#smut yeonjun

[kpopsexstories]

QUICK FIX #62: TXT Yeonjun Wet T-shirt Sex in a Bathroom on Set

Member: TXT Yeonjun

Content: You're Yeonjun's dance partner in a music video, and when he playfully pours a bottle of water over himself on set, the two of you sneak off to the bathroom for a quickie when no one's watching.

Type: WILD

Word Count: 2,027

This story is part of my Quick Fix Dirty Kpop Imagines series. Check it out for more x female reader smut and other groups and members.

Yeonjun poured a bottle of water over himself. The funny thing is you weren't even filming any longer when he did it.

The white t-shirt clung to his toned body and became see-through. You laughed at his sexy antics. In the months leading up to your suggestive one-on-one performance – to the music video of your career – you'd gotten quite close.

“Work is work,” he said and winked when a member of staff held up her phone. He was looking directly at it, indirectly talking to his fans, but you knew he was actually joking and flirting with you. “No need to be jealous.”

The phone disappeared and he smirked when your eye met. You stepped into his personal space and put a hand on that skinny but buff chest you'd gotten so used to being close to.

Then he nodded his head in the direction of the shared bathroom on set, and you got the hint and smiled.

He walked ahead, calm but with confidence. You glanced around the set, at all the staff being busy, before you followed several paces behind.

You knew exactly what the man had in mind, and sneaking away while on break felt exciting.

*****

Yeonjun locked the door and quickly took off his black jacket while you made out. The shirt, however, was so stuck to his body it was difficult to get it off even with your help.

It didn't matter. You could see and feel those abs well enough to be insanely turned on. The room was tiny, the toilet seat was in the way, but so what? To see your bodies pressed together and hands all over each other in the mirror made you horny as hell.

You quickly went for the button on your jeans. Yeonjun hunched down and kissed your breasts over the tiny top you were wearing. You both panted, abruptly consumed by lust, and the moment your pants came undone you took the top and pulled it over your chest.

Yeonjun stood back up and cupped your boob, while his lips went to town on your neck. “Don't leave a mark,” you moaned. Filming wasn't over yet.

“Don't worry,” he said between rapid breaths. “They'll love it.”

You chuckled at the thought. Imagine that, Yeonjun dancing with a girl who had a hickey. Moas all over the world would go insane.

“Ohh, yeah, take ‘em off,” you said and held your lover tight around the back. Your fingers dug into his shoulder blades over the wet shirt.

His lips returned to yours while he pulled his ass back. He undid the belt around his pants with speed, and you helped him by pushing down on the seams around his hips.

Within just a few hot seconds the pants slid to his thighs, and you instinctively went for his cock.

You massaged the bulge and erection through his underwear. Even they were wet, and it almost felt like he didn't have any on.

The boner was long and rock hard. It pointed to one side when you fingered it, pressed close to his body by the soaked fabric clinging around it.

You panted in his ear when he aligned his body with yours. The back of your legs hit the seat, and there was a loud bang when Yeonjun slammed the wall to keep you both from falling.

He took you by the waist and swirled you around. He shoved you hard against the wall, and when you opened your eyes you saw the reflection of your face on his shoulder, and the outline of his spine through the shirt.

You gave it another attempt to take it off him. He stepped away, his ass hitting the sink, to help you.

His torso was revealed, then his chest. You laughed a little too loudly when he got the shirt up to his neck and it got stuck over his face as he fought hard to get naked.

He finally succeeded. You undid your bra while you stared at his pecs and abs, and those slim and bony shoulders of his. Then he took aim for your panties and shoved them down along with your jeans in one go, and the moment they hit the floor you spread your legs wide for him.

He pushed you back against the wall. He leaned down and stuck out his tongue, briefly licking your nipple while fondling your boob from the side with one hand.

Then he brought his ass back in, pulled down his own underwear, and the squeezed and throbbing cock you loved so much was released.

