A routine — a fantastic, addicting cycle that Yeonjun had.
It was a night like any other, in your apartment after work — the sun long set as you're cleaning up after making dinner, Yeonjun's portion stashed on the microwave for when he returns — but you know it would sit there longer.
You feel his presents in the room before you hear him — before you can even mutter his lips are on yours, his plush lips utterly consuming you whole. His hands are holding onto your face as if he's trying to ensure you won't leave, moaning into your mouth. The kiss is sloppy and needy — pathetically nipping on your bottom lip as one of his hands slip beneath your shorts —
And that's exactly what gets you into this situation.
Every
Single
Time.
You could barely make it to the bedroom — Yeonjun too desperate for you after an excruciating schedule, tumbling through the doors of your bedroom, pushing you onto the unmade bed crawling ontop of you.
His lips promptly attached back to yours, one of his hands holding your chin up to meet his kiss. You kiss back instantly, sucking on his plump bottom lip earning a small whimper from him. Both of you fighting for dominance in the kiss, both of you desperately chasing each other. His tongue glides over your lip, his tongue meeting yours as he moans at the feeling of your tongue against his.
When he pulls back unwillingly his lips are slicked with both of your spit, his eyes dark with desire as he looks down at you. Your own lips swollen, puffy and wet, parted — trying to catch your breath. He doesn't let you rest for too long. His fingers skim at the hem of your oversized pajama shirt, which is actually his.
He pulls the shirt off your frame, letting it fall onto the floor, unbothered about wherever it ended up. Yeonjun's eyes linger on you, your buds perked from the sudden change in temperature, he lets out a sound edging between a groan and a whine as he drinks you in, absolutely captivated by you under him.
You can barely breathe before his lips are back on you, pressing chase kisses on your lips, his need to feel you, all of you, making it impossible for him to stay still. His lips quickly attach to your neck, kissing down the column of your neck before kissing down the side of your neck slowly, sucking faint marks in his path.
When he finally pulls back from your neck he lingers; you can faintly feel his warm breath centimeters from your marked skin. When Yeonjun finally looks at you his expression is dazed, drunk on you.
"God you're beautiful.." His voice is strained, barely able to contain himself — you can feel him hard against your thigh, trying desperately to not rut into the soft plush skin of your thigh.
you let out a muddled comment he can't understand, too dazed and spent on you to fully grasp anything besides how you taste and feel. You can feel Yeonjun's hands all over you, his touch leaving a burning feeling over your warm skin, his fingers dip into your pajama shorts feeling you through your soaked panties — doing nothing to stop him from feeling you.
"J-jjunie —" you gasp out at the sudden feeling of his fingers catching at your clothed cunt, arching slightly into his touch making him let out a shakey breath.
"Fuck, you're unreal — all this f'me huh, baby?" Yeonjun coos in your ear, his voice unsteady — you can tell he's barely hanging on, his overwhelming need to be as close to you as possible.
Yeonjun's lips attach back to your skin, moaning against it as he kisses down your neck — leaving a sloppy trail of spit in his path. He's practically vibrating with need — his desire to feel you, to be consumed by you. Your perfume, whatever shampoo is lingering from your hair —its addicting.
He mumbles incoherent praises or nonsense into your skin as he moves down your chest, worshiping you with every kiss, his slicked lips kissing every inch of you like a prayer — like your a goddess he's vowed to forever — which you are to him.
If you allowed him — he would kiss you till his lips went numb — till all you could feel was him.
His lips move down your chest with devotion — his free hand holding onto your hip, grounding himself and you. he ghosts over one of your buds — making you let out a gasp, your fingers curling into his hair.
His teeth graze over the sensitive bud — savoring the whiny gasps you let out, Yeonjuns lips wrap around your nipple, his tongue pressing down on the bud — the sensation of his warm mouth on you makes you feel floaty — like if you or him let go, you'll drift away.
His teeth keep grazing the bud — moaning into your chest, fingers tightening on your hip as he relishes in how you feel against him, all for him, only him.
When he finally leaves your bud, its not for long — immediately attaching to your neglected nipple, giving it the same attention.
Yeonjun only pulls away when you pull him off — your tits feeling sensitive and leaving you needing more desperately.
When you pull him off, his eyes meet yours — dark and low, you can see the hunger in him. God he looks unreal, his pouty lips bruised and glossy — cheeks tinged a soft pink.
His lips don't stray from you, connecting to the flesh of your chest — sucking purple marks into the soft skin, nipping at it before pressing soft, reverend kisses on the forming bruises.
He kisses all over you — you can feel the cold air nip at the wet skin trailing from him, kissing all over your chest, down your torso. His body moving with him to press kisses above your belly button — his fingers skimming the edge of your shorts.
Heat radiates off you — the room stuffy and hot from the summer night and Yeonjun's body radiating pure warms.
His lips hover over the waistband, briefly looking up at you before pulling both your shorts and panties off your body in one motion.
You instinctively trying and clamp your thighs shut but he stops you, settling in between your thighs — pulling your legs over his shoulders.
He lets out a gutted sound — in between a groan and a whimper. God he needed this, needed you. Like you were the forbidden fruit he desperately craved.
His nose bumps your clit as he nuzzles into you — his tongue diving in, linking a long stripe up your cunt.
You hear him moan against you — like you're the one in between his legs. His lips attach to the sensitive bud — sucking hard, causing you to arching into him, pushing your cunt even more into his face.
A sharp whimper escapes your lips without warning. His lips detach from your clit, his tongue lapping up all your juices — his tongue prodding your entrance. Your breath ragged as you buck your hips into his face, causing his nose to brush against your clit, pulling a strained whimper from you.
"So good f'me huh, baby?" Yeonjun mumbles against your pussy — not sure if he's talking to you or it but fuck you can't be bothered to care. His hold on you is tight, not letting you squirm away even an inch — pulling you further down on his face. His mouth switching between licking through your folds sucking up all you have to give and toying with your needy clit.
It feels like he's trying to consume you whole — like he's trying to merge you both together so he can't tell where he ends and you start.
Your fingers tug on the strands of his hair, fidgeting and squirming under him — the pleasure is so so good. Your legs start feeling like mush — only aware they are there from Yeonjuns bruising grip to keep them around him.
Usually you would feel guilty, worried you're going to suffocate him but fuck.
The way he's devouring you — moaning into your pussy, you would and do think he's enjoying this more than you.
His tongue breaches your hole, pulling a loud moan from the back of your throat. The room filled with the smell of sex and the wet squelching of him worshiping your pussy. You can't even feel embarrassed — Yeonjun's movements and just him making you feel dizzy and unable to think of anything but his tongue and the orgasm he's coaxing you to.
Yeonjuns tongue is fucking into you at a speed you can barely comprehend, the sloppy and hungry movements are so good — and every so often at a particularly deep thrust of his tongue his nose nudges at your sore clit.
The way Yeonjun's moving — he's hungry. Like he's been waiting for this since he woke up, which he probably has, you make jokes about him being obsessed but to him — this is his solace. The way you feel under him — soft and so compliant to anything he wants, and fuck how you taste. He craves you after a day of schedules and after weeks of touring — nothing can soothe him like being in between your legs pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you.
And fuck — he gets off to it.
Yeonjun can feel his cock — rock hard at this point, all he can do is mindlessly hump into the sheets — the stimulation and your thighs around his head is enough for him.
Your nail nearly dig into his scalp from the pleasure — and when you manage to open your eyes to look at him you can't stop the moan that slips. The bottom of his face covered in wetness — slick and spit, his lips pink and plump covered in your juices. Fuck — the blissed out look on his face, his eyes scrunched in pleasure, you can faintly feel the movements of him humping helplessly into the mattress.
Every sound and touch feels amplified, Yeonjuns moans against your pussy causing vibrations that can only make you whimper in overwhelming pleasure. You can feel your orgasm coming quick, the knot in your stomach tighten with every lick and thrust of his skilled tongue.
Yeonjun can also feel his orgasm approaching — the taste of you and the friction from the desperate humping makes his brain go into overdrive — yearning to taste you, feel you come undone for him. His tongue attacks your sensitive clit — the unexpected jolt of pleasure sending you straight to your orgasm.
Yeonjun helps you rude out the orgasm, his tongue licking your slit and catching on your clit as you desperately grind against his face. Your thighs tighten around his head — your ears ringing as a string of incoherent moans and whimpers flea your lips.
As your orgasm slows so does Yeonjuns movements, not trying to overwhelm you. When your legs finally stop shaking uncontrollably and you can actually think without it being fuzzy. Your grip on his locks loosens, your chest rising and falling fast, trying to catch your breath from the overwhelming orgasm.
When you open your eyes you look down at Yeonjun — whose resting his head on your thigh, his gaze already on yours, with a shit eating grin.
"This is where you say thank you~" Yeonjun teases with a wide, fox like grin. You shove his head slightly letting out a breathed laugh.
'Fuck you." You say breathlessly with a small small in your lips.
"Maybe later." He says swiftly making you click your tongue, rolling your eyes at him.
When your head clears up slightly you sit up a bit — your hand making its way to him which he quickly grabs. pressing a kiss to your wrist.
"Jun —" you're about to protest when his free hand presses you back onto the mattress —unable to fight back, still weak from your orgasm.
"Don't worry 'bout me." He mumbles into the skin of your thigh, pressing a kiss onto it.
You're about to complain again when you realise why. "Oh"
"Yeah, 'oh'." He smirks against your skin before kissing up your thigh making his way into your cunt again.
genre: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, superhero au
synopsis: you never thought you’d meet spiderman. hell, you didn’t even like him. but thanks to a very unfortunate web malfunction, you’re now stuck—literally tethered—to him for three whole days. surely it can’t get worse… right?
warnings: kissing obviously, making out, mentions of blood and blasts, reader is lowkey mean, cursing, not proofread
note: hi so i wrote this in like 2 days because all i could think of was the upside down spider-man kiss everytime i listened to upside down kiss. so here's a kind of rushed?yeonjun version, enjoyy!
word count: 5.6k
i made the yeonjun gif out of a tiktok video by user yeonjun_fp, so credits to them for the art!
if you liked this please comment or reblog to give me your feedback! <3
you were dead on your feet.
after back to back lectures, a surprise quiz, and a final group project meeting where no one did their assigned slides, all you wanted was to go home, kick off your shoes, and disintegrate into your bed for the long weekend. you had no intentions of making any plans or attending parties, you just wanted sleep, junk food, and whatever show netflix decided to shove in your face.
you put on your headphones the moment you stepped onto the subway platform, letting the music drown out the evening rush. when the train arrived, you shuffled in, found a seat by the window, and slumped into it like a corpse, your limbs aching in that warm, heavy way that begged for rest.
you were half-dozing by the time the train screeched into the next station. but then—everything jolted violently.
the brakes screamed louder than your music. your body lurched forward. the lights overhead flickered and died. people gasped. someone screamed. and then, before you could even register what was happening, a deafening boom tore through the air. the floor shook, making the train car tilt slightly to one side. your heart jumped into your throat.
“everyone out! get out!” someone shouted.
panic swallowed the crowd like wildfire. passengers shoved, tripped, yelled over each other. in the blur of limbs and chaos, you were pushed out of your seat and jostled toward the open subway doors.
your headphones were ripped from your ears. you barely heard your own gasp as you stumbled out onto the platform, trying to get your bearings, when another explosion rocked the tunnel, stronger this time. dust and smoke poured through the gaps in the ceiling.
you saw it before you could react. a massive chunk of cement was hurtling straight toward you, fast and unstoppable. your legs refused to move. time stalled, every second stretching thin with the awful realisation that this was it. this was how it ended—for no reason, on a thursday, because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
but just before it hit, something yanked you backward, hard.
you cried out as the world blurred around you, a blur of wind and sound and pressure crushing into your chest. you were flying.
your brain screamed that it wasn’t possible, that none of this made sense, but your body was already curled tight against something solid and warm. it took a second to understand that it was a person. no—not just any person.
the red and blue suit. the stupid mask. the goddamn glowing web.
spider-man.
your stomach flipped violently as the city skyline whipped past, your legs dangling uselessly. his arm was locked around your waist, firm and annoyingly confident. a glowing thread of web tech was attached to your wrist, pulsing faintly as it connected you to his suit like a leash. below you, the chaos on the street was a distant noise. above you, the clouds were streaked orange from the setting sun. around you, the wind roared.
and you hated all of it. you had always hated spiderman. he was a self-righteous, cocky, reckless menace. always showing up to destroy half the street in the name of “saving” it. and now here you were, clutched to his chest like some helpless civilian in a comic book.
