synopsis: the guy of your dreams finally asks you on a date. the problem? you've barely had your first kiss—and he looks like he definitely knows what he's doing. panicking, you ask the campus resident playboy, choi yeonjun, for lessons. strictly practical. no feelings. no strings. except yeonjun isn't as experienced as everyone thinks.
✧ pairing: playboy student!choi yeonjun x student!reader
✧ genre/warnings: explicit sexual content (smut with plot, 18+ mdni), rom-com, college au, sexual exploration, coming of age, fwb, teaching trope, sexual themes & sexting, clumsy intimacy, love triangle-ish, smoking, alcohol/party settings, in chapter warnings to apply
✧ total word count: est. 35k~
✧ status: completed
✧ playlist | main masterlist
⊹ ࣪ ˖ index
teaser
lesson one
lesson two
lesson three
epilogue
read on wattpad
review your experience, thoughts, or unhinged feelings here
The sexual tension between user filmsbyun and the 'one-bed' trope is a phenomenon that clearly deserves serious study. Because of my borderline obsession with this delightfully silly trope, I’ve put together a series of five charming one-bed scenarios, each featuring a TXT member. Buckle up, pretties, because this winter is about to get very, very heated... probably. Sorry I'm not used to commentaries chat </3
STATUS: ONGOING
Midnight Spirit || Choi Soobin
⤷ You visit a remote mountain village for a once-in-a-decade lantern festival, a week-long celebration of “paired spirits” where visitors are matched with local guides. Yours is a reserved man, content to walk beside you through the nights without intruding. As the final midnight approaches, tradition requires each pair to share a resting space until dawn to keep wandering spirits at bay. He assures you he won’t cross a line unless you choose otherwise.
Borrowed Walls || Choi Yeonjun
⤷ Your apartment’s being renovated, leaving you without a place to stay for the night. Your childhood friend says you can crash at his place and the catch is he shares it with a flatmate. You weren’t planning on saying yes but it’s the safest and the most reasonable option you have.
Snowbound Affairs || Choi Beomgyu
⤷ A blizzard strands your train in the middle of nowhere, and the only inn with a room left has one bed. You don’t hesitate to book it with the charming stranger who’s been keeping you company.
Corporate Misalignment || Kang Taehyun
⤷ You’ve spent months convinced your impossibly handsome coworker hates you by the way he talks to everyone but you. A “mix-up” by your friends forces you to share a room on a work trip to “fix the tension”. That’s when you find out he’s not cold; he’s hopelessly in love with you and has no idea how to act around you.
Late Session || Huening Kai
⤷ You meet him at an evening writing class where you’re both regular attendees, and what begins as polite formalities dissolves into a friendship so natural that by week four, your classmates assume you’re flirting; you’re not, but also you are. When a transit strike leaves you stranded after the late class across the city, he offers his apartment for the night.
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pairings: Taehyun x fem!reader
summary: Training with your best friend’s brother was supposed to be harmless. You having a crush on him since high school wouldn't make a difference, right?
word count: 7.5K
tags: smut, lots of teasing, taehyun is lowkey a little shit
warnings: dom!taehyun, sub!reader, fingering, unprotective sex, multiple orgasms, praise kink, pet names (pretty, princess, baby), overstimulation, manhandling, power play, mild degradation, creampie, scratching, confident!taehyun, (barely proofread)
a/n: I had so much fun writing this, and it all started bc of that one video of taehyun arm-wrestling with that moa looking all unbothered like fuckkkk
Masterlist
“I need a summer body before the actual summer hits,” you whined, head tipping back against the cushion. “Right now, I feel like a soft peach—but not the cute kind. More like the slowly rotting one forgotten at the bottom of a—”
“Y/n,” Seoyun snorted, “You are cute! You don’t need to change anything.”
You and your best friend were sprawled out on her living room couch, a random show playing on the TV long forgotten as you both lazily scrolled through your phones, worn out from the day’s activities, until you spiraled down the rabbit hole of social media—staring at perfect bodies of perfect women with perfect smiles in the most perfect vacation spots.
You placed your phone with a soft thud down on the couch before looking at her, sighing dramatically. “But I want to feel confident in a crop top—and not like I’m going to pass out after only one flight of stairs.”
She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips at your antics. “So, go to the gym?” she shrugged, glancing back at her phone.
“But the gym is, like, terrifying. And full of… gym people,” you groaned, tipping your head back against the cushion again, eyes squeezed shut. The thought of being surrounded by sweaty, grunting people who actually knew what they were doing while you looked like a lost lamb in a wolf’s den sent shivers down your spine in a bad way
Though if you were being honest, the biggest reason you wouldn’t dare step foot in a gym was the very real chance of running into Kang Taehyun. It was already bad enough that you had to see him whenever your best friend invited you over—he was, after all, her older brother. And seeing him sweaty and focused, muscles flexing as he probably bench-pressed hundreds of kilos with ease? Yeah. No, thank you. Just the thought made your cheeks flush.
You were so deep in thought—more like drooling over Taehyun—that you didn’t hear the thud of a duffel bag hitting the floor or the squeak of sneakers on the hardwood.
“Gym people, huh?” came a low voice—dry and amused.
Your head snapped up. And there he was, standing right in front of you.
Kang Taehyun. Your best friend’s older brother.
Wearing a sleeveless black shirt clinging to his chest and shoulders, damp with sweat. His grey joggers slung dangerously low on his hips as he pushed his hair back. A water bottle still in his hand, headphones dangling from around his neck. He looked like he walked straight out of your… deeply repressed dreams.
You sat up straighter on instinct. His gaze slid over you, casual as ever, as your blush deepened even further. Realizing what you’d just said, your lips parted, an apology already tumbling out—before he interrupted.
“I mean, if you are serious about hitting the gym but don’t want to deal with those gym people, you could tag along with me next time.”
You blinked. Did he just—
“I go every day anyway,” he added with a small shrug. “Wouldn’t be a big deal. Unless you think I'm one of those gym people.”
“N-No, it’s okay, really,” you started, waving your hands a little too fast. He’d be sweaty. Up close. Focused on you. “I don’t wanna, like, mess with your routine or anything. That’d be so—”
“Wait, that’s actually perfect!” Seoyun cut in, practically bouncing in place. “You’ve been talking about getting started forever, and who better than my brother? He could totally coach you.” Completely unaware of the crush you’d been nursing since you were fifteen, your best friend beamed, while you could only stare back—utterly at a loss for words. How were you supposed to get out of this without sounding stupid?
Taehyun’s mouth twitched in the faintest smirk as he caught your silence. “I’ll text you,” he said simply, before turning down the hallway.
–
You hesitated just outside the gym’s entrance. Taehyun was already inside as the ‘I’m here :)’ text sent at 9:51 stared back at you. It was 9:57 now, which meant you had been pacing the sidewalk for a whole six minutes. The chilly wind did nothing to cool your overheated nerves, knowing who was waiting for you inside.
Another vibration of your phone snapped you out of your trance.
Tyun: are you going to stop pacing and come in, or do I need to drag your ass here myself?
Your eyes widened as you read the message. Looking up, you spotted him already watching through the window, waving with a grin. Embarrassed, you resisted the urge to smack yourself in the forehead. Instead, you managed a weak, awkward wave back before forcing yourself toward the doors.
Pushing them open, you were immediately hit with the smell of metal and rubber mats, the clink of weights, and the low grunts of people who all looked like they knew exactly what they were doing—unlike you.
Meanwhile, Taehyun strolled over with calm confidence. Swiping his card, he glanced up, lips curving faintly at your frozen stance. “You look like a deer caught in the headlights,” he teased before walking ahead.
You scrambled to follow, clutching your bag tighter. “I’m sorry, I just… don’t know what to do and—”
“I do,” he cut you off smoothly. He popped his locker open with his wristband, then gestured for you to put your bag inside. Right, of course he knew what to do—Taehyun practically lived here.
As you stepped closer to stash your things, the scent of his cologne wrapped around you. Your hands froze, brain short-circuiting as you realized how close he was—close enough for his breath to graze your cheek as he leaned casually against the door. Heart hammering, you fumbled out your water bottle and towel before retreating a full step back, face flushed. He was already grinning at you when he swung the locker shut, not breaking eye contact.
“Shall we?”
Following Taehyun to the back of the gym, you watched him grab two rubber mats and place them down in front of you. “We’re going to start with stretches to warm up, so you don’t pull any muscles later.”
Get your body warm, he said? You’d been inside with Taehyun for all of ten minutes, and your whole body already felt like it was on fire. Didn’t they usually blast the AC in these places?
“Copy me.”
So you did. Badly.
Taehyun folded himself easily into lunges and bends, his movements fluid and sure, while you tried not to topple over. Within minutes, you were yet again not sure if the sweat dripping down your neck was from being so out of shape… or from him. The way his shirt clung when he stretched his arms overhead, the faint sheen of sweat already glistening on his neck — it did more to your heart rate than any cardio could.
“Alright,” he said after a while, standing up and grabbing a pair of dumbbells. “We’ll start simple.”
He demonstrated a clean curl, biceps flexing, veins tracing down his forearms. He wasn’t even showing off — just focused, his voice calm as he explained the movement. And you tried to pay attention. You really did. But your eyes betrayed you, fixed on the way his muscles shifted under his skin.
“Y/N?”
You blinked. “Huh?”
His head tilted slightly, amusement glimmering in his eyes. “Did you get that?”
Your brain screamed no, but your mouth betrayed you with a quick, awkward nod. “Uh—yeah. Totally.”
The corner of his mouth tugged upward into a knowing smirk, like he could see straight through you. “Good,” he murmured, handing you a much smaller pair of weights. “Show me, then.”
Your palms were sweaty before you even started lifting them. Not because the dumbbells were that heavy, he made sure to start you with lighter ones. But because his focus was fully on you now, as he crossed his arms, making his muscles pop out even more.
As you tried your best to mimic the movement you thought he’d shown you, the dumbbells started to wobble immediately, your form was stiff, and your elbows were sticking out too far.
“Not bad,” Taehyun said, shifting in front of you. His tone was smooth, almost encouraging, yet the smirk he still supported gave him away. “But not good either.” Your face heated. “I’m… trying.”
“I can tell.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice just slightly, the scent of his cologne wrapping around you once again — crisp cedarwood and warm amber with a trace of spice. “Relax your shoulders. You’re holding them like you’re about to fight somebody.”
You obeyed instantly, dropping your shoulders. He reached out then, the back of his knuckles brushing against your arm as he adjusted your elbow inward. It was the lightest touch, but it set off the fireworks in your stomach badly.
“Better,” he murmured, his eyes flicking up to yours for a heartbeat. You swallowed hard, desperately looking anywhere but his face — which, unfortunately, landed your gaze right on his broad, very-much-in-your-face chest.
“Focus, Y/N,” he couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice anymore, “Unless you’re planning to check me out the whole time,” making your jaw drop. “I—I wasn’t—”
The stammer in your voice drew a quiet chuckle from him, clearly enjoying himself. “Don’t worry. Happens all the time.” Mortified, you tried to correct your form, curling the dumbbells with shaky arms. He crouched slightly, bringing his gaze level with yours, watching every movement closely — that knowing smirk never leaving his lips. “You’re nervous,” he said matter-of-factly, tilting his head.
“No, I’m not!” you blurted, a little too fast, which only made his smile deepen. Leaning in, he let his voice drop low, close enough for his scent to wrap around you completely. “Sure you’re not.” Your arms trembled profusely now, and the heavy puff leaving your lips had nothing to do with the five-kilo dumbbells in your hands.
“Keep going,” he instructed, finally stepping back, arms crossing over his chest again. “I’ll let you know when I’m satisfied.”
–
You pushed through the same gym doors right at 10:00 a.m.—the exact time Taehyun had told you to be there. You’d been on time every single day this week, and as your sneakers squeaked against the floor, you spotted him by the free weights, stretching out his shoulders.
He looked up the second you walked in — a flash of mock surprise crossing his face. “You actually made it to Saturday,” he said, brows lifting slightly.
“Of course I did,” you replied, rolling your eyes as you set your water bottle down next to the rubber mat he’d already laid out for you and started your warm-up stretches.
“Can’t get enough of me, can you?”
You gave him a blank stare, though your stomach fluttered. “As if.”
The moment you finished your stretches and the real training started, you realized something had shifted. From the very first lunch, Taehyun was there — adjusting your arms with his hands when words alone would’ve sufficed, nudging your legs into position with the side of his knee, his palm pressing against your back to guide you lower into a bend. It wasn't like he had been shy about touching before, but it felt a bit more intentional this time.
“Straighten up,” he murmured, fingers trailing lightly down your spine, leaving sparks in their wake. The touch lingered a second longer than necessary before he stepped back.
You exhaled, flustered. “You could’ve just said that.”
“I did,” he countered smoothly.
Later, during dumbbell presses, he came up behind you, palms closing over your wrists to guide the motion. His chest brushed your shoulder blades, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “Like this,” he said quietly, making direct eye contact with you through the mirror. You froze as his breath fanned against your ear, blood rushing to your cheeks. “I—I got it.”
By the time you moved on to squats, you were already a sweating mess, convinced your nerves couldn’t handle more. But Taehyun crouched beside you anyway, one hand steadying your hip, the other brushing over your knee to correct your angle. His eyes flicked up to yours, watching as your eyes darted anywhere but in his direction, making the faintest grin tug at his lips when he caught how flustered you looked. “You’re distracted,”
“And are in my personal space,” you shot back.
Squat
“Am I not here to help you train?”
Squat
“Do you touch everyone you ‘train’ like this?”
Squat
His grin widened. “I mean… how could I not? I only train the pretty ones.”
You let out a frustrated huff, your legs burning from the repeated squads you were doing. Only the pretty ones? What was that even supposed to mean? How many women had he trained before dragging you into this godforsaken place? The exhaustion was creeping up on you as you neared the end of your session. Your eyes bored holes into the wall while you tried to hide the irritated look on your face. Why were you so irritated anyway? It wasn’t like he was yours; he could do whatever he wanted. But the way he’d put it so plainly pissed you off.
