his hips pressing into your thighs. 

“Yeah,” you moan. “Haechan-ah, like that.”

Your hand slides up from his thigh to his ass, fingers pressing into the firm muscle. 

“Fuck,” he curses, “You’re taking me so well, babe. So tight around me, it’s like you were made for me.”

Exactly. He fits so well inside you, so wonderfully thick that your pussy has never felt fuller (except the time you tried a really big dildo you bought online). He fills you perfectly, and as Haechan draws back just to push in again, that fact remains true. You cling to his shoulder and his hip, pulling him into you even as he thrusts forward, your pussy squeezes around his cock, and your lips spill his name. 

“That’s right,” Haechan moans, “Say my name, and your neighbors are gonna hear. Let them know how I’m making you feel.”

“Haechan!” You cry out, and your mind flashes to your neighbors, like the nosy old lady next door who has loudly complained in the past about the kids living on the second floor who always play in the stairwell, who will leave rude notes slipped under your apartment door if you and your roommate even play music or watch TV too loudly. So she’ll definitely dislike the sound of you moaning Haechan’s name loudly, letting your whole floor know that you’re having a great time. 

And then, suddenly, Haechan changes positions, rolling you over on top of him. 

“Come on, babe. You were so eager to ride me earlier in the car.” His hair is fluffed out around his face as Haechan looks up at you. “Weren’t you begging to sit on my cock? Show me what you’ve got.”

His hand snaps against your ass, and you jolt into motion. You lift yourself up, hands braced on Haechan’s chest as you begin riding him, pull yourself up his cock just to drop back down. At this new angle, everything feels magnified. A loud, drawn out moan escapes you. You fuck yourself on his cock a few times, riding him like his cock is nothing more than a toy, and then you sink fully down on him, rocking your hips.

“Ah, fuck,” Haechan moans, tipping his head back, his eyes closing. His hand flexes on your thigh, and he opens his eyes again so he’s looking you in the eye as he praises, “I wish you could see yourself right now. You’re always beautiful, but right now, fuck, you’re so pretty, just all…” He lifts his hand from your hip to stroke along your side. 

Your pussy throbs when Haechan thumbs over your nipple. 

“And the way you feel around me right now….” He moans. “You’re riding my cock so well, angel. I think I could get used to this, let you on top. Maybe sit you in my lap next time we go out to eat with all of our friends, let you keep my cock warm, ride me right there in front of them to show them how much of a good girl you are for me alone.” 

Your pussy squeezes around him, increasingly aroused at the idea of doing that. You can imagine it now, a table against your belly, your hands gripping the edge as you roll your ass down into Haechan’s lap. His hands pushing up your skirt, pulling aside your panties, fingers slipping around over your thighs, parting them to either side of his legs as he stuffs you with his cock, lips against your ear as he whispers for you not to make a sound. You can imagine feeling the eyes of the others on you, some of them all too knowingly. Like Renjun and Jaehyun who both know about your thing for public sex, who would see right through any pretenses of innocence. 

“Do you like that?” Haechan asks, and he pushes his hands against your bed, pushing upright until his chest is against yours once more, his face right before you. Close enough that he could just dip in and kiss you, but he holds where he is. “I can feel how much you like that. Your cunt is throbbing, sweet angel. And you’re so fucking wet.” 

He slips a pair of fingers down between your legs as you move your hips, riding him to your heart’s content. Feeling his fingers damp and slick on your clit only magnifies what you’re feeling, and you whine. 

“What?” Haechan asks, his mouth tilting in a smirk. “Tell me, angel. What do you want?”

You lean in, going for a kiss, but Haechan pulls his head back. 

“Ah, ah.” He shakes his head. “Tell me what you want. Use your words.”

“Fuck you,” you whimper, with absolutely no bite behind the words. 

“Oh? Is that what you want?” He laughs. “I don’t think we’re prepared for that, babe. Maybe next time.”

You frown and whine, “That’s not what I meant!”

And you push at his shoulders. 

Haechan just laughs again, and it creates a whole new sensation.

All you want is to kiss him and to cum. Your climax feels so close right now. And you know Haechan knows that. He just wants to hear you say it. 

“Haechan,” you whine, “I wanna cum. I’m close. So close, if you just…”

 He pinches your clit between his fingers. “Ask nicely. Don’t just beg for it.”

You dig your nails in at his shoulders, and Haechan hisses, but not in pain. 

“Kiss me,” you cry out, rocking yourself in his lap, on his cock. “Can you please kiss me, Haechan? Can I please cum?”

A bright heat burns behind Haechan’s gaze. “Go on then, babe. If you want it so bad, just take it.”

So you do. 