“put me down!” you screamed over the wind, squirming against his grip. “what the fuck are you doing? put me down, you freak!”
“you’re welcome,” he yelled back, voice muffled through the mask.
“i didn’t ask you to save me!”
“i noticed!” he shot back, and the smirk in his voice made your blood boil.
you struggled the entire way up—clawing at his suit, kicking your legs, swearing every curse you knew under your breath—until finally, he landed with a smooth, practised thud on the rooftop of some high-rise building. your feet hit solid ground again, but your balance didn’t catch up in time. your knees wobbled, and you stumbled forward, dizzy from the whiplash and adrenaline.
“i’m going to throw up,” you groaned, doubling over.
“do it away from the suit, thanks,” he muttered.
but before you could stagger farther, a sharp tug pulled you back—your wrist yanked mid-step until your body collided with his chest again. his arm caught you instinctively, steadying you, but you immediately shoved him away, heart still racing from the fall. that’s when you noticed it.
the thread was still glowing and your wrist was still tethered to it.
“what the hell is this?” you shrieked, holding it up.
the web stretched and shimmered faintly in the light, a sickly silverish glow like it was straight out of some alien movie. it wasn’t even sticky anymore, just fused into your, skin buzzing faintly where it made contact.
“why is this still on me?! get it off!”
“working on it!” he snapped, kneeling to inspect where it fused into his own suit. “it wasn’t supposed to... uh... attach like that.”
“attach like what?” you cried, tugging violently at it. it didn’t budge. “is this a leash? did you just fucking leash me like a dog?”
“you think i wanted this?” he shot up again, exasperated. “i was in the middle of stopping a building from collapsing when you ran into the line of fire!”
“i was just trying to take the subway!”
“and i was trying to stop a criminal from levelling the station! sue me!”
the shouting echoed across the rooftop, both of you standing there like idiots with a literal glowing string binding your bodies together. your breath came out in shaky huffs. your heart was still racing—not just from fear now, but fury, embarrassment, complete disbelief that this was actually happening.
he let out a long sigh, suddenly sheepish. “look... it’s an experimental prototype. a bio-thread. reacts to certain electrical signals. and, apparently, to heartbeats.”
you blinked. “you’re kidding.”
“wish i was.”
your eyes widened as the realisation sank in. “you mean this thing is connected to—”
“your heartbeat, yeah,” he said grimly, arms crossed now.
you stared down at your wrist, horrified. “that’s disgusting.”
“that’s science,” he corrected.
you gave the web another tug, desperate and annoyed. “so how do i get it off?”
he hesitated.
“no,” you said, already dreading it. “no, don’t tell me—”
“we wait,” he muttered. “should dissolve naturally in... seventy-two hours.”
“seventy—?” you choked. “seventy-two HOURS?!”
he raised both hands in defence. “give or take. the tech’s a little moody.”
“you’ve got to be kidding me.”
“i’m really not.”
you groaned so loudly it echoed. then you slumped down onto the edge of the rooftop, cradling your head in your hands, trying not to scream into the skyline.
this couldn’t be real. it was some fever dream. you were probably still on the subway, passed out from exhaustion, hallucinating everything. because there was no way you were actually tethered to the city’s most annoying masked menace for the next three days. you refused to believe it.
but the soft glow from your wrist said otherwise.
“take me home.”
he groaned the second you said it, but you didn’t care. you crossed your arms and tilted your chin up, staring at him stubbornly as the wind from the rooftop whipped around the both of you, the glowing thread still tethering your wrist to his suit like some ridiculous sci-fi leash.
“no way,” he snapped. “i still have to go after that guy. he bombed the train platform—he’s probably already halfway across the city.”
you gaped at him. “are you dumb? you're gonna go fight a criminal—with me attached to you?”
he made a guilty little noise and glanced at the still pulsing thread between you. “...i mean. maybe.”
“maybe?” you hissed. “the police can handle him! you’re not dragging me into some vigilante war zone.”
he hesitated, shoulders slumping, and finally, with a sigh of defeat, muttered, “fine. but where the hell are we gonna live for the next three days?”
you blinked. “we?”
“we,” he said firmly, pointing between the two of you. “we’re literally bonded now. unless you wanna cuddle on a fire escape all weekend, we need somewhere to stay.”
you narrowed your eyes. “there’s no way i’m going wherever you stay. i don’t even know you. you could live in a sewer or like… some creepy underground lair.”
he looked genuinely offended as his mask scrunched up. “i don’t live in a sewer. and it’s not a lair. it’s a… small apartment. cozy, even.”
“yeah, no,” you said flatly. “you’re coming to my place.”
his shoulders sagged even further. “ugh fine. but we’re walking. i’m not swinging again with you screaming in my ear.”
and that’s how you found yourself dragging spider-man—spider-freaking-man—down the street by your wrist like some weird, reluctant pet. you ignored the way people looked. it was late, and luckily, his suit was mostly covered by the hoodie you’d given him. though he kept trying to duck into shadows, mumbling under his breath like a sulking child. the glowing thread shimmered faintly between you, pulling taut every time one of you stepped too far away.
when you finally reached your apartment building, he stared up at it with a kind of wary awe. “damn. you got a high paying job or something?”
you snorted as you opened the door. “i’m a uni student. my parents are just rich.”
he tilted his head at you as you stepped into the elevator. “what uni?”
you told him your school name without much thought, and immediately, his whole body stiffened.
“...wait,” he blurted. “me too.”
you turned to look at him slowly. “what?”
his eyes widened behind the mask. he cursed under his breath and looked away, like he’d just admitted state secrets. “shit. i didn’t mean to say that. ignore that.”
you were about to push him further when the elevator doors opened. just then, your phone buzzed. “takeout’s here.”
he startled like you’d just hit him. “you ordered food?”
“yeah,” you said, tossing your keys onto the counter as you entered the apartment. “i was starving and figured you’d eat too, unless you’re part spider and eat bugs.”
he didn’t dignify that with a response.
you handed him a pair of clean sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt you figured would fit—he disappeared into the bathroom and returned a few minutes later, looking annoyingly good in your clothes. he was tall, broad-shouldered, sleeves pushed up his forearms as he sat across from you at your dining table.
you opened the takeout boxes and passed him one. “pad thai. extra spicy.”
he didn’t move.
“uh, you’re gonna have a hard time eating that with your mask on.”
his arms crossed defensively. “i don’t take off my mask in front of people. especially not people who hate spider-man.”
you scoffed, twirling a noodle around with your chopsticks. “i don’t hate you. i just think you're an annoying menace who causes more problems than he solves.”
“...that’s literally what hating me is,” he muttered.
you rolled your eyes. “look, i don’t care. you saved my life, remember? i won’t tell anyone. just… do it. you won’t survive three whole days eating through the mask.”
he was quiet for a second too long, but then hesitantly spoke up.
“...you won’t tell anyone?”
“swear on my meal,” you said solemnly.
he hesitated one last time, and then with a reluctant sigh, his gloved fingers reached up. you watched as he peeled the mask off in one smooth motion—and everything inside you short-circuited.
because holy. shit.
his face was devastatingly pretty. sharp cheekbones, soft pouty lips, golden skin that caught the light in all the right places. his hair was ruffled and messy, sticking out a little from the mask, and his eyes—big, brown, framed by thick lashes—blinked at you nervously.
“i… did not expect you to be that hot,” you blurted, mouth full of noodles.
he choked on air. “what—”
“no like—i was expecting some weird nerdy guy with maybe a beard.”
he blinked. “wow. thanks.”
you pointed at him with your chopsticks, narrowing your eyes. “wait. i know you.”
he froze at that.
“you’re… that guy from my discrete math lecture. choi yeonjun. you’re always sitting in the front row. you literally answer every question like a damn TA.”
his mouth parted slightly. “you’re the girl who sits in the column next to me. with the giant water bottle and all the highlighters.”
you paused. “...so you’ve noticed me.”
he blinked fast. “uh. yeah. i mean—you stand out. not in a bad way. just—pretty. you’re pretty. not that i notice or anything. well obviously i noticed because i just said it but—”
you snorted. “you’re really awkward without the suit.”
“i’m not—” he groaned, face turning pink. “okay maybe a little. it just gives me a different type of confidence you know?”
you grinned down at your food, heart ticking slightly faster. you didn’t know what was more surreal—sitting across from spider-man, or discovering spider-man was the hot math nerd who sat fifteen feet from you every tuesday and thursday. either way, it was going to be a very long seventy two hours.
you had come to terms with the fact that you were never going to get any real sleep. not when you were forced to lie right at the edge of your own bed, arm dangling pathetically over the side like some kind of human offering.
the glowing web tether was still stuck to your wrist, stretching toward the air mattress yeonjun had flopped onto with a dramatic sigh of exhaustion. you could barely move without yanking his entire body with you, so the only position you could settle in was an awkward sideways curl, with one arm constantly pulled down like gravity itself was trying to remind you of your very stupid, very spider-shaped problem.
you tried to sleep. really. but around three in the morning, right as your eyes were finally starting to blur at the edges, you felt a sudden hard tug on your wrist and then you were falling.
you yelped as your body was jerked right off the mattress, falling with a startled oof directly onto the unsuspecting man on the floor. yeonjun barely even stirred. he let out a sleepy little grunt and instinctively wrapped his stupid, warm, surprisingly toned arms around you like you were some oversized body pillow.
you struggled, wriggling against his grip like a bug under a glass, but it was useless. his arms were locked around your waist, one of his hands now tangled in your shirt, and you could feel the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing against your neck.
you hissed his name, trying to peel his fingers off you, but all you got in return was a sleepy pout and a grumbled, “five more minutes.” it would’ve been cute if it wasn’t so infuriating.
and okay, maybe it was a little warm. and his chest was kind of…comfortable. his stupid heartbeat was strong and slow under your ear, and you were so damn tired from the chaotic whirlwind of your spiderweb-tethered day that you just…gave in. your body melted into the warmth of his, cheek pressed against the soft fabric of his borrowed hoodie, and for the first time in hours, your eyes slipped shut. surprisingly, it felt safe and grounding. like being held together by something solid in the middle of all the mess.
the next morning though, was...less cute.
“you pulled me off my bed,” you deadpanned as you sat up, pushing off his chest with an elbow. your wrist still glowed faintly, the web tether warm between your skins.
yeonjun blinked up at you, hair sticking in every direction, a blanket half-kicked off the mattress.
“huh?” he said groggily, then sat up fast as memory caught up with him. “wait—shit, did i yank you down?”
you narrowed your eyes. “yes. and then you cuddled me.”
his entire face flushed red. “i did not cuddle you.”
you crossed your arms. “you were purring.”
“that’s slander.” but he looked horrified.
the next twenty four hours were a disaster.
you tripped over the tether so many times that you started to wonder if it had a personal vendetta against your toes. brushing your teeth was like a weirdly synchronised dance of tangled arms and accidental elbow jabs. showering was even worse.
he stood frozen outside the bathroom door, your glowing lifeline stretched taut through the crack, his voice drifting through like a very flustered ghost. “i’m not peeking, okay?!”
“you better not be!” you snapped as you held up a towel like a makeshift curtain while trying to lather shampoo one-handed. “don’t test me, spiderboy, i will kill you.”
“this is humiliating for me too!” he yelled back. “i’m an icon of justice!”