From the corner of your eye, you could still see him watching you intently, his big, beautiful boba eyes following every twitch of your body. “Cat got your tongue?” he asked, his tone teasing.
“Go train your pretty ones if you are just here to piss me off.”
“Y/n. Look at me.”
You ignored him, doing your last squat and dropping the bar from your shoulders with a thud. Turning to grab your water bottle, you needed a big gulp to cool yourself down — but his hand wrapped around your wrist stopped you mid-motion. “I said, look at me.”
You hesitated for a moment, but the sternness in his voice made your body move before your mind could. You turned your body towards him but refused to meet his eyes. Crossing your hands under your chest, you waited for him to speak. Instead, a hand slid under your chin, tilting your face upward until your eyes were forced to meet his.
“There we go,” he murmured. “Now, I don’t know what’s with the shift in your mood, but would you feel better if I told you you’re the first one I’m training?”
The mortified look on your face told him everything he needed to know. His smile spread wide as you opened your mouth, searching for words to fight your way out of this, but failed miserably.
“Now grab your stuff and get your cute ass in my car, we are getting some much-deserved ice cream.”
–
Taehyun parked the car in front of basically the only ice cream shop in your neighborhood — the one that stood out with its bright yellow and pink walls among all the plain white houses on the street. The big open neon sign in the window blinked lazily at you as you got out of the car, slamming the door shut behind you.
Inside, the air was cool, finally soothing your still-heated skin. The hum of the freezers filled the quiet between you as you both stood in front of the counter, scanning the colorful rows of flavors. His head was right next to yours as you made your way down the lit-up display, colors gleaming behind the glass.
As you hovered in front of the same few flavors for a little too long, he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping low. “Let me guess — something basic like vanilla?”
You shot him a glare. “No. I like it a bit more exciting, actually. I’ll go with cherry and peach.”
He let out a low hum, “Cute, I’ll be getting espresso chip then. Gotta keep the energy up.”
Your loss for words started to feel like a normal thing with his remarks, as you were once left speechless. His constant double meanings made your stomach flip, and the casual way he said them — like it was nothing — only made it worse. Taheyun started ordering for you both as soon as the cashier turned to you for your turn. All you could do was watch him as he told her your order so effortlessly, as if the tension hanging between you both did nothing to him, while you just stood there flustered. He pulled out his wallet to pay for you, telling her to keep the change before grabbing both your ice creams and handing you yours, not without making sure to brush your fingers in the gesture.
As you both sat by the window with your cups, the teasing faded into a comfortable silence, yet the tension remained. The sun caught in his blond hair, giving him an almost angelic glow. He caught you staring again, yet this time he didn’t tease you for it.
“For the record, I meant it.” He broke the silence sofly, “You really are the first person I’ve trained.”
You looked down as you stirred your slowly melting ice cream, a grin tugging at your lips. “So… you’re calling me pretty?” You tried to sound confident — you really did — but if you were honest? Anything having to do with you being close to Taehyun made every ounce of composure fly out of the window. And he seemed to rather enjoy it as you got the courage to look back up at him again.
He raised an eyebrow as he scooped the last of his ice cream into his mouth, clearly fighting a smile. “I did. Don’t let it get to your head, though.”
You scoffed, licking your spoon. “Too late.”
That earned you a real laugh. He leaned back in his seat, clasping his hands behind his head as his shirt lifted just enough to reveal the hard lines of his abs. It was almost unfair how good-looking he was and how utterly unimpressed he seemed by your constant staring.
If only you could run your fingers up his abs and-
You coughed loudly as the last bite of ice cream went down the wrong way.
“You okay?” Taehyun asked, biting back a laugh as you tried to recover.
“Yeah,” you croaked between coughs, cheeks burning. “Yeah, I’m good. I just— tried to breathe but, uh, inhaled my ice cream instead.”
Still smiling, Taehyun glanced at your empty cup and then at his watch. “Alright, let me drive you home.” He rose from his seat slowly, taking both your empty cups before tossing them into the trash. You nodded, still trying to recover whatever dignity you had left after your little coughing fit, and followed him out of the shop.
As you made your way to your car, you suddenly stopped in your tracks. As the realisation hit you that Seoyun still hadn’t given back your notebook, which you need on Monday for your upcoming test.
Taehyun, who was holding your door open, looked at you with a raised brow. You quickly shook your head, mumbling something incoherent as you slid into the seat, clutching your phone in your lap while your brain scrambled for the least awkward way to say what you needed to say.
He jogged around the front of the car, sliding in on his side and starting the engine with a low rumble. His hand shifted the gear into reverse before resting casually along the back of your headrest. Before he could even take off, the words spilled out of you. “Actually… um— could you take me to your place?”
His hand stilled as he turned his head slowly toward you, one eyebrow arching high, and a teasing smirk tugged at his lips. “Wow. How bold of you, Y/N. Didn’t think we were there yet.”
Your face burned instantly. “Oh my god— not like that!” you groaned, burying your face in your hands and sinking deeper into the seat. “I meant— I just— Seoyun forgot to give me my notebook back, and I really need it for my test on Monday. I’ll literally fail if I don’t have it, and it’s just easier if you bring me right now, otherwise I’ll have to—”
Taehyun cut you off with a low laugh, shaking his head. “Relax, I was joking.” His grin didn’t fade — if anything, it deepened. “Don’t get so defensive, it makes you look even more suspicious.”
“Remind me never to talk to you again,” you muttered, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes at him. A few more minutes stuck with him and his insufferable jokes, and you would be sure they would be stuck in the back of your head. But the tiny smile that still made its way to your lips betrayed you.
—
When Taehyun unlocks the door, he holds it right open for you, nodding his head for you to get inside first. You stepped past him, bending to pull off your shoes — only to notice something missing. The usual splash of Seoyun’s pink sneakers by the door wasn’t there.
“Is Seoyun not home?” you asked, trying to sound casual, though your voice came out just a touch higher than normal. You hoped she was. God, you hoped she was. You’d already spent too much time alone with Taehyun, and you weren’t sure how much more you could handle, especially not in private.
“Nope,” he answered easily, tugging off his shoes. You’d paused halfway through, still bent over, which meant he had to brush past you to reach the rack. His hands landed briefly on your hips, steadying himself to slip by — as if it was necessary. It wasn’t. You knew it. And he definitely knew it too. Your breath caught, but before you could react, he was already climbing the stairs.
Notebook, you reminded yourself. That’s what you came for.
Seoyun’s door creaked as you pushed it open, and there it was — your notebook, right on her desk, half-buried under a scatter of her handwritten pages. You crossed the room, neatly stacking her notes before grabbing your notebook.
You hesitated in the hallway, awkwardly weighing whether to say goodbye or just leave like you usually did when you were with Seoyun. He hadn’t cared before. But he’d driven you here, and you had worked out together all week… it would be rude to just leave, right?
You just wanted to see him one last time in that tight shirt of his — the one that clung to every muscle. What would it look like if he was hoveri— oh my god, Y/N, get a grip. He’s your best friend’s brother, for fuck’s sake.
You hadn’t even noticed your own feet carrying you until you found yourself standing in front of his door, which was wide open. He was bent slightly forward, rearranging something on his desk, the muscles in his back flexing beneath that damn shirt. You leaned against the doorway, notebook clutched tightly to your chest, trying to look casual as you cleared your throat. The sound came out awkward and forced, heat immediately rushing to your cheeks.
The sound made him glance over his shoulder, his face already amused like he was expecting you. The mischievous glint in his eyes told you he’d left the door open on purpose.
“Uh—thank you… for this week. For letting me tag along. I hope I wasn’t too much of a… deal to deal with.” Great job y/n. Smooth. Real smooth.
Taehyun straightened, setting down whatever he’d been holding before walking toward you. His steps were slow and deliberate, that damn smirk already back on his lips. Your eyes darted everywhere but at him — the bookshelf, the floor, the notebook in your hands that you were now fidgeting with nervously.
He stopped a step too close, his presence wrapping around you just like it had all week. His eyes gleamed in that knowing way, like he’d heard every single inappropriate thought that had crossed your mind in the hallway. You scrambled for words, but he beat you to it. “You weren’t any trouble at all,” he murmured, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “On the contrary, workouts were a lot more bearable this week. At least I had something worth looking at instead of a bunch of sweaty guys flexing their egos in the mirror.”
Your entire body flushed so hot it felt like your skin might combust. Did Kang Taehyun just call you pretty twice in one day? The heat in your cheeks gave you away instantly. You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a tiny, embarrassing squeak that wasn’t even close to words. His smile deepened, tilting his head in a way that made your knees weak. He lifted one arm, bracing his hand against the doorframe above you, leaning in just enough that his breath ghosted across your skin.
“Cat got your tongue?” he drawled. He was so close now that the scent of his cologne wrapped all around you, pulling you in even more. You swallowed hard, trying to glance away, but his proximity made it impossible, leaving you no choice but to meet his gaze.
His pupils were blown wide, dark and heavy, you were sure they were mirroring your own. And when his eyes finally flicked downward to your lips, you felt your heart lurch violently against your ribcage. Then, as if to drive the point home, his tongue darted out to wet his lips.
“Please kiss me.” The words slipped out before you even realized they were yours. His eyes widened slightly in amusement before he leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours.
“Fuck, I thought you would never ask.” His lips crashed into yours, hard and demanding, pinning you back against the doorframe as his body caged you in completely. The sudden pressure of his chest against yours and the fierce hunger in the kiss ripped a whimper straight out of you. Your hands flew instinctively into his hair, pulling him closer. His hands tightened on your waist, fingers digging in possessively as though you would scurry off any minute.
One of his hands slid to the back of your neck, slightly tilting your head backwards so he could deepen the kiss. It was hot and dizzying, your teeth grazing, and another whimper escaped you as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. ou melted under him, completely falling apart in his hands until you had to break away for air. He didn’t go far as his forehead pressed against yours, both of you catching your breath.
“God,” he rasped, voice rougher than you’d ever heard. “You have no idea what you did to me.”
And then it hit you. Reality, slamming into your chest like a brick wall. You’d just kissed your best friend’s brother.
Panic tangled in your chest as you tried to push him back, palms flat against his chest. “Taehyun, we can’t—what if Seoyun—” But before you could finish, his hand shot out, wrapping around your wrist and halting your attempt to shove him away. His eyes locked sharply onto yours.
“You think I haven’t noticed?” he said lowly, his tone somewhere between sly amusement and raw honesty. “The way you’ve been looking at me for years? At first, I didn’t think much of it—I know I’m good-looking,” You scoffed, but the sound died on your tongue as his thumb brushed across your pulse point, sending a shiver down your spine. “But lately? You’ve been practically hiding from me. Won’t meet my eyes, rushing out of rooms. Like you thought, if you avoided me, I wouldn’t catch on.”
You opened your mouth to protest—to deny, to say anything—but the words tangled in your throat. Overwhelmed, you grasped for the only excuse that felt safe. “But Seoyun—” He cut you off with another deep kiss. This one was a bit rougher, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip before he pulled back just enough to speak against your mouth.
“You don’t get it, do you?” he murmured. “The first day you walked into the gym this week, I nearly lost it. Those leggings hugging your ass, that little bit of softness of your belly peeking out every time you lifted a dumbbell—do you know how hard it was not to take you right then and there? To claim you for everyone to see?” Your knees buckled under his words, your grip in his hair tightening. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” he continued, his tone sinful. “About wanting to mark every inch of you. To make sure no one else ever gets to look at you the way I do.”
You could only look up at him with wide, innocent eyes after his confession, and that look alone made him groan softly before closing the space between you again. Your knees threatened to give out, but his leg slid between yours before you could. The pressure hit exactly where you needed him most, making your mind go dizzy as a moan slipped past your lips. “Please,” you breathed out, barely coherent. “Please mark me up, Taehyun.”
“Fuck.” He was just as breathless as you were, noticing how you started grinding against his leg. He pulled back, making you whimper in frustration, before guiding you away from the doorframe and back toward his bed.
You landed on the mattress with an oof, barely catching your breath before he was on top of you again. Your hands flew to his chest instinctively, roaming from his biceps down to his abs, unable to stop yourself from feeling the heat radiating off him.
His lips trailed down the side of your neck, leaving a path of wet kisses. You tilted your head instinctively, giving him more room to continue his teasing assault. As Taehyun’s mouth wandered from just below your ear to your collarbone, your hands found their way under his tight shirt, tugging lightly at the hem — a silent request for him to take it off. He let out a quiet, breathy laugh against your pulse, amused by your eagerness, before lifting himself just enough to meet your eyes. You smiled shyly at him as you tugged at his shirt once more, followed by a soft “Please?”
“Hmm… because you asked so nicely,” he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before sitting up fully and pulling his shirt over his head. You followed his lead, discarding yours as well. His gaze dropped to your chest before his hands came up, giving a firm squeeze through the fabric of your bra. A moan slipped from your lips at how perfectly his hands molded around you.
He kissed you again, then began to trail lower, down your neck to your cleavage. A few wet kisses later, he suddenly bit down lightly between your breasts, making you squeal and arch into him. He used the opportunity to unclasp your bra, soothing the spot with his tongue. Your bra came off in one fluid motion, and before you could catch your breath, his mouth was on your skin again — his lips closing around your nipple while his tongue teased in slow, deliberate motions. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging at the strands, drawing a low groan from him.
One of his hands slid down your stomach, tracing the curve of your waist until his fingers reached the edge of your waistband. The soft, barely-there touch left goosebumps in its wake. You bucked your hips involuntarily, needing him down lower where the heat had already soaked your panties through. He let go of your nipple with a soft pop, blowing cool air over the sensitive skin and making you mewl. Another desperate roll of your hips made him hold onto your waist firmly, pressing it down into the mattress. “Patience, princess,” he warned.
A whine was about to leave your mouth until his hand slipped under your waistband, his fingers pressing against your clit. You choked on a moan as he circled it with slow, practiced movements. “Already this wet just from me teasing you?” he teased. “Tsk. How filthy.”