You felt it poke around between your legs. Yeonjun wasn't the only one who was wet. He soon penetrated you in the tiny bathroom, and you simply couldn't keep your hands off each other

All those months of practicing and working hard had led to these amazing sexual encounters, and today was simultaneously just another fuck and the culmination of it all, as the end of the music video would also mean the end of your professional relationship.

You felt every muscle and bone on his front as it press against you. And when the head stretched your lips and the shaft was pushed all the way in, you closed your eyes and exhaled slowly.

“Ahh!” you squealed, but quickly silenced yourself. Yeonjun, however, was so horny and full of desire he didn't even try to hold back.

He grabbed you by the hips and held you up, pinned against the wall. He began to thrust while his lips and tongue explored your shoulder, neck and the side of your face. You occasionally turned to kiss him on the lips, but the most convenient position was to keep facing the mirror.

Sex with him was always amazing. You opened your eyes while he fucked you and your hands on his back jumped around. His cute ass kept moving and flexing in the mirror.

He began to grunt audibly beside you. Your heads and hands stopped moving so much, but the great sensation in your groins only grew.

“Ahh!” you exclaimed again, and this time you didn't feel so worried someone might hear, because he was the star of the show and didn't seem to care.

What was anybody going to do anyway? Fire either of you? You knew that was never going to happen.

Yeonjun's hands on your thighs and ass became firmer. His arms flexed as he held you, and your spread your legs around his body as wide as you could.

Your back was repeatedly slammed against the wall. You clung on around the man's neck for dear life, while he fucked you good right there on set.

His hair was still wet but his body became more and more dry by the second. Maybe it was the air, maybe the moisture was sucked up by the straining activity, but with each thrust and each time one of your hands returned down his back, his skin felt a little drier and smoother.

The dick went in and out of your pussy at a steady and passionate pace. The way it filled you and rubbed your insides turned the passion into a simultaneously energy-consuming and relaxing sensation. And the deeper he went with each thrust, and the wider his thick shaft spread your lips each time the angle shifted a little, the greater said sensation became.

“Ahh, yeah, fuck me!” you said in half a whisper, half a scream. It was the kind of silenced moan dripping in deafening desire only a great sexual connection under circumstances that required you to be quiet could produce.

Yeonjun's grunts became louder. He nibbled on your ear while shoving you hard against the wall again and again, and you slammed a hand against the surface behind you in pure ecstasy.

“Uuhrgh, grrhmpf, hmm-mm!” he growled and heaved.

“Ahh, yeah, yees!” your high-pitched voice repeated.

You raised your legs higher, lifting both feet from the floor. You wrapped them around Yeonjun's thighs and cute ass, while he held you harder to keep you from slipping out of his grasp. And the moment you opened your eyes and looked in the mirror again, the great sensation in your groin exploded and you came all over his cock.

This time, you didn't scream. You didn't even breathe. You let the orgasm consume you and escape almost completely silently from your open mouth, while you stared wide-eyed at the hot show in the reflection.

Yeonjun was relieved that you came so quickly. He could barely keep it in himself any longer. The way your wet folds licked his cock felt incredible, and as soon as he realized the intense and amazing rush going through your body, he let it all out and allowed himself to come too.

The grunt he released when he came was the loudest one. He pushed himself so hard against you that your body stopped slamming against the wall, instead being pinned so tight between it and him.

You felt the release when his cock throbbed deep inside you. Your own high was still going strong when he shot his load, and the head and shaft became drenched and lubricated against your soft and slippery walls.

He shoved hard several more times, each push abrupt but slower than the last. Your heart felt full and your muscles relaxed when he emptied himself and your orgasm faded. And when you were both done, his head collapsed on your shoulder, and his bare chest rested against your breasts.

Your legs slid down along his sides. You eased your grip around his neck. His skin was warm and soft, and you chipped for air as your body worked hard to regain some strength.

“Ohhh, wow, holy shit you're good,” you exhaled and tried to hold your lover upright.

He pulled back slightly and the dick fell out. Then he let out a low laugh when he finally managed to look up and face you.

His hair clung to his sides. You giggled and brushed it away from his eyes. Then you kissed, panting into each other's mouths, as you stood naked and spent in the tiny bathroom.