“you’re an icon of annoying!”
you fought like bickering siblings who had never met before yesterday and yet were somehow stuck together for life. every time you tried to do anything, you’d hear him mutter something under his breath like, “why couldn’t i have been bonded to someone normal?” and you’d throw a couch pillow at him.
it was exactly at the point of your worst argument—over whether or not he could eat directly out of the peanut butter jar—that his watch beeped. he glanced down, cursed under his breath, and without any warning, leapt off the couch.
“wait—what the fuck—!” you screamed as your body was yanked clean off the floor.
“shit, sorry!” yeonjun called back mid-air, swinging out the open balcony door like it was a tuesday stroll. “emergency call!”
“emergency call your ass, PUT ME DOWN!”
“can’t! you’re tethered! my bad!”
you flailed helplessly as you were flung through the air, wind screaming in your ears, the skyline of the city blurring past. each time he swung, your body would arc toward him, face practically slamming against his as you bumped into him with every motion. your nose brushed his chin, your cheek scraped his jaw, and one time—one time—your lips accidentally brushed the side of his mask.
you shrieked. “stop swinging like a lunatic and hold me!”
“oh? now you care about being close to me?” he teased, voice gleeful, mask slightly lopsided.
you scowled. “if i throw up, it’s going straight into your face.”
he just laughed, and then like a showoff on steroids he flipped mid-air, feet planting against the side of a glass building, body upside down. the web between you tightened instantly, pulling you forward until your face hovered just inches from his. he didn’t move. neither did you. the air thinned between you, your breath catching as your eyes flicked to his masked face.
your lips were right there.
he grinned.
then dropped you very unceremoniously onto a nearby rooftop with a thud.
“careful, pretty,” he drawled, voice smug. “you almost kissed me.”
you gaped at him. “what the hell?”
“what?” he said innocently, crouching on the edge of the roof like the cockiest bastard alive. “don’t blame me. you’re the one who’s all over me lately.”
“you pulled me into the sky like a rag doll!”
he tilted his head. “and yet, you’re still clinging to me. hmm.”
you chucked a loose brick at him, but he dodged it and just laughed again, sunlight catching his suit as he rose higher on the building’s edge. the way he stood, so confident and self-assured, was almost unrecognisable from the shy, stammering boy who slept in your apartment and accidentally blurted compliments with red cheeks and soft eyes.
because here, like this, in the suit, yeonjun wasn’t flustered. he wasn’t awkward. he was bold and flirtatious and impossible to pin down. and it was beginning to drive you crazy.
“god,” you muttered under your breath, trying to smooth your wind-tangled hair. “your split personality is insane.”
“you like it,” he said with a wink and leapt off the rooftop again, dragging you behind him with a scream echoing into the morning air.
he was heavy in your arms—well, technically you were mostly dragging him, but still, he made a pretty pathetic sight with one arm slung over your shoulder and his mask balled up in your fist.
yeonjun winced with every step as you practically hauled him down the hallway to your bathroom, grumbling under your breath about superhero idiocy and your web-chained fate. his face was pale but smug, which made it hard to feel too bad for him, even with the deep gash on his side bleeding through the slick fabric of his suit.
“could’ve just let me bleed out on the roof,” he joked weakly, slumping down onto the toilet seat. you shot him a look and flicked the bathroom light on.
“how could i? we’re attached to each other because of your stupid web.”
he groaned dramatically as you rifled through the cabinet for your tiny first aid kit. “god, i forget how mean you can get.”
“you’ve known me for two days.”
“and i’ve never known peace since,” he mumbled, hissing when you unzipped the top of his suit. it peeled down like a second skin, sticking slightly to the dried blood at his side, and then it was suddenly just there—his torso, sculpted and gleaming faintly with sweat, all defined lines and soft curves where his skin dipped between muscle. he was flushed down to his chest, breaths short and laboured, and you hated yourself for noticing. your eyes stuttered somewhere between his collarbone and the trail of blood slashed across his ribs. he was stupidly attractive, in that way people weren’t supposed to be when they were bruised and bleeding and shirtless in your bathroom.
you blinked hard to cover it up. “you’re disgusting.”
he grinned. “you’re staring.”
“i’m assessing the wound,” you snapped, even though your voice cracked embarrassingly halfway through.
you knelt beside him, pulling out antiseptic and gauze, trying very hard not to notice the way his thigh brushed your knee. he was warm and so very there, and the web tether between you pulsed quietly, glowing with soft light that gradually brightened as your hands made contact with his skin.
you swore under your breath as the tether suddenly shortened, dragging you even closer until you were practically perched on his leg, trying to clean the gash with shaking fingers.
“stop moving,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.
“you’re literally sitting on me.”
“and you’re literally whining like a baby,” you shot back.
“sorry, i didn’t realise getting stabbed meant i had to also deal with you sitting on me and insulting me,” he grumbled, but there was no bite to it. his voice had dipped lower and softer, with a strange edge of tension beneath the banter, which curled around your lungs and squeezed.
you froze when he tilted his head to look at you, eyes dark and voice barely above a murmur.
“you gonna kiss me or just keep staring?”
you froze at that, heartbeat thudding louder making the web glow brighter. you stared at him, caught between the heat of his skin under your hands and the dare in his voice.
but then your hand shot up and smacked his chest, hard enough to jolt him, and you scrambled off his lap, trying to hide your flaming face behind pure rage.
“get dressed, freak!”
he laughed as you stormed out of the bathroom, muttering something about how you were the weirdest civilian he’d ever met. you didn’t respond with youe usual snarky response as you were too busy pressing your hands to your face and praying the floor would open up and swallow you whole.
later, the both of you ended up back in your bed this time, lying stiffly on either end like two strangers forced to share a lifeboat. the air mattress plan was abandoned mutually, after both of you admitted it had been a disaster the night before. this was... better. except for the thing between you. the glowing thread, taut and warm, stretched like some cursed lifeline from your wrist to his. you turned to your side, glaring at the ceiling.
“this is insane,” you muttered.
“you think?” he sighed. “i was testing a prototype, not... roping myself to a civilian.”
you glanced over at him. his face was turned toward the ceiling too, dark in the low light, jaw sharp and brows furrowed in thought. then he spoke again, voice quiet and strange.
“it’s supposed to sync with biological emotion markers. that’s what the tech does. it connects based on stimulus—heartbeat, adrenaline, whatever.”
he then paused as both of you looked down at the web connecting your wrists. it was glowing again.
brighter.
“is it—” you swallowed, suddenly aware of how fast your heart was beating. “—is it reacting to me… or to you?”
his eyes flicked toward you. something unreadable settled into his expression as he shifted, leaning slightly closer. the tether pulsed, light blooming a little brighter between your wrists. you felt your skin heat where it touched the sheets, the air between your bodies shimmering with something you didn’t want to name.
his hand moved, slow and hesitant, fingers brushing your cheek like he was afraid of scaring you off. it was the first time he touched you that gently. like he wanted to. like this was something he wasn’t allowed to want.
your breath hitched.
but then he blinked, the moment cracking in half as he leaned away quickly and gave a sheepish laugh.
“sorry, i’m being so weird,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “goodnight.”
you stared at him as he rolled to his side, facing away, shoulders tense.
your hand drifted to the tether between you which was glowing faintly now. like it, too, was pretending none of that happened.
the next morning, you woke with a heavy feeling in your chest, the warmth of yeonjun's body pressed against your back where he'd somehow started spooning you during the night.
the cursed bio-web glowed faintly between your wrists, its light weaker now but still stubbornly connecting you to the sleeping superhero whose arm was currently crushing your diaphragm. you tried to shift away, but the movement yanked yeonjun's wrist sharply toward you, jolting him awake with a grunt.
"mmph—w'shappening?" he slurred, blinking sleepily as his free hand came up to rub his eyes. then he froze, suddenly very aware of how his body was molded against yours, his nose buried in your hair.
"oh. uh. morning."
"morning," you muttered, refusing to acknowledge how nice his sleep-rough voice sounded this close to your ear. the web pulsed between you, responding to your elevated heartbeat like the traitor it was.
yeonjun cleared his throat and attempted to roll away, only for the tether to snap taut, dragging you both into an awkward mid-air collision of limbs.
"right. forgot about that," he mumbled, his cheeks pink as he untangled himself. "three days can't end fast enough."
the words shouldn't have stung, but they did.
the day passed in strange pockets of silence and unexpected intimacy. making breakfast was, again a clumsy dance of coordinated movements—you cracking eggs onehanded while he reached across you for the spatula, his chest brushing your back in a way that made the web flare brighter.
by afternoon, you'd developed an unspoken rhythm. studying on the couch meant yeonjun's legs thrown over your lap, his toes occasionally flexing against your thigh. you told him about your classes, the professors you loved and hated, the little things that made you feel like home. he told you about his family, his friends’ relentless teasing, and how sometimes being spider-man meant missing out on the simplest moments. you laughed more than you expected, but the heavy feeling in your heart didn’t go away.
as sunset painted your balcony in gold, you stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the web's glow grow fainter.
"think it'll hurt when it breaks?" you asked, trying to sound casual.
yeonjun flexed his wrist. "dunno. never stuck myself to a pretty girl before."
"shut up," you said without heat, your traitorous pulse making the thread brighten.
right as you said that, without any ceremony it suddenly dissolved. one moment the connection was there, thrumming with energy. the next, there was nothing. your wrist felt strangely light, the skin unmarked as if the tether had never existed. the sudden freedom was more disorienting than the fall from the subway platform three days ago.
yeonjun cleared his throat, rocking back on his heels. "so. uh. guess i should..." he gestured vaguely toward the skyline.
"yeah," you agreed too quickly. "crime to fight. people to save. all that."
an awkward beat passed before he suddenly pulled you into a stiff hug, his hands patting your back like he was unsure of what he was doing. "see you in class," he mumbled into your hair before releasing you like you'd burned him.
you nodded, a little breathless. “yeah.”
you watched quietly as he slipped the mask back up, eyes meeting yours one last time before he waved goodbye and launched himself into the air with a graceful swing. the sight left a hollow ache in your chest, the cool evening breeze whispering around you as you leaned on the balcony railing and closed your eyes.
just as you were wondering how the hell you were going to say hi to him on campus, a shadow suddenly blocked the fading sunlight in front of you. you opened your eyes and smiled. there he was—spider-man, hanging upside down right before you. the mask’s white eyes blinked slowly, hesitating.
"miss me?"
you let out a startled yelp which turned into a punch that sent him swinging backward with a laugh.
"you absolute asshole!" you hissed, heart hammering. "what the hell are you—"
"forgot something," he interrupted, catching himself on the railing. his voice was oddly nervous as the white lenses of his mask stared at you. "the web's gone but... my chest still feels kinda tight? like there's still a tether there. that's... not normal, right?"
you blinked. "your... chest?"
"yeah." his gloved hand came up to rub at the black spider emblem. "right here. it's weird. hurts a little. think i need you to check—"
"you're such a terrible liar," you breathed, but your hands were already reaching for his mask. this time, you pulled it all the way off.
yeonjun's face was flushed, his lips slightly parted as he stared at you with an expression so open it made your knees weak. there was no smugness behind it, just nervous hope.
"so?" he whispered. "you gonna check or what?"
your fingers curled around his jaw. "shut up and kiss me, spider-boy."
he didn't need to be told twice.
the first kiss was messy—yeonjun still upside down, your hands fumbling with his hair as he gripped your waist to keep you both from toppling over. your upper lip brushed against his lower one first, that plush swell of his mouth impossibly soft against yours, and then he was kissing you back properly, his lips moving with a desperate hunger that made your head spin. the contrast was intoxicating—the way your upper lip caught slightly on the perfect curve of his lower one before he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that had you clutching at his shoulders for balance. when you bit his lower lip, he actually whimpered, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave bruises.
"fuck," he panted when you broke apart, his pupils blown wide. his lower lip glistened where you'd nipped it, that perfect pout even more swollen now. "was that—are we—"
"if you don't kiss me again in the next three seconds, i'm pushing you off this balcony."
he grinned, wild and bright, before surging forward. this time, he flipped mid-kiss, his body twisting until he was pressing you back against the railing, his thigh slotting between yours. your upper lip caught on his again in that delicious way, the sensitive skin tingling where it dragged against the fuller curve of his lower lip before his tongue swept into your mouth.
the heat of him was everywhere, his hands roaming your back with none of the hesitation he'd had while tethered. when you moaned into his mouth, he swallowed the sound greedily, his lower lip catching on yours as he pulled back just enough to tease before diving in again.