“More,” you gasped out, breathless. He slowed his movements, raising his eyebrows, clearly waiting for you to ask properly. “Please, Tyun. Oh my god, I need more. Please.”
“There we go,” he said with a grin. “Almost thought you’d lost your manners there, pretty.” He sped up his fingers briefly before pulling away altogether, earning an impatient whine from you. Then he tugged your leggings and panties down in one go, his hand immediately finding your slit. The wet sound that followed might’ve embarrassed you if you weren’t already so dazed from his touch. Your hands wrapped around his wrist, trying to guide him closer to where you needed him, but before you could move, his other hand caught both of your wrists easily, pinning them above your head. His hand on your cunt stilled, “You’re being such an impatient brat, princess,” he said with a soft tsk, his lips hovering just above yours. “Only makes me want to tease you even longer.”
You were about to protest when he suddenly plunged two fingers into your hole. The speed at which he moved his fingers left you no room to argue, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, though this time it wasn’t out of annoyance from his stupid jokes. Your back arched once more, leaving your neck bare for him to mark, and he didn’t waste a second to do so.
“Is this what you wanted, hmm? Wanted me to fill you up?” He curled his fingers just at the right angle, making you see stars as the knot in your stomach started to form. Your thighs were trembling, hands holding onto each other, your nails leaving half-moons as you tried to stay somewhat composed. You couldn’t even form any words; the only sound leaving your lips was loud, breathy moans
You tried to pull your hands out of his grip, needing to hold on to something, anything — his hair, the sheets, his arms, just for you to try to ground yourself because at the speed at which he was moving, his fingers left you with only one thought in your head: how good you were feeling. But his grip on your wrist only tightened, leaving you nowhere to go, as you just had to take the amazing feeling that was creeping all the way down from your back to your stomach.
“Taehyun—” you slurred out his name, unable to form any other words but his name.
“Are you close, pretty? I can feel you tightening around my fingers.” You nodded at his words, another loud moan leaving your lips before your body completely locked up, and your orgasm crashed over you, your vision searing white
Taehyun helped you through your orgasm, slowly pumping his fingers before finally pulling out, letting go of your wrists too. You heard him let out a breathy laugh before you felt his lips connect to the side of your neck, leaving soft kisses, as if trying to ground you. Your hands found their way into his hair as you slowly blinked your eyes open. His hands were tracing shapes on your still-trembling thighs as he made his way up to your lips, a soft peck before pulling away to look into your eyes. As his sparkling eyes met your dazed ones, you couldn’t help but smile too. “Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever orgasmed that quickly or hard before.”
Taehyun let out a loud laugh, dropping his head as you giggled along with him. Your hands slipped out of his hair and down to his shoulder, giving him a slight push as you tried to get him off you. “Let me return the favour.” He lifted his head at your words, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Go ahead, princess.”
You groaned as you gave him another push, clearly unsuccessful at even getting him to move an inch from you. “Then get off me, macho man.” His smirk only deepened at your miserable attempts to swap places. “Maybe I like seeing you under me, all at my mercy.” His hand gripped your hip tightly, lifting it so your clit pressed against the bulge in his jeans. You let out a surprised squeal, your clit still sensitive from your intense orgasm. “Maybe I love being able to see every reaction on your pretty face you make because of what I do to you.”
“Then fuck me already if you want to get a reaction out of me so badly. I can feel you want to.” You tried to roll your hips into his bulge, ignoring your own overstimulation, only to be stopped again by him.
“You’re pretty demanding for someone who’s anything but in control right now.” He dropped his head into your neck again, biting down on your pulse point. You bit your lip hard to keep yourself from making any sounds that would give him the satisfaction, yet you couldn’t help but move your head a bit to the side to give him more room. He let out an amused huff. “Maybe you’re right — maybe I do need to fuck the brat out of you.”
He sat up in one swift motion, almost making you whine from the loss of his body warmth. Your pout deepened as he teased you with his joggers, slowly pulling at the drawstrings to undo the knot while maintaining eye contact.
“Taehyun!” You let out an annoyed huff at his antics, your patience wearing thin as he just smiled at you with his shit-eating grin, enjoying his little game far too much.
“Hmm? What was that?” His thumbs dipped into his waistband, pulling it down ever so slightly so you could see his V-line peeking out above it. God, the things you would do if you could get your lips on it.
“Taehyun, fuck me, please, I’m going crazy.” You didn’t care how pathetic you sounded anymore. All that was on your mind was how you needed him badly. The fact that you were about to get fucked by your best friend’s brother didn’t seem to bother you anymore either. Satisfied with your answer, he pulled his joggers and underwear down in one motion, his length slapping against his stomach. You mindlessly rubbed your thighs together at the sight, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by him.
He wrapped his hand around his dick, slowly pumping it in front of your eyes. Another impatient whine escaped you as you felt your thighs were now covered in your own slick, ready to be filled up deliciously by him.
“Who knew you were such a whiny princess?” He lowered himself back over you, his body slotting between your thighs. “Those pretty sounds go straight to my dick,” he murmured as he prodded his tip against your entrance. “So fucking wet, holy shit, Y/N.”
He moved his tip up and down your slit a few times, coating himself in your slick, before slowly pushing in. You both moaned at the feeling of him entering you; his grip on your hips tightened, surely leaving marks from how hard he was squeezing, while your own nails left long streaks down his back.
The room was filled with your heavy breaths as he pushed fully into you, and he loved the way your eyes went hazy once again. Your warm walls pulsed around him, but he didn’t move — not even when you started to writhe beneath him. “Move,” you demanded, frustration lacing your voice as you grabbed his shoulders, trying to pull him closer.
“Beg.”
You rolled your eyes at him. He could go fuck himself and his little games. You placed your feet flat on the mattress, lifting your hips and trying to push yourself up and down on his length. With him pressed so close, it was almost impossible to find a rhythm — but you wouldn’t give in so easily. He watched in amusement as you tried to get yourself off before leaning down, his lips finding your ear. “Just one word, y/n, and I’ll fuck you so good. All you have to do is lie there and take me. Don’t you want to be treated like a pillow princess?” He murmured. You shook your head, a whine leaving your lips unwillingly as your hips already grew tired. “So pathetic, so weak… let me take care of you.”
His right hand traveled to your neck, wrapping around it and slightly squeezing as your eyes rolled back. His other hand made its way down to your clit, drawing slow, deliberate circles — enough pressure to build pleasure, but not enough to get you off.
“Beg, y/n.”
Still, your lips stayed tightly shut, even as your hips trembled from exhaustion. You needed him so badly, and you knew how unlikely it was that you’d get off like this — but you liked seeing how far you could push him.
Suddenly, he pulled almost all the way out — only to slam back into you, hard. A moan ripped through you as your back arched, pushing your chest into his face. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, biting down on the bud. A sound of pain and pleasure filled his ears as you clawed at anything you could reach, and the last bit of restraint crumbled in a matter of seconds.
“Holy fuck, yes, please, Taehyun — I need you, please — I need you so bad, fuck me dumb.”
You could barely finish your sentence before his hand left your clit, grabbing your hip in a bruising hold as he started to pound into you. He was using you as his own little fleshlight as you lay there, taking every thrust just like he wanted you to. The grip around your neck tightened, and you swore you saw stars. You clenched around him, earning a low, rumbling moan in return. “See how easy that was? The power one polite word can have.”
Your hands held onto the wrist of the hand that was squeezing your neck, as your eyes tried to blink away the haze to find his gaze. At this point, you were only mumbling incoherently as he kept pounding into you at a bruising pace. “Feeling good, baby? Seems like you forgot how to speak.”
His jab at your dumbification went totally unnoticed by you, as you focused solely on the tightening in your stomach. The feeling was so overwhelming that you tried to pull him closer; you needed him closer. “Taehyun…” you mumbled as you weakly grabbed at his bicep.
Taehyun, being the observant person he is, instantly got what you were hinting at. Letting his body fall forward as his hand left your neck, wrapping around your arched back instead. Pulling you even closer to him, his pace faltered not one bit. “I’ve got you, princess; you can let go for me.” He pressed his lips to the side of your jaw, leaving kisses in his wake.
One more particular thrust had you squeezing around his dick insanely tight, making it almost impossible for him to keep moving, as your second intense orgasm washed over you. “fuck– y/n, you are squeezing me so tight—” Taehyun moaned in your ear. Before you could register the overstimulation in your cunt from his uncoordinated thrusts, he stilled as Taehyun came inside of you.
As his body went limp, he still made sure to support himself on his forearms so as not to crush you under his weight. But you didn't care as you wrapped your arms around his neck, weakly tugging him into you, having no strength left. This time, he didn’t argue as he chuckled and let himself fall onto you.
Both of you were trying to catch your breath as you lazily traced patterns on his naked back, his hand doing the same on your hip. You felt him go soft inside you, Taehyun’s cue to pull himself up and out of you, your combined releases seeping out the second he did. You pushed yourself onto your elbows as your eyes caught the way his lower body was fully glistening with your slick. Your eyes widened in horror.
“You squirted,“ he said with a smirk.
“Taehyun— I’m so fucking sorry, I—” he shushed you with a kiss before you could continue. “Do you know how fucking hot that was of you?” he murmured as he pulled away, his lips hovering above yours. “Don’t apologise for feeling good ever again. Got it?”
Your nod was enough of a confirmation for him, leaning in to kiss you once more. You had both been so lost in each other that you had totally forgotten the situation you had found yourselves in; the realisation dawning on you when you heard the front door open and shut.
Seoyun’s singing voice filled the house from downstairs before she abruptly stopped. “Y/n’s shoes? What is she doing here without me… oh.”
⋆·˚ ༘ * Casual hookups transcend into more when Yeonjun can’t keep his feelings at bay anymore. With praise on his tongue and dirty words a testament of his devotion to you, he’s determined to show you what he’s been holding back.
✦ Love Language: Words of Affirmation
pairing: yeonjun x reader ✮⋆˙✐ 2.4k
warnings: smut, f!reader, fwb to lovers, dirty talk, praise, reassurance, a lot of dialogue, dry humping, no protection
🗂️ click here to access all txt member’s files
˚₊ · »-♡→ main masterlist
Choi Yeonjun could coax an orgasm out of you like no other.
Powerful, blinding, earth-shattering climaxes that left your sensitive body trembling and your mind floating, all while the silver chain around his neck swung low and draped over your skin, marking you as his.
The bite of his bottom lip between his teeth and the scrunch of his forehead, taut with lust. The kiss of his lips to your cheek as your eyes flutter open, drawing light and reality back in. And finally, the slow drag of his hips as he exits your body.
Then he stands up from the bed and puts his clothes back on, already facing the door.
"So I'll text you tomorrow?" Always Yeonjun's last words, barely giving you time to come back to yourself before he's out of your bedroom.
This was the unfortunate nature of your friendship with Yeonjun. Or whatever a sane person might call the predicament you'd found yourselves in. A situationship. A fuckship. A please-don’t-let-me-be-the-only-one-feeling-like-this-ship.
The next day drags on like usual, but this time, you find yourself dreading it—dreading the moment you’ll have to feign a smile for Yeonjun again. He’s already waiting for you at the end of the street like always, ready to walk into your friend’s apartment by your side with another late night ahead.
His arm is naturally slung over your shoulder, keeping you to him, as you greet everyone inside. The proximity never fails to mess with your head. He was always like this around everyone. Touching you, teasing you, making flirtatious remarks that would leave your cheeks rosy. And somehow, more nights than not, it ends with you folded in half beneath him.
You know all too well how it goes. He’d say and do all the right things, painting a picture so perfect it almost felt real. For a moment, it would make sense. Like he wanted you the way you wanted him. Then he’d zip up his pants and leave.
But everyone saw it tonight.
The way Yeonjun stands just a little extra close to you. How your drinks were always shared. His fingers sometimes finding your leg under the table like the flesh of your thigh was calling to him, inviting him to stake his claim.
You hear someone—probably Beomgyu—joke in your direction. “Just fuck already.”
While you choke on your drink, Yeonjun doesn't even blink. “Who says we haven’t?”
The group howled. You laughed too. But you didn’t look at him, not really anyway, afraid he'd catch the frown evident on your face.
There was always a line neither of you dared cross. In public, you let the world think it was just a little playful recklessness.
Behind closed doors, it was different.
He touched you like worship. Fucked you like he was starved—afraid you’d vanish the moment he stopped. He’d murmur things against your skin you weren’t supposed to remember, call you his, tell you how good you were, how only you made him feel like this. You’d cling to his shoulders like you believed it, too.
Lately, after those doors closed, Yeonjun had been acting off. Sex was still intense. Mind-numbing, even.
Yet something would shift the moment he came. How he'd untangled himself from your limbs like it hurt. The way he whispered a soft “Later,” like he was trying not to say something else.
He never used to leave so fast. You never used to care. Not until the cold, empty space next to you began begging to be filled with his warmth again. You wish you'd known what changed.
So when Yeonjun asks if you want to go upstairs, just the two of you, you don’t even question it. The apartment is too crowded, too warm, the buzz in your chest a little too strong to ignore. You nod, letting him lead the way, even though you already know how it’s going to end.
It only takes mere minutes before you're both stripped down to your undergarments, with you face down in the bed as he traces your skin like a canvas.
Yeonjun is straddling your thighs, admiring every inch of your body lying on your stomach before him. His fingers begin just behind your ear, tucking some hair away. Slowly they drag further down your skin—neck, shoulder, spine cascading with goosebumps, waist, hips, the plump skin of your ass and the lacey material that hugged it.
He finally grips you with both his hands, squeezing tightly before bending over your body and biting ever so softly on your earlobe. Your thighs press together, desire pooling in your thin panties already.
Then his voice is whispy and needy against your cheek. “You feel like home to me. I could look at you like this forever.”
It’s unclear what about this that makes you snap. But you’ve had enough being misled, enough of the unkept promises.
“You always say things like that when we're like this. It doesn’t mean anything.” You call him out, only half joking, mostly defensive.
