#Choi Yeonjun x m!reader

[nino-rox]

Choi Yeonjun x Male Reader | S.M

Warnings: NSFW Gay Sex, Sexual themes (unprotected sex, consensual sex, degradation, rough), FwB Top Yeonjun and Bottom male reader.

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post.

“I don- I don’t think it’ll fi- AAAHhh,” you yelped in pain as you felt Yeonjun shove his entire length inside you without warning. Before you could take a moment to catch your breath, he pulled out almost entirely and thrust himself back into you.

You feel the heat coming from between your legs again, and there is nothing you can do to stop yourself from squirming against him. You whimper and whine as his thick dick fills every inch of your insides. Tears flowed down your eyes as Yeonjun spanked you with every thrust saying, “You like that slut? You like my cock fucking your slut hole?” in a deep voice.

“Ahhhhhh… Yeon… Jun…. Please… It hurts so much. Slow down a bit,” you said as you begged for mercy.

But Yeonjun just laughed at you, saying, “slutty bitch, do you really want me to slow down? Your mouth says slow down, but your hole is saying something else entirely,” He lifted your ass up and slammed his dick into you as hard as he could.

With tears streaming down your face, you gasp loudly as you feel his cock hit your prostate, making you elicit sinful moans of pleasure, but Yeonjun wasn’t finished yet.

He took hold of your arms with one hand while grabbing your hair with the other, forcing you on all fours as he plunged his cock deep inside you over and over again. Each time, it hits your G-spot, causing you to cry out as your body shuddered violently.

Your feet were now resting flat on the ground. At the same time, you hung onto the edge of the bed, crying out each time Yeonjun thrust inside you, your hole being abused by this man, who you barely knew. Still, here you were, letting him do whatever he wanted to you, helpless and at his mercy - and you loved it.

It seemed he couldn’t get enough of you either because he kept pumping harder and faster until he shot his load inside you. Your walls clamped around his cock, squeezing the last drop of cum out of him before you collapsed onto the floor, gasping for air. Only to get grabbed by the hair as he said, “We’re not done till you pass out slut.”

REQUEST FOR PART 2!

[buttersmama]

TIME APART

Choi yeonjun x m!reader

Summary: m/n and yeonjun have an argument, they make up by talking and kissing.

Tw: mentions of abusive parents, yj raises his voice (like once?), Making out.

Wc: 5.4k+ (this shit is longg 🗿)

NOT PROOFREAD!

Also this was a request! Sorry anon but i made changes for some parts!!

"This is the dumbest excuse I've ever heard! are you even thinking or are you just spewing nonsense to my face?"

"You know what I'll leave. This is going nowhere." M/n said ending the argument right on the spot. This wasn't new to him, over the past few days they've been like...this! And m/n didn't even know where to begin.

At the start of their relationship yeonjun was never like this! now all he does is come home after his shoot, eat and argue with m/n for petty reasons and then he would storm off leaving m/n to think it was his fault.

But now when m/n recalled the past events that took place after taehyun's party. It all seemed clear now, this wasn't new, yeonjun had already started to avoid m/n. He had started being more secretive, hanging out less and less with each day that passed.

With this information at hand, m/n wanted to confront yeonjun. Ask him why he was being so fucking difficult. Yeonjun was in the living room on his phone, talking to someone. Wanting to give him privacy, m/n waited till he was done and stormed into the room.

"What is it?" Yeonjun asked quickly as he saw m/n.

"I think we need to talk, yes?"

"No we don't, you said all you had to just a while ago."

"Look there's clearly something wrong. I've noticed after tyun's party you have been ignoring me? I hope there is a plausible reason for that?"

"Do you seriously not know what you did?!" Yeonjun said, suddenly raising his voice. He came dangerously close to m/n, due to the sudden behavioral change, m/n's heart raced in fear.

Throughout their four years of relationship he had never raised his voice. His eyes swelled up looking at yeonjun in petrified. With a hand on his chest m/n tried to calm himself.

Even after seeing m/n in this state yeonjun didn't stop he kept on going with his words and actions he had truly lost m/n as he couldn't take it anymore he ran away.

He locked himself in his room and made his mind to move out, maybe this would be the best option. They both needed some space especially away from each other.

M/m wasted no time in packing his luggage and calling up a friend to stay over for the night. Luckily, Felix was a sweetheart and agreed. By the time m/n went out of the room, he saw yeonjun had already left the apartment.

Despite it being so late at night, felix came to pick up m/n. The ride was unusually long and silent. Felix never tried to pry much apart from what m/n told him and after all m/n didn't want to talk about their arguments in front of lix.

Though felix did try to maintain a conversation, he only received one word answers. He didn't expect anything else judging from the way m/n talked to him over the phone.

Once they reached, felix helped with the luggage and got the guest room ready for m/n. M/n falls asleep right as he lays on the bed. The tiredness and the events that happened throughout the day had drained him.

The next morning came by and when yeonjun came back home, expecting his boyfriend to be right there so maybe just maybe he could apologize for his actions, he found the home deserted. Too cold even.

Where was m/n? Why didn't he tell he was going somewhere? Yeonjun immediately called m/n. He couldn't reach m/n though. Then he realised m/n could have blocked him. With a deep sigh yeonjun sat down defeated.

To put it simply, the next week without m/n went worse and worse for jun. Words couldn't express how much he missed the latter. He had tried contacting several people to just to get in touch with m/n.

He didn't think the argument would stretch out this much, he didn't even think that m/n would ever leave him. Yeonjun sighed in defeat. Suddenly his phone went of with a notif.

'yeonjun you are expected to be at the. Hybe quaters in half an hour'

'something urgent came up. This is regarding your future collaborations with bubbery'

The manager had messaged him. Soon enough as instructed yeonjun got ready to move out. Taking his car keys and locking the door behind him.