"still think i'm a nuisance?" he murmured against your lips, his teeth scraping your jaw, his lips brushing yours with each word.
"shut up," you gasped, arching into him. your lips dragged against his as you spoke, the fleeting contact making him shudder. "just because i want to make out with you doesn't mean i approve of your reckless vigilantism."
yeonjun laughed, the vibration travelling straight through your chest as he lifted you effortlessly onto the railing. your legs locked around his waist on instinct, his hands gripping your thighs as he kissed you again, deeper this time. his lower lip slotted perfectly between yours, that plush softness yielding to your teeth when you bit down gently, and the groan it tore from him was better than any sound you'd heard in your life.
"good thing i don't need your approval," he teased between kisses, each brush of his lips against yours more deliberate now, his upper lip catching on yours in ways that made your toes curl. "just your mouth. and your hands. and maybe—"
you cut him off with another kiss, your fingers tightening in his hair. the city stretched out below you, endless and bright, but all you could focus on was the way yeonjun shuddered when you tugged him closer, the way his heart pounded against yours —no web needed this time to prove you were connected.
in which texting the wrong number lands you an internet crush and denial.
pairings: idol!yeonjun x gn!reader
genre: one part smau, fluff, humor, s2l
warnings: language, pet names, y/n is in denial and yeonjun is just a lover boy simp i fear
rea’s 💌 — the way this has been in my drafts since november?? guys please yell at me to be more consistent with posting bc i like making these silly little stories 💔 um happy new year and valentine’s day lol hope y’all enjoy this one! reminder that you can always send an ask to be a part of my taglist ⋆˙⟡♡
not to be an unclassy freak but boy am i craving big dick yeonjun
Anon I don’t blame you yeonjun is definitely packing some serious heat..🫣 LETS TALK ABOUT ITTT
BIG DICK YEONJUN HEADCANONS
⚠︎: this post contains explicit sexual content read at your own risk!!
- let’s just say he's not shy about it but he doesn't brag either!! he just knows he's packing and he enjoyed your reaction when you found out. he loved seeing the look of shock and awe on your face when you realized how big he is.
- he likes to tease you by making you beg for it, knowing that you can't handle all of him at once. He'll make you work for it tho :(( teasing you with just the tip before finally giving you what you want.
- he takes pride in being able to satisfy you in ways others can't but he's also very attentive to your needs and boundaries. he loves to push you over the edge and make you cum harder than you ever came before.
- sometimes he worries that his size might be intimidating or uncomfortable for you so he always makes sure to communicate and go slow if you need it. but once you’re comfortable, he’ll let loose and fuck you hard.
- he loves the feeling of being deep inside you, especially when you’re moaning his name and begging for more. he'll pound into you relentlessly until you’re screaming his name and begging him to cum inside you.
- yeonjun enjoys experimenting with different positions and techniques to see how deep his dick can go in you.
- he gets a thrill out of public sex or risky situations where there's a chance of getting caught. the thought of someone seeing him fucking you with his huge cock turns him on like nothing else you have no idea lorddd.
- yeonjun also has a high sex drive and can go multiple rounds in one night without getting tired. he's always ready for more action, no matter how many times he's already cum.
- yeonjun is definitely the type to send teasing pics or videos to of himself to you showing off his size and making you crave him even more. he'll send a pic of his massive cock bulging in his pants or a video of him stroking it until he's about to cum but he’ll never give you the full video :(
- he really enjoys receiving oral and loves the feeling of you struggling to take all of him in your mouth. he’ll grab the back of your head and force you down on his cock making you gag and choke as he fucks deep in your throat.
- and yeonjun is not afraid to get a little rough in bed but he always makes sure you’re enjoying it too. he'll spank you, choke you, and pull your hair as he pounds into your hole with his huge length.. (🤤)
- he also has a bit of a kink for being worshipped and loves when you tell him how big and impressive he is. he'll make you get on your knees and worship his cock like it's a god.
- he loves the slurping sounds of your mouth while you go down on him. he also loves when you suck his tip and massage his balls. gosh the combo makes his knees buckle..
title: backstage reunion
pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader
genre: smut (mdni!!), exes, cheating, idolverse
word count: 5.9k
summary: your boyfriend takes you to a txt concert & meet and greet. it's a shame he doesn't know about your connection to one of the members.
author's note: if i had a nickel for every time i've written reader cheating on their bf with choi yeonjun i would have two nickels, which isn't that many but it's weird that it's happened twice. ao3 link here!
tags/warnings: cheating, ex-bf yeonjun, dom yeonjun, brat reader, sub reader, minor degradation (slut), frustrated sex, hate sex but not really, quick sex, fingering, vaginal sex, clothes-on sex, porn with a little bit of plot, unprotected sex
.⋆ 𖥔 ݁ ˖₊‧. masterlist .‧₊˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ .
You should be thankful. Instead, as you look at your boyfriend's phone, you only feel a very specific kind of dread. An, oh fuck, my secret keeping is coming back to bite me in the ass, kind of dread.
“They’re still your favorite group, right?” Jiung asks, that nervous smile on his lips—thinking your under reaction equates to disappointment.
He would never jump to the right conclusion, because you’ve given zero indication in the last several months that you’re an untrustworthy girlfriend. In fact, you’ve been a perfect girlfriend.
Except for this one lie.
Perhaps not even a real lie, but a withholding of information. A secret you’ve always kept from boyfriends and even some friends.
Keeping it a secret makes it special. A memory that’s only yours. Yours and his—one that can’t be tarnished by anything. Not new boyfriends or judgmental friends.
You keep those memories in a jar, not because you want to relive them, but because sometimes you like to look back, to take a peek inside, to remember what things were like before they ceased to exist.
And of course, you never expected it to come up like this. You never expected to be standing in line for a meet and greet, post-concert, clasping your hands together in front of your chest, trying not to think about what it will feel like to look at him again, to make eye contact with him.
He’ll remember you. There’s no doubt in your mind. What you had was real and special, and honestly, not all that long ago. There hadn’t been any huge fallout, any fights, or negativity. You’d just grown apart. And at some point, the distance got so large that it felt impossible to cross. And that was before his rapid ascent into popularity.
“Maybe we should just go,” you say when there are only a few people ahead of you in line. It’s easier to bail, to pretend none of this happened at all.
It’s Jiung who encourages you forward. “We’re almost there. It’s okay. I don’t mind the wait.”
You wish the stress developing like a tight ball at the base of your stomach had anything to do with the amount of time you’ve been waiting. No, it’s the idea of him. Of Yeonjun looking you in the eyes.
So, you want to turn and run. But you don’t. Not when Jiung has a hand on your lower back, and you can see Yeonjun just ahead, chatting with other fans.
You are a fan. You’ve been following their comebacks, listening to their music at home. Concerts were always a step too far out of your comfort zone, over the line you drew in the sand to protect your heart.
But now you’re there. So far past the line you can hardly even see it anymore. Then, you’re standing in front of him, watching his big brown eyes roam over your body, taking note of the man standing next to you, touching you.
And you have to wonder what he’s thinking—because you certainly can’t ask.
There’s nothing immediately evident in the way that he looks at you. He recognizes you. You know he does. And when Jiung turns away for a brief moment, there’s a ghost of a smile on Yeonjun’s lips like he wants to be caught.
Because he can’t stop looking at you. At the way the corners of your lips turn up in a smile, at the inch of skin he can see over the table, but below your skirt, at the way your shirt cuts downward. He looks at you, and he thinks things he should not be thinking in public, in front of all those fans—but neither can he stop thinking them.
“Really nice to meet you,” Yeonjun says, pressed smile across his lips. Fake. “This your boyfriend?”
You clear your throat, trying to free all the emotion jammed to a stop in the center. Because he did not just ask you that. It could be played off. You’ve seen the videos of him with fans. You’ve seen his jealous nature in those conversations. But so, too, do you know what he looks like when he’s really jealous. That glint of subtle anger behind his eyes.
And you want to say something, because who does he think he is, being jealous of you, in this moment? You hold your tongue.
Jiung smiles. None the wiser.
“Yes,” you say.
Yeonjun makes a face, lips twisted up in a half scowl that he tries to play off as unserious.
“You want a picture?” he asks, because he doesn’t know what else to say, and neither do you. You can’t imagine filling the silence with questions about his career, about the group—you don’t care about any of that shit. Not really.
And you didn’t account for any of this, really. And maybe if you had, you would have cancelled on Jiung, feigned sick or something, because holy shit, he looks so handsome. Blonde hair pushed back with gel, a tight red tank top, shoulders exposed.
Had he been this attractive when you were together?
Jiung elbows you gently in the side when you don’t immediately respond to the question. “Oh,” you say. “That would be nice.”
Yeonjun reaches over and takes your phone out of his grasp. He rolls his eyes at your lock screen photo. Jiung with his arms around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.
He turns in his chair to take the photo with the two of you, then places your phone flat on the table, face down.
He makes small talk. Asks you a little bit about yourself. Things he already knows. He’s teasing you, you know it. Making you say all this stuff. He presses a little too hard, hoping Jiung will ask you about it on the ride home. Comment on how strange it was in the moment. He wants it to stick with you, make you uncomfortable now, and make you talk about it later.
Of course, you don’t know the fine details—just that he’s getting under your skin. Just that you’ll be thinking about him later, too. That annoys you more than anything else.
He folds his arms over his chest, leaning forward. His elbow obscures your phone from view.
“Nice to meet you again,” Yeonjun says as you step away from the table. “Thanks for coming.”
He waits until you’re gone to slip your phone into his lap, then into his pocket.
“So,” Jiung says, as he starts the car and readies to pull out of the parking lot. “Was that everything you hoped it would be?”
The rest of your conversations with the other members went smoothly. More fan service than strange, ex-boyfriend mind games.
“Mhm,” you say, looking out the passenger side window. You reach into your purse, looking for your phone. You check the pockets of your jacket. “Hold on,” you say, checking under your butt and anywhere else that a phone could possibly be located. “You don’t have my phone, do you?” you ask.
Jiung shakes his head. “Maybe you left it inside. Do you want me to go get it?”
“No,” you say, maybe too quickly. “It’s fine.” You unbuckle your seatbelt. “I’ll be right back.”
The walk back into the concert hall is a little more stressful than the first, and it has no reason to be. You’ve already seen him. Besides, some staff member probably has your phone. You just need to find them.
There are still lines curving throughout the place, fans waiting to be acknowledged, even momentarily, by their biases.
You approach a staff member in all black, scanning tickets near the front.
“Hey, I think I left my phone on the table,” you say.
She looks at you with a raised brow, like it’s the worst excuse she’s ever heard. But she tells you to wait while she calls over another employee, who then approaches the table. You watch them lean down to whisper something in Yeonjun’s ear. His eyes drift past the fan he’s talking to to find yours, and a chill runs through your system.
God, how the fuck did either of you let things end so abruptly? You were there, and then you weren’t. And all of a sudden—being together again felt like an impossibility. So you never called. And neither did he.
The staff member finds you again and gestures for you to step to the side. She doesn’t say much, but leads you further away from the crowd, then down a hallway. “Just wait here for one moment,” she says, extending an arm toward a couch in a small dressing room.
You take a seat, then turn to say something, but she’s already gone.
There’s no clock, just a rack of clothes and a large mirror lined with lights. It occurs to you in some far-off part of your brain that this must be Yeonjun’s dressing room. There’s an unzipped makeup bag on the table in front of the mirror, and a backpack—much more casual than the rest—slouched against the table.
The door opens while you’re studying the place, and then he’s there. Standing with his arms crossed in front of the door, looking down at you.
You stand up, crossing the minimal space until you’re in front of him.