Yeonjun stills—his gaze heavy on only your face. His response pulls the air straight from your lungs.
“It means everything. You just don’t listen.”
It’s then that you realize your eyes have begun filling with tears, which you refuse to let spill. The weight of the situation comes to a head
"Hey," Yeonjun coos. His hands are on your shoulders, forcing you to turn onto your back so he can see you properly. His eyes widen at your red eyes looking back at him, noticing the way you suddenly closed off. He slides next to you on his side.
"Yeonjun, what is this?" You huff, tears gone and replaced with anger. "Because I do listen. That's the problem. I listen to you and I believe what you say. And then you're gone."
He thinly smiles, but there's a layer of shame behind it. “There’s a reason I had to stop hanging around after. If I stayed any longer I might’ve scared you away.”
"Why would you scare me away?" You're nose to nose with him now. You don't know if it was you or he who scooted closer.
"Because I’d stop pretending. I'd ask you to stop seeing anyone else. I'd want to be enough for you. And if I wasn’t, I don’t think I could take it."
You freeze, finally seeing Yeonjun for all that he is now.
He speaks again when you can't find the words. “You think I tell just anyone they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me while they’re falling apart under me?”
Your voice is quiet, but sure. "Then stop pretending. Yeonjun… I want more. I just didn’t think you did." Your hand drifts up his chest, resting over his heart. "You're more than enough.”
Yeonjun’s breath stutters. “Then let me show you what I’ve been holding back.”
He surges forward, capturing your mouth with his. He finally lets himself feel everything he’s been holding back.
Your legs tangle instinctively as you both remain on your sides, facing each other, bodies pressed close. His hand is on your hip, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the hard line of him, twitching through both your underwear, pressing right where you need him.
His forehead rests against yours as he begins to move—subtle rolls of his hips that grind his cock against your center, dragging friction with each pass.
“Feel that?” he breathes dreamily. “That’s what you do to me. Every damn time.”
You gasp, your own hips moving now, chasing the pressure, the closeness, the heat. Your fingers clutch at his flexed bicep, needing something to hold onto.
A broken moan catches in your throat. “You think I don’t feel the same?” You whisper, your tone shaky. Your hips roll to meet his, earning a low groan from his lips. “You leave and I lie in that bed wishing you’d just… stay. I don’t want anyone else, Yeonjun. Just you.”
He lets out an uneven breath like he’s been waiting to hear that for months. His hand slides down to your ass, splaying wide across the flesh to drag you even closer, like he could mold your bodies together.
“Say it again,” he begs, grinding harder now, lips brushing your jaw, your cheek, your temple. “Say it while I make you cum like this.”
You’re already gasping, forehead pressed to his, needing more and loving that this finally means something.
Every slow grind of his clothed cock against your soaked panties sends shocks through your core. You cling to him, overwhelmed by how good it feels.
“O-only you, Yeonjun.”
The second the words leave your mouth, he lights up like a match to gasoline. He groans and grips your ass even tighter, rutting against you now with less restraint. This sends pleasure coiling through your gut.
“Fuck,” he breathes against you, panting now, almost angry with need. “You’re always so perfect for me.”
His hand slips between your bodies, cupping your pussy over your panties and pressing down just enough to make the pressure unbearable. Your head falls back, body shaking as he rocks against you harder, dragging your panties across your swollen clit.
“You sound so fucking pretty,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “Every moan—fuck—it’s going straight to my cock. Wanna fuck you slow after this. Real slow. Wanna feel you pulse around me ‘til you’re crying.”
"Please keep going. I need you." You whimper.
“You gonna cum for me like this? Just from grinding? Look how fucking needy you are. I know your body better than anyone, don’t I?”
You nod frantically, already there. The build-up has been burning in your gut since the moment he touched you, and now it’s crashing down in waves—your orgasm slamming into you so hard your knees buckle.
“Yeonjun—” you cry, nails digging into his arm, your hips jerking helplessly against his cock as you cum.
He holds you through it, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other still cupping your cunt, letting you ride the high out on his palm. You’re soaked, panties ruined, your whole body trembling as he whispers filth against your ear.
“That’s it, baby. Just like that. You cum so good for me.”
And then you feel it, how soaked he is.
The front of his boxers is soaked with pre-cum, the evidence of how hard he’s been holding back nearly obscene. He doesn’t even ask. He pushes his boxers down and tosses them aside, freeing himself. You’re still recovering, but the second his fingers hook into the sides of your panties and peel them off, the heat returns.
You don’t even think—your body moves on instinct. When he comes back down beside you, you grind against his thigh this time, and his jaw clenches at the feel of your bare, soaked folds dragging against his skin, leaving a trail of arousal in your wake.
“Holy shit,” he bites back a moans, watching you with heavy eyes. “Greedy girl. Get on your stomach again.”
You obey, letting him guide you down. He straddles your thighs like before, but this time, everything is different. This time, he knows you’re his. You know it, too.
“Ruin me, baby,” you whisper into the sheets.
He strokes himself slowly behind you, lined up and leaking, watching the way you lie flat before him. He lowers himself, chest and stomach pressed to your back, the weight of him trapping you.
“I meant every word I’ve ever said to you in bed,” he says softly before proceeding, brushing your hair to one side. “Every.” A kiss to your temple. "Single." To your neck. “One.” To the corner of your mouth.
Then he pushes in, sliding into your sensitive heat inch by inch until he’s fully buried. You choke on a moan.
“God, you’re so tight,” he whispers. “Still clenching from that last orgasm, huh? You’re gonna give me another, aren’t you? Such a good girl.”
He starts to move slowly at first, grinding into your sweet spot with every stroke. Your body reacts on its own, already building again. He keeps you flat against the bed, one arm cradling your waist, the other laced with your fingers when you reach back for him. He intertwines your fingers without question.
You’re gasping now, high-pitched whines escaping your lips, babbling about how good it feels, how full you are, how close you are again.
“Don’t stop, please, fuck—Yeonjun—gonna cum again.”
“Shit, baby, you’re so good,” he grits out, rutting into you harder now, hips slapping against your ass, the sound filthy and wet. “So fucking perfect. So tight around me I can barely think.”
You sob into the mattress, your whole body vibrating with pleasure. His cock taps that perfect spot again and again, and you can feel his rhythm falter, his breath hitch. He’s close, so close.
“So sexy like this. Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Where do you want me, baby?”
“On my ass,” you whimper. “Wanna feel you.”
That’s all he needs. His hand slides into your hair, gripping tight, pressing your cheek to the mattress. His thrusts grow frantic, your clit grinding against the sheets, the pressure sending sparks down your spine.
“I love you,” he gasps, voice raw. “I love you so fucking much—”
And then you’re both coming.
You first, spasming around him, thighs shaking uncontrollably as the friction sends you over the edge a second time. He pulls out quickly, stroking himself fast as thick, hot ropes spill across your ass and lower back, his body trembling above you.
Neither of you moves. Your face is still buried in the sheets, breathing hard. He leans down, kissing your spine, your shoulders, your cheek. He's extra tender now.
But the fire in both your bodies hasn’t gone out. Not even close. Yeonjun knows it, too. Not when you two are finally on the same page.
His lips brush your ear. “I think we’re gonna need a bed we can ruin properly.”
You smile, still breathless. “Then let's get out of here. I want more of you."
"Come on," he chuckles, rolling off the bed. He extends a hand to you, gently tugging you up with him. "Yours or mine?"
You hesitate to say yours, and he senses it. His hands cup your face on each side, lowering his head to meet your eye line. "It's okay. You’re not sleeping alone tonight. I won't make that mistake ever again."
You don’t say another word. There’s no need to.
Clothes are slipped back on in silence, the air still thick with everything that just passed between you. When you head back downstairs, hand in hand, you don’t miss the wide eyes and gaping mouths staring after you. Yeonjun tosses a few half-hearted goodbyes over his shoulder without slowing down. You stay close behind him, face tucked shyly into his back as he guides you out the door.
But behind your flustered smile, pride, giddiness, and relief are all wrapped in one. Because finally, Choi Yeonjun was yours.
「 !! 」 slutty txt, they wear glasses, sub!txt, dom!reader, this is a direct jab at the patriarchy, reversed gender roles/misogyny, oral (f.rec), tit-groping, yj gets off on readers shoe (peak), kissing.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ go abc 123 in my inbox for full fics on these because I'm so downnn for it, especially taehyun's, but also beomjun's,, absolute cinema. I didn't proofread this,,
── 𝖬𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳 | 𝖳𝖷𝖳'𝖲 𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳
𝖠𝖲𝖲𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖭𝖳 𝖸𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖩𝖴𝖭 who always brings you coffee at 9am sharp each morning. who flirts up his colleagues in the lounge room and lets his gaze linger on the new hires a little too long. assistant!yeonjun who absolutely loves it when you call him into your office thirty minutes later, a stern look in your eyes that he knows all too well. he enjoys this secret little game the two of you play, the one no one else has to know about. with him on his knees before you, the sharpness of your heel digging into his shoulder, causing him to nearly whimper. "you useless assistant, only good for whoring around", you'd tsk as you give him a push with your shoe. assistant!yeonjun who can't help but moan as he presses a kiss to your calf, nodding slowly when he peers up at you through hooded eyes, "you gonna punish me, boss?"
assistant!yeonjun helplessly ruts against your shoe as it presses down on his cock through his clothes, head thrown back and lips parted as he clings onto you desperately. the cockiness has completely washed off, leaving only a desperate mess of the man he perceives himself to be. "s'just meaningless flirting.." he gasps as your heel digs into his crotch, a shudder running through him, "a-ah won't do it again!"
𝖠𝖲𝖲𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖭𝖳 𝖲𝖮𝖮𝖡𝖨𝖭 who works hard and long hours, never asking for days off even during the holidays. you can't help but admire him from afar, the way he sits hunched over his desk, glasses sliding down his nose as he buries himself in his work. assistant!soobin who's tall frame seems to shrink when you walk by, his gaze dropping to the floor. "what's the matter? you got the files back to me in time", you drawl, sharp nail sliding across his jaw. soobin swallows, Adam's apple bobbing as he nods quietly, "y-yes.." he whispers, cheeks flushing pink. assistant!soobin who's too shy to ask for a reward on his good job, all he really wants is for you to pin him down in his chair as you straddle his hips, just the way you had last time.
assistant!soobin who exhales sharply as your hand wraps around his cock, head tilted back against his chair and his glasses discarded somewhere else. heavy breaths filling the office as you let his large hands wander across your chest, groping and squeezing at your tits. "more", he breathes against your neck, unbashfully asking for you to reward him on his work. "you're a greedy thing you know", your fingers clasp around his chin, forcing him to meet your gaze, "you're lucky I like it."
𝖠𝖲𝖲𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖭𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖮𝖬𝖦𝖸𝖴 who acts like your boss more than your assistant. running his mouth whenever he thinks you won't hear, boasting about how much he's done for the company and how grateful you should be to have someone like him in the building. it all crumbles down the second the door to your office shuts of course. there he's all nervous hand gestures and averted eyes as he coughs up excuses and lies on his late reports and the vastly spreading rumours around the company. "you think it wouldn't get back to me eventually? tch, and to think my own assistant was up to something like that." you fold your arms across your chest, leaning against your desk as you watch him with narrowed eyes.
assistant!beomgyu who spends the next half hour on his knees in front of you, head buried between your thighs as he laps eagerly at your cunt. "m'sorry", the apology comes out muffled between kisses to your skin, "won't happen again." he practically whines when you tug on his hair, hands gripping at your legs in a futile attempt at steadying himself, all the while his hips buck frantically against nothing as his erection strains against his pants.
𝖠𝖲𝖲𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖭𝖳 𝖳𝖠𝖤𝖧𝖸𝖴𝖭 who only really picked this job because of the pay. his excellent work moral caused him to climb quickly in ranks, which sparked jealousy around other hires. he never paid them much mind but as he finds himself in your office, the position as your assistant dangling in front of him like a piece of gold, he can't help but take it. assistant!taehyun doesn't consider himself a sexist man but he also can't help but question your decisions, brows raising a little higher on his head when you propose a new idea unable to hide the hesitation behind his response. you quickly pick up on it of course, how could you not, and you're not one to sit back and let it unfold.
assistant!taehyun is hardly moved when you call him into your office that day, but when you unbutton your blouse his heart stops. "I'm not fond of having my competence questioned, especially not by my own assistant", you drawl as you let your shirt drop to the ground. taehyun grunts when your fingers wrap around his tie, tugging him forward as your other hand finds its way to his pants, a small smile gracing your lips when you find him already hard, "perhaps this lesson will do you good."
𝖠𝖲𝖲𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖠𝖭𝖳 𝖪𝖠𝖨 who stumbles over his every other word, blushing furiously when he gets something wrong and apologises over and over. he's endearing in a way, ridiculously smart too, though he doesn't even seem to realise it himself. sometimes you find yourself watching him out of pure intrigue, from the way he bites his lip in concentration or how he straightens his glasses. the best part is when he catches you in the act, and you don't even bother hiding it. he'll clear his throat quickly and pretend he hadn't seen you looking in the first place, and if he had his way, the unspoken tension would have never been brought to the surface. fortunately for him, you take on a different approach.
assistant!kai who doesn't understand why you ask him to stay behind one late afternoon, much less when you push him back against the wall. his glasses are crooked on his nose, tie loose around his neck and his hair tousled as he pants, "w-wait I mean... really?" he gasps between kisses, biting down on his lips as he fights off a moan when your fingers fiddle with the zipper of his pants. "I'd be stupid not to", you murmur as your lips trace along his jaw, "now put those hands of yours to use."
Pairing: Boyfriend!Yeonjun x reader
Genre: Fluff, crack, some spice
Warnings: Slight nsfw
a/n: This was supposed to be up two days ago I am sorry for the delay but here it is!! I hope you like it <3
Other work: Masterlist
Happy reading!