Yeonjun started the car and headed to the hybe company, he stopped at the red signal waiting for it to turn green. While waiting though he heard m/n, his laugh precisely. The blond immediately parked the car temporarily and followed the source.

Just as he turned around the corner, he could see him.

M/n.

Laughing and smiling there without him. At that moment yeonjun sprung forward and took m/n by his arm pulling him away from the stranger, m/n on the other hand tried to pull away but he couldn't put up a fight against his junnie.

"Yeonjun what is going on! Stop?! Yah! you hear me!?" M/n irritated but yeonjun only stopped once they were near his car. Opening the passenger side, yeonjun made m/n sit.

When he was in the car too, he looked the latter. Hands folded with an angry face.

"Listen i know i shouldn't have done that but what was i supposed to do? You weren't answering my calls, there was absolutely no way I could have reached you!" Yeonjun started.

"a-and do you know how terrible these past few weeks have been without you? M/n i beg you please come home, I'll be better i promise!" Yeonjun stated with complete desperation.

M/n still remained silent though. In worry yeonjun continued again-

"i-im really sorry m/n, please.. the reason I was so closed of and rude was that i was being fucking jealous. At the party seeing you all dolled up and pretty i don't know what came over me, and now that i think about it, it was all so stupid! If i could go back in time I would definitely but for now can you forgive me?"

Yeonjun completed, eyes laced with fear of being rejected and of guilt. M/n looked at him. His eyes softened, he couldn't see his poor junnie in such a state.

M/n wiped the stray tears away from yeonjun's puffy eyesand held him close. "I'm sorry too, i shouldn't have left without any explanation. It's just that i have had abusive parents you know? Especially my father... So seeing you get all mad scared me to death and thus i left in a hurry."

At that yeonjun shook his head.

"You don't have to apologise it was me who was at fault." Yeonjun said.

M/n smiled taking the blond in another hug.

"Thank you for everything, my love"

"m/n, can i- can i kiss you!" Yeonjun asked in a hurry making both of them flush in embarrassment.

"What? Are you embarrassed? You are so cute juni" m/n teased, before yeonjun could reply, m/n placed his lips against yeonjun's.

Kissing yeonjun was soft. His lips fall open at brush of m/n's tounge. Welcomeing him, making him feel just right.

Kissing yeonjun was hot. The little noises he makes when m/n sucks on his bottom lip as he pulls on his hair.

Just when m/n pulled apart, he hears a whine and then is immediately pulled back in to the kiss. M/n hopes nothing ever comes in between them.

From a scale of 1 to 69 how bad did i shit?

[ghstzzn]

princess treatment | c.yj & k.th

pairing(s): choi yeonjun x f!reader x kang taehyun genre: smut, one shot, friends with benefits, porn with context warnings/tags: unprotected sex, threesome, multiple orgasms, rough sex, degradation, oral (m! rec), manhandling, mean doms!taejun, fingering, double penetration, yeonjun is taunting and chatty, taehyun is just mean. petnames (baby & princess) name calling (slut, whore & bitch) ++ clubbing, drinking. also there is not a single kiss or makeout sesh in this lol

summary: the birthday girl gets what she wished for.

note: my dreamsum. god bless the frat boy daddy line. special tag to @sammylvr bc shes been waiting SO long for this & thx for letting me yap for over a month abt this... word count: 3.8k oops

You had two ideas in mind for how this night could end; either it ending with you blacking out and waking up with possible alcohol poisoning, or with you ending up in a stranger's bed getting the best (most mid) dick of your life.

Again, you had. 

Now, you found yourself playing with fire. Two tall, scorching hot fires. 

A dumb smile played on your lips as you went back and forth between Taehyun and Yeonjun throughout the night. Bending over to softly speak into one of their ears under the claim that the clubs music was too loud, or your touch that lingered on their arms and chest, giggling at whatever they said–even bending over in your tiny black skirt as you reached for your cup of overpriced liquor that you accidentally left on the other side of the table.

You’ve had your fair share of the two men, not knowing ever where your relationship stood with either of them. But, you couldn’t care less, you were young and having fun–plus, everyone and their mothers were aware that you occasionally fuck one of the two best friends. What they don’t know is that it’s been at least a month since the last interaction, physical and verbal, with both of them. 

It wasn’t a huge falling out with them, but it was awkward and eye opening (and very self destructive.) Simply put, you woke up one day and realized you needed to stop fucking two of your closest friends. Though, it didn’t go well with either Yeonjun or Taehyun.

The two were adamant about the entire situation not even meaning anything to them, and that friends could fuck and share their girls without any strings attached or hurt feelings. And while you agreed, you couldn’t hide the disappointment that lingered in your chest. After that conversation, you slowly distanced yourself from the two, hoping that fate would take it into its own hands and fix your friendship for you. They would regularly reach out to you and you wouldn’t always ignore them (you also took Yeonjun in a bathroom at some random house party but no one needed to know.)

You also couldn’t deny the way your body continued to crave them with each. passing. day. It was frustrating–the way you were scared of losing them but still had sinful dreams of them taking your body like it was nothing. Both of them. 

God, you needed them again. 

Tonight started out weirdly. One of your best friends, Yunjin, jokingly suggested you invite the two to your birthday party at the club, but the suggestion turned serious when she said, “wait, but like, what if they actually come?” “Plus, they’d surely open their wallets if they did show up. Just do it!” 

You should’ve expected them to show up though, they were or are some of your closest friends.

It was awkward for you at first, but it wasn’t long before your mind cleared and realized that; fuck it, its your birthday and you deserve to have a little fun. Your plans from earlier completely thrown out the window as your third eye opened and your chakra lined up (a.k.a you totally just wanted to fuck with the two the entire night, again, it’s your birthday and you’re just a girl afterall.)

“How much have you had to drink?” Taehyun asks, his hand on your knee as you sit as close as possible to him in the booth.

“Honestly, not much at all.” 