It’s so much different, this moment, than the one not fifteen minutes ago. There’s no long table separating you, no fans watching your every move. No Jiung. With all that stripped away, his eye contact makes your skin hotter, makes the blood boil beneath it.
There’s nothing to be angry about. Not really. You still find the way to some brand of spite.
Yeonjun pulls your phone out of his back pocket and holds it up between two fingers. “Looking for this?” he asks.
“You know that I am,” you say.
He tilts his head to the side, studying you. “Bummer,” he says. “I thought you came back to see me.”
“Why would I do that?” you ask, keeping your voice even. Free of any kind of feeling, even as your heart skips and stutters under his eye contact.
You reach for your phone, and he pulls it back, just out of reach. “Maybe because you missed me,” he suggests.
“I didn’t.”
“Then what are you doing here?” he asks.
“Jiung—my boyfriend. He got me the tickets,” you say. “He knows I’m a fan, so.”
Yeonjun raises a brow. God, there’s so much fucking history between the two of you. You can feel it pressing in from every angle, oppressive and loud, vibrating your eardrums and making it difficult to focus. You can’t look at him and just see an idol. You look at him and see someone who was yours for so long, before they weren’t.
Yeonjun nods. There’s no change to the way he looks at you, or the way he holds himself. He nods like it's the most uninteresting conversation in the world.
“If you want to say something, just say it,” you tell him.
He shrugs, lips turning downward at the corners as he does so.
“Can I have my phone back?” you ask.
“Not yet,” he says. Then, “Must not be a very good boyfriend, if he doesn’t know about me.” He takes half a step closer to you.
You will yourself to take a step back, to even the distance back out, but your body doesn’t listen to your brain.
“He’s a good boyfriend,” you say.
“Then you must not be a very good girlfriend,” Yeonjun says, with a light shrug. It’s not serious to him. None of this is.
Your brows furrow. Your nose scrunches at the bridge. “I’m—I’m a good girlfriend.”
He holds your phone up, and you don’t realize what he’s doing until it’s already done. With your phone unlocked, he pulls up the phone app. “I could call him, tell him our little secret.”
You reach for the phone, wrapping your hand around his in an attempt to tug it away. You freeze there, hand on top of his, chests a few inches apart.
“Why haven’t you told him about me?” Yeonjun asks, leaning down, meeting your eyes. His voice is low, and the hushed tone makes goosebumps rise on your forearms. And you don’t even know the answer to his question. You don’t know why you never told Jiung about Yeonjun. Why you never told any of the guys you dated before Jiung about him, either. Maybe you just like having the secret.
He presses your phone into your hand, closing your fingers around it.
“I don’t know,” you say, and the words come out nearly silent.
A smile crosses his lips for the first time since that small dressing room. He reaches out and places a hand on your bare upper arm.
“Does he make you happy?” he asks.
“Yes,” you say.
“Happier than I made you?” he asks.
You don’t answer immediately, and his smile grows.
“What are you doing right now?” you ask him, because you can’t seem to wrap your mind around whatever game it is he’s playing.
“I didn’t expect to see you today, that’s all,” Yeonjun says.
“Why would you?” you say.
“You’re right,” he says. “I didn’t even know you were a fan.”
You roll your eyes because you’re really not going to have this conversation with him right now. “Yeonjun,” you say, firmly.
He bats his eyes, lets the smile creep over the rest of his features. “Yes?”
It’s hard to say the words, but you say them anyway. “I should go.” Maybe if you had all the time in the world, you would stay. You would stay, and you would talk. Maybe you would even try to figure out what went wrong last time. But you can’t. Jiung’s waiting in the car, and you’ve already taken longer than necessary.
He doesn’t budge from his spot in front of the door. You stare at him for a beat longer, and he finally does move, sidestepping you.
You open the door, and his hand shoots out, landing on your wrist. You freeze again. His hand is warm on your skin, and it brings with it memories you’ve tried to forget.
Yeonjun doesn’t speak. You turn slowly to look at him, eyes cast downward at his grip. They drag slowly upward to meet his eyes.
“Wait,” he says, and the word comes out more desperate than anything else he’s said. That bravado all stripped away, now.
The tension breaks when he steps in one more time, when he drops your hand to push the door closed behind you.
He’s too close. Too warm. Too suffocating. And somehow still too far away.
You move in slow motion, between moments where you’re both frozen looking at one another and moments where time slams back into full speed, ticking by in your ears, but you still don’t move—contemplating the next step, and the next. And your heart is racing out of your chest, and he’s looking at you like it’s years in the past, and you can’t seem to remember anything except how his lips used to feel against yours.
He can’t take it, either. The intoxication of you. If you just hadn’t been there. If you hadn’t been there today, if he hadn’t seen you. He would be able to keep pretending you didn’t mean something. But you’re here, standing in front of him, and he can’t just let you leave again.
“I’m sorry,” he says, right before he closes the distance. “I just—I have to—” and then his hands are cupping your cheeks and his lips are on yours.
You hardly register the apology, let alone feel bad for what’s happening. The electricity in the air doesn’t fizzle at the contact. It surrounds you. Hot and blinding. You don’t stop him. Stopping him is the last thing on your mind.
Your lips move slowly, tasting each other and remembering. It hardly even occurs to you that you should not be doing this. Not when it feels so good, so right. Not when he’s holding you like he never should have let go in the first place.
You don’t break apart to speak, only to catch your breath, to change angles. He deepens the kiss as his hands fall from your face, tracing down the sides of your body before they land on your hips. He sucks on your lower lip, and you gasp into his mouth.
It takes a long time—longer than you would be proud to admit—for you to realize exactly what you’re doing.
You reach up to push against his chest. “Yeonjun,” you mumble against his lips. “Yeonjun,” you say again. “We can’t—I shouldn’t.”
His fingers dig into the fabric covering your hips. His eyes bore into yours, then drop back to your lips. He runs a tongue across his, and you lose track of what you’re saying, of why you’re saying it. “Why not?” he asks.
“I—” you start, trying to remember why this is such a bad idea. “He’s—”
You can’t bring yourself to care. That’s the problem. Yeonjun is here. He’s here, in front of you, breathing heavily, sweaty from the concert, looking at you like you’re everything in the entire world. And he’s here. How many times have you wished for this?
One hand hooks around the back of his neck, and you pull him back down for another searing kiss. He steps forward into you, pressing you against the door.
“God,” Yeonjun mumbles into your lips. “Missed you.”
The words and his fervent kisses awaken something deep inside of you. Heat flares at your core, and you think, absent-mindedly, that you’re so fucked.
“Yeah? Did you?” you ask, just barely breaking apart. Despite your anger, still ever present, neither can you stop kissing him.
The back of his hand drags slowly across an exposed patch of skin just above your skirt. His eyes are focused there, but they snap upward at your question. “What?” he says, before kissing you again, before snaking that same hand around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. “Of course I did.”
Your hands ball into the fabric of his shirt. His tongue slips between your lips, and you angle your head backward to give him better access. When you break apart again, to breathe, you’re still thinking about the anger beneath it all—and whether or not you have a right to it. “You could have called,” you say. “I would have answered.”
“Is that your way of saying you missed me, too?” he asks. “I’m here now.”
He curls a finger under your chin and lifts it, soft brown eyes finding yours.
“I have a boyfriend now,” you say. But you don’t untangle your hands from his shirt, don’t take a step backward away from him, don’t even think about leaving. But it’s a thing you have to say. Even if you don’t know why, when it would be so much easier to ignore it.
“Yeah, and you seem really eager to get back to him,” he says.
“I am,” you say, pulling him down by the shirt. Then, “Take this off.”
He drops his hands to the hem of his shirt and pulls it off over his head. Your hands shoot out to touch his bare skin immediately. Your fingers run over his chest, down the hard plane of his stomach. He pushes your jacket off your shoulders, and you let it fall to the ground.
Yeonjun laces one hand through your hair and kisses you again. Harsher this time. More desperate. His other hand sits on your hip, keeps pulling you closer and closer.
He presses against you, shifting one leg between yours and pinning you to the door. He slips a hand under your shirt, eager to touch any skin there. You gasp into his mouth at the mere contact.
“Fuck,” he says against your lips. “I don’t want to rush this.”
“He’s waiting for me, Jun,” you say.
Yeonjun rolls his eyes. There’s so much he wants to say. So many comments he could make. He kisses you again, instead. He drops his hand between your legs, instead, reaching under your skirt.
He wastes no time—that’s what you wanted, right? His fingers brush your core, and he hums into the kiss. You can feel the smirk on his lips.
“Shut up,” you say.
“You want me so bad, don’t you?” he whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. “Can’t figure out how to just ask for it?” he says. He pushes your panties to the side and nudges a finger inside of you, watching for a reaction.
Your lips part, and you let your head fall back against the door behind you.
“Trying to make me feel bad for wanting you when you have a boyfriend—but god, you want me just as fucking bad, don’t you?” he asks. You don’t respond fast enough, so he presses harder. “Don’t you?”
He slides another finger inside of you and pumps them slowly. “Yes,” you say.
“Yes, what?” Yeonjun asks, raising a brow at you, cocking his head to the side just so. He’s enjoying this. Playing with you even when you have such minimal time together.
“Shut the fuck up, Yeonjun,” you say as you roll your hips forward. “I don’t have time—”
“I know,” he says. “Your boyfriend.” He moves his fingers faster, savoring the feeling of you clenching around them, of you grinding to meet each thrust.
He pulls his fingers out and places them in his mouth while his other hand works to undo his belt, to push down his pants and boxers. He doesn’t bother kicking them all the way off. He licks his fingers clean, then takes your hand, tugging you toward the vanity.
He leans forward and presses another kiss to your lips, then along your jawline, to the space beneath your ear. “Turn around,” he whispers.
You listen.
He pulls you backward against him, and you can feel the line of his hard cock on your ass through your skirt. You grind backward into him and swear you can hear him grin. You place your hands on the table in front of you as he pushes your skirt further up your thighs.
You look forward, catching your own reflection in the mirror. Lipstick smudged, hair messy, and Yeonjun behind you, watching with appreciation as he runs a hand over your ass.
He spreads your legs with the back of one hand and uses the other to guide his dick to your entrance. He swipes the tip through your slick, taking his time.
“Yeonjun,” you whine, trying to catch his eyes in the mirror. It’s not about time anymore. Not about being in a rush. You need him.
“Swear to god if you mention him one more time,” he says as he slides his tip down your slit again, pausing at your entrance for a split second before moving past it.
“No,” you say. “Just—need you.”
He places a hand between your shoulder blades and lets it slowly trail downward. “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll make you forget his name.”
“Yeonjun,” you say again, whimpering.
“That’s it,” he says, reveling in the sound of his name on your lips. He presses forward into you, slowly, and your knuckles go white on the edge of the table.
You know you shouldn’t be doing this. But as he sinks into you an inch at a time, you can’t think about anything else. Not even the person waiting for you hundreds of feet away. And it doesn’t even feel like cheating, not really. It’s like returning back to the time you shared together before and enjoying it one more time.
“Fuck,” Yeonjun whispers as he bottoms out. His fingers press into your hips, holding you steady as he shifts slowly back. He snaps forward, burying himself deeper inside of you. Your legs shake, and moans fall off parted lips.
He does it again. The slow withdraw before a quick thrust. “Feels so fucking good,” he murmurs, voice dripping with want like having you again is making him a little crazy. He reaches forward to wrap a hand around the front of your neck, pulling you backward, making you look up.
Your eyes reach his through the mirror.
“Look at you,” he says, tilting his head to the side. He’s still rolling his hips forward hard and fast, and you can hardly keep your eyes open to watch him. “Maybe if I knew you were still such a slut, I’d have called you.”
Your fingers tighten on the desk in anger and pleasure, but you can’t seem to form words to talk back, not with the way he’s moving.
“Boyfriend waiting for you outside, but you’re letting me fuck you senseless instead.” He lifts one of your hands and pulls it behind your back. “Haven’t changed at all.”