You sling one arm around his shoulders, behind his neck, and you crush your mouth to his. Haechan eagerly opens up to the kiss, his tongue darting out to tangle with yours, and at first it’s a little bit uncoordinated as you rise up on your knees, pussy tight around his cock, and you drop back down. Kissing him while riding him, aiming for your climax, has you moaning into the kiss, biting at Haechan’s bottom lip. His hands grip your hips and ass, helping you to keep moving smoothly on his cock as your focus starts to slip, the pleasure building. 

Again, his name is a mantra from your tongue. Your hips rock in increasingly more erratic motions, your heart racing, body flushed, and you slide one hand down between your body and Haechan’s to get your fingers on your clit. Tight circles as you bounce on his cock and moan his name against his lips. 

He’s everywhere, and your senses burst as you realize that. Everywhere is the taste of Haechan, the smell of him, the feel of him, the sound of his breathing and his moans and your name whispered in total awe and admiration as you finally fall apart on his cock. He’s everywhere as your world narrows to his arms around you, his cock inside you, his chest against yours as your heart thunders, his lips caressing your cheek and praising your name. 

Haechan tips you backwards until your shoulders hit the sheets, but his hold on your hips keeps them lifted in his lap. He holds himself above you, and fucks into you without restraint. 

Your pussy clings to him, pulling him in deeper, squeezing him tighter, milking around his cock to get him to cum too. 

You’re a moaning, writhing mess beneath him. Your eyes are dazed with the powerful rush of endorphins. Your skin tingles with sensitivity, but you love the way it feels to have his body colliding so pleasantly with yours — the high heat of where his body connects with yours, the buzz of his fingers whispering over your bare skin as he brings a hand to your chest to touch your tits. 

Haechan’s moans and gasps are just as loud as yours now, the sounds filling the room, overflowing with pleasure. 

Everything reaches new heights when Haechan hits his orgasm. You pull him down over you as he fills the condom. Your fingers pull at his shoulders, and you kiss him as you both work your way down from your highs. Coming together and shattering apart time and time again, your body shivering against his not because you’re cold but because you’re just so sensitive as he keeps grinding into you, your breath hiccuping in your chest. 

But eventually he stops, leaning his weight down against you with only his arms on either side of you keeping him from pressing all of his weight down on you. His fingers braid through your hair, his mouth moves slowly against yours, and you’re just melting into the bed as you kiss him back, fully relaxing and satisfied, completely boneless beneath him. There’s nowhere you’d rather be. 

“Don’t.” You complain as Haechan eventually begins to pull away. He lifts himself away from you, but your hands are quick to drag him back down, one at his shoulder and the other at his waist. You wrap your legs around his hips, keeping him anchored inside you. 

Haechan laughs. “I’ll come right back. I promise.”

When you don’t let up on him – not that he puts that much effort into breaking your hold – he sighs and kisses you once more.

“Unless you want me to piss inside you, I highly recommend you let me up, babe.” 

“I think that might be a bit too experimental for today,” you sigh, and reluctantly you drop your legs from his hips. “Next time, maybe.”

“Gross,” he teases, wrinkling his nose with a laugh. But a moment later, as he slides off the bed and reaches down to carefully remove the condom, Haechan glances up at you to ask in a casual voice, “Is that something you would actually be interested in? I’m not going to judge.”

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “We’re both clearly into some things that aren’t necessarily super common kinks. I’m open to experimentation with some other stuff.”

Another laugh from Haechan. “Well, I’ll add it to a list.”

Left bare and empty, you sit up, draw your knees up to your chest, and wrap your arms around yourself. Haechan successfully ties off the condom and tosses it into the small trash bin beside your desk. You just watch him, admiring his bare body, and you bite down on your arm a little to keep from making a lewd comment. Not that Haechan seems to mind; you can tell that he’s basking under the warm glow of your attention, preening a little as he struts to the bathroom.

You don’t leave him alone for long.

He’s just finished up when you walk in through the door he’d left cracked open. Haechan jumps a little, surprised by your sudden appearance in the mirror, but you quickly wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your chest to his back and your cheek to his shoulder.

“Do you want to shower together?” He asks.

That’s exactly why you came in here. To wash the tackiness of sweat and arousal off your skin. To be close with Haechan. He happily pulls you into your shower, standing with you beneath the showerhead. There’s only some minor distraction from the task at hand when Haechan cheekily pins both of your wrists together and draws them above your head to pin you back against the shower wall, kissing you absolutely breathless until the water turns bitingly cold. You have to hurry to finish rinsing away soap suds, your bodies are both covered in goosebumps as you step out, but it's worth it when you quickly (and insufficiently) towel each other off. 