Taehyun nods slowly at your reply and you just send him a tight lipped smile. A new song starts playing, making you gasp and shout how much you loved this song. Before Taehyun could say anything, you stood up, using his upper thigh to help you stand. He takes a deep breath as he watches you skip away into the crowd, throwing your arms around your friend's neck. His gaze leaves yours, only to find Yeonjun who flickered his eyes between your figure and his own. Taehyun quickly gulps the rest of his drink down before standing, a plan forming in his own mind.

You knew exactly what you were doing

And if you thought they’d have moved on from you–oh, were you dead wrong.

You were quick to notice Taehyun's figure moving around the club, you couldn’t pin down his stone cold expression, whether he was upset or not–no one could know.

You tried to follow your eyes to where he was headed, but the crowded dance floor made it almost impossible. Taking a few deep breaths, you silently decide to tone it down and go back to dancing, hoping to avoid Taehyun and Yeonjun for at least an hour–or the rest of the night. 

But maybe your not-so-innocent game has backfired on you.

You didn’t know how much time passed, but the dance floor was starting to wear you out and you definitely needed a five minute breather. Tapping Yunjin's shoulder, you quickly shout that you were going to go grab a drink, she sends you a thumbs up and you squeeze your way out of the crowd. 

As you near the bar, you notice Taehyun and Yeonjun sitting next to each other. You reach the bar, quickly ordering a water and some random vodka mix. When you turn your head, your eyes meet Yeonjun's, who leaned back against the bar with an arm thrown over the back of the bar stool, sending you a sweet smile. Taehyun followed his line of vision, his eyes scanning over your body as he notices you. The bartender returns with your water and other drink, and feeling pressured by the two men’s gaze, you slowly make your way towards them.

“Ah, there’s the birthday girl!” Yeonjun greets you, “Where have you been, princess? Missed you over here.”

You set your drinks down next to theirs on the bar, throwing a thumb over your shoulder towards the dance floor. “Dancing. It hasn’t even been a full thirty minutes since I last saw the both of you.”

Taehyun takes a swig of his drink before replying, “Thirty minutes drags by when you aren’t running your hands all over the both of us every five minutes.”

You shyly avert your gaze from him, earning a chuckle from Yeonjun.

“Are you guys enjoying your night?” 

You face Taehyun again, expecting an answer from him. Yeonjun stands from his stool, stepping behind you, his breath hitting your ear. You shiver at the sudden closeness.

“That’s what you're curious about?” Taehyun questions, leaning back in his seat.

“Well, I-” 

Yeonjun cuts you off, “What happened to the handsy girl from earlier? Thought you were gonna come over here with more obvious neediness.”

You only bite your bottom lip in response, suddenly feeling hot with Yeonjun's hands ghosting over your waist and Taehyun's gaze burning into you. “Obvious?”

Taehyun lets out a dry laugh at your meak response. You couldn’t linger on his reaction with Yeonjun's fingers trailing down your back, his eyes falling on the miniskirt you were wearing. Suddenly, he pushes you towards Taehyun, softly but still enough to have you stabilize yourself with your hands on his thighs. 

“What’s wrong, princess? Feeling okay?” Taehyun asks. You look at him with confusion written all over your face.

Did he miss how Yeonjun practically threw you at him?

“I’m… fine?” You remove your hands from his thighs, earning a look from him that you can’t quite read.

Yeonjun lays the back of his hand against your cheek, his chest flush with your back. 

“You sure? You’re feeling hot,” he presses, “we should get you home.. Don’t want you getting sick here on your birthday, no?”

You turn halfway to face Yeonjun, blinking at both men. Taehyun was mumbling something about telling your friends that you’d be leaving and grabbing your bag while Yeonjun softly brushed a piece of hair behind your ears, smiling widely at you. 

Sat in between the two in the backseat of an uber, you fiddle with your bag nervously. Yeonjun made small talk with the driver as his hand laid on your thigh, his pinky finger drawing circles right under the hem of your skirt. Taehyun on the other hand had his arm rested against the car door, eyes fixed on your exposed thighs. You only stared straight at the windshield in front of you.

The drive back to Yeonjun’s high rise felt almost suffocating, and not exactly in a bad way. The stunt they pulled back at the club was enough to tell you what was happening next, but when you read their faces–you only see emotions that make you want to apologize.

Leaning into Taehyun slightly as Yeonjun continues his conversation with the driver, you catch his attention, “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t mean to gh-”

“Doesn’t matter now–we can talk about it later if it bugs you that bad.” He cuts you off. You nod and settle back against the seat, Yeonjun’s hand squeezing your thigh as he shoots you a small smirk. He leans back into the seat, ending his conversation with the driver, who ends up turning the radio up.

“You’ll show us how sorry you are, won’t you?” His lips graze your ear, each word sending goosebumps down your neck. 

When you don’t reply, he only asks again, traveling his hand further up your skirt reaching his fingers under the band of your flimsy underwear. You breathe out a small yes, drawing a chuckle out of Yeonjun, who places a kiss against your head.

“Good girl.”

Suddenly, Taehyun is grabbing your hand and helping you out of the car. The journey up to the apartment is a blur as you’re too busy trying to steady your pounding heart.

As soon as you enter the apartment, he throws your bag and any other belongings he was carrying onto the couch while Yeonjun has his hands firmly on your waist from behind. 

“I mean, seriously.” Yeonjun is barely centimeters away from your ears, his hands sliding up your waist to grab at the end of your skimpy top. “One moment she's completely ghosting her two best friends, and the next moment she's all over them like a whore.”

You gulp at his words, the insult going straight to your core. “That’s not–I wasn’t trying to gho-”

“Oh, no baby, it’s okay~.” There’s a pause. “Right, Taehyun?”

You look up from the ground, suddenly inches away from Taehyun. You were now sandwiched in between the two men.

“Get out of that head of yours. You’re the only one convincing yourself that this is wrong.” He repeats the same words spoken the night you brought it all up to them.