You flip him off with the hand he’s holding back, and he laughs, lifting his eyes to meet yours in the mirror. He releases your neck to grab your other hand, too, collecting them in one hand and pulling you backward. Your back arches as he thrusts deeper, harder.
“Yeonjun—oh my god.”
He smiles again. “Can’t even hate me properly, can you?”
“Yes,” you mutter between broken gasps and moans that slip past your attempts to hold them back. “I can,” you say. “I do.” But you don’t mean it. What reason do you have, anyway, besides time? Besides the fact that he’s making you feel like this when you have someone waiting.
He tugs your arms sharply back, uses his other hand to force you upward, so your back is nearly touching his chest. He drops your arms and lowers his lips to your ear, slowing his pace while he speaks. “Go, then,” he says.
Yeonjun takes a step back, pulling out of you. He stops touching you. You turn around to look at him. Your eyes roll in annoyance, but you take the step forward anyway, reaching for him. He laces his fingers through yours and pulls you against him.
“That’s what I thought,” he says, before pressing a kiss into your hair. He kicks his pants the rest of the way off and leads you a few steps over, toward the couch. The backs of your knees hit the cushion, and you’re forced to sit. He kneels down in front of you. He places a hand on your cheek and leans forward to capture your lips. A brief moment of softness before both his hands are on top of your thighs, and he’s pulling you down. Your elbows hit the couch cushions as he pulls your ass completely off it.
He holds the backs of your thighs together with one hand as he uses the other to guide his length to your entrance. He pushes forward into you, and you gasp, biting down on your lower lip to keep from moaning.
Yeonjun holds your legs up by the back of your thighs, just under your knees, as he rolls his hips forward into you. Your lip stays firmly between your teeth, even as your head falls back.
“Come on,” Yeonjun says, his own voice devolving into a gravely, rough mess the longer this continues. “Let me hear you.”
His hips snap forward, deep and hard, trying to elicit something from you. Your eyes roll back and your back arches greedily, but you don’t let out anything more than a sharp gasp. He shifts forward, moving your legs to one side, barring them against him with one arm, while his other hand collects your hands and pins them to the back of the couch, while he leans over you.
The angle change makes it all the more difficult to keep quiet. You toss your head to the side to avoid his gaze, the lopsided smile on his face, and his blown-out pupils. It’s easier to focus when you aren’t looking at him. He laughs under his breath and thrusts forward harder, driving even deeper.
A few moans tumble off your lips without permission, and you don’t need to look at him to know he’s pleased with himself.
You test the strength of his hand holding yours back, pushing against his grip.
“Don’t like being held down, pretty?” he asked, the soft lilt of his voice making you shiver. “That’s not what I remember.”
“I don’t remember you.” A moan breaks your sentence. “Being this annoying.”
“God, you love it though, don’t you?” he asks, slowing to an agonizing pace, languid drags that make your hips stutter, your lips part, your hands work harder against his grip. “You fucking love it. Look at you.”
Your next words are cut off by your phone, vibrating in your jacket pocket on the floor, a foot away from Yeonjun. His eyes shoot to it, and he stills inside of you.
“Yeonjun,” you say, a word of warning, because you know who’s on the other end of the phone call before he drops your hands and fishes the thing from your coat pocket, before he holds it up. A picture of your boyfriend on the screen, his name surrounded by hearts. Yeonjun’s finger hovers over the accept button. “Don’t you fucking dare,” you say, reaching forward to grab it.
He grabs your hands again, holding them in front of his chest.
“You should talk to him,” Yeonjun says. “He’s probably so worried.”
“Yeonjun,” you say again, sharply.
He clicks accept, then presses the phone against your ear, holding it there.
“Hello?” Jiung says, sounding a little more confused than normal.
You clear your throat. Yeonjun moves an inch, and you nearly bite through your lip. “Hey,” you manage to choke out. “It’s me.”
“Oh, good,” he says. “You found it.”
Yeonjun pulls out another inch, the slow drag against your walls short-circuiting your brain every time he does it. You’re glaring at him, but he’s just smiling, fucking proud of himself.
“Yeah,” you say. Another inch. “I—yeah, I found it.”
“You get lost in there?” he asks.
“No—no,” you say, breath catching as Yeonjun shifts forward, just as slow. “I should be right out. Sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“No worries, baby,” Jiung says.
Yeonjun rolls his eyes.
“I love you,” he says.
Yeonjun’s hips snap forward, and he buries himself fully. Your head rolls back, and your mouth falls open, but you don’t make a sound.
He stills enough to let you speak, and you’re looking at him, when you say it. “Love you too,” you say, but the words come out a fraction too breathy. You don’t have enough time to worry about whether or not it sounds suspicious.
Yeonjun pulls the phone away, ends the call, and tosses it back onto the floor. He releases your hands, and you lean forward, pushing his chest. “You’re an asshole,” you say, breathing heavily, trying to hit him and grab him at the same time.
“God, that was so hot,” Yeonjun says. “I bet he didn’t even know—didn’t even realize.” He laughs, starting his slow thrusts back up again.
Your nails dig into his shoulders as you pull him down. You can just barely mutter a “Shut up” against his lips before you kiss him. He returns your desperation, lets you slip your tongue into his mouth as he increases the pace of his thrusts. You break away to breathe, and he drops his forehead against yours, eyes finding yours.
Something softens in his expression, and your eyes fall closed under his kind gaze.
He pulls back, holding your legs upright again, spreading them so one rests against each shoulder. He drops a hand between them and finds your clit. His initial touch feels electric. He rubs lazy circles on it with his thumb, looking down, watching his cock drive into you over and over, harder and harder as you squirm, clenching around him while he increases the stimulation.
“Yeonjun, fuck, oh my god,” you moan, dropping your head backward.
He moans, too, the sound music to your ears. He places his other hand low on your stomach, flat—feeling himself fuck into you. “Fuck, baby,” he says, soft and reckless, enough to make you forget about anything else, anyone else. “You feel so goddamn good, it’s insane.”
He rolls your clit between two fingers, and you clench hard around him, slowing his pace a fraction. Your bach archs even more, and your hands reach out for something to hold onto, settling on the edge of the couch. You press yourself forward, hips rising to meet each thrust even as your thighs shake.
“That’s it,” he purrs. “Come on, baby, please.”
You say his name again, like a prayer—even though it feels fucking damning.
And when you cum, it’s with his lips crashing into yours, capturing your moans, and your hands grasping his bare skin, taking everything you can get.
You collapse back against the couch. For a moment, Yeonjun doesn’t move. He trails a few fingers along your jawline. His eyes wander your face. They meet your eyes, then shift away. He pulls out and stands up, quickly putting on his boxers and pants. You study the muscles in his back and the way they tense, before snapping back into reality.
You shift your underwear back into place and stand up, smoothing out your skirt. You pick your jacket up off the ground and slip your phone back into your pocket.
The room is dead silent, and Yeonjun won’t turn to look at you.
You clear your throat, and he does. “I should—um,” you say, dropping your eyes away from his gaze. You can’t even look at him, now. Not after that. Not when you have to go back to your boyfriend, waiting in the car, oblivious.
Yeonjun takes a step forward and fixes your hair, combing his fingers through it. He runs a finger just under your lip, wiping away some of the smudged lipstick.
You do look up at him, then, eyes widened, trying to figure him out.
“Do you love him?” Yeonjun asks as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.
The question makes you freeze. “Yes,” you say, after a moment. It’s the gut reaction. The answer you’re supposed to give. It’s not the truth. “No,” you say, but that doesn’t feel right either. “I don’t know.”
He doesn’t say anything, just keeps looking down at you, keeps adjusting your hair. It’s probably fine now, but he can’t stand the idea of ceasing physical contact. If he drops his hand, when will he get to touch you again?
Yeonjun nods.
“Okay,” he says, voice soft—almost broken. Something sad behind the word. An acceptance, maybe. He takes a step back, away from you and the heavy tension pressing on your shoulders.
He leans down next to a backpack and fishes something out.
He closes the distance again and presses a card into your hand.
“What—” you start to ask.
“That’s the key to my room,” he says.
“I can’t—”
“Break up with him, then come to my room tonight,” Yeonjun says. “Or don’t break up with him, I don’t care. Just come.”
You can’t bring yourself to look down at the card in your hand, can’t bring yourself to look away from his intense eye contact.
“Hell, I’ll be there for the next few days,” he says. “If you don’t come, I’ll know this didn’t mean anything.”
“Yeonjun—” you say, like you can figure this out now, talk this through now.
“You should go,” he says, leaning forward to press a kiss into your hair. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay,” you say, and you leave—hurrying out of the venue on shaky legs with your phone and an ultimatum.
I've been looking at posts all at once since I got to know you yesterday
It's already the best!
So please, please give me more Yeonjun's audio~~🥲🥲
awww hiii!!! wow you’ve looked at most of my posts?! genuinely that’s so sweet of you to say it’s the best😭💖 yes ofc hon, one jjunie audio coming right up~!
MDNI // nsfw audio
i feel like i need audios to be in genres. like this is obviously in the “wet sloppy whiny male” category…
content: friends with benefits (feelings are mutual actually), porn without plot, explciit mature content, munch! yeonjun, yeonjun wears rings+glasses+tongue piercing, one word of daddy used, unprotected sex, slight mean dom! yeonjun, light degrading, pictures taken (reader didn't give verbal consent but doesn't mind).
word count: 3.4k.
taglist: @lolliloopsy.
You knew you shouldn't be here.
Heck, you shouldn't have texted him in the first place. You had told yourself and your friends that you'll put a stop to this. That you will stop showing up at Yeonjun's doorstep. That you'll stop sleeping with him and letting him pull the reins.
But with the rate you were going, you've already made a fool of yourself.
Examinations were finally over and normally, you would be celebrating and having the time of your life at a party, getting drunk on whatever horrible drinks the party host had to offer. But here you are, on the second floor in his bedroom, laying on his bed with your clothes decorating the floor, no longer serving its purpose.
"Ngh, c-can't-," you whimpered.
You thrusted out your hands, blindly trying to finding something, anything to grip onto. Only for you to end up grabbing a fistful of Yeonjun's long, silky pitch-black hair while your free hand grasped onto the pillow beneath your head for dear life.
You could literally feel the way your pussy continuously pulsating around his skillful tongue. The cold, smooth surface of his tongue piercing occasionally bumping against your clit makes you see the white pearly gates of heaven. The way Yeonjun grinned into your pussy didn't went and feel unnoticed by you.
"Oh fuck!"
You cried out, back arching off the bed when he pushed two fingers in. There wasn't any resistance and the glide was smooth. He expertly curled them, easily locating that delicate, spongy spot and poked at it, causing stars to explode behind your eyelids. Your thighs trembled, your stomach muscles tightening with the all-too familiar feeling of arousal making its appearance.
You could hear the faint sounds of heavy-boosted music playing downstairs—a reminder of that you're supposed to be enjoying the party with your friends. And not laying on the sheets with your legs spread as Yeonjun have you for breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert too.
Goosebumps formed on your skin when you feel the cold frames of his glasses firmly pressed against your inner thighs, with how he was trying to bury his face in your dripping pussy. The rings Yeonjun wore didn't help either—the cold metal circles with different designs hovering over it had left imprints behind, with how hard he dug his fingers into your thighs.
The rings were covered in a thin layer of your slick—solid evidence of how you reaching your high a few minutes ago the moment your back hit the sheets.
Your ears turn red with embarrassment at the sound of Yeonjun greedily slurping your slick, like there was no tomorrow. You would have thought he was about to die, with how needy he was.
"Fuck, pussy so good. Could stay here forever," he whined, mind spinning with how addictive you taste on the tip of his tongue. To him, nothing could taste as good as you. If he could, he would rather spend the rest of his life living between your legs, worshiping you like you deserve it.
It's insane with the fact that he was able to make you come undone twice in the span of thirty minutes—a sign he knows your body well. Even better than you. You should be pushing him away, your poor, overstimulated pussy crying and screaming for help.
But you couldn't.