Haechan’s hair is left fluffy and messy around his face, and your laughter emerges from the towel before your face does, but Haechan is waiting right there to kiss you regardless. You drag Haechan back into bed, turning the lights out on the way so that when you tumble into bed and you hold your damp bodies together beneath the sheets, you can pretend like this is going to be innocent and sleepy. 

That lasts all of half a second. 

Haechan laughs against your lips when you sit on top of him, your hands playfully around his neck. The laugh turns into a moan when you suck on his tongue, but it doesn’t go much further than that. Just making out which devolves into playful kissing which slows until you’re just laying on his chest. 

Your breathing syncs with his. His arms wrap around your waist. Your nose brushes his throat with every breath, and you can still smell his familiar citrusy sunshiney scent as it blends with your body wash and shampoo from the shower. 

You don’t want to move honestly, but after a while your thigh starts to cramp. 

Now it’s Haechan’s turn to grumble out a plea of “Don’t move,” which you ignore as you roll off of him to stretch out your legs. 

You don’t move far. You turn on your side to look at him, and Haechan twists his head away to stare up at the ceiling. An uncontrollable smile beats its way to your lips as you catch him checking out of the corner of his eye to see if you’re looking at him. 

“I had fun tonight,” you confess, though you hope it was obvious to him. All of tonight, from the moment you laid eyes on him outside your apartment until this second. 

Haechan turns his head, and his eyes are alight even in the dark. “Yeah?”

You nod. “Yeah. I really enjoyed the concert. It was special and different. I’ve actually listened to some of Doyoung’s music before. He’s coming up in the industry, from what I’ve heard. I had no idea that you knew him.”

Haechan rolls his eyes a little, and he looks up at the ceiling. “Doyoung’s been destined for vocal stardom since the start. From the first day I met him in one of those music elective classes I took, I knew that he was gonna be big.” 

“I forgot that you ever took music classes.” You rest your chin on your hands. “What did you learn? Singing? Instruments? Theory?”

“A little bit of all of that.” Haechan blinks slowly, and you’re utterly enchanted by the color of his eyes in the dark. “I play the piano. I can sing a bit.”

“Well?” 

“I like to think I can sing well.” Haechan laughs. “I’ve been singing since I was really little, but I never really did anything with it. Not like Doyoung has.There was a time that I dreamed of being an idol. I had a chance once, my mom offered to take me to an audition for a company, but I didn’t go. And sometimes I still think about it, about what my life would have been like if I’d pursued that lifestyle. What if I’d decided that singing was more important than hanging out with my friends that day.” 

You can’t imagine it. 

It’s impossible for you, right now in this position with Haechan’s bare thigh resting against yours in this bed, to imagine a world in which he’d gone to an audition. He would have passed of course; he would have excelled and debuted and gone on to great success, enchanting hearts and singing on stages across the world. He wouldn’t have come to your university to sit near you in an orientation group, to become your friend and your crush and your….

You look into his eyes and you see the same thoughts of a parallel timeline running through Haechan’s mind.

He shakes his head. “I still love singing, but I wouldn’t trade anything for the life I’ve had. There are too many things that would have gone differently.” And he doesn’t put it into words, but his hand shifts, sliding up to cover your hand where it rests between your pillows. “There are things that I think my life would be detrimentally lacking in, if I’d taken another path.”

You bump him with your elbow. “Can you sing for me?”

“What? Now?” His eyes go a little wide. 

You nod. “Please? Pretty please?”

Haechan sits up, leaning his back against the headboard of your bed. “You’re lucky I like you. I don’t just sing songs for just anyone, y’know.” He scoops your hand up in his, holding it in his lap. “Do you have any particular requests?”

“Nope,” you say quickly. “Anything that you like. Dealer’s choice.” You pull yourself up too, folding your legs in front of you as you face him. Haechan’s eyes fall from your face, trailing down your body before slowly rising to your eyes again. 

“I’ve got one.” Haechan licks his lips, takes a deep breath, and begins. 

“On a starry night,” he sings slowly, smoothly, clearly. “I hear your voice…”

Haechan pauses when he hears your soft, surprised inhale. You know this song well. He keeps singing You In My Arms. You’ve always really liked this song, loved it since you first heard it, and now Haechan is singing it. 

Singing it to you. 

Haechan rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, his fingers brush the inside of your wrist. If he can feel your pulse thundering right now, it does nothing to affect the beautiful way he’s singing to you, holding your gaze. If he remembers that you once sang this in front of him, at a party with your friends, he doesn’t make any indication of that. 

He just sings to you in this heart-achingly beautiful voice that you somehow didn’t know he possessed. 