“Mmm,” he exhaled before coming in to kiss you again. His plump lips stuck to yours and held on to them for as long as possible when he pulled back.

The man was sexy, a great fuck, sweet and adorable. He was caring but also wild and raw. You knew the energy between you would translate on camera, and that the connection you had would last beyond work.

Whether anyone knew or not that you were in that bathroom together, you hoped the video would be a success.

You kept giggling as you gently pushed the man away. “We have to get back,” you said and he smiled when he tried to keep kissing you.

You were right though and he knew it. As soon as his dick was starting to soften he grabbed a paper towel and began to dry his body with it. There was no point, because the shirt was still soaked, but maybe it would make it a little easier to put it back on.

You fought for space as you got dressed. Yeonjun stroke your front and grabbed your boob one last time with a big grin on his face, before you covered up with your bra. And you let your hand glide down his chest and playfully grabbed his soft cock and balls, before he too covered up and it was time to get out.

He took a moment to fix the black jacket and his hair in the mirror, then put a hand on the lock and looked at you. “Ready?” he asked and you nodded.

There was a click and he opened the door quickly like he was ripping off a band aid. You followed him out real fast, to minimize the risk of being seen.

Not that it mattered. All that mattered was that you kept all that sexual tension on camera. Maybe everybody already knew, because you and Yeonjun couldn't even hide it if you tried.

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[heemunch]

your name? ─── c.yj

SUMMARY ⭒ you, a lethal assassin, are sent to kill a high profile target. you’re staying on task, until you find yourself tangled in a dance with yeonjun—a rival from another assassin agency. same mark, same mission, but it turns into a game of who breaks first.

PAIRING ⭒ yeonjun x f!reader, dom!yeonjun, assassin!au

WARNINGS ⭒ weapons, guns, knives, blood, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, dry humping, hand job, edging, praise, begging, biting, teasing, pet names, hand in hair

WORD COUNT ⭒ 3.9k

THE CHANDELIERS DRIP gold onto a room full of liars. It dimly lit the dance floor, and the room glimmered with couples twirling in elegant attire. The air crackles with intrigue. Masked figures engage in hushed conversations, yet the ballroom booms with noise. You adjust your mask—which was both silky and knife-sharp at the edges. You were at this masked gala event for a charity event, but you were really there to kill Kim Seojoon. He was in his early 40s as a CEO of a company, and your agency assigned you to kill him. The only reason being was that he was a hard target—already surviving two attempted assassinations. It was clear your agency wanted him gone but he wouldn’t budge.

The air reeked of champagne. As you glide through the crowd, your eyes stay fixed on Kim Seojoon—your kill. The CEO laughs a little too loud at his own joke, clueless that tonight’s entertainment includes a silent bullet with his name on it. You adjust your gloves that blend way too well with your dress. You were calculating the best angle to—

“Mind if we dance?”

A voice purrs in your ear. Way too close. You turn—and there he is: sharp jawline half-hidden behind a black mask, lips curled in amusement as he watches Seojoon. Not you, at least not yet. His stance was relaxed. A slow smirk tugs at your lips. You two were way too far to Seojoon, and it was the perfect disguise to inch closer to him. You find yourself murmuring, “I don’t normally dance,” even as you let him lead you towards the dance floor. Closer to Seojoon. The lights dim and the music changes to a sultry, almost languid tune. One of your hands was held in his, the other resting just above your holster.

This was way too casual for you. “What’s your name?” The question rolls off your tongue and you receive a little smile from the man. His grip on your hip never falters once, and the mask of his makes it impossible to get a clear read on his expression. His eyes glint in the chandelier light. “Does it matter?” he counters, pulling you smoothly into a dance. Your steps sync almost effortlessly. You take your chance as he whirls you closer. “Maybe not,” you reply, your voice low.

His grip tightens as he pulls you closer—close enough to whisper: “Names are for people who plan to stay alive.” A threat, or a challenge? Your pulse spikes anyway. The music swells as he dips you low, mask-to-mask, and your thigh brushes his. Your hidden gun presses cold between his ribs through fabric. “Just a joke,” he pulls you back up. The hard muscles of his frame were hard not to stare at, the way they looked through the material of his suit. “You haven’t told me yours either, sweetheart,” his breath ghosted against your ear.