The one button holding your entire shirt together was undone in an instant and Yeonjun dragged the top down your arms slowly, making sure to trail his fingers along your skin.

“I’m sure she can make it up to us.” Taehyun replies flatly. 

“Don’t worry, baby, it’s your birthday–it’ll be enjoyable for all of us.”

Standing just in your miniskirt in between the two men only made you grow hotter and wetter. The tension and cold air makes your nipples harden and by instinct you bring your arms to cover yourself–but Yeonjun is quick to grab them, shoving them behind your back.

“Just do what you're best at and take it, yeah?”

Taehyun steps out of the way as Yeonjun pushes you by your trapped wrists towards his bedroom. As soon as you enter, he shoves you, letting go of you in the process. You sit at the edge of the large bed clenching your thighs together, the wetness in between them is starting to become uncomfortable.

Yeonjun lets out a mocking laugh, “sitting so pretty for us, so cute how you know your place already. Giving me deja-vu right now, princess.”

He walks closer to you, standing directly in front of you, grabbing your chin and tilting it upwards at him. Yeonjun jerks his chin up, motioning for you to scoot back and you obey with zero hesitation, leaning back on your elbows towards the middle of the bed. He quickly runs his hands up your thighs, grabbing the band of your panties and yanking them off in one swift moment. 

“She’s so wet, Taehyun.” He runs a finger down your soaking slit. “You were thinking about this back at the club weren’t you?”

You whimper as his fingers tease your core, slowly trailing from your clit to your hole. 

“Answer him.” Taehyun speaks up from behind you. You feel the bed dip and a hand wrap around your throat, his thumb pushes your chin up, forcing you to stare up at him. “Did I stutter? Answer his question.” 

He releases your chin and you look back at Yeonjun, who continues to play with you, an amused look on his face.

“Y-yes. Since the club…” You buck into his fingers. “Just wanted you both–so badly.”

Yeonjun shoves a finger inside of you, quickly curling his fingers drawing a gasp out of you. He was clearly pleased with your reply.

“What a whore..” Taehyun replies, voice low. “Ignored us for almost a month but quickly crawled back to both of us for some attention.”

His hand remained on your throat as Yeonjun kept pumping his fingers inside of you, adding another to stretch you out perfectly for them. You whine and lean back into Taehyun.

“Must’ve missed us badly, huh? Cunts squeezing my fingers like crazy.”

You choke out a moan when Yeonjun’s fingers curl into your sweet spot with each thrust of his hand, he smirks and lays his thumb on your clit, pushing you closer to your release.

“Mmm–more, please!” You whine out. He presses his thumb harder into your clit, jerking it in circles while he continues to work his fingers inside of you. 

You bite your lip and gasp out loud as you cum onto his fingers, he continues these actions until you're shaking against Taehyun, who still has a firm grip on your throat–his other hand teasing your nipples.

Yeonjun pulls his fingers out of you, tapping your lips with them. “Suck.”

You let him shove his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself on him as you wrap around his digits. 

“So dirty.” Taehyun says, watching intently as you suck on Yeonjun's fingers desperately. “Turn around.”

Releasing Yeonjun's fingers, you slowly turn around, settling on your knees. Taehyun lifts himself off the bed, yanking his belt off and slowly unbuttoning his slacks. He lets go and motions for you to crawl to him. “Wanna keep putting that mouth to use?”

You nod, unzipping his pants and yanking them down along with his briefs just enough to release his hardened cock. He takes your head in his hands and moves you slightly as you pump him. Taehyun grabs your wrist and brings it to his own mouth and spits, wrapping your hand tightly around his cock. 

You continue to pump him before bringing your head down to take him in your mouth. Before you could do so, your hips are being lifted harshley and Yeonjun kneels behind you, grinding into your wetness with his own cock. 

“I didn’t tell you to stop.” Taehyun yanks your hair down to him. 

Yeonjun lets out a breathy laugh as he enters you, stretching you out so well as Taehyun pushes his cock into your mouth at the same time. 

You groan around him, slowly bobbing your head and wrapping your tongue around him. Yeonjun thrusts into you once more, finding his pace. The force of Yeonjun slamming into you has you throwing a hand against Taehyun's thigh, his hand in your hair stabilizing you even if it did hurt. 

Your whimpers send vibrations through Taehyun's cock, making him throw his head back in pleasure. Eventually, with the pace Yeonjun set, it becomes too much and Taehyun's left to fucking your mouth on his own.

“Can’t even put that useless–fuck! Mouth to work.” He groans, shoving your head down on his cock. Tears fall down your cheeks at the roughness of both men. “Have to fuck you like a bitch, huh?”

Yeonjun continues to pound into you, smacking your ass harshly as Taehyun degrades you. 

“She can’t have it any other way~.” Yeonjun calls out from behind you, letting out his own string of groans. 

Taehyun suddenly thrusts into your mouth, causing you to choke around his cock. He only lifts your head to repeat the act. “Gonna swallow like a good girl?”

You nod quickly and he thrusts a few times before releasing deep into you mouth, you quickly force yourself to swallow so you don't start choking. Taehyun slips out of your mouth and releases your hair, dropping your head straight into the mattress. 

Yeonjun take this advantage to fuck you more roughly, his hips slamming against your ass as he fucks you into the mattress. “Waited weeks for this–fuck, baby, taking me so well.”

“Mmm–cumming!” You practically scream against the comforter of his bed, “Please please please.”

Immediately, you’re regretting even speaking up because Yeonjun quickly pulls out, ripping away your second orgasm. You weakly lift yourself up, “W-why? Was so close..”

“Shut up,” He says as he flips you over, “Y’talk too much.”

He enters you once more with one swift thrust, sliding in out of your wetness at the same pace as before. “You should be more grateful, Y’know? Shouldn’t–ah.. even let you come at all.”