As he sings, he pulls you around to sit in the V between his spread legs, your back against his chest, and he wraps you in his arms. You’re absolutely enchanted listening to the slow, sweet sound of his voice. 

“When the darkness comes and you need someone to lean on,” Haechan croons as he approaches the end of the song, “In my arms, close your eyes. In my arms—” He hugs you tightly from behind, and finishes the song so softly with the last line: “Let’s share a love dream.”

“Where have you been hiding that?” You flip your hand in his so you’re the one playing with Haechan’s fingers now. “I’ve known you for years and never knew you could sing like that.”

A swift kiss lands on the top of your head. “I guess you just haven’t been paying enough attention to me.”

That’s impossible. And you both know it. You’ve paid him quite a bit of attention over the years. 

“I just sing a lot in the shower,” he admits after another moment. “Before coming here for university, I used to sing more. I performed at school when I was younger. Tried being in a band during high school. But there just wasn’t time for all of that when I came here. Plus, like I said, I’d already passed on my big chance to do something with a singing career.”

You peel yourself away from his chest, turning around to face him. “That’s not true, you know. You could still pursue music if you want. Look at Doyoung. He’s doing it. Why can’t you?”

Haechan’s expression softens as he looks at you. “And you would support me in that decision?”

“Hell yes.” You nod. “Wouldn’t you support me to follow my wildest dreams?”

He laughs. “Oh? And what would that be?”

For the rest of the night, you sit there in your bed just talking with each other. Sharing hopes for the future and silly dreams from your past. You laugh until your belly aches as Haechan recounts a story involving his siblings. He laughs until he cries when you tell him one of your most embarrassing moments from when you were young, and you laugh right along with him.  He pins you to the bed, wrestling with you as you shriek with laughter loud enough to probably piss off your neighbors while he covers your body in kisses and tickles you. 

You talk and laugh and at one point you cry. Sad tears, reminiscing on the past. You hold each other and whisper and share smiles that make your heart race. 

You could happily talk with Haechan until the sun rises, but at some point late into the night, you drift off to sleep with Haechan’s voice vibrating his chest beneath your cheek. And you’re happy.

Everyone catches on pretty quickly to what’s going on between you and Haechan. At work, you can’t hide it. Every spare moment Haechan has, he’s standing at your desk. Even when neither of you is actually free, you’re exchanging looks and smiles. And then there are the moments when one of you will sneak away to the break room, and the other quickly follows. 

“It’s about time,” Johnny comments when he walks onto the break room to find Haechan wrapped around you from behind while you wait for your coffee to finish brewing. There’s nothing inappropriate happening then, just Haechan’s arms around your waist and his lips at your ear. And sure, he’s maybe got his boner pressed against your ass, but there’s nothing actually inappropriate happening, despite what your fantasies might want. 

Soon word spreads to everyone that the tension between you and Haechan has finally turned into this. 

“And what is this?” You ask Haechan one afternoon. 

He’s walking beside you through the parking garage. You’ve just clocked out for the day, but since it’s late winter bordering on early spring, night has fallen early and the corners of the garage are filled with shadows. Haechan had insisted that he walk you to your car, which you of course had no qualms about. 

“What is what?” He asks, glancing sideways at you. “This is a parking garage.”

You swing your arm, your bag slapping him lightly on the shoulder. He laughs, and you can’t help but smile even as you roll your eyes. “You know what I mean, Lee Donghyuck! Is this just us dating? Or…?”

You’ve been on a few more dates since that first one. You’ve gone to see a movie, you brought him as your date to an art exhibit hosted by a friend of yours, dinner out at this new place you’d mentioned wanting to go to. Most date nights ended up with you both at your place or at his, whichever place is less likely to have a roommate that night. You’ve been going on dates, yeah, but you’ve also definitely been fucking a lot too. Mostly you’re just learning from each other, having fun and growing familiar with each other's bodies and what you like, and doing a little bit of experimentation and testing boundaries. 

“Of course we’re dating,” Haechan says. “And in case it’s not clear, I’m exclusively dating you.”

That’s what you thought and hoped. But that’s not really the answer to the question that you’re asking. 

You reach your car before you muster the courage to ask Haechan if your relationship has a proper title. And even then, he distracts you from even trying to muster the courage when he cages you in against the trunk of your car. 

“We haven’t done anything like this yet. I’ve heard from you all about your public exploits with other guys, but don’t you think it’s time for you to fuck me in public, angel?” Haechan asks in a low voice. “I’ve been thinking about you all day, honestly. Since the meeting this morning. You bent over the table to hand something to Taeil, and your skirt was just so tight over your ass, I—-“ 

Haechan cuts his words off, his hand lowering to the curve of your ass beneath your skirt. 