A shiver runs up your spine, but you can’t tell if it’s from the way he called you sweetheart or the feeling that this man—whoever he is—knows more than he lets on. Your voice comes out cool, measured. “I don’t give out my name to every handsome stranger I meet. Especially to ones who sweep me off my feet without notice.” He chuckles at your response, low and smooth as he spins you out before reeling you back in. His hand on your waist tightens slightly.

”Swept off your feet, huh?” He repeats, a hint of amusement in his voice. His fingers skim the bare skin of your back, sending a jolt of heat through your body. “I like to think of it as.. being thorough.” You tilt your head, studying his half-hidden face, wondering just how much thoroughness he’s capable of. The way he moves, the confidence in his every gesture. All of it screams “predator.”

“Thorough, is it?” You move with him in a graceful step, bodies brushing against each other with an electrifying mixture of tension and restraint. He nods, his grip on you tightening as he draws you closer. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, almost see the tension coiled beneath his flawless mask and tailored suit. “Thorough enough to know a few things.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance despite the adrenaline that began to hum in your veins. “Like what?”

”Like the fact that you’re not some pretty, hidden face who came here for the free champagne,” he leaned in, his voice was a rough whisper against your ear, his hand skimming up your back. You gulp something back down your throat. “You’re here for something more.”

As you swallow, the music and the crowd fade away to a distant hum. All you can focus on is the press of his body against yours—and you were losing focus of your mission. Yet, the dangerous gleam in his eyes behind the mask was so addicting. “And what makes you so sure of that?” You manage.

His mouth curves into another half-smile, sharp and lethal. “The way you hold yourself..how your eyes search the room.” He spins you out again, the dance was starting to become more of a game than a rhythmic motion. “Tell me, what are you here for, darling?”

You let out a soft, practiced laugh—light and airy, the perfect illusion of someone who belongs at this party for nothing more than champagne and flirtation. “Don’t I make it obvious?” You trail a finger down his tie with deliberate slowness. “A girl can multitask, you know. So, answer this, and I’ll answer you. What made you come up to me for a dance?”

His grip tightens almost imperceptibly on the hem of your dress, but his smirk doesn’t change at the slightest. “Well, well. A woman who not only knows how to dance, but also knows how to play the game,” he whispers, his eyes holding something that looked similar to arousal. “As for why I chose you?” The music shifts once more. He adjusted his grip on you, and you could feel the slightest movement through the thin silk of your dress. “Curiosity killed the cat, I can admit.”

You’re able to feel the press of his concealed blade against your chest as he leans in—close enough that his breath trails over your lips when he speaks. “And I hate unanswered questions.”

The threat is velvet-wrapped but sharp as a razor’s edge. The hand on your hip drifts lower, fingertips brushing where your own gun rests—hidden beneath layers of delicate fabric. A silent, but dangerous acknowledgement washes over him: he knows.

You had the chance to twist away. Maybe the chance to shoot him mid-step. But instead—you laugh, soft and mocking, as if this is all some delightful game. It was life or death. “Careful,” you hush back, “Or I’ll start thinking you’re here for more than just dancing.”

He chuckles faintly, the sound sending a shiver down your whole body. “Oh, I can guarantee that dancing is the furthest thing from my mind, now that you’re in front of me.”

Each word is a challenge wrapped up in a mocking croon. Your heart thuds in your chest, and you can barely hear the music over the blood rushing in your ears. Every nerve and instinct is yelling for you to pull away, but you don’t. A part of you is tempted to let him win this game, just to see where this dance leads. You felt like a rabbit caught in a hunter’s snare—and you’re not sure whether you want to fight or to let yourself surrender to his soft touch.