Your release quickly builds back up with the new angles Yeonjun thrusts into you at. Gripping his forearms, you whine something almost incoherent as you cum around his cock. He only continues his pace until his hips are stuttering.

Yeonjun quickly pulls out, pumping himself a few times before his warm seed is landing on your tits and stomach. 

You barely get a second to breathe before Taehyun is sitting you up from behind. You let him lift you, your naive mind thinking they were done with you, bringing your own hands to wipe at the cum covering your torso.

Yeonjun smacks your hands away, “looks better that way.”

Taehyun continues lifting you up until you're settled on your knees once more and Yeonjun shoots you a sly smile, tapping your cheeks with his fingers before spinning you to face Taehyun. 

You give him a confused look as he spreads your legs with his own, lining his cock up to your entrance. 

“You didn’t seriously think we were done, did you?” He asks with a low voice, grinding his tip over your sensitive bud. “Wanna act like a slut–you get fucked like one.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before sliding inside of your warmth, but he doesn’t move. Taehyun only sits still as if he was waiting on something–or someone.

Your eyes widen when you feel Yeonjun prodding at your entrance, “nngh–wait! Wont fit” 

You turn your head to face Yeonjun, who doesn’t pay attention to your cries. Taehyun roughly grabs your chin to face him again. 

“Don’t complain, you’ll take it.” 

“It won’t.. You guys are t-too big.” You whine out.

Yeonjun coo’s at you from behind, slowly sinking his cock into you. Hot tears fall down your cheeks at the stretch. “Awe ~. Too big, huh?”

“Don’t act like you don't know the words to make this all stop.” 

Yeonjun finally bottoms out inside of you, ripping a loud groan from your throat at the feeling of being stuffed full. Your head falls against Yeonjuns shoulder as Taehyun slowly starts to move. 

Your body jolts with each thrust delivered from both men inside of you. Nothing but moans and whimpers escape your lips–never feeling this full in your life. Yeonjun and Taehyun were practically splitting you in half with both of their cocks, and you’re sure they aren't holding themselves together any better right now. 

Taehyun hisses as he sets a pace for him and the man thrusting from behind, “s’fucking tight.”

You grip Taehyun's shoulder, an attempt to stabilize yourself because despite being sandwiched between the two–you still felt like you were going to fall over at any moment. You attempt to pull yourself to sit up straight, but two thrusts that were delivered was enough to knock you back into Yeonjun’s chest, who lets out a breathy laugh. 

“You like this? Being filled so good–,” Yeonjun growls into your ear, “letting us fuck you however we want?”

You whimper in response, grip tightening on Taehyun’s shoulders. 

“Can’t even respond,” Taehyun mutters, grabbing your cheeks roughly, “use your fucking words. Wanna hear it–tell us how good we’re fucking you.”

“Yesyesyes! S-so good, wanted this–fuck!” 

“C’mon, baby, it’s not that hard.”

“Wanted it for so long..! Both of you–ah. Like this.” Your words are just as pathetic as the moans you let out. “Please, fuck!”

The grip Taehyun has on your hips is bruising as he continues to thrust roughly into you, Yeonjun doing his best to keep up with his friends pent up aggression, despite his second release nearing. 

“Fuck–gonna cum.” Yeonjun pants. “Inside her.”

Taehyun slightly slows down as Yeonjun’s thrusts get sloppier. It’s not long before he’s stuttering and releasing inside of you, not wasting a second before pulling out to save himself from the overstimulation due to Taehyun's brutal pace. 

The man still inside of you groans loudly before taking the chance and pushing you down onto the bed, manhandling your legs over his shoulders sloppily and fucking you deep into the mattress. Taehyun lands a smack onto your thigh and moves his other hand to your clit, rubbing at it with his thumb. 

Your stomach bubbles up with the familiar heat and you cry out at the sensation. You try your hardest to alert the man of your orgasm, and you aren’t even sure if you could get the words out before clenching around him and cumming hard. 

Taehyun continues to fuck into you, chasing his own release. You plead and whine that it’s too much but he doesn’t slow down once. His hips start to stutter as he bends your legs into your body, sloppily thrusting as he nears his orgasm.

“Fuckkk–.” He groans out before releasing deep inside of you. Taehyun rocks his hips a few more times before slowly pulling out, dropping your legs and sitting back on his knees to catch his breath.

“Took it like a whore, didn’t you?” You hear Yeonjun ask you, mockingly of course. Too tired to respond, you only pant and nod your head, giving him the response he wants.

“Good girl.” He chuckles. “Just means you can take more.”

[taegimood]

— yeonjun overstimming himself to make you cum ♡ [one-shot]

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1k warnings: smut, overstimulation (m receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (m receiving), dirty talk, use of pet names (baby, good girl), tummy bulge, pussydrunk soft dom jun~

a/n - i’ve had this idea for a while now, lots of people seemed to like my other jun thought so here’s another one ♡ my inbox is open, send in requests for any member~!

──────────────────────

your legs tremble with every steady thrust to your cunt that yeonjun delivers, the room hot with moans and labored breaths.

the sight above you is heavenly; his dark hair hanging over his eyes, eyes that are boring into yours as he keeps his lips so tantalizingly close — so close, but just far enough to make you beg for it.

you whine as you chase him into a kiss. moaning into each other’s mouths as his skin slaps against yours, you squeeze your legs tighter around his waist and grip the toned arms that hold him up on either side of you as his pace begins to quicken. “baby..”

you can tell he’s close by the breathlessness in his voice and the way his eyes screw shut, lip tugging between his teeth to stop the moans that threaten to spill.

he’s fucking into you so deliciously. your back arches as the tip of his cock hits particularly deep; with a strangled gasp, your hips buck up into his and the way your pussy clenches around him has yeonjun seeing stars.