Your body reacts instantly, warming under his touch. 

“You want to fuck me against my car in this dirty parking garage?” You ask. “Doesn’t that make me feel special.” But your body thrills just thinking about it, arousal pooling in your panties. “And I don’t have a condom on me. Do you?”

Haechan pauses just long enough that you know the answer before he says, “Actually, I do.”

“Were you planning this, sir?” You laugh and push at his shoulder. “I wondered why you were so eager to walk me down here.”

“I mean, it’s part of it. But also it’s dark out, and I’m not letting my… you walk alone to your car in the dark.” Haechan reaches into a pocket of his work bag on his shoulder, and he holds a condom between his fingers. “So what do you say, my sweet angel?”

You pluck the condom from his hand. “I want it quick and dirty. Think you can give me that?”

“How dirty?” Haechan has already got his hands on your hips turning you around so you’re facing away from him, your belly pinned against the trunk of your car. 

“I don’t want to be an angel right now,” you say, “I want to be a bad girl.”

Haechan pushes you right between your shoulder blades and you bend forward until your cheek is against the lid of the trunk. His fingers knot through your hair, and with his other hand he reaches for the bottom edge of your skirt. “Like this?”

He jerks the skirt up, revealing your panties and your ass. 

You whimper, and his fingers tighten in your hair some. “Answer me.” 

“Yes, sir,” your voice is already weak, slipping into a place of submission. “Quick, rough, and dirty.”

His hand smacks against your bare ass cheek, and your pussy gives a throb of arousal, a short moan escapes you, and you’re left craving more. This is one thing you’ve dipped your toes into with him. A bit of dominance and submission, him treating you like a toy, him just using you to get off. You love it, and he always treats you well afterwards, showering you with affection and praise to make up for whatever he says in the scenario. 

And that’s all that you want right now, bent over your car with his hand tightening in your hair. 

“Don’t move,” Haechan commands. “You want me to fuck you like you’re a filthy back-alley whore, baby? I’ll do it. Gonna use your tight whore pussy to get off, and maybe if you take me well I’ll let you cum too.”

If he keeps talking to you like this, you might cum before he starts anything. 

Haechan’s hand comes down on your ass again, and this time the resounding smack echoes around the parking garage. Your body jolts, another moan escapes. And before your mind has recovered from that burst of pleasure, he swings his hand down on the other side. Another smack echoing from the concrete ceiling and floors of the structure. 

This time Haechan keeps his hand there for a second, caressing the hot flush of your skin in the shape of his hand. A hesitation to give you the chance to tell him if it’s too much or if it’s not what you wanted. You feel the press of his erection against your other ass cheek, and he’s still got his pants on, though he’s grinding against your ass. 

“Pervert,” you hiss. “You’re really getting off on this aren’t you? Fucking me like I’m just some slut, right here where our boss or any of our coworkers could happen by?”

Sometimes you play the sweet submissive, sometimes the brat. Tonight, you’re feeling a little more feisty. 

Your words urge Haechan on. His hand in your hair clenches, drawing your hair a little further around his fingers so just a slight tug has your head lifting away from the trunk, with you helpless against him. Again he spanks your left ass cheek, and the way your body jolts from the impact tugs on your hair again. Your panties feel soaked from your arousal, and as Haechan rolls his hips forward, erection dipping into the cleft of your ass, you let out a keening moan. 

You’d asked for it to be quick. He got the rough and dirty part, but it seems like he’s dragging this out. 

You push your hips back into him, rolling your ass against Haechan’s erection. “Give it to me, Haechan. I need it.”

“Oh, you need it?” His chuckle comes from low in his chest, sending a rolling wave of arousal through you. “Do you need my cock, slut?”

His fingertips scrabble against your thighs, over your ass, up to your hips. He jerks your panties down, and automatically you shift to help make it easier for him to push them down until they fall to your ankles. Your wet core is met by the cool air, and that only serves to turn you on even more. 

Again, a new smack to one side of your ass and another quickly to the other side. 

“You might think I’m a pervert, baby, but you’re the one with wetness dripping down your thighs right now.” Haechan slicks a few fingers between your legs, right there along your slit. And from the way he has your head pinned to the trunk of your car, with your head turned to the side, you can see from the corner of your eye the way that he lifts that hand to his lips. You can see how he sucks his fingers into his mouth to get a taste of you. You watch as he sucks his fingers clean, as he gets them wet with his saliva, and then he draws them out and quickly slides his spit-lubed fingers inside you. 

You gasp, squirming, trying to fuck yourself back on his fingers. You need it. You want it. 

He pulls his fingers away. 