In the middle of your anticipation, the dance ends—too soon—and before you can react, his fingers are laced through yours in a mockingly gentle hold. “Let’s discuss what’s hidden underneath your dress,” he murmured, brushing his hand against the handle of the small gun. His voice is all polite against his suggestion, but his grip on your hand is sharp. Did he mean your gun, or something more?

You let him lead you away from the glittering crowd, past servers with trays of untouched champagne—until suddenly he pivots sharply into a shadowed corridor lined with unmarked doors. Your instincts scream to grab your gun, but then—

“Trust me,” he breathes against your ear as one door clicks open beneath his palm. The low light inside reveals an office. Leather sofa and chairs, discarded files, and a heavy desk that would bruise beautifully if shoved against it.

His smirk is wicked as he pulls you inside and kicks the door shut behind you both—trapping predator and prey in equal measure when your gun presses to his ribs at the same moment the blade of his knife grazes your throat. If you gulp, or even let a sharp exhale out, it’d cut you. The noise from the main ballroom disappears—sealing out the rest of the world and leaving you two isolated in the office with nothing in between you but the harsh thrum in your veins.

He pulls you with him as he leans back against the desk, shifting so that it presses against your hips—not quite pinning you in place, but enough to make the adrenaline spike in your whole body. You both were playing fire here, and the room suddenly feels far too small for the tension crackling in the air like fire.

”No clever comments, this time?” he muses, his eyes dancing with amusement as he toys with the edge of the sleeve of your pretty dress. His fingers trace the blade at your throat at a slow and deliberate pace, before he suddenly flips it closed with a click and tosses it onto the desk behind him. “Your move.”

You shove your gun into his stomach hard enough to make him grunt.. it aroused you. Then his hand snakes around your wrist, yanking you flush against him so fast that your breath hitches. the desk digs into your thighs as he leans down, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Do you want me to disarm you first, pretty woman?”

The heat between you builds a fever-pitch as he crowds into your space—all hard lines and lean muscle pressed against your own slim body, it’s intoxicating. The way your body responds to him without your permission. Your skin craves more of his feel, then way his breathing stutters when your hands tighten on his wrists. His eyes darken as he stares down at you. “Tell me you don’t want this,” he growls, “and I’ll let you go.”

”Maybe I don’t want you to let go.” Your own words startle you, a low strangled rasp that sounds like you’re confessing a sin. He freezes, eyes widening in some nameless emotion before they narrow in a mix of amusement and something else—it looks an awful lot of desire. “Did you just admit that? Interesting.”

You throw the gun you were trembling with seconds ago onto the desk behind you. He watches as the gun skitters across the top of the desk, exactly where he wanted it. His hand drifts up to your hair, then your jaw. His fingers tilting your chin up until your eyes meet his. You two were so close that you could smell the sharp, masculine edge of his cologne.

You don’t have time to react as he grips your hips—rough, almost brutal with need—and slams you onto the desk. Wood creaks in protest as his body cages yours. His thighs were pressing between yours almost on instinct. Your gasp is swallowed by his mouth as he leans in to claim a kiss you hadn’t even known you were desperate for. He tastes like sin and danger, and your body arches up against him, wanting more of it.

His fingers tighten in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss as if he’s starving for the taste of you. His free hand takes your mask off, “What a beautiful woman,” he releases his lips from your mouth for just a second to whisper. You bite his lip in retaliation, hard enough to draw blood, and he groans against your mouth. His hand slides under your thigh to hike it around his waist, carrying you over to the couch.

He places you on top of his lap, the back of the leather sofa digging into his back as you press closer, grinding against the bulge in his lap with fiction that makes heat pool low in both of your stomachs. His breath hitches when you rake nails down his back through fabric.

”Tell me,” he murmurs against your bruised lips, voice wrecked already— “your name?”

Your fingers tangle in his hair, yanking his head back to expose the line of his throat. He groans as you tell him your name and took his mask off for him, wondering if the word went through one ear and out the other. “Now you tell me yours,” you breathe against his pulse, feeling it jump under your lips.”

He laughs—dark, ragged—before crushing his mouth back to yours with force. The sofa creaked beneath you both as he pins your wrist down towards his lap, nipping at the sensitive skin below your ear. “It’s Yeonjun,” he admits against your jaw like a confession.