Beomgyu version | Kai version | Soobin version | Taehyun version
My inbox is always open for taglists, requests, chit-chat or feedback <3
You never thought you’d be the kind of girl two boys fought over, even as a joke. Especially not them. Taehyun and Yeonjun were always so effortlessly cool, so magnetic, always surrounded by friends and noise and that boyish chaos you envied but never quite belonged to. You were the soft presence in the corner, the roommate who shuffled by in baggy shirts and mismatched socks, glasses perpetually sliding down your nose, hair pulled back because you couldn’t be bothered most days.
You were the “sister,” the “cutie,” the punchline to every harmless joke, the person they leaned on but never leaned into. Or at least, that’s what you convinced yourself. In your head, they only noticed you when you forgot to do your dishes or when you wandered out of your room for late-night snacks, a ghost haunting the kitchen at 2am in some fuzzy pajama pants with cartoon cats.
So when Taehyun called your name that night, voice already laced with mischief and too much energy for a Thursday, you barely poked your head out of your doorway. He and Yeonjun were sprawled on the living room rug, half-untangled from a Mario Kart tournament, surrounded by snacks and empty soda cans, laughter bouncing off the cheap apartment walls. Taehyun looked up first, eyes flicking over the oversized hoodie you wore, the one with the sleeves chewed at the cuffs, and the old pair of leggings that barely reached your ankles. Yeonjun smirked when he saw you, dimples deepening, tapping his phone screen with a lazy rhythm.
You barely managed a mumble. “What?”
Taehyun shot you his most dramatic pout. “There’s a party at Beomgyu’s place. You’re coming, right?”
Panic fluttered in your chest instantly. You’d never fit at those parties. Everyone knew it, even if they didn’t say it out loud. The girls all had perfect eyeliner and long, painted nails, clothes tight in all the right places. The guys wore too much cologne and fake confidence. You didn’t belong there, not with your bare face and soft, round stomach, the way you always felt like your body was apologizing for taking up space. You shook your head, hugging your arms tighter around yourself, voice barely above a whisper. “No way. Not my scene. You two have fun, though.”
Yeonjun made a sound of protest, rolling over onto his back with a dramatic groan. “Come on, it’ll be fun! You never do anything with us anymore. Don’t be a loser.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not a loser, I’m just tired. Besides, I don’t have anything to wear.”
He grinned, sensing blood in the water. “Liar. I bet you have something cute hidden in that closet.”
You flushed so hard you could feel it in your ears. The last thing you needed was for them to start poking around in your things, but Taehyun was already climbing to his feet, determined and annoyingly persistent. He marched past you, smirking, and you squeaked out his name, but he just threw you a wink over his shoulder. “If you’re not gonna pick something, we will.”
Yeonjun was right behind him, snatching up your hand and dragging you after them. You tried to protest, but it all came out as helpless giggles, your feet shuffling over the carpet as the boys burst into your tiny room like it was their own. Your closet was a disaster: layers of sweaters and hoodies and soft, washed-out t-shirts, all safe, familiar armor against the world. Taehyun started sifting through hangers, holding up shirts and making faces at your old jeans, tossing them onto the bed in a growing mountain. “Jesus, you really do dress like a grandma.”
Yeonjun hopped onto your bed, folding his legs under him, eyes sparkling with the thrill of invading your privacy. “She’s a little gremlin, isn’t she? You ever seen her in anything that isn’t three sizes too big?”
You could barely form a comeback, embarrassment burning in your chest. You grabbed at his arm, trying to pull him off your bed, but he just grinned wider, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “C’mon, cutie, we know you’re hiding something spicy in here.”
And then Taehyun went silent. You turned to see him frozen, hand deep in the back of your closet, eyes wide as his fingers brushed over something black and unfamiliar. He pulled it free, a strange little smile curling at the corner of his mouth. In his hands was the dress. The one you bought months ago on a whim, the one you’d never worn, tags still attached, tucked so deep behind your winter coats you’d honestly forgotten about it. The fabric was sleek, scandalous by your standards. Thin straps, soft as a whisper, a neckline that dipped just a little too low. You felt naked just looking at it.
Yeonjun’s eyebrows shot up so high you thought they might disappear into his hairline. He let out a slow, appreciative whistle, reaching over to flick the dress against Taehyun’s knuckles. “Now this is what I’m talking about! Since when do you own something like this?”
Taehyun’s grin grew, mischievous and… something else you couldn’t name. “Did you buy this for yourself, or are you tryna seduce someone behind our backs?”
You wanted to die. There was no hole deep enough to bury yourself in. You grabbed for the dress, but Yeonjun held it out of reach, waggling his eyebrows and taunting you in that sing-songy voice you hated and secretly adored. “Explain yourself, cutie. We’re all dying to know.”
You stared at the floor, mortified, twisting your fingers in your sleeve. “It’s not a big deal. I just—got bored one day and it was on sale. I thought… maybe I’d wear it if I ever felt like looking pretty. Never happened. Can you put it back, please?”
The room went quiet. Not teasing quiet but something else. Taehyun was still watching you, his gaze different now, softer but also weirdly intense, tracing over your face, your hands, the way you couldn’t meet his eyes. Yeonjun’s smirk faded, replaced by something almost gentle as he handed the dress back to you.
“You’d look hot in this,” he said, voice low, almost careful. “I mean it.”
You didn’t know what to do with that. Compliments from them were usually sarcastic, some punchline trailing behind. This one landed and stuck, making your chest ache in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. You mumbled, “You’re just messing with me.”
Taehyun moved closer, not quite touching you, but close enough you could feel the heat of his body, the scent of his shampoo, his cologne mingled with something warm and boyish. “We’re not messing with you. I don’t know why you hide yourself so much. You’re cute as hell, you know that?”
Your heart was pounding so loud you thought they might hear it. You squeezed the dress in your hands, fingers twisting the silky fabric. “I don’t want to stand out,” you whispered, almost hoping they wouldn’t catch it.
Yeonjun snorted, half exasperated, half fond. “You stand out all the time, dummy. Why do you think we’re always bothering you?”
You didn’t have an answer. You’d always figured it was just brotherly teasing, the way boys poke fun at the girls they see as harmless. But now, in the tight hush of your room, with two sets of eyes fixed on you, you realized you didn’t actually know what they thought at all.
Yeonjun dropped onto his knees in front of you, dramatic as ever, clutching your hand in both of his and giving you that desperate puppy-dog face he only used when he really wanted something. “Please? Wear it to the party. Just this once. For us?”
You gawked at him, laughter bubbling up despite yourself. “You want me to die of embarrassment?”
Taehyun collapsed on the bed beside you, throwing an arm around your shoulders, his body heavy and comforting, voice melting into your ear. “No one will mess with you, swear to god. I’ll beat anyone up who tries anything, including yeonjun. Especially yeonjun.”
Yeonjun glared up at him. “I’d like to see you try.”
You rolled your eyes, but the tension had shifted. Instead of dread, you felt… something lighter. An unfamiliar giddiness from the fact that they actually wanted you there as someone they enjoyed. The dress was still in your hands, your palms sweating around the fabric, nerves twisting in your belly. You looked from one to the other, the way Taehyun’s hair flopped over his forehead, the stubborn set of his jaw, the hope barely disguised in his eyes. Yeonjun’s smirk was softer now, almost nervous, his fingers idly tracing shapes along your shoulder as if he didn’t know what else to do with them.
You felt the pressure in the room like a held breath, all three of you caught in the question you weren’t quite brave enough to ask. What if you really wore it? What if you stepped out of your safe clothes, your safe routine, your safe self, just for one night? What if you let them see you, all of you?
You didn’t realize you’d nodded until Taehyun whooped, launching to his feet. Yeonjun squeezed your shoulder, laughter rumbling deep in his chest.
“Atta girl,” Taehyun grinned, backing toward the door. “You better make us proud.”
Yeonjun winked, all slow confidence but his cheeks were pink, eyes lingering on you for a beat too long. “We’ll be waiting. Don’t take all night.”
They filed out, closing your door behind them, but you could hear them bickering in the hallway, voices dropping to teasing whispers you couldn’t quite make out. For a minute you just stood there, dress pressed against your chest, heart thudding wild and reckless.
It was terrifying. And kind of thrilling. Maybe even, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like hiding. Not when they were waiting on the other side of the door. Not when you could still feel Yeonjun’s hand on your shoulder and Taehyun’s eyes on your face, both of them looking at you like you were something more than just their “sister.” Like maybe, just maybe, you could be something else.
You turned the dress over in your hands, nervous and stupidly hopeful, wondering how the night would change if you just let it. Wondering what would happen if you finally stepped out of the corner and let them see everything you’d been hiding. You didn’t know yet, but you wanted to find out.
In the living room, Taehyun and Yeonjun waited, their jokes fading into a quieter, breathless anticipation, both of them wondering why the thought of you in that dress made it suddenly so damn hard to breathe.
The dress sits in your hands for ages before you can even make yourself move. The black fabric shimmers a little in the lamplight. Unapologetic, nothing like the safe, baggy clothes you drown yourself in every day. You’re already blushing, already squirming at the idea of showing skin, but the memory of Taehyun on his knees, Yeonjun’s voice all breathy and soft, the way they really looked at you… It lights up something reckless inside you. you don’t belong at the party, the dress is too much, but you want to be someone new for a night, or just brave enough to show them the you they’ve never seen.
You peel off your old hoodie, your tee, leggings puddling around your ankles, feeling exposed in just your plain bra and cotton underwear. In the mirror, your reflection is unfiltered: belly soft and round, thighs thick and marked with the little dents of everyday life, your chest pushed up high and full in the cheap bra you only bought for comfort. You look like yourself, every insecurity screaming at you that you’re not enough, not pretty enough, not the kind of girl who belongs in something this tight, this revealing.
The dress slips over your head like a dare. The first shock is the cold fabric, slick and strange on your skin, settling across your shoulders with feather-light straps. Then it sinks, lower and lower, the way the dress hugs, and you mean… hugs, your curves. It clings to your waist, skims every dip and roll, rides up along your hips until you’re tugging it down, face burning. Your chest is suddenly… there, framed by the low neckline, spilling out in a way you’re not used to seeing. You shift, the hem threatening to ride up, tugging the material again and again, fingers shaking. You want to laugh, or scream, or crawl out of your own skin.
Your glasses feel too big for your face, your bra feels too old for this outfit, and your thighs rub together in a way that’s loud in the silence of your bedroom. You turn in the mirror, twisting side to side, looking for the angle that doesn’t make you want to hide. You don’t find it. All you see is skin, rolls, the softest parts of you on display for the first time in forever. It feels wrong. It feels stupid. You almost rip the dress off and go back to your pajamas, almost lock yourself in your room for the night and tell them you’re sick. But you hear Taehyun and Yeonjun’s voices in the living room, low and buzzing, the occasional curse and laugh. You picture the way they looked at you like they meant it.
Your heart slams against your chest. Screw it. Maybe you look dumb. Maybe you’ll regret this forever. But you said you’d try. You square your shoulders, swipe at your glasses, wipe your sweaty palms on your thighs, and open your bedroom door.
The living room is loud with laughter, the boys half-wrestling over something stupid on the TV, but when you step into the light, all wobbly knees and shy posture, it all goes silent. Yeonjun’s eyes hit you first, wide and a little wild, the remote falling from his hand as he sits up straighter. Taehyun turns, a joke already on his lips, but the words die there, his mouth parting in shock as he takes you in.
You freeze, standing on the threshold, arms crossed tight over your belly. “Guys, please be honest,” you say, barely able to get the words out. “Does this dress look dumb?”
Neither of them says anything for a long, brutal moment. Yeonjun blinks, eyes crawling down your body. His eyes stay lingering on the curve of your thighs, the shape of your ass, the soft, exposed swell of your chest pressing against the neckline. He looks away, only to look right back, jaw clenching, trying not to stare. Jesus fucking Christ, his brain screams, the sight of you in that dress hitting him like a punch to the dick. He’d been half-hard just thinking about you all week. Your little giggles, the way you always smelled like vanilla and clean laundry, the way you curled up in the corner of the couch, sucking on your thumb when you thought no one was watching. But this? This is fucking torture.
His cock throbs in his jeans, stiffening hard, so fast it almost hurts. He shifts on the couch, trying to hide it, crossing one leg over the other, dragging a throw pillow onto his lap like it’s casual. But he can’t take his eyes off you. He wants to tell you the truth: that you look fucking edible, that every inch of you is perfect, that he’s spent way too many nights jerking off to the memory of your laugh and the flash of your thighs when you bent over to pick up laundry. He wants to say he’d die to see you like this every day, in nothing but this dress and those sweet little glasses, hair all messy and lips bitten red.
Taehyun is no better. He swallows, throat tight, blood rushing straight to his cock as he stares you down. Every single insecurity you have, he finds hot. The way your thighs squeeze together under the tight hem, the little bulge of your belly, the way your tits are just fucking begging to be touched, spilling over the edge of the dress, your glasses crooked and fogged at the edges. He tries to smirk, to play it cool, but he’s buzzing with dirty thoughts. Imagining you pressed up against a wall, legs spread, dress hiked up over your ass while you whimper and beg, his name falling from your lips. He shifts in his seat, adjusting himself with a subtle tug, the denim of his jeans suddenly way too tight, the tip of his cock leaking just from looking at you.
You don’t see any of this, of course. All you see are their eyes, locked on you, mouths a little open, neither one making a joke for the first time in their lives. You fidget, wrapping your arms around your stomach, wishing the dress was longer, thicker, that it could hide you from their gaze. “Seriously,” you mumble, trying to keep your voice steady. “If I look ridiculous, just tell me. I’ll go change. I shouldn’t have—”
Yeonjun finally finds his voice, but it comes out rough, deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “You look… really good,” he says, eyes darting away, but his cheeks are bright pink and his legs are spread, one big hand pressed flat over his thigh as if he’s trying to will his erection away.
Taehyun lets out a shaky laugh, running a hand through his hair, trying to play it off but failing spectacularly. “Yeah. Holy shit, you—uh—yeah, you look fucking amazing.” He tries to keep his eyes on your face, but they keep dropping, devouring every inch of skin the dress shows off. His cock is aching, throbbing, straining against his zipper. He tries to adjust himself again, praying you won’t notice, sweat prickling at the back of his neck.