Heat blossoms across your ass. Stars sparkle across your vision for a second, and you realize that the tight hold Haechan has on your hair is actually kinda painful. But it’s the tolerable sort of pain. All of this is the good sort of pain that you can handle, that you like. 

“I said don’t move.” 

Distantly, you hear the squeal of tires on the parking garage floor, and for a moment both of you go a little tense. Your pussy clenches around Haechan’s fingers. His fingers loosen in your hair. 

“Don’t stop,” you beg, your voice rough. “I don’t care, Haechan. You know I like this risk of getting caught. Don’t stop.” 

You don’t care if someone drives by and catches a glimpse. You really, really don’t. You’ll only care if they stop to take a long look or to interfere. And you really don’t think they’re going to be able to see much. Your car is positioned between two much bigger vehicles — an SUV on one side that sticks out of the parking spot more than yours does, and on the other side is a big utility van which also does a good job at blocking the view from that direction. People speed through this parking garage all the time, so by the time that someone driving past could be able to see around the other cars to see what you and Haechan are doing, they’re already going to be gone. 

Haechan doesn’t stop. 

His fingers remain a little bit loose in your hair so you can turn your head so you’re looking forward through the back window of your car. The muscles in your neck twinge a little bit. 

Haechan pulls his other hand away from between your legs. He kicks your ankles apart lightly with one foot, though you have to pull one foot out of your panties to allow them to spread far enough. Haechan pushes your skirt up again, then you hear the sound of his belt being loosened. He reaches around you, grabbing the condom from where you still have it pinched between your fingers. 

“Ready for it?” Haechan asks, and you can hear the condom wrapper being torn open. You hear him softly groan as he rolls it down along his length, then the sound as he spits into his hand, and lastly the wet sound of him lubing his cock with his spit. 

“Haechan!” You whine as he just stands there, stroking his cock without putting it in you. 

Your ass stings when he spanks you again. “Ask for it nicely.”

A car goes zooming by behind you in a burst of loud music and a wave of rushing air. As you suspected, they’re gone before they could have possibly seen anything. 

In the silence that follows that car’s passing, Haechan smacks your other ass cheek. “Ask for it, slut.”

God, you like this. 

“Please, I need your cock. Can I please have it, sir?” You whimper, squirming even though you know that he told you not to move. “I feel so empty without you inside me, and it aches, it hurts.” And the little cherry on top of your plea is the final: “I need Daddy’s cock to fill me all the way up, let everyone know…”

“That you’re mine,” Haechan growls, and he pushes inside you. 

This is where the quick and the rough parts of your request come into play. He fucks you rough and fast, hitting deep, disregarding your pleasure to chase his own, which is exactly what you want right now. You want to feel like Haechan is using you, fucking you dirty in this public parking garage. 

Another car zooms by behind you, and this time you swear you hear a voice call something out, but Haechan doesn’t stop. You reach a hand back, twisting your fingers in his shirt. 

His cock feels so amazing where it stretches you open. Each time he thrusts forward, you can feel him deep, deep in your belly, hitting all those spots that make your toes curl in your shoes. 

Your moans begin to grow, and that means that they begin to echo. 

“As much as I love hearing you moan for me, I really need you to shut up,” Haechan groans, and his fingers tighten in your hair again, and this time when he tugs, it’s really more of a yank. He lifts your chest up off the trunk, making you arch your back as he brings your head back. 

“Quiet down for Daddy, babe,” Haechan demands, his voice low. “Unless you really want every single person in this entire parking garage to know what a slut you are for my cock.”

His teeth graze your earlobe. His hand applies the perfect amount of pressure against your throat, and between that limiting of your ability to breathe and the pain in your scalp, you think you might just float off on cloud 9. Haechan’s body has you pinned against your car, your hips colliding with the trunk each time he pulls back only to thrust in deeper. Your knees and hips ache, your ass stings in the shape of his handprints, and all of it combines into this perverse sense of pleasure. 

“Such a fucking good girl,” Haechan moans into your ear. “Yeah? You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well, slut.”

Your eyes burn from unshed tears. Usually you do prefer the aftercare praise, but this evening the degradation and rough use is just doing it for you. You’re going to cry, but only because you love it. 

Haechan pulls again on your hair. His lips glide along your cheek, and his hand lets up on your throat. 

“Tell me you love it,” Haechan demands. “Tell me how much you love taking Daddy’s cock like a whore.”

Your eyes roll. “I love—“ your voice is a slurred gurgle as Haechan drives his cock deep into you again. You try once more, saying, “I love your cock, sir. I love it so much. No one fucks me like you do.”