Not when Yeonjun gave a light, sharp nip to your puffy lips, causing you to cry out his name. You mewled when he chuckled against your pussy—the vibrations making your legs twitched.
"Shh, we don't want them to hear you now, do we? Unless that's something you're into," he shushed you, eyes flickering up to your face for a split second.
Your lips dropped, forming a silent 'O' shape at the feeling of him pushing two fingers into your stretched-out, red and swollen pussy. Yeonjun swore under his breath at how your gummy walls let him in with ease, feeling no form of resistance.
He pushed them in until he was knuckles-deep, his cold metal rings brushing against your pussy causing you to let out a series of soft whines and moans that sounds nothing but angelic to him.
"Look at you, already fucked out before I fuck you," he sneered, words dripping with disdain as he pushed himself up so he could get a clear, unobstructed view of your state.
Your eyes were glazed over with lust. Swollen, bruised lips parted as you panted, trying to catch your breath. Your hair was a mess, spread out beneath you. The sad excuse of the tank top you wore was pushed up, along with the straps of both your top and bra pushed down to your shoulders. Your neck was covered in hickeys and bite marks, thanks to Yeonjun who had purposely left them higher than what your shirts can conceal from the public's curious eyes.
He cooed when you whimpered, eyes rolling up to the back of your head as he curled his long, slender fingers in just the right angle, enough for you to see stars exploding in your vision. Stretching himself, he ducked his head so he could whisper into your left ear.
"Aw, what's wrong? Can't speak? What happened to the (Name) that was telling me she wanna end this, hm?" He taunts, his hot breath grazing against your skin with every word he spoke. He smirked when he felt you tighten around his fingers.
Yeonjun rested his thumb on your clit, pressing down on it before rubbing it in slow circles. His action made your legs kicked out but he was quick to hold you down, locking you in place. He moved back down, returning to his previous and rightful position.
This time, he paid special attention to your clit, licking at it only with the tip of his tongue. He could see how your pussy fluttered, with more slick dripping.
The filthy sight sends heat down to his cock, twithcing in the tight, uncomfortable restraints of his jeans. As much as he wants to pound into you with no mercy, he wants you to know that no matter what you say, you'll always come back to him. Because he's the only one who knows how to please you.
With newfound determination, Yeonjun buried his face deep in your pussy, until the tip of his nose brushed against your clit, gliding his tongue piercing along your walls. It's like he wants to die with him being suffocated by your pussy. This drew a moan from you, followed by your weak protests.
"Wait, t-too much—hah," you moaned, smacking his broad, sturdy shoulders but he was unfazed.
Slap!
You jumped when he landed a light, fleeting slap right on your core. The way your pussy reacted—fluttering at the mere contact didn't go unnoticed by him. And of course, he took this chance to tease you.
"Oh? Does this turns you on? Knew you're a dirty slut," he purred, running his ring finger along your puffy folds.
"Wonder how your friends will react if they see how much of a whore you are. Getting fucked by someone who you claimed you have had enough," he barked out a laugh.
He didn't give you time to breathe, to speak or to react. Yeonjun switched between licking and sucking on your clit until you were being tipped over the edge. He didn't slow down or let up, greedily swallowing your creamy slick like a man on a mission while pumping his fingers in and out of you. The bedroom was filled with the loud squelching sounds along with your pleasured sounds as it gradually get louder and louder.
A part of you felt embarrassed, thinking that the people downstairs will be able to hear you but the thought flew out of your mind when he slide his stained, dirtied fingers out of your leaking hole with an embarrassingly loud squelch sound. You felt boneless, your limbs growing as heavy as steel as you struggle to breathe, panting loudly to catch your breath.
Slap!
You let out a started yelp when Yeonjun slapped your stimulated, sensitive pussy for the second time. You glared at him, ready to tell him off but you paused at how his glasses were drenched with your slick. It's clear he didn't bother removing or cleaning it. You weren't sure why but seeing your body fluids dripping from his glasses made you want to rub your thighs together.
It's like he belongs to you. But deep down, you knew that won't happen.
The two of you had agreed that this was only a friends with benefit relationship, with no strings attached. But as time past, the lines start to blur. You weren't blind with the way Yeonjun was treating you—like you're his partner. His girlfriend.
And the thought would have made your heart flutter, if you haven't seen him shoving his tongue down some random girl's throat an hour ago.
That was what made you decided to pull your big girl pants up, to confront him—to tell him that you were done with this. But all it takes was for Yeonjun to cock his head to the side, pull you in by your waist and crash his lips against yours for you to forget everything else, bringing you to your current situation.
You let out a muffled whine against his lips as he rocked his hips against your core. You could feel the outline of his cock, thick and hanging between his legs and in the restraints of his jeans.
"Look at you, dripping all over me. Want me to fuck you, baby?" He chuckled, breaking the kiss.
His eyes flickered down, watching how you were soaking the thick fabric of his jeans with you grinding against him. The slightly rough surface made your pussy throbbed, the need to be filled rising.
You nodded your head, unable to find it in yourself to speak. But Yeonjun wasn't pleased. He reached down to give a mean pinch of your clit, watching how you flinched from it.
"Nuh uh, use your words, baby. I can't read your mind," he clicked his tongue.
And because this is Yeonjun, he pushes two fingers back into your stretched pussy, easily finding that one spongy spot and wasted no time in abusing it, reducing you to a whining mess as you couldn't speak. You wildly thrashed about on the soiled sheets, letting out a series of moans and whines along with the chanting of his name. Although, you weren't sure if you want him to stop or to keep going.
"I'm waiting," he drawled.
Unlike you, who was already fucked out and in a mess, Yeonjun was still fully clothed and relaxed, like he has all the time in the world. The contrast of your appearances show the dynamic of your relationship. Of who's sitting on the throne while who obeys who.
"J-Junie," you mewled, accidentally using his nickname instead of his real name but he didn't point it out.
His eyes were focused on your face, admiring how responsive you are to every single, little touch. Something possessive dark came to life at the thought of how no one else was able to see you like this. About how he was the reason why and how you had ended up like this.
"Yes, sweetheart? C'mon, use your words. I know you want it," he coax you, as if you're actual lovers when you're far from that.
You whimpered, pawing at the front of his black shirt as you looked at him with teary eyes, lips curling down in a pout.
"P-Please, wan' you to touch me.. Wanna feel you.."
"Oh? But I am touching you already. You gotta be more specific," he teases, his fingers moving in a scissors-like movement in your pussy, making a series of squelching sounds that sounds like something shot straight out of a pornographic movie.
You sniffled, tear droplets trickling down your cheeks. "M-Mean, so mean," you babbled.
Yeonjun did everything but to give in to your pleas. He furrowed his eyebrows, purposely jutting his lips down to a pout—copying your expression.
"Mean? You're saying I'm mean when you're the one laying on my bed and soaking my sheets? Guess you don't want my cock then."
To show that he wasn't lying, he pulled his fingers out, ignoring your pathetic attempts of trying to stop him, to hold him in place. He backed away, ready to get out of bed when you shot up, hand grabbing his wrist.
"No, don't!" You protested.
Yeonjun paused, looking at you over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow. "Don't what?"
"..Don't go," you muttered under your breath, not having the courage to face him.
"And why not?"
You internally groaned at how he was playing hard to get. If you were in your right mind, you would've said something snarky but at this point, you were too far gone to care. All you care about was getting his stupid cock in you, wanting him to fill you up. And the sooner he do it, the better it is for you. And maybe him, but who knows?
"'Cause I want you to.." Your voice trailed off, hesitant and embarrassed.
"To? Go on, I'm listening," he prods you further, lips curling up in a smirk. You were almost tempted to smack it off his stupidly handsome face. Curse him and his good looks.
"Want you to fuck me, pretty please?" You begged.
The moment those words left your lips, you were being shoved down into the sheets but this time, onto your arms and knees with your bare ass up in the air. You squeaked, face buried in the pillow—the very same pillow that you had drooled on. Your ears registered the sounds of Yeonjun unbuckling his belt, followed by the unzip of his jeans.
"W-Wait—hngh!"
You protested, only for the words to die in your throat as your fluttering cunt were being split into half, condom forgotten. The obscene sound of slick spewing out everywhere reverberated against the thin four walls.
Your elbows were trembling while trying to support your body weight. No matter how many times you've done this, you still couldn't get used to the grith and size of his cock. Without the condom, you could feel every ridge against your gummy, velvety walls.
Yeonjun, on the other hand, felt like he was in heaven. He sharply inhaled, digging his hands into your waist as he looks down at you from above, desire glimmered in his clouded eyes.
"Shit, you feel so good. So tight for me," he murmured, his right hand tracing the outline of your spine, feeling the way you shivered under his touch. Leaning down so his body engulfed yours, shielding you from the ceiling lights, he whispered into your right ear, the hand that was on your spine now moved to tease your hardened right nipple, kneading your breast like it's dough.
"You like this, don't you? Like that you're made for me," he coos.
"Choi Yeonjun, if you don't start moving, I swear to god I'll—"
You couldn't finish your half-empty threat, not when he starts pounding into your swollen pussy at a harsh, unrelenting and unforgiving pace—a breathless but loud moan was ripped from your throat—needy, carnal and erotic.
Your pussy was comically stretched wide around his member to accommodate the girthy size. The coil in your stomach enlarges as every second passed by how full you felt as he slides in and out of your soaked center.
Yeonjun lets out a mean, low chuckle. "You'll what? Find someone else to fuck you?" He paused, forcefully pushing you down into the pillow and grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging on it like he's riding a horse.
The sounds you let out could be compared to a professional pornstar, with how you're babbling nonsense and chanting his name like a sacred prayer. You couldn't speak or focus on anything else but on the intoxicating feeling of his cock hitting that one sensitive spot, over and over.
"Think you can find someone else to keep you and this greedy little cunt of yours satisfied?" He sneered, his free hand moving to pinch your poor, sensitive clit.
He laughed at how your tighten around him at his action. "They'll never be able to keep up with you, princess. Only I can and you best remember that."
"Ngh, I-I'm so-sorry daddy," you moaned, not even aware that you had slipped up but thankfully, Yeonjun was too far gone to notice.
"Yeah? You're sorry? If you're sorry then you better moan my name so everyone can hear who's making you feel this good," he snarled, tugging your hair backwards.
"F-Fuck! It's y-you, Yeonjun! Oh god, I'm gonna cum," you let out a wanton and high-pitched moan, not caring if the people downstairs were able to hear it or not.
"Then cum," he demanded, delivering one final, sharp and hard thrust that buries himself deep to the hilt as you came with his name spilling from your lips, smooth like water.
Yeonjun was quick to follow suit, spilling deep inside of you as he painted your abused walls white. He groaned, leaning back to get a magnificent view of a creamy, white ring surrounding the base of his cock. He spread you apart, watching while chewing on his bottom lip at how the sticky, thick and white strands are further spread apart.
Snap snap!
The sound of a camera going off made you twitched as you lay on the sheets, body violently twitching from the aftershocks of a mind-blowing orgasm. You wanted to question him but you didn't have the strength in you to push yourself up or even turn your head to his direction.
While you remained laying on his bed, body already turned to goo, Yeonjun was still able to move perfectly fine, like he wasn't the cause for your current state.
He got off the bed, running a hand through his ruffled, messed-up black hair as he headed to the joint bathroom. He reappeared shortly, holding two damp towels. One to wipe you down and the other for himself. Yeonjun muttered soft apologies when you flinched from the towel's rough surface against your sensitive pussy.
Once he was done, he changed the sheets, replacing them with new ones. He then handed you a plastic bottle of water, even helping to unscrew the tightly sealed lid and you gulped it down without hesitation.
"Here, you can wear this while your clothes are being washed in the washing machine," he murmured, handing you a pile of clean, fresh clothes.
Nodding, you allowed him to aid you in wearing them. You were immediately hit with the scent of his lingering cologne as his clothes completely engulf you. You saw the way Yeonjun's eyes lingered on your frame, drinking in the way you fit in his clothes before he forcefully tear them away.