The silence stretches, thick and heavy, their gazes all over you. You squirm, shifting your weight, the fabric riding up your thighs. You tug it down, awkward and mortified. “I feel stupid,” you admit, voice trembling. “It’s too tight. I look like I’m trying too hard.”
Yeonjun swallows hard, biting his tongue to keep from blurting out what he really thinks. You look like you’re trying to make me cum in my pants. Instead, he forces a grin, his gaze gentle but hungry. “You don’t. Trust me. If anyone gives you shit tonight, I’ll—” He breaks off, catching himself, voice hoarse. “I’ll handle it.”
Taehyun nods, a little too fast, fists clenching in his lap. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s thinking, because he can’t stop picturing you straddling his lap, the way your thighs would spread, the way the dress would hike up and show everything. He wonders if you’re even wearing panties under there. He can’t help it—he imagines pushing your knees apart, just to see. His cock throbs painfully and he shifts again, making a show of leaning forward, elbows on his knees, anything to keep you from seeing the tent in his pants.
You fumble with the hem, looking like you want to disappear. “So it’s not… too much?”
Taehyun manages to shake his head, but he can barely look at you, because if he does, he’s going to say something filthy, something like ‘no, it’s not enough, let me see more, let me taste you, please’. Instead he laughs, soft and low. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Don’t change.”
Yeonjun nods, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes blood, his cock twitching again under the pillow. He wants to get up, walk across the room, press you up against the wall and tell you every dirty thing he’s ever thought about you. How many nights he’s jerked off thinking about your moans, your face twisted up with pleasure, how desperate he is to bury his face between your thighs and make you forget every single insecurity you’ve ever had. But he can’t. Not yet. So he just stares, trying to memorize every inch, every curve, every tremble in your lip, eyes dark and heavy with lust.
You shift your weight, chewing your bottom lip, glasses slipping down your nose. “You guys are just saying that. You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
Yeonjun’s eyes go hot, frustrated, the need rising inside him so intense he can barely sit still. If only you fucking knew, he thinks. If only you could see the way he’s fighting not to palm his hard cock right there in front of you. He glances at Taehyun, sees the same tension in his jaw, the way his hand keeps sneaking down to adjust himself, how he keeps staring at your thighs.
Taehyun’s mind is filthy. He wants to see you bend over in that dress, wants to watch it ride up your ass, wants to see you blushing, gasping, begging. He wants to push your glasses up and kiss every inch of your face, wants to feel your thighs tremble around his head. He’s never been so hard in his life and he’s pissed about it, because there’s no way you don’t notice the bulge in his pants, the way he keeps fidgeting, sweat shining at his temples.
You take a shaky breath, still standing there in the middle of the living room, the boys both ogling you, trying and failing to look normal. You don’t move, don’t even realize how much they’re suffering, how close they are to saying fuck the party and dragging you back to bed, but neither of them wants to ruin it, neither of them wants to scare you, so they sit there, hard as rocks, eyes glued to you and breathing you in, drowning in their own filthy fantasies.
Yeonjun manages to find a shred of self-control, scraping his nails along the throw pillow, knuckles white. “You look incredible, okay? Just… trust us.” His voice is soft, but his eyes are hungry, dragging over every inch of you like he’s undressing you with his mind.
Taehyun just nods, a strangled sound escaping him, legs spread wide and cock visibly straining against his jeans. He doesn’t care if you notice anymore. He wants you to see. He wants you to know.
You look between them, still shy, still unsure, but you let yourself breathe. You let yourself stand a little taller. You let the dress hug your curves and let their gazes linger, hot and messy and wanting.
Neither of them blink. Both are hard, desperate, and praying you’ll stay in that dress a little longer, that the party lasts forever, that you never go back to hiding yourself again.
The night air pricks at your skin, every breeze a reminder of just how much skin you’re showing. You, Taehyun, and Yeonjun pile into the back of the Uber—Taehyun sliding in first, Yeonjun quick to follow, practically boxing you in between their bodies. The driver offers a polite hello, but you barely manage more than a mumbled “hi,” too busy tugging at the hem of your dress, trying to keep it from riding up your thighs, palms already clammy on your little bag.
Taehyun sits closest to the door, his left hand tucked into his pocket, the other resting casually on his knee, but you feel the occasional graze of his pinky against your leg—a touch so light it sends a jolt through your body each time .The streetlights paint quicksilver patterns over his sharp jaw as he turns to check on you, his mouth quirking in a grin when he catches you fussing with your dress.
Yeonjun’s on your other side, all nervous energy and crooked smiles, his thigh pressed against yours, warm through the thin fabric. He nudges your shoulder, his breath hot in your ear as he leans in to whisper, “You keep messing with it, it’s gonna get even shorter.” He’s teasing, pretending not to notice the way your hand keeps shaking or how you keep glancing at your reflection in the window, checking your lipstick, making sure your glasses aren’t sliding down your nose.
The car is quiet except for the low hum of the radio and the sound of the driver occasionally clearing his throat. Every time you pass under a streetlamp, you feel the flicker of light and shadow skitter over your bare legs, your chest, the bit of thigh you can’t seem to hide no matter how you tug at your dress. Taehyun catches your eye and winks, murmuring, “Relax, you look fucking gorgeous.” You roll your eyes but your cheeks burn, heat pooling low in your belly.
Yeonjun leans back, stretching his arms along the back of the seat, his fingers ghosting over your shoulder. “Seriously,” he says, his voice so soft only you can hear, “stop stressing. You’re gonna be the hottest one there.” He says it with a playful edge, but there’s something else in his eyes—a hunger he doesn’t even try to hide.
You cross your legs, wishing the ride was over and wishing it would last forever all at once. You feel them both watching you in the dark glass, their gazes heavy and hungry, their bodies pressed close, the driver none the wiser to the mess of tension tangled up in the back seat. You don’t know whether you want to hide or climb into their laps, but the closer you get to the party, the more you realize: tonight, you’re not invisible. Not even a little.
When the Uber finally pulls to a stop at Beomgyu’s place, Taehyun slides out first, straightening his jacket, reaching in to help you out. Yeonjun lingers close behind, his hand pressed low to your back as the driver gives a distracted “have a good night,” but the real heat is all in the way your roommates look at you, like they’re already planning to ruin you before the night is even half over.
And as you step out onto the curb, the music thumping from the house, the porch crowded with strangers, you finally let your hands fall from your dress. Taehyun and Yeonjun fall in close on either side, protective and proud.
Yeonjun circles around to your side, his presence warm and steady. He flashes you a quick, reassuring grin, but even his eyes can’t hide the flicker of pride—like he knows exactly what you’re feeling, and he wants you to see yourself the way he sees you. Taehyun is close on your other side, hovering just behind, his hand finding the small of your back, thumb tracing slow circles there as you start toward the house.
It’s a short walk—twenty steps, maybe less—but it feels like a runway. Every stride is a performance you never rehearsed. The party is already in full swing: people are sprawled on the porch, cigarettes glowing between their fingers, laughter peeling out into the night. Someone’s perched in the open kitchen window, legs dangling, their face turning just as you pass by.
You keep your gaze glued to the cracks in the pavement, heart in your throat. But you feel them—the stares, the whispered comments, the way a group of guys clustered by the bushes fall silent, then burst into laughter, a little too loud, their eyes following your every step. Girls in crop tops and glossy lips cast quick, sharp glances your way, sizing up your dress, your body, your awkward posture.
You hug your arms a little tighter around yourself, fighting the urge to bolt. Are they judging me? Are they laughing? The question spins in your head, louder than the music now. Your face is on fire, and your steps falter just a little.
Yeonjun leans in, voice low, close to your ear. “Ignore them,” he murmurs, not for the first time tonight. “They’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you, that’s all.”
Taehyun’s hand squeezes your waist, steady, grounding. “Almost there,” he teases, trying to make you laugh, but you know he’s watching, too—ready to step in if anyone gets bold.
You reach the bottom of the steps. The porch is crowded, bodies pressed together, red plastic cups in every hand, the air thick with the smell of beer and cologne and anticipation. The front door swings open, spilling yellow light and more noise onto the lawn. Someone recognizes Taehyun, claps him on the shoulder, and he just grins, tugging you closer, protective and proud.
Your heart stutters. You force yourself to look up, just for a second. And you see it—all the eyes on you, every head turning, every conversation pausing as you pass, some people’s gazes hungry, some surprised, some appraising, but none of them laughing.
You swallow, shoulders back, trying to remember how to breathe. One night, you remind yourself. Just one night.
You step through the door, squeezed between Yeonjun and Taehyun, and the party swallows you whole.
Inside is chaos. Pulsing music, sweat, the sickly-sweet tang of alcohol in the air. Beomgyu is already trashed, hugging strangers and shouting over the music, waving you all inside. “Look at you! Damn, who is this?” he calls, waggling his eyebrows at you, but Taehyun flips him off with a grin, keeping you close as you push through the crush of bodies.
You barely register the blur of faces, the heat of the house, the way the bass thrums through your bones. You can’t tell if people are staring because you look ridiculous or because—just maybe—you look good. It’s dizzying. You try to keep your head down, avoiding every gaze, but Taehyun and Yeonjun don’t let you hide.
Taehyun leans close, voice pitched low against your ear. “You okay?”
You nod, though your hands are shaking. Yeonjun snags a solo cup from the kitchen counter, thrusting it into your grip. “Here, this’ll help. Trust us.” He flashes you that wicked little smile that always gets him out of trouble, but tonight it’s softer, almost nervous.
You take a sip, then another, the burn of cheap liquor making your cheeks warm, your muscles slacken. Taehyun is next to you, refilling his cup, eyes scanning the crowd, keeping you boxed in like he’s daring anyone to come near. Yeonjun nudges your hip, making you giggle, and suddenly it’s easier—every laugh, every little touch, the boys propping you up, the drinks going down too fast.
One shot turns to three, turns to four. Someone brings over a bottle of something blue and sweet, and Taehyun pours you a cup, insisting you have to at least try it. Yeonjun takes a shot for every one you do, all bravado and bad jokes, his hand pressed low against your back every time you take a drink, his body leaning into yours, letting his lips graze your ear as he makes you laugh. You’re warm all over now—liquid courage fizzing in your veins, nerves melting away, music thumping through your chest.
After a while, you stop noticing the stares. You start laughing too loudly, your body buzzing and loose, your inhibitions unraveling with every new song and every accidental brush of Taehyun’s hand against your waist, Yeonjun’s knee pressed to yours as you all cram together on a too-small sofa.
Yeonjun’s hand keeps drifting, “accidentally” resting on your bare thigh for a beat too long, thumb tracing gentle, lazy circles over your skin while he tells you some dumb story. Taehyun leans in from your other side, close enough that his breath stirs the hairs at your temple, his hand splayed warm over your lower back, thumb tapping, tapping, tapping, as if he can’t stand not to be touching you. Their bodies are heavy, warm, everywhere. The drinks make everything blurry and bright, their laughter mixing with the music, your heart thumping double-time every time they look at you for a second too long.
Yeonjun can’t stop thinking about how you look in the dress. He’s drunk enough now that his self-control is unraveling, every touch an excuse to get closer. The way the fabric hugs your hips, the way your thighs spread out on the sofa, the soft spill of your breasts just barely contained by the neckline. He wants to slide his hand up, to find the skin under the hem, to press his mouth to the hollow of your throat and bite down just to hear you whimper. His cock’s been aching since you stepped out of your room—hard as stone and twitching every time you laugh, every time you lean into him, your arm brushing his, your scent filling his head. He’s thinking about fucking you right here, about getting you alone in the bathroom and hiking the dress up, making you sit on the counter while he mouths at your pussy until you’re crying his name. He shouldn’t be thinking this. You’re his friend. His roommate. But with every drink, every shy little glance, he forgets why he’s supposed to hold back.
Taehyun’s in just as deep. He’s watching you laugh, cheeks flushed, glasses sliding down your nose, your mouth slick and pink from the sticky drinks. He’s imagining you on your knees, the dress pooling around your thighs, your mouth opening for him, spit trailing down your chin as you look up with those big, nervous eyes. He can’t stop touching you—his hand finding excuses to graze your waist, his thigh pressed so hard to yours he can feel the heat of you, can feel you trembling just a little every time he moves. He’s drunk and stupid, but all he wants is to mark you up, to make you squirm, to see just how messy you can get for him.
You don’t know any of this. All you know is you feel good—the drinks, the music, your body loose and alive for the first time in ages. The boys keep you close, never leaving your side, their hands on your waist, your thigh, your shoulder. You’re so warm you could melt, giddy with the attention, your insecurities drowned in the tide of their touches and the haze of alcohol.
Eventually, the music shifts, the beat deepening, the crowd thickening in the living room. Someone calls out for everyone to dance, and Taehyun tugs you up, grinning, dragging you and Yeonjun out to the floor. You stumble a little, giggling, the boys’ hands steadying you, their arms wrapped around you from both sides. The dance floor is packed, sweaty, pulsing with bodies and heat and neon lights.
Yeonjun presses up behind you, hands settling on your hips, his body big and hard and so close you can feel every inch. Taehyun is in front, hands on your waist, his face bright with laughter, but his eyes are dark, hungry, almost predatory as they trace over your flushed skin. The three of you start moving—awkward at first, bumping and giggling, but the music is so loud and the drinks so heavy that you lose yourself in it, hips swaying, arms draped over Taehyun’s shoulders, Yeonjun’s chest pressed flush against your back.
You’re sandwiched between them, every movement a tease, every sway of your hips grinding your ass against Yeonjun’s crotch, your belly brushing up against Taehyun’s abs. Yeonjun’s hands tighten on your waist, his breath hot against your ear, chest heaving as he rocks his hips forward, cock stiff and pulsing in his jeans. He can’t help himself—he starts grinding, slow and subtle at first, but the friction is too much, his mind gone, lost in the need to feel more. He’s thinking about grabbing your hair, about bending you over right here, about pressing his cock up between your thighs until you’re dripping for him, not caring who sees.