His hand slides up your thigh, unhurried and pausing just shy of where you need him the most. He felt the way you were soaked up against your underwear. “Say the word,” he says against your collar once, teeth grazing the frantic pulse there. “I’ll stop.”

You arch into his touch, moaning a small “Yeonjun,” already, with your nails biting crescents into his shoulders as his smirk burns against your skin.

”Fuck..” Yeonjun’s breath stutters against your skin when you say his name, the name that no one at this gala should know. His pupils dilate, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. “Say it again, sweetheart.” His voice was rough with something wilder than desire.

You whisper his name like a prayer against his lips before biting down on his lower lip until he groans. The hand between your thighs finally gives you what you want, sliding beneath the soft and wet fabric with devastating precision as he growls. Yeonjun almost moans at how tight you are against his fingers, wondering how you felt around him hard. “You’re so wet..” he scoffed, “We barely had any foreplay.”

“Sh— shut up..” You could barely make out those words. His answering grin is blasphemous as you bite back a moan when his teeth tug at your lips, refusing to reward him for his arrogance. He adds a third finger that has you gasping in spite of yourself, curling all three that hits your spot perfectly. “Yeonjun!” You yell, having to throw your own hand against your mouth. “Ngh— harder..” You buried your head in his neck, as if you knew him longer than this moment.

”That’s it baby..” he growls, sucking at your neck. “I want to hear that. How else will I know if I’m doing it right?” Yeonjun’s words are a dark purr against your skin as he marks you, but you swear you can feel the shiver that ran down his spine as you shouted his name in pleasure. He knew he was pushing you—teasing the line between pain and pleasure until neither of you were sure where it lay. “You can take more, can’t you?” he asks, knowing the answer. “I know you can.”

Yeonjun swirls his fingers around your soft, wet pussy. You’re already at the edge. “Oh my.. god—” You whimpered. He realized how teasing he was already. “Okay, that’s enough,” he lifted your head with his free hand, making eye contact with you. “Let me reward that pretty face of yours, baby.”

Yeonjun’s praise is rough, edged with worship as he pulls his fingers free, just to watch your needy little gasp, eyes almost tearing up at the feeling of him pulling away from you. “Don’t cry, you’re being such a good girl.” The world tilts as he manhandles both your hands to his belt, signaling for you to unbuckle it for him.

Your fingers tremble against the leather of his belt, the weight of his gaze burning through you as you fumble with the buckle—too slow for his liking—but you were still out of it from the effect he had on you seconds ago.

”Hurry, pretty lady,” his thumb swipes at your lower lip in a mockery of tenderness. “Or do I need to show you how it’s done?”

The belt finally gives way, and before you can react, Yeonjun’s hand is back in your hair—tight, commanding. “Prove to me why I shouldn’t regret this.”

You almost—almost—whimper at the command, the sound strangled in your throat as you swallow hard. He’s so dominant, so demanding, that you want to put your hands around his neck to refuse to be controlled.

There’s a tension in the air that makes the air sliceable as he stares up at you—a single question in the heated look in his eyes: “Are you going to refuse?”

Your sharp gaze seems to cut something in him. He wants you to refuse, he craves to see exactly how far he can push you—to see if you’ll push back, or if you’ll submit.

”You’re the one on top of me,” Yeonjun admits. Your breath catches in your chest as another beat passes, neither of you blinking. You wonder if he can feel the way you shiver. How your throat goes dry at the thought of his control.

Either way, you pull down both his boxers and pants in one go. His hard dick springs up against his stomach and you take a glance, long enough to memorize each vein that you craved for to destroy your insides. Yeonjun let out a low gasp that only lasted for a fraction of a second. He lets out a low, dark laugh. “Eager, are we?”

”I am,” You nod, taking off your gloves and putting one of your hands barely around half his neck, then your dominant hand around his dick. You could barely hold it, the girth of him surprising you. He lets out a soft groan of your name. “Mmh..”