“baby, i’m- f-fuck, i’m gonna fill you up so good.” he groans. “such a good girl. pussy so good.. squeezing around me like that, fuck..” you can tell that he’s close. his thrusts grow sloppy, desperate, drilling into you as he chases his approaching high. you’re practically drooling, moans spilling from your parted lips as he hits so deep, so good —

before he can help it, his cum is spilling into you, stuttering thrusts slowing to a stop as he pants heavily; the silver chain around his neck is still swinging as he hovers over you, catching his breath. you whine desperately at the sudden loss of movement, your orgasm so close, now chased away —

as much as you want to cum on his cock, you’re at least happy to have his fingers and tongue to help you meet your high, always the doting boyfriend. but as yeonjun sits up onto his knees, what you don’t expect is for him to grip your hips, yanking you further down on his sensitive cock instead of slipping out of you like he usually would, your legs splayed open over his thighs as your hips lift slightly off the bed.

you both gasp in unison at the feeling. “j-jun-?!”

you’re already lifting yourself up onto your elbows, but yeonjun’s hands remain firm on your hips.

“still gotta make you cum, baby, don’t i? just relax for me,” he breathes. you drop back onto the pillow in surprise as a fresh wave of arousal crashes over you, your boyfriend’s sweaty chest still rising and falling in pants as his brows furrow at the over-sensitivity. “jjunie it’s okay, you can just—“

his first thrust takes the words right off of your tongue and somewhere far, far away, and this new angle has you gripping the sheets for dear life. “fuck,” you gasp out as he picks up the pace into a sharp rhythm, pulling your hips against his with firm slaps of skin on skin, his twitching, hardening cock drilling the deepest parts of you like it’s his job. you can’t stop the lewd moans now, wondering how you’re even able to make any sound at all when he’s fucking you this good.

“that’s it, baby, take it,” he grunts, his eyes glued to the bulge of his big cock in your tummy.

“you like it when i use myself to get you off, huh? you like it when i service you like this?” he chuckles, the filthy wet noises that your pussy is making growing even wetter at his words. “y-yes..” you whimper pathetically, unable to even say anything else.

“so fucked out on my cock, can’t even speak..” he murmurs breathlessly, and despite all his taunts, you can tell that he’s no better than you as his words grow increasingly less convincing and just as desperate-sounding as you feel.

he’s pounding into you so messily, one of his thumbs moving over your clit in quick circles, his lips parted and head lolled back as he releases a loud groan at the way you’re clenching around him so tightly. you can see the way his abdomen is tensing from the sheer overstimulation he’s giving himself in his determination to get you off and you nearly cum just at the thought of it.“jjunie, ‘m so.. so fucking close, p-please.. please..”

“that’s it, baby, fucking cum all over my cock, let go for me, fuck- good girl-“ he gasps out, his voice more of a high whine now than anything, his low dominating tone from before practically evaporating with each thrust. his thumb is moving rapidly over your clit, eyes screwed shut and hips twitching, the over-sensitivity stripping him of any thought other than getting the both of you to cum. “n-need it, jun, need it so bad-!” you’re rambling, gripping onto his hand that still holds your hip, shaking and squirming and desperately trying to buck your hips further into him. you can feel the chord about to snap when your eyes meet his, and just like that, your vision flashes white as your orgasm wracks over your entire body. you can feel yeonjun’s warm cum spurting into you again as he moans out filthily, both of you shaking and slick with sweat as he finally collapses on top of you in a daze.

neither of you speak as you both catch your breath, chests moving fervently against each other’s. yeonjun slumps fully into the crook of your neck.

“holy fuck,” he rasps.

“yeah. holy fuck, yeonjun.”

he lifts his head tiredly to give you a shit-eating grin. his hand moves to soothe up and down your waist; “my stamina is no joke, huh?” you roll your eyes but return his smile anyway, resting your arms around his shoulders as you pull him down into a kiss. “can’t believe you did that..” you mumble shyly. he nuzzles his face into your cheek, peppering it with kisses, and you giggle.

“gotta give my best for my baby.”

[miupow]

. . .꒰ PEEKING . ꒱

╰┈➤˗ˏˋ kai peeks in on his friend fucking his girlfriend-- little does he know, they're fully aware he's there.

PAIRING ── choi yeonjun x fem!reader x huening kai

GENRE ── pure smut, NSFW MDNI!

WARNINGS ── exhibitionism, semi-public sex, voyuerism, perv!kai, threesome mentions, vaginal sex, spanking, degradation + name calling, mean dom!yeonjun, hair pulling, breath play if you squint

WORDS ── 0.7k

A/N ── i’ve been in a huge writing slump recently despite all of my ideas and this took EMBARRASSINGLY long to write despite how short it is omg. will try to write a few more short drabbles to get inspo back before working on bigger wips :3 hope you enjoy~~

♡⠀⠀⠀ ⠀︵⠀ [ m. list ] ⭑ [ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ]

guilt and shame weighed heavy in kai’s chest, rotting away at his insides as he pressed his ear to the door, but he just couldn’t stop himself.

he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

the squeaking of a mattress, the dull thud of a headboard against the wall. the slapping of skin on skin, dripping wet and obscene. and moaning— your moaning, rattling around inside of his empty cotton head, so shrill and loud he can almost ignore the other voice moaning too. almost.