Taehyun’s grip slips lower, his hands sliding to your hips, then lower still, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass as you grind into him. His cock is throbbing, hard and leaking, every brush of your body sending electric shocks straight through him. He starts to move in time with you, his hips rolling, his chest brushing your tits as you press closer. He can smell you—sweet, a little sweaty, that vanilla note that drives him fucking wild. His thoughts are filthier than ever: he’s picturing you riding him, moaning, dress bunched up around your waist, his hands leaving bruises on your thighs.
You lose track of the music, the people around you. All you feel is heat, their bodies pressed to yours, their hands everywhere—your waist, your hips, your ass, fingers digging in, kneading, groping, holding you in place as you move together. You throw your head back, laughing, grinding harder, the alcohol making you bold, careless, reckless.
Yeonjun growls low in your ear, lips brushing your neck. “You’re fucking killing me, you know that?” His hands slide up, cupping your sides, fingers grazing the swell of your tits through the thin fabric. His cock is so hard it hurts, pressed against your ass, every little grind making him bite his tongue to keep from moaning.
Taehyun leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, voice hot and ragged. “You look so fucking good. You have no idea what you’re doing to us.” His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer, grinding his cock against your stomach, desperate for more.
You’re lost in them, the world fading away, nothing but heat and sweat and the desperate friction of three bodies moving together, lost in the music, lost in the alcohol, lost in the messy, tangled need that’s been simmering under the surface for months. You don’t care who sees. You don’t care if people are watching. For the first time, you feel wanted—really wanted, every insecurity stripped away by the way they hold you, touch you, lose themselves in you.
The dance gets messier, filthier, their hands exploring, squeezing, teasing, never quite crossing that final line but coming so close you ache for more. Yeonjun grinds into your ass, groaning softly, his mind a wreck of dirty fantasies: you on your knees, you on the couch, you begging for his cock, begging for both of them at once. Taehyun is just as gone, grinding into your front, hands slipping dangerously close to places he shouldn’t touch, his mouth ghosting over your cheek, your jaw, wanting to kiss you, wanting to ruin you.
You’re dizzy, panting, your head spinning from the alcohol and the attention, the way their hands feel on your skin, the way their cocks press into you from both sides. You arch your back, pressing harder into Yeonjun, rolling your hips against Taehyun, your body burning with need you didn’t know you had. You want to be touched, to be devoured, to be theirs.
But the song changes, the moment snaps, and suddenly you’re all laughing, breathless, the world rushing back in. The boys pull you close, hugging you tight, but their hands linger, their eyes dark and desperate, every thought they have written plain across their faces. You don’t know how you’re going to survive the rest of the night. You don’t know how you’re going to keep pretending this is all just fun, just friends.
And neither do they.
They’re both so hard it hurts, so desperate for you it’s a miracle they haven’t dragged you into the nearest empty room and made you theirs. Every brush, every laugh, every sloppy grind is another drop in the ocean, another crack in the dam. The line between friendship and something more is long gone—blown apart by heat and need and the feel of your body between theirs.
But for now, you’re still just dancing. Still just friends. Still pretending you don’t know exactly what’s happening.
You’re burning. Your skin tingles, dress sticking to the sweat at the back of your thighs, every nerve alive and frantic. You barely register the song blaring through the speakers or the crush of bodies moving around you. All you know is the way Taehyun’s hands keep grazing the bare skin of your waist, the way Yeonjun’s mouth ghosts so close to your ear, the feeling of two hard cocks pressed against you through layers of fabric—making you so wet and needy you’re honestly scared you’re going to do something stupid. It’s like the whole room has narrowed down to the three of you: the bass, the heat, the taste of cheap vodka clinging to your lips, their hands and hips and breath all tangled up in yours.
But eventually you realize you need air—or at least space to catch your breath, maybe cool down your face and thighs before you lose your mind. You pull back, but their hands linger, Taehyun’s thumb dragging slow over your hip, Yeonjun’s palm sliding along your back, his fingers curling in the strap of your dress like he can’t let go. “Hey,” you say, breathless and trying to sound casual, “I gotta use the bathroom.”
Taehyun’s mouth dips, eyes flicking down your body, like he’s memorizing the way you look right now. “You want us to come with you?” he teases, voice pitched low—almost growly.
You laugh and shove at his shoulder, but you can’t help glancing down, too aware of the heat swirling in your belly. “I think I can handle it,” you say, and he finally lets you go, his touch trailing off slow, deliberate. Yeonjun grins, but it’s strained—his hand squeezing your waist a beat longer than necessary before dropping away. You feel them watching as you push through the crowd, the air thick with sweat and hormones and the sticky sweetness of spilled drinks.
Your skin’s on fire as you wind through the house, the music dimming behind you. You spot a bathroom down the hall, but before you can reach for the handle, someone steps in your path—a guy with fluffy brown hair, tall and broad-shouldered, kind eyes under soft brows. He’s leaning against the wall like he’s been waiting, but when he smiles, it’s open and shy, nothing like the cocky frat boys you’re used to dodging at these parties.
“Hey,” he says, voice just loud enough to cut through the noise. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to block you—are you looking for the bathroom?”
You nod, blinking up at him, mind still hazy from the dancing and the drinks. He smiles wider, tucking his hands into his pockets, and for some reason you find yourself relaxing just a bit. “It’s actually a little tricky to find. I’m Jake.” He extends his hand and you shake it, cheeks hot. “You look like you’re having a good time out there.”
You shrug, giggling, trying not to let your eyes dart back to the dance floor where you know Taehyun and Yeonjun are probably still staring holes in your back. “I guess so. The drinks help,” you joke, and Jake laughs, the sound warm and sincere.
He’s not like most guys at these parties—he’s not leering, not ogling, not even glancing down your dress, though you know you’re basically spilling out of it by now. He’s looking right at you, listening, his posture easy, smile inviting. You don’t see the way his gaze lingers just a little too long on your mouth, or the way his eyes soften when you laugh. To you, he just seems… nice.
Jake’s asking you questions—how you know Beomgyu, whether you’re in school, if you live around here. You answer honestly, a little more bubbly than usual thanks to the vodka, warmth blooming in your cheeks. He tells you he’s friends with Sunghoon, that he doesn’t come out much, but he’s glad he did tonight. “Honestly, it’s not so bad when you meet someone interesting,” he says, and you beam, genuinely touched. You don’t realize he means you, that he’s flirting, that he’s trying to get close.
He leans in, just a little, voice dropping lower. “You’re really cute, by the way. Sorry, I just had to say it.”
You laugh, waving him off, not quite believing he means it. “You’re sweet, but I’m kind of a mess tonight,” you protest, but Jake just grins, shaking his head. “No, really. You look great. Way better than most people here, trust me.”
The conversation’s easy—easier than you expected. You start to relax, thinking maybe you’re not as out of place as you always fear. Maybe you could even make a new friend. You’re so wrapped up in your own awkward happiness that you don’t notice the dark eyes burning into you from across the room.
Back by the edge of the dance floor, Taehyun and Yeonjun are glued to you, barely pretending to enjoy the music, all their attention honed on the way Jake leans in, the way he makes you laugh, the way his hand lingers just a little too close to your bare arm.
Yeonjun’s jaw clenches so tight his teeth ache. He’d watched you slip away, his cock still half-hard and aching from the dance floor, chest tight with the memory of your body pressed to his, your ass grinding against his dick like you fucking knew what you were doing. He was still lightheaded, body thrumming with need, and the only thing keeping him sane was the way you’d smiled at him before you left, shy and a little tipsy, eyes shining with that soft, hesitant hope he never saw in anyone else. But now, watching some other guy step into your space, watching you laugh at his stupid jokes, watching Jake inch closer and closer, Yeonjun feels something dark coil in his gut.
He wants to march over and grab you, wants to press his mouth to yours and remind you who you belong to. He wants to tell Jake to fuck off, that you’re taken, that you’ve always been his, even if you don’t know it yet. Every muscle in his body is tight, cock twitching in his jeans, his mind a mess of jealousy and raw, possessive want. He tries to tell himself it’s nothing, that you’re just being friendly, that Jake’s just another random guy. But the way you smile, the way your hand lingers on Jake’s forearm, the way you lean in when he whispers something in your ear—Yeonjun feels like he’s going to explode.
Taehyun’s no better. He’s been riding the high of your body on his all night, the way you fit so perfectly between him and Yeonjun, the way you melted against him on the dance floor, every soft sound and breath sending sparks through his body. Now, watching Jake with you, his blood runs hot, jealousy pulsing low in his gut. He’s never seen you smile like that, never seen you so at ease with anyone but him and Yeonjun. It pisses him off, even though he knows he has no right. He’s been dying to touch you all night, to claim you, to make you his—now some random party guy is stealing your attention, and Taehyun’s fists clench at his sides, jaw working, cock pressing painfully against the fly of his jeans.
He sees Jake’s hand reach out, fingertips brushing your bare arm, and that’s it. Both boys move at the same time, breaking away from the edge of the floor, crossing the room in a beeline for you, barely avoiding bumping into people as they make a beeline for your side.
Jake’s hand lingers, gentle and perfectly polite, his eyes soft as he says, “Hey, are you sure you’re okay? You looked a little overwhelmed back there.”
Before you can answer, Yeonjun’s suddenly at your side, slipping between you and Jake, his body blocking the guy from view. “Hey! There you are, we’ve been looking everywhere,” he says, voice high and fake-bright. Taehyun’s there too, dropping an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you tight, his smile all teeth, eyes dark as he sizes up Jake.
Jake blinks, surprised, looking between the two of them and you. “Oh, uh—sorry, I was just showing her where the bathroom was.”
Yeonjun gives a tight laugh. “Yeah? Well, we can take it from here. Thanks, man.”
Taehyun’s grip on your shoulder tightens, his hand sliding down your arm to your waist, fingers digging in, his touch possessive, almost desperate. “Did you need something, Jake?” he asks, voice even, but his eyes are sharp, daring the other boy to say yes.
Jake laughs, awkward now, glancing at you, then back at them. “No, I was just chatting. Didn’t realize she was, uh—” He trails off, suddenly sheepish, stepping back as he realizes what he’s walked into. “Sorry, I’ll let you guys have your night. It was nice meeting you,” he says to you, and then he’s gone, melting into the crowd with an embarrassed smile.
You blink, confused, glancing between your roommates. “What was that?” you ask, voice slurred with alcohol and confusion. “Why’d you both rush over like that?”
Yeonjun just grins, but there’s no humor in it—his jaw tight, his eyes wild. “We were just making sure you’re okay. That guy seemed… persistent.”
Taehyun nods, steering you away from the bathroom and back toward the front door, his hand never leaving your waist. “You never know with these parties. Some guys can’t take a hint.”
You frown, still not getting it, but the way their hands are on you—every touch lingering, every glance heavy with something you can’t name—makes your stomach flip. “He was just being nice,” you protest, but they don’t answer, ushering you toward the coat closet, helping you into your jacket, hands all over you under the guise of helping, brushing down your arms, smoothing your dress, squeezing your shoulders.
They herd you out the front door, Yeonjun’s arm around your waist, Taehyun’s hand at your lower back, steering you down the steps and into the cool night air. The drive home is quiet, tense, the three of you crammed into the backseat of the rideshare, your head spinning from the drinks and the music and the way their bodies are pressed close on either side. You can feel the heat radiating off them, the way their legs press against yours, the way Taehyun’s hand settles on your thigh and stays there, warm and heavy, thumb rubbing slow, lazy circles on your skin.
You turn to look at Yeonjun, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the window, his thigh pressed tight to yours. “Seriously,” you say, voice small. “What was that? Why did you guys act so weird with Jake? He was just talking.”
Neither of them answers right away. Taehyun squeezes your thigh a little tighter, his jaw working, eyes fixed on the back of the driver’s seat. Yeonjun just sighs, shifting in his seat, his hand coming up to rest on your other knee, fingers splayed wide, possessive.
The silence hangs, heavy and electric, their hands on you, their bodies close, jealousy simmering just below the surface. You’re left squirming between them, dizzy with confusion and desire, your mind racing with questions you can’t ask, your body aching for answers you’re not sure you’re ready to hear.
You stare out the window, city lights blurring past, your heart pounding in your chest, the night spinning out behind you—every look, every touch, every unspoken thing thrumming between you, thicker and heavier than ever before. And as Taehyun’s thumb keeps stroking your thigh, and Yeonjun’s grip tightens on your knee, you realize you’re not the only one desperate for something more.
The three of you stumble inside, the apartment door barely clicking shut before you’re pushing out of your shoes, blinking in the familiar soft light of home. You’re still a little drunk, mind whirling, heat throbbing between your legs. Your dress is riding up again, your thighs sticky, and you can’t stop thinking about the way Taehyun’s hand kept squeezing your leg in the car, or the way Yeonjun kept looking at you like he wanted to fucking eat you. You’re confused, burning up inside, needing answers but not even sure what the questions are anymore.
You tug at the hem of your dress, shuffling into the living room, words tripping out of you before you can stop yourself. “Seriously, guys, what was all that with Jake? Why did you—?” But you don’t get to finish. Yeonjun’s on you first, backing you against the wall, his chest pressed to yours, his hand sliding up under your jaw, tipping your head back. His eyes are wild, blown wide and dark, pupils swallowing up the brown. You barely register the sound of Taehyun locking the door behind you before Yeonjun crashes his mouth onto yours—hungry, messy, desperate.
You gasp, shock freezing you for half a heartbeat, but then Taehyun’s behind you, his hands gripping your hips, his chest hot and heavy against your back, his breath scorching your ear. Yeonjun’s tongue pushes into your mouth, wet and greedy, tasting of vodka and need. He groans, low and filthy, grinding his hips against yours, his cock already hard and thick in his jeans, pressing into your belly through the fabric. You moan into his mouth, caught between the two of them, their bodies crowding you, their hands everywhere at once.