Yeonjun’s breathing is ragged now, the sound intensifying as you twist your hand up and down. He’s hard, and just the contact makes the world spin for him. “God.. that’s good.” He exhaled, “Faster… ghh!”

His eyes lock with yours, and you can see the battle raging inside him—the struggle to maintain the upper hand while his own body responds with an intensity he can’t control. You bring his dick to your opening, teasing him. He moans out your name, loud. “Please..!” Yeonjun begs, and you let out an evil scoff under your breath. “I need you.” His control was shattering beneath him.

Then, curses tear from his throat as you take him into you, warm and wet, perfect around him. You both moan as his fingers pull at your hair, your nails digging into his back. You both were clinging onto each other as if you were the only things keeping each other grounded. “Shit— shit.. Mm! So good, so warm..” Yeonjun pulls you into several pecks of kisses, feeling way more intimate than it should.

His hips jerk instinctively, but he stops himself last second with a shuddering exhale. “Don’t stop.” The order is more of a plea than a demand now—voice wrecked beyond recognition as his free hand grips the material of the sofa beneath him until his knuckles turn white. As you bounce on him, the sound of your wetness against him, the slapping of your delicate skin against his, and both of your whimpers echo against the room. The couch sounded as if it was going to collapse between the both of you.

The world around you narrows down to this moment. The desperate need that burns through your veins like molten fire. You’re both teetering on the edge now, so close it hurts—and Yeonjun hates that he can’t keep control anymore, that you pushed him to the brink. He was never that easy to push. It was something about you.

His eyes are feral now, dark with a hunger that could devour you whole, And when he speaks, it’s low and as wrecked as his grip on you. When you pull him out of you, he lets out a cry, “I—I said don’t stop..”

“I’m not,” you kiss him on the lips. When you reach down to feel his dick, rubbing it softly, then intensifying with speed: he moans louder. “Fuck!” Yeonjun grips your thigh, hoping it’d stop him from releasing. “Stop—”He begged. “Let me..” He groaned, unable to finish his sentence. “Shit.. Let me fill you up, damnit…” Yeonjun says quickly, he was at the edge.

“Do it,” your whisper was rough with desire, laced with something dangerous. His control snaps like a thread when you jerk him faster. A broken groan tears from his throat as he yanks you back down onto him, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise. The feeling of you around him meets his senses again and you both let a cry slip.

He was already big enough that just one single slip inside—and your g-spot was already being pleased. Yeonjun grips your ass under your dress, moving you up and down, harsher each time. “Ngh..!” You cry, “You feel— so good, Yeonjun.. Mmm..”

”I’m so close!” Yeonjun throws his head back onto the couch, feeling his senses tingling. “Cum with me, baby.. Fuck,” The words are a desperate gasp, and you swear you see tears in his eyes—this strong, fierce man was unraveling beneath you in a way you never thought possible. You can practically feel him shaking now, the tension winding tighter and tighter like a coiled spring just before it snaps.

“Mmhh!” The world whites out for both of you—Yeonjun’s release hot and deep inside you while your nails rake bloody crescents down his chest. He could feel your release all around him.

You collapse against his chest, both of you breathless and spent. Yeonjun strokes your hair in absentminded motions as he regains his composure, his expression carefully changing to indifference but for the lingering heat in his eyes. The tension is still there as you both release from each other, still wanting more.

For a split second, all the masks are gone. He’s vulnerable, raw, real; he looks so damn beautiful. It’s only when he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the barest brush of his thumb that the air shifts back into acting.

Yeonjun pulls your head down, catching your mouth in a long, deep kiss—his tongue tangling with yours like he’s trying to memorize the feel of your mouth. He pulls away after a moment, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

When the both of you open your mouths to say something, the chime of the clock outside echoes like a gunshot through the room. Both of you freeze—chests still heavy and skin still fever hot. Reality crashes back in with brutal force, and you both put your undergarments and clothes back on.

You roll off Yeonjun, reaching for your discarded weapons with hands that almost don’t tremble. His blade glints coldly in the dim light as he tucks it back into his sleeve, all traces of vulnerability gone like it never existed.