“fuck, you’re such a slut!” yeonjun hisses with a cruel laugh, barely audible over your cries of pleasure. “just couldn’t wait for my cock, huh? had to act like a brat ‘n get me to fuck you raw in kai’s bed? nasty girl.”

kai thinks, just for a second, that maybe he should be disgusted at one of his best friends fucking his girlfriend in his bedroom, just a short distance away from where kai and the other boys were watching a movie on the couch… but his cock strained hard against the fly of his jeans, his head swam with the sound, the thought of you. he’s wanted you forever, so close but so unobtainable held possessively in yeonjun’s arms— and there you were, just behind his bedroom door, getting fucked hard and sounding just as debauched and beautiful as he had dreamed you would time and time again.

yeonjun’s words make you whimper, staccato with his thrusts into your dripping pussy. you were so wet that kai could hear your sweet gummy walls squelch around yeonjun’s cock, so slick and loud ringing in his ears— “jjunie!” you gasped, so pretty and pathetic, “slow— slow down!”

both you and kai gasp when a harsh slap echos through the air, no doubt aimed for your pert little ass. the one that’s haunted kai for months now. “shut up, take what i give you,” yeonjun huffs, those wet smacking thrusts growing faster, harder. “be a good girl ‘n just take it, fuck. this is what you wanted, right? wanted me to fuck you where he’d hear?”

you moan, choke and gag around a broken “yes, yes!”, and kai stops cold. his breath grows ragged, and the little gap in the doorway laughs at him, mocks him.

it’s all a little too perfect. staged, even— though that may just be kai’s perfect excuse for why he inches closer, peeks into the bedroom with burning cheeks.

your face is buried in kai’s pillow, hands fisting his blankets as yeonjun plows into you from behind; kai admires the curve of your back, the spanked red globes of your asscheeks ass they jiggle with your boyfriend’s thrusts. yeonjun seems to admire them too, one of veiny hands kneading greedy handfuls as the other presses you into the bed by your neck. “fuck, fuck, you’re so tight, squeezing me so good—!” yeonjun whines, throwing his head back. “you ‘gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over kai’s bed, baby?”

kai’s breath hitches, his hands sweaty as they brace themselves against the doorframe, and the door creaks open just a little bit more. just enough for yeonjun to notice.

when his and kai’s eyes meet, yeonjun just grins, wild in a way that kai had never seen in his friend before. “he’s watching, baby, just like you wanted,” yeonjun coos, sickly sweet, “gonna watch you cum oh my cock.”

despite his hand still holding you down, you lift your head out of the pillows just enough to lock eyes with kai too. pretty tears rolled down your flushed cheeks, so wrecked and ruined, and kai finds himself moaning aloud when you reach out for him with shaking fingers, whimper his name like a prayer.

this is what you wanted, what you planned. Kai’s too shocked to move, to say anything as yeonjun snickers at his dumbfounded, blushing face. he’s still fucking you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge as you cry out for release.

“she wants you,” he laughs, releasing your throat to grab a fistful of your hair, tug you up to his chest. “we both know how bad you want her— won’t you help her? make her cum? her jjunie’s being mean to her, won’t play with her pussy right… look, she’s even begging.”

he whispers into your ear something that sounds an awful lot like “beg, whore.” kai gulps, so hard it’s almost painful… the pain reminds him that this is real, that this isn’t just another one of his embarrassing wet dreams.

“kai, hyuka, please—“ you hiccup so pitifully, perky breasts bouncing as yeonjun continues to buck up into your wet cunt, and kai just can’t help but give in.

he can’t even find it in himself to feel guilty anymore.

[boba-beom]

trapped in your game | CHOI YEONJUN NSFW

pairing: bestfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader | genre: oneshot; fluff, smut. best friends to ?? | wc: 1.6 k | warnings: hair tugging, a lot of praises, pet names (, baby, princess, sweetheart, cutie), bsf!yeonjun's just so sweet :(( , physical affection, oral (m receiving), yj a lil rough with it, cum swallowing, smut with plot, not proof read, lmk if I've missed any. | a/n: so I wanna thank @junniieesbby for elongating this idea with me hehe, testing waters out since it's been a while but enjoy <3 this is my comeback guys >:) it's also 5am, so I'm sorry HAHAHA

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

continue under the cut ❤︎

no matter how many times you turn around and rant to your best friend, yeonjun, he's there laying on your bed with his upper body hanging off of the edge and his phone in his hands.

“yeonjun…” you whine, pouting as you ask him, “were you even listening?” you exaggerate a deep huff of disappointment and that catches his attention.

rushing to turn his phone off and throwing it somewhere on your bed amongst your plushies, he lays on his front and reaches his arm out to caress the top of your head.

“okay, okay. I’m listening, what were you saying?” he tilts his head slightly and he mirrors your pout.

“I was saying, I think I’m linking up with this guy next week but I don’t… um...” you trail off, lightly chewing on your bottom lip thinking if you sound dumb worrying about this.

“but you don’t what? you know you can tell me, right?” he’s still caressing the top of your head ever so gently. yeonjun tends to have that aura about him. and it’s been like that for years. it’s not that you were embarrassed to tell him, he never belittles you about these things, or anything in general, but you also didn’t want him to think you were being silly about this.

“I don’t know if I’m good enough at giving head, jjun.” your light whine switched him up in some way.

you always wondered if he’s ever thought of you like that, and the answer is yes. but he knows his priorities as your best friend is that he’s always there for you no matter what. helping you in whatever it is. even when it comes to this.

“but you’ve given head before though?” he sits up, his feet now flat on the ground by your knees. you nod subtly, watching the way the little bulb lights up above his head.

“hmm..” he exaggerates a thinking face, bottom lip protruding before the corners of his lips turn upwards. “show me what you’ve got.”

you know how to kiss. that’s because yeonjun taught you. you know how to turn guys on. that’s because yeonjun taught you. but you’ve managed to give head and have your previous partners and flings come from that, and yeonjun hadn’t taught you. what if he teaches you now? will that make you better at doing it?

“yn? sweetheart, what’s going on in that cute 'lil head of yours?” he leans forward to grab ahold of your hand, which surprisingly lays limp in his palms. “I’ll talk you through it if you want.”

“I can try-“

he shakes his head, cupping the side of your face and his thumb stroking your cheek and slowly lowering to glide across your bottom lip. “Give me your all, c’mon.”