Taehyun’s mouth finds your neck, teeth scraping over your pulse, biting just hard enough to make you gasp. His hands are rough, sliding up your dress, grabbing fistfuls of your ass, squeezing until your legs tremble. “You fucking killed us tonight,” he growls against your skin, voice deep and raw. “Walking around in this little dress like you don’t know what you’re doing. Letting every guy at the party stare at what’s ours.”
Yeonjun pulls back just enough to speak, his lips slick, swollen, voice ruined. “You didn’t see the way they looked at you, did you? Didn’t see Jake undressing you with his fucking eyes?” His hand slides down your body, palming your tit through the fabric, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you whine. “You were too busy playing dumb, weren’t you? Fucking clueless.”
You gasp, dazed, heart beating out of your chest. “I—I wasn’t—he was just being nice, I didn’t—”
Taehyun cuts you off with a snarl, his hands sliding up, yanking your dress higher, exposing the soft curve of your stomach, the tops of your thighs. “Doesn’t matter. You’re not nice to anyone but us now, got it? Fuck, look at you—so needy, so desperate to be fucked. Can’t stand seeing you with anyone else.” He ruts against your ass, grinding his cock between your cheeks, moaning when you arch back into him.
Yeonjun pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other sliding down, hiking your dress up around your waist, baring your panties—soaked through, sticky and dark. “Look at this. Look how fucking wet you are. All because we touched you in front of everyone, huh? You like being shown off, don’t you? Like being our little slut?”
You whimper, body shaking, but you can’t deny it. The way they’re talking to you, the way their hands are all over you, the filthy words pouring into your ears—your brain is short-circuiting. “Please,” you beg, not even sure what you’re asking for, “please, I need—”
Yeonjun kisses you again, teeth clacking, tongue fucking into your mouth, while Taehyun yanks your panties down your thighs, baring your pussy to the cool air. His fingers slide through your folds, rough and unyielding, circling your clit, pressing in until your knees buckle. “You need what, baby?” Taehyun breathes, voice mocking but so fucking hot. “Need to be fucked, right here, against the wall? Want us to ruin you?”
You nod frantically, hips rolling, chasing every scrap of pleasure they give you. Yeonjun’s grip on your wrists tightens, holding you helpless, his mouth never leaving yours, breath mixing, teeth biting your lips until you whine.
Taehyun kneels behind you, face pressed to your ass, tongue licking a fat, slow stripe up your pussy. You cry out, squirming, but Yeonjun just laughs, pinning you harder, his cock grinding into your stomach, leaking precum into his jeans. Taehyun eats you like a man starved, tongue fucking into you, lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and moaning, hands bruising your thighs as he holds you open. The wet sounds are obscene, spit and slick and desperate groans, his nose bumping your ass as he devours you.
“God, you taste so fucking good,” Taehyun groans, tongue flicking fast over your clit, making your hips buck. “Could eat this pussy all night. So wet for us, fuck.”
Yeonjun lets go of your wrists, both hands coming down to yank your tits free of the dress, palming them roughly, squeezing, thumbs flicking over your nipples until you’re whining. He bites your jaw, your ear, voice harsh and filthy. “You want everyone to see you like this? Want them to know how much you love being used?”
You’re a mess—moaning, babbling, begging for more, your body on fire. Taehyun stands, mouth shiny with your slick, eyes blown black, grinning as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Bed. Now.”
They drag you to Taehyun’s room, your dress bunched up, panties tangled around your ankles, tits out and bouncing with every step. The door barely clicks shut before they’re on you again, Taehyun pushing you onto the bed, Yeonjun stripping off his shirt, jeans, boxers, cock springing free—thick, flushed, leaking. He strokes himself, eyes locked on you, tongue dragging over his lower lip.
Taehyun rips your dress the rest of the way off, tossing it aside, kneeling between your thighs, spreading you wide. “Look at you,” he breathes, voice reverent and cruel. “So fucking pretty. So fucking slutty. You want us to fuck you, baby? Want to feel both of us?”
You nod, biting your lip, shivering with need. “Please, please, I need it—need you so bad, I can’t—”
Yeonjun climbs onto the bed, caging you in, his cock smearing precum across your stomach as he leans down, kissing you deep, messy, tongue fucking into your mouth. Taehyun lines himself up, cock thick and hot against your dripping entrance, pushing in slow, relentless, stretching you wide until you’re crying out, nails digging into Yeonjun’s shoulders.
“Shit, she’s so fucking tight,” Taehyun groans, hips jerking as he bottoms out, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you wider. “So fucking good. You feel that, princess? Feel how hard you make me?”
Yeonjun kisses your tears away, cock pressed to your lips. “Open up,” he commands, voice gravel and hunger. “Let me fuck that pretty mouth. Need you to choke on me, baby. Need to see you drool.”
You open wide, tongue lolling, eyes rolling back as he slides his cock past your lips, down your throat, one hand tangled in your hair, the other stroking your cheek. He starts slow, but quickly loses control, thrusting into your mouth, spit and precum dripping down your chin. “Fuck, fuck, you’re perfect,” he pants, hips snapping, voice breaking. “Such a good girl, taking it so deep. Bet you’d let anyone use you, wouldn’t you? But you’re ours. Ours to fuck, ours to ruin.”
Taehyun’s fucking you hard, hips slamming into your ass, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room, your wetness loud and slick. He slaps your thigh, grabs your belly, leans over to bite your shoulder, marking you up. “Fucking take it, baby,” he snarls. “Take it all. Look how cockdrunk you are already. Can’t get enough, can you?”
You moan around Yeonjun’s cock, tears spilling down your cheeks, spit and drool everywhere, eyes wild and desperate. You’re choking, spluttering, but loving every second, every filthy word, every rough thrust. You’ve never felt so wanted, so full, so fucking alive.
Yeonjun pulls out, stroking his cock over your face, smearing precum across your lips. “You look so fucking good like this. Ruined. Just for us.” He leans down, kissing you hard, licking the spit off your chin, biting your bottom lip until you whine.
Taehyun flips you over, ass in the air, face pressed to the mattress. He slides back in, deeper this time, pounding you so hard the bed shakes, your tits bouncing with every thrust. Yeonjun kneels in front of you, sliding his cock between your tits, fucking your cleavage, moaning as he watches your lips part, tongue flicking out to catch the tip every time he thrusts forward.
“You like this, huh?” Yeonjun pants, voice filthy. “Like being used? Like being our little fucktoy? Look at you—so eager, so messy. Bet Jake would shit himself if he saw you now.”
Taehyun grunts, slapping your ass, grabbing a fistful of hair, yanking your head back so he can watch your face. “You’re never looking at another guy again. Not after tonight. You’re ours. Say it.”
You sob, body shaking, completely overwhelmed. “Yours. I’m yours. Please, please don’t stop—”
They both laugh, dark and cruel, but there’s so much love in it, too. “Good girl,” Yeonjun breathes, fucking your tits harder, hips stuttering. “So fucking good for us. So perfect.”
Taehyun’s thrusts go ragged, his voice breaking. “Gonna cum in this tight fucking pussy, baby. Gonna fill you up, make sure everyone knows you’re taken. You want that? Want us to breed you?”
You nod, mindless, begging for it. “Yes, please, want it, need it—”
Yeonjun grabs your face, kisses you messy, then pulls back, jerking his cock over your mouth, moaning as he cums—hot and thick, painting your tongue, your lips, your chin. Taehyun follows, slamming into you one last time, spilling deep inside, filling you so full you can feel it dripping down your thighs.
You collapse, boneless, ruined, their hands gentle now as they stroke your skin, kiss your cheeks, praise you, mock you, love you all at once.
“You’re ours now,” Taehyun whispers, wrapping you in his arms, cock still twitching inside you. “Only ours.”
Yeonjun pulls you into his lap, kissing your forehead, his hands still roaming, greedy and soft. “No more parties without us. No more flirting with other guys. You belong to us, got it?”
You nod, dazed and fucked-out, their cum sticky on your skin, your body aching, your heart finally, finally full.
And in the quiet after, all three of you tangled together, you realize you’ve never been so happy to be ruined.
Wdyt about beomgyu being classified as omega by moas? Personally i think he’s an alpha, a really hot alpha.
Honestly i don’t see any TXT members as an omega, i feel like masculine men can be pretty but doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re feminine. what are your thoughts?? Do you read a lot of ABO? I used to read (still do) a lot of ABO fics lol
sit with me and let's talk about alpha!txt
alpha!yeonjun is probably one of those tyrannical types of alphas. he loves control over people. he knows what kind of power he possesses, and he uses them very well in manipulating and deceiving others.
alpha!yeonjun doesn't hesitate in stepping over boundaries, thinking that no one could ever stop him with the amount of authority he shows on people. especially when it comes to his favorite omega—you. he is the type of alpha that always reminds you that you are nothing without him. that obeying him would be the only way to survive this world. he is also the type to establish rules, such as you can never say no to him.
alpha!yeonjun has a stamina you could never underestimate. he could pound your perfectly tight pussy everyday, only if you are physically capable of coping up with him. and, as a man who loves control, of course, he has a breeding kink. mating sessions with him wouldn't be considered done if he has not filled you up with his warm glob of cum. yet sometimes, if he is in too much need, the thoughts of you having a frail body slip his mind. giving no fucks and continously drills his thick cock deep into your swollen cunt. you are just one of his possessions, anyway.
then, we have regal alpha!soobin. he is the type of those alpha who we can consider as the leader of a pack—not by dominance, not by authority, but through his compassion with his members. he might be considered as too passive to lead, but he is radical enough to know what is best for everyone.
alpha!soobin usually shoves his feelings away, prioritizing how he would maintain the structure and hierarchy of his pack. he believes that his duty is to always do better for the pack's welfare. he could be the epitome of selflessness. well, not until he met you.
alpha!soobin finally understood the concept of work-life balance when he got a taste of your body. he could never resist your sweet and heavenly scent that drives his senses crazy. having sex with you under his soft blankets could be one of his favorite things to do aside from managing the pack's status. his rough alpha side is rarely seen, often treating you like a fragile object he must carefully mend. but when it does, let's just say that your puffy cunt will be abused to the point that he would knot at you every single night.
alpha!beomgyu is probably one of those rebellious kinds. he is overly confident with himself, knowing how the independence of others works really well in his favor. he doesn't care about status or hierarchy. what he truly craves for is the power of freedom, with the belief that attaining it immediately puts himself above others.
alpha!beomgyu overly rejects the stereotypes of alphas being leaders. he doesn't need people to follow him. what he wants is a space where he can express himself without the others judging him. he is intrusive, often disregarded by his pack and labeled as a disappointment for leaving his responsibilities behind. despite his desire to express freely, he could still be emotionally distant and skeptical of everyone he meets.
alpha!beomgyu doesn't believe in rules. he curves them into his will. so it wouldn't be a shocker that he would be attracted to you—an omega who is already claimed by a beta. well, in his defense, it doesn't really count. not in his belief. and there is no way a beta could stop him from trespassing your home just to ram his heavy cock deep into your pussy walls. he couldn't care less if your poor beta mate found you two fucking in the sofa, with you shamelessly crying out his name as he reached the sensitive spot that your mate couldn't do. he would be even proud about it, picking up the pace between your sore legs while mockingly staring at your mate.
alpha!taehyun, with his high knowledge in logic and strategy, is the one who is considered as the pack's right-hand man. he doesn't act out of impulse. he is an opinionated alpha who always decides based on reason—a logical and systematic reason.
alpha!taehyun seldomly uses words, but when he does, it gives a lasting impact within his pack and its system. there is no situation where you see him undecided. he is always ten steps ahead of everyone, even his leader. often seen as composed, he also never imposes anything he didn't cross-check. he is an organized being that could he perceived as an unemotional individual. but, contrary to everyone's belief, he knows the value of emotions. that is why he is an expert of managing them carefully.
alpha!taehyun believes that even choosing his mate must be backed up with logic. thus, glancing at you for the first time pushed him into an existential crisis. to regain himself, he must act upon reason. how must he do that? by sneaking into your chamber and stoically explaining why you should let him be your mate. there is nothing you could do when you are faced with an intellectual alpha like him. within minutes, you are hovered by his muscular figure, back arching with the amount of pleasure his cock gives to your abdomen. you could hardly stifle a moan when his tip bumped into your sweet spot in every thrust, giving you no chance of thinking straight. seeing you under his mercy, he knew what he had to do. a defeaning squeal left you when his canine teeth plunged into your skin, marking and claiming you as his.
alpha!kai is one of those gentle alphas. he is well-aware of how he challenges the hierarchy and the stereotypes within his pack, and that makes him attain authority at some sort. what he values more is showing support than forcing control, often referred to as the emotional guardian, often relating with the lower class rather than his own.
alpha!kai is not hard to please. if ever, he is the type who totally accepts his vulnerability and is not afraid of voicing out his thoughts. he is emotionally intelligent, offering safety to his pack in the most gentle way possible. he is comfortable to be with, given with how observant he is with his surroundings. he could be protective, but in a quiet, non-restrictive way.
alpha!kai values communication, but only when it is about you. to an extent, he always seeks consent and validation. and the moment he hears it, there is in no world you could stop him from devouring you whole. as someone who is probably pent-up with tons of emotions, the only thing he could do is apologize when he lost control of his hips and couldn't slow down in rutting your ruined pussy. he would be the type to moan and whine rather than roughly groan, still showing an inch of delicateness. most times, his alpha instincts will go ahead of him, leading to a rough, nerve-wrecking mating session. leaving you all sore, wrecked, and with a stomach full of his pups.
HELLO ANON !! oh my goodness, you've been stuck in my ask for what feels like forever... i am so so sorry TT
anyway, to answer your last question, i seldomly read about omegaverse TT not that i am against them, i just haven't found the perfect time to delve deep into my library and pull out my bookmarked abo-related fics...
but i took some time to search about them just to answer your question. they are a bit complex, yet i still think i could offer you my humble opinion about txt + abo dynamics :p (pls tell me if i am wrong pls pls)