The last thing you feel before slipping out the door is Yeonjun’s soft fingers brushing yours as he passes you back your loaded gun. “Let’s do this again sometime.”

5-53pm © 2025

[writingzen]

Let’s Play ♡‧ ⁺彡

✧ pairing- soobin x 6TH!member x yeonjun.

✧ summary- soobin punishment was just supposed to be a quick hand kiss.

✧ warnings- txt 6th member, sexual tensuon, teasing, jealousy, making a very small punishment bigger, etc

✧ A/N- got this idea when I saw the boyz kiss punishment with Juyeon in that one video yk? But yea, enjoy :)

You takes his hand into yours gently, fingers rubbing softly over his as you pull his hand close to your lips. Though it was supposed to just be a normal hand kiss quick and done, you drag it out. Starting at his fingers, trailing your lips leisurely along each knuckle, a light “muah” sound following every lazy peck before lingering over the top of his hand.

A high blush flushes his cheeks, a warm care spreading across his rose pink face as he forces his gaze away from yours, glancing at everything and anything in his view but you. His shyness only added to your fuel, making him look more adorable than ever, more easy to tease and mess with.

You call out his name softly causing a tingle to run down his spine, your breath fanning against his knuckles, “soobin” his eyes flutters before he finds the courage to turn his head to you, his gaze focused on the ground, too embarrassed to actually look you in the eyes.

“Mhm” he responds in a whisper

The corner of your lips rising into a smirk, “look at me” you says softly, voice dipped in honey as it drifts towards his ears. Your words makes him shiver, enjoying them more than he thought he would, making him feel so so special.

His gaze finally locks with yours for what seemed like forever to him but not enough for you before repeating his same nervous actions once again, eyes bouncing from different objects around the room. You can’t help the way your smile widens at his adorable reactions, lips still lingering over his hand “soobin~” you repeats his name, taking it apart slowly like your learning it for the first time, like you can’t think of a better word. This time his eyes drown into yours, your intoxicating gaze piercing through his body as he waits for your next move. His gaze focusing on you and only you as you finally press your lips against the top of his hand, laying a soft yet seductive kiss on him before taking your time to pull away. You look up at him through lidded eyes as you flash him a lazy smile, making him melt like icecream at such an innocent sight.

His ears paint with a deep red as he finally looks away. He can’t help the nagging thoughts in the back of his head, feeling stupid for being so enthralled with just a small kiss yet in a mix of emotions, he hoped for it to never end, feeling like you gifted him a present too precious. For a second he forgets it’s not only you two in the room thinking such naughty thoughts, he forgets it’s supposed to be a punishment because of a game he lost. Though in either case, he would never think of it as such.

As you turn away from him, ending your turn of the punishment, a smile still plasters on your face as you look over at the person you were really putting the show on for. With a tense jaw and twitching muscles yeonjun’s gaze locks with yours, eyes cutting through your accomplishments. In an instance your heart speeds and your being becomes liquid, you swear your legs could melt any second, dropping you to your knees in surrender but you act as if he has no effect on you at all. Ignoring all the signs and still on your feet, you send him a wink, adding more pressure to his anger, before turning to the cameras, knowing he can do absolutely nothing while the camera is still rolling, filming what’s supposed to be just another to do episode. At the end this was just supposed to be a punishment for soobin because of his loss, yet deep down, he knows you did it for him.

Yeonjun takes no time settling his thoughts before taking his place behind you, pushing beomgyu out the way in a quick movement with no grace nor hesitation, causing a whine to leave the boys lips as he lightly slaps his shoulder though he doesn’t force him to move from his place, yeonjun wouldn’t care less if he did.

He lets out a chuckle, paying no attention to the tension in the air, his hand caresses his jaw, calming himself down. “My turn”

He takes soobin’s hand gently yet he could still feel the rough touch yeonjun didn’t forget to add before his eyes meets yours once again, sending you a thousand messages with just one look, a smirk playing on his lips as he continues the supposed punishment for soobin, with every intention to end the punishment with you and only you.

“Let’s play”