Haechan’s breath comes in sharp pants against your cheek. His hand slides from your throat down over your chest, sinking to the apex of your thighs. 

“Love it, I really do.” You moan, your head lolling back on Haechan’s shoulder. His fingers swirl in mind-numbing circles on your clit, and again you slur through the sensations of your rising climax, “I can’t get enough of you inside me, like, fuck— I, oh my God!” 

Haechan’s fingers fall away, and your orgasm recedes. 

Tears finally spill from your eyes, a sob cracking from your throat. “Haechan, please, I—“

“No.” His teeth nip at your earlobe again. He grinds into you, as if he can possibly fit his cock any deeper inside you. “Not yet.”

Again, his fingers return to your clit, and he plays the same game. He gets you right there to the edge before he backs off and leaves you crying, begging for it. He does this three times before you can’t take it anymore. You feel like your knees are about to give out, and a guttural plea of “I need to cum, please?”

“Can you cum on Daddy’s cock?” Haechan asks. “Why should I let you?”

“Because my pussy was made for Daddy’s cock,” you whimper, shivering as Haechan brings his fingers once more to your clit, and this time the circular strokes don’t fall away when you feel your climax cresting, instead Haechan keeps going as your orgasm washes through you. 

“Oh, God,” you moan, delirium and delight taking over as you sigh, “I love you.”

Haechan pulls back only to slam back in, grinding in deep as his hand tightens again on your throat, and he cums into the condom. He presses himself over you, pinning you once again fully against the trunk of your car. You can feel the hot pulse of his cum as he fills the condom; his heart thunders against your back, his hair brushes your cheek. Haechan is everywhere and everything to you in that moment.  

He recovers more quickly than you do. 

Haechan pulls out of you, tugging your skirt down to cover your ass once more. He turns you around and cradles your face in his hands. He rests his forehead against yours and begins praising you softly, kissing your nose and cheeks and your lips. 

After a few moments, you’re the one to push him away as another car rolls by. This one is the slowest of those that have passed by, and you catch an unfamiliar face staring at the way you and Haechan are embracing. There’s nothing obscene happening now, and there’s no way that they can tell that his cock is still out, though they might notice your panties trailing from one of your ankles. 

You decide to abandon the panties because they’re stretched and a little torn from Haechan’s efforts, and besides that, they’ve been on this nasty parking garage floor. You’re not putting that dirty material against your pussy. 

Haechan seems at a loss for what to do with the tied off condom, just standing there holding it in his hand. You can’t help laughing, reaching for his bemused face, pulling him in to kiss the expression away. 

“Can I come over tonight?” Haechan asks when you pull back.

You nod, plucking the condom from his hand. You walk away to a nearby trash receptacle that’s already overflowing with waste. You drop the condom into an uncovered styrofoam cup. Haechan is still standing there beside your car, unmoving, watching you with this indecipherable look in his eyes. 

“You can get in the car, y’know.” You pat his chest when you reach him, and he quickly wraps an arm around you, drawing you against his chest. He kisses you again, a thorough kiss that leaves you absolutely breathless. 

“Get in the car,” he tells you, “I’ll drive.”

So Haechan drives you home. He comes up to your apartment with you. He jokes around with your roommate (who has since come around and apologized to you for being a bitch when you and Haechan first started dating) while you change out of your work clothes. You cook an early dinner together with him, which the prep time consists of a decent amount of him caging you in against the countertop and kissing you while your dinner is on the verge of burning. Your roommate sits on the sofa eating her dinner, making disgusted faces at the two of you and telling you to get a room. 

And after your dinner meal is fully prepared and plated, you and Haechan take your plates to your bedroom and close the floor. 

You pull a movie up on Netflix, and you watch it together while you eat, and then you fit yourself between his legs to lie back against his chest with his arms around you. 

At some point during the movie, you suddenly realize that Haechan isn’t watching the movie. He’s probably not been watching it for a while, but you’re only just noticing. He’s playing with your hair, looking down at your face where your head rests back on his shoulder. Just looking at you with the light of the movie illuminating his face. His eyes gleam, but he doesn’t look away when you catch him. 

“What?” You ask, “Have I got something on my face?”

Haechan shakes his head. “No, I’m just thinking.”

“Mm, about what?” You watch how his expression changes, shifting away from that open way he’s been looking at you to a more closed-off distance. “You can tell me, Haechan.”

He loosens his fingers from your hair, instead trailing the backs of his fingers along the line of your jaw. Then he says, “Back on the night I first kissed you, I told you I like you, and you never said it back.”

Your heart gives a strange lurch in your chest. That’s what he’s been thinking about? Does he think that you don’t like him too? What does he think this has all been about?