You fiddled with the left sleeve, unsure of what to say. Normally, you would be getting dressed and leave his room but something tells you that just for today, something was different.
"..Do you wanna stay for the night? It's late and it isn't safe for you to go home," he asked, uncertainty laced in his voice.
Gone was the cocky and smug Yeonjun, now replaced with him acting awkward and shy, as if he wasn't the one responsible for blowing your back out a few minutes ago. Your heart softened at how he scratched the back of his neck, fiddling with his now cleaned rings.
"Yea, sure. I'll stay," you murmured, your heart skipping when his face lit up like a lightbulb.
Yeonjun got onto the bed, making himself comfortable and you followed. You ended up resting your head under his chin as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close until you're squashed against his chest. You didn't say anything, didn't mention about why he was doing this out of a sudden.
There wasn't any need to. Not when you already knew how he feels when he pressed a soft, loving kiss on your forehead. Not when he draw invisible, random patterns on your elbow lovingly.
"Good night, I'll be here when you wake up," he whispered and if you closed your eyes, you can hear the smile in his words.
And just like that, you fell asleep, entering the land of dreams with him following suit.
× small suggestive older!txt scenarios for each member
w: older!txt, dom!txt, f!reader, age gap, size differences, dirty talk, big dicks, belly bulge, choking, fingering, 3some (tyunning)
SOOBIN
Soobin sighed deeply, putting a hand on your stomach to feel the rise and fall of your belly. He was fucking you against the table in his kitchen in a very slow rhythm, rolling your clit with his middle finger at the same pace. You were clenching the table with your hands and often gasping for breath. He always started slowly and carefully, taking his time to get you nice and wet, he cared about that.
It wasn't the first time his daily questions to make sure you were eating well, or that his great cooking was an invitation to sex. At the counter or at the table, he has always fucked you in the best way possible.
As your cheeks touched for a second, you tried to open your eyes. He was slowly expanding your walls and withdrawing.
Forward and back, forward and back... Your clit was hard from being poked between his fingers.
“Is that good?” His warm breath hit the hollow of your neck and his soft lips brushed against your skin for a second. You sighed, moving your hips a little more towards him, unable to keep your eyes open. Without waiting, you nodded at his question, Soobin's lips touched your temple, then kissed the corner of your eye.
When he pull his hand away from your lips, you realized that he had almost numbed your pussy from stroking it. With his hands on your sides, on the table, he pushed deeper than before and stood in that perfect position with his crotch pressed against your hips.
One of his hands left the table and crept up to your neck and his long warm fingers gently wrapped around your throat. “Watch it.”
He whispered and looked down at your belly with you. As he pulled his hips back and rolled them back to you, he was proud of the way he stirred your insides and made your belly swell slightly.
“Oh...”
“You feel it, don't you?” his thumb stroked your throat slowly, making you feel like he was controlling himself not to squeeze.
You loved how he took care of you.
Now he closed his eyes as his open mouth rested on your shoulder and his movements reached a more pronounced speed.
“You are the most beautiful thing I've ever tasted.”
YEONJUN
Yeonjun's eyes close heavily, his hand in your hair, presses you against his chest and gently rests his chin on the top of your head. “That's it... That's my girl.” murmurs quietly. Listening to your gasps after orgasm is his favorite thing.
He knows how much you love bouncing on his lap. Even more so when you can't wait to get home and ride him in his car. From day one he lets you do whatever you want on his lap.
It makes you tremble to feel his pulse and to know that it's because of you. Your arms around his neck tighten and you nuzzle your face more into his neck.
“Hey, don't hide from me...” he smiles without opening his eyes. “You were so wild just a minute ago.”
It's a phrase that can make you hide even more in his neck and he knows it as he traces a soft path down your spine with his thumb. He likes to feel your smile against the warm skin of his neck. Knowing how to make you smile.
When you can think again, you realize that the car is now hot and muggy. Your arms loosen around his neck, slide down to his shoulders and Yeonjun puts his hands on your legs.
“Let me take it off for you.”
It's like he always knows what you need. As you pull away and let him, the idea that the reason for all this heat could be just him and his damn good attention makes more sense than anything else.
“You're so beautiful.”
He whispers just after he slowly takes off of your shirt. He lays it neatly on the passenger seat for you to put it on later and his hands immediately find your waist.
Your foreheads press softly together, his palms move up and down on your back making you sigh.
“I want to take this off too.” he speaks as two fingers slip under your bra, the depth of his voice warming your stomach. You whisper: “Please.”
He always loves it when you approve like that.
It's exciting to undress you, of course, but the gentleness of his fingertips never changes, slowly reaching for the clasp.
Your eyes closed, breathing heavily. His fingers sliding slowly down your shoulder, removing your bra completely.
He pulls back as far as he can just look at your body and, without taking his eyes off your chest, he drops the bra on your shirt on the passenger seat . His warm hands first just touch your skin, then move up from your waist to your stomach and from there to your breasts, cupping them.
You want to hear the words playing indecisively between his lips, but he bites his lower lip with all those dirty words.
Your eyes meet as his thumbs brush against your nipples for a second, making you shiver.
“Shall we continue?”
BEOMGYU
Beomgyu's warm breath is on your face, his thumb caressing your parted lips as he watches them. “Do you want to try again?” he whispers, so that you can feel his breath on the inside of your lips. It's a crazy feeling that can make you beg to kiss him.
“I...” you start, but when he looks at the honey-soaked stars in your eyes, your breath catches. You know he can kill so many things with his eyes.
The slight smile on his lips tells you he has his answer. He slowly removes his hand from your face and brings it to your waist. “Hold on to my shoulders.”
You listen to him, wrap your arms around his shoulders and one of his hands is holding his cock. The image crushes your stomach, you even feel like you could drip.
“Take it slowly,” After positioning himself at your entrance, he squeezes your hip and watches you take a deep breath. “Slowly...” you rub your wetness on the tip of his cock, squeezing his shoulders. Your thighs tremble a little under his gaze.
He never forces you for anything, he can work wonders with his fingers or his mouth. But when you tell him you want him inside you, how can he resist?
“Just like that...” The way you eagerly want to take him completely and the way your pussy swallows him inch by inch, just like now, can drive him crazy. You are too small in his arms, too small for his cock... “Oh,” your hands slide to the nape of his neck as you sit nicely on his lap. Your hole starts to squeeze him deliciously and you gasp into each other's mouths. “Oh, so good... You feel so good.”
The feeling of fullness disrupts the steadiness of your breathing, but it doesn't prevent a messy kiss.
Beomgyu leans his head against the headboard as he closes his eyes and lets your tongue enter his mouth. One hand grips your thigh tightly, and the other hand is in your hair, giving the kiss the attention it needs.
“Tell me when you want me to move.” a little later his voice sounds deeper as he murmurs against your lips.
“I want to.” you answer him breathlessly.
“Right now? Are you sure?” his hand slides from your soft hair to your cheek.
“I want you to fuck me however you want.”
Your voice can't stop trembling despite the cheekiness of your words, just like your hands. You make him open his mouth slightly and the last of the gentleman in his eyes disappears.
But it feels like he's been waiting for you to say it, as his hand soon grabs your throat and pulls you into a more passionate kiss.
TAEHYUN & KAI
Kai's slender fingers gently slide down over your white socks and rest on your calf. “Have you thought about it?” he asks. There is a tenderness in his eyes that is always there when he looks at you. “Safe word.” he adds. You can feel his calm curiosity. Something sparkles in his eyes, making you squirm in Taehyun's lap. An even more intense feeling makes your stomach ache when he tilts his head and looks at you.
“I,” you begin. Of course you have thought about it. “I trust you.”
They are the very definition of trust for you. They are the safest place in the world and they will always make sure that it is always like that for you.
Kai's lips part an inch or so as he continues to look into your eyes, either waiting for you to continue or not yet knowing what to say.
They probably weren't expecting to hear hear such an answer.
Taehyun's quiet giggle is right next to your ear. He kisses your temple. “Of course.” he murmurs. “But it would be good to have a word, darling.” His palms slide down your shoulders. “Sometimes to stop and sometimes to change things.” His fingertips brush lightly against your neck as he gently gathers your hair and lets it fall down your back. “We should have one, even if you don't think you'll use it.”
His fingers take their time in the locks of your hair. He strokes and combs them. As he does some nights to help you sleep. You are not yet over the period in your relationship when you are timid about things and sometimes of them directly, and this is because there are so many positive emotions. So many emotions that make you sometimes shy and sometimes brave. Probably not being able to fully explain this love is what caused the safe word issue, but it's okay, you just saw both of their eyes when you told them you trusted them.
You're looking there when Kai's hands touch your knees. There is a small smile on his lips. “So you haven't decided on a word?” His thumbs trace circles on your skin. “You trust us that much?” His voice gets a little lower as he leans into your face and you both smile. While yours is more shy, he has a different one. Taehyun's hands settle on your waist, and he smiles as he watches you both.
“So cute.” Kai whispers. "I'm glad." Even as he leans down and presses his lips to yours, he is still smiling a little. It only lasts a few seconds, but it's enough to send a tingle through your body. And it definitely works in tandem with the other warm kiss Taehyun places on your neck.
“So let's decide on one together?” Kai suggests, the tips of your noses still touching. You don't want to keep your eyes open, maybe you want to be kissed some more, but above all you make sure you nod to Kai.
Taehyun places his hands on your thighs, places the next kiss near the nape of your neck. “You can think about the things you love.” He murmurs against your skin. “Your favorites.” He kisses you once more. You can feel him close his eyes. “Your favorite color, your favorite flower, your favorite fruit...”
Kai tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and stares intensely into your half-lidded eyes. If you're going to choose the word from your favorite things, it's best to suggest their names.
You slowly turn your head towards Taehyun. Your noses brush against each other as Kai's hands touch your thighs. One of Taehyun's hands takes its place on your thigh, he always loves the lazy desire in your eyes. His other hand slowly moves up to your throat and wraps gently around it. He pulls you into a slow but very warm kiss.
One of Kai's hands gives a ghostly touch to the thin fabric of your underwear. His other hand moves away from between your legs and touches your stomach, pressing gently. He makes you lean fully against Taehyun's chest. He doesn't take his eyes off the two of you in your messy kiss, index finger runs up and down the fabric.
Taehyun's hand moves to your cheek and continues to dominate the kiss. He makes you tilt your head back a little more and presses his tongue against your mouth. You tremble in Taehyun's lap as Kai presses his finger against your clit at the same time, swallowing a moan.
Now Kai's shadow is closer, you can feel it. His fingers slowly pull your underwear aside. His hot breath hits your cheek, his thumb starts to roll your clit. It takes your breath away, you can't focus on the kiss and it makes Taehyun smile slightly.
“Is that good?” Kai asks as he increases the speed of his fingers a little more. You blink heavily, turning to him for an answer, but there are only ragged breaths. You try to nod your head vaguely, interrupted by Kai pressing your foreheads together. You put your hands on his shoulders. You feel a finger slowly slipping into your slit. It sharpens the sensation, your body losing control more and more. Taehyun grips your trembling thighs and spreads your legs wider.
When you are about to forget all the words on the lap where you sit to think of a safe word, a sweet light comes on in your mind
“Dandelion.”
You say suddenly. It stops Taehyun's lips working on your neck and Kai's on your chin. And then the fingers. The sudden cessation of pleasure creates a strange tingling in your body. The word hangs in the air for a few seconds because they were too engrossed in taking care of you just now.
"Oh." Kai pulls back slightly to look at your face. "I stop then?" he says, raising his eyebrows. "No, no!" you say quickly, your hands squeezing his shoulders. "I just found the word."
Kai's smile shines, grasping your elbows and caressing your skin. He is addicted to the look on your face when he messes with you.
Taehyun's arms wrap around your waist, he tilts his head to look at you. He seems to like the word. “So sweet.”
When his old-fashioned language sometimes shows itself, he puts you and flowers in the same class. He murmurs the flower as he kisses your cheek: “Dandelion.”
thanks for reading✨
please show lots of love and support for yeonjun. let's be there for him before and after he comes back. ♥️