“thanks jjun.” you shoot up an innocent smile, the one that makes his knees weak even when he's sitting down.

you shuffle onto your knees, situating yourself between yeonjun's thighs while your fingers began to skim over the material of his sweatpants. yeonjun, on the other hand, was anticipating the act, leaning back on his elbows to observing you from that angle. he knows how good you are and how good you can be, of course he does because he's taught you these things.

as you watch your best friend look back at you with his sultry eyes, you catch the way he bites down on his bottom lip as your fingers trail closer towards his half hard dick.

"oh, so this is how you tease your flings huh?" his voice was lower than usual, but nothing you've never heard before.

"just find it a little fun when they squirm. you're good at not doing that though jjunie." you finally apply pressure onto his growing dick, stroking him through his sweats and picking up the pace until you see him fighting to throw his head back, but resorting to heavy, shaky breaths.

a hum leaves your mouth when you see yeonjun get harder under your touch, but it doesn't take much longer until you're hooking your fingers under the band of both his sweats and boxers.

your chest heaves a little, it's not the first time you've seen yeonjun's dick, the last time being when you caught him masturbating in his room with his door unlocked and he was wearing headphones. but he had a pretty dick for sure. his girth was a good size, the length wasn't too intimidating but deep inside you were excited. the head had already started to leak clear droplets, veins just beginning to raise to the surface as you wrap your soft hand around his shaft by the base.

he hisses from the pressure you apply, letting out his sigh that he had been holding in for a hot second. you're in awe, never had you touched yeonjun like this before, but to see him react this way just from your simple touches were starting to affect the dampness between your thighs.

"yeonjun, you know, you have a pretty dick." you tell him sweetly.

"thank you kitten— oh my god." he doesn't hold back the small moan in his throat after you had just licked him from the base to the tip with your lips lighting sucking on the head, letting the salty droplets spread across your tongue.

you smile at him once again, observing the way his mouth slacks open and how his pretty, pillowy lips are the same colour as his soft tip. that's something you'll unintentionally engrave in your brain for every time you glance at his lips.

"so.. so.. pretty.." you kiss around his shaft randomly betwen your words, and he responds with his hand in your hair, and lightly tugging it.

"get to it cutie, I wanna know how good you are." he loosens his grip, letting you take more of him into your mouth until he's almost prodding the back of your throat and pulling him out again.

a guttural groan leaves his throat as you repeat the same action a couple more times before you gag from how far in you're taking him. you're usually pretty good at not gagging, even using the squeezing-your-thumb-extremely-tight trick to prevent that, but it still happened.

"hey, hey." yeonjun sat up in urgency, but mentally kicking himself for twitching from the fact tears started to well up. "I'm sure you wanna do good for him, right? now breathe through your nose, your throat's gonna be occupied."

you nod, really listening to his words and you do exactly what he tells you. taking in a couple of deep and steady breaths you wrap your mouth around him again, bobbing your head and inching further until he hits the back of your throat without you gagging.

"oh shit," he gasps, "just like that, princess, just like that."

both of his hands make their way to your hair, gathering them as best as he could into a makeshift ponytail. the suction you have going on was starting to make him feel light headed, twitching in your hold. he couldn't refrain, but you were doing too good. with your hair now in a tight ponytail in one fist, he pushes your head down more until he hears you gag.

an airy chuckle leaves his lips as he moans out your name and other profanities, boosting your ego to keep going. you know he's close when you watch his lower abdomen starting to twitch from under his black hoodie.

"keep going baby, I'm so close. god, you're so good." his heaven sent whines were shooting straight to your core, and you just knew your panties were soaked through from the discomfort against your core.

you let out a strong hum whilst continuing to bob your head, moving your wrist to push him over the edge. your other hand caresses his thigh while his hand is wrapped around your wrist. tight. a few more delicious moans leave your best friends mouth, throwing his head back as he bucks his hips up, close to chasing his high.

"yn, ugh, baby I'm gonna- I'm gonna cum." his hold around your wrist tightens as the band in his stomach snaps, feeling the way his cock twitches against your tongue.

you suck on his tip, swirling your wet muscle around it a few times until you taste his cum on your tongue. you let out a surprised moan from the way his load was shooting into your mouth, some even beginning to trickle down the back of your throat.

"ah shit, yn." he chuckles with a hand lazily covering his face. "you're so hot, what the fuck."

you giggle as you lean back on your knees, looking up at him and opening your mouth to show him his load under and around your tongue.

"filthy too, good god." he collects the cum threatening to drip from the corners of your lips as he waits for you to swallow it all and lick the rest from his thumb.

"so was that alright?" you lean your arms across his knees and rest your chin on the back of your hands.

"alright? you did so good baby." he caresses your head again, noticing the way you're refraining from smiling so hard.

"jjun?" you ask, almost a whisper. your fingers tracing invisible shapes across his thighs. he responds with a light hum. "I kind of don't want to see that guy anymore."

"what are you saying?" yeonjun raises an intriguing brow.

"I kinda just want you." there it is again, that precious smile that yeonjun loves to see.

again, he reaches out for you and leads you onto his lap, hovering you over his spent dick. your hands rest on his shoulders, stabilising yourself as he brings his middle and ring finger to stroke up against your clothed slit and rubbing light circles on your clit.

"well, I'm all yours."

taglist: @ahnneyong @prodsh00ky @wccycc @lizdevorak @fairybin @laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @ttyunz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @vatterie @hyuntaena @ja4hyvn @yunkiwii @aprilisque @bb-eilish @ericyjun @bluejin0812 @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi and bc I thought you guys would like this hehe @lovejoshua @robin-obsessed @kookthief @choistick @baljinciaga @hanniejie

[banggyu0308]

definitely want a cheerleader x sub!gyu smut, like hes this nerdy boy with the biggest crush on her. tries confessing, but mc is known to reject confessions, so, he gets rejected. but hes cute so mc's like, "i mean, i can give you a quick bj if you want" absolutely freaks out, cant even get a word in before his crush is down kneeling in front of him 😩

just want the boy absolutely fucked out just by some slight tongue on