“So you never said it, and that’s fine.” Haechan’s fingers trail down over your shoulder. “You never said those words ‘I like you,’ but earlier, when you were cumming…. Did you mean it?”

Mean what? 

“It was the heat of the moment, so I get it if you didn’t really mean to say it.” Haechan pauses entirely, gazing down at you, searching your face. 

What had you said? You wrack your brain, trying to think back into that heated, hazy moment. You remember moaning as the wave of your orgasmic delirium pulled you under, but had there been words involved? You know how you were feeling in the moment, and if you’d put it into words you would have said—

You gasp a little. “Oh, I mean…” 

You hadn’t meant to say it. Not those words. You’d been feeling them for sure, but you hadn’t really articulated them, even to yourself. But now, you’re sitting here, wrapped in Haechan’s arms, having told him those three big words. 

You hadn’t meant to say them, yet you had said them. They were out there in the universe, ringing in Haechan’s mind enough that he was still thinking about them a few hours later. 

And you do feel that way. You know it. So is it the worst thing that you’d blurted them out during sex?

You nod, holding Haechan’s gaze. 

“I think I’m in love with you,” you tell him gently, haltingly, unsure of how he’ll receive the confession. 

Haechan’s features warm up, a bright smile appearing. “You sounded a lot more confident in that answer earlier. Will it make you more confident again if I just….” He leans in, and you turn your face more towards him. Haechan kisses you, his arms around you. This kiss is sweet and slow, the kind of kiss that makes you feel like spun sugar left out in a summer rain, dissolving a little more with every touch. 

Haechan lays you beneath him in the bed, his forehead against yours as he ends the kiss. Your name is just a sigh from his lips, and he brushes his nose against yours, then he tells you in a voice filled with tender certainty, “I love you.”

And again a moment later, “I love you,” and he kisses your nose. “I love you” with a kiss to your cheek. “I love you” with a kiss to the other cheek. Haechan kisses all over your face, punctuating each kiss with an “I love you” until your entire body is flush with heat, your heart beating fast, and your tongue is twisted around the words too, your mind moving too fast to be able to work with your tongue to tell Haechan confidently that you love him too. 

You capture his face between your hands, holding his cheeks in your palms, and you keep him there hovering right above you. 

“I love you. I’ve probably always been in love with you, honestly,” you say as you stroke your thumbs over his cheeks. “And if you keep kissing me and telling me you love me like this, you’re going to have to call me your girlfriend.”

Haechan laughs. “I do call you my girlfriend. Are you not calling me your boyfriend?”

Your face is definitely warm. “We hadn’t talked about it. I just tell people you’re…. You. You’re Haechan. My Haechan.”

He smiles. “I like that. Your Haechan.”

Fireworks burst beneath your skin when he kisses you again, when his hands and your hands begin to roam each other's bodies. You peel his shirt up and over his head. He rucks your shirt up beneath your tits. You just want to be skin to skin. You want to feel Haechan all over you. Everywhere inside and out. 

“Just so you know,” Haechan says after a while when you break apart again, things slowing down. “Your Haechan has been in love with you for a long time too. Longer than I was aware, I’m sure.” His thumbs stroke along your sides, and you shiver a little. Haechan just smiles, and says, “I’ve definitely loved you for years, and when that shifted from just loving you to being in love with you, I’m not sure. But I really love you. A ridiculous amount, honestly. You’re going to be sick of hearing me say it.”

Now you laugh, pulling his mouth back down to yours. 

The pair of you pass the words back and forth between the kisses. Exchanges of “I love you” that are so sickeningly sweet, going on until you’re too tired to kiss him any longer. You just lay your head down on his chest, both of you sunken into the warm, happy glow of your romance as he holds you in his arms. 

a/n: there was a time that I considered ending the story here, but there's still a bit more that I want to say, some more smutty scenes that I wanted to write! I hope the burn finally burning was good for you all! There's still more to come!

Also! The part where Haechan sings the song 'You In My Arms' is a song that he actually has covered a few years ago, and you can find it here

As usual, thoughts, comments, likes, reblogs, stream of consciousness-ing in the tags, all that stuff is always welcome and appreciated! Thank you for reading! Chapter 10 will be posted next Tuesday, and it's going to be from Y/N's pov again

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[sarcophagid]

sketches of yidhra and the gang

[ruins75]

stuff!

[loveshudder]

[pddngchi-artblog]

IDV drawing log - 01

Quick Yima and Luca doodle, practice sketches of Violetta and Nightmare, and some fun interaction between the two of them ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ nightmare looks like a stupid bird (which he is), but its so fun to main him as well as submain violetta

[yellow-artz]

New body edits ^

Old ones but I still like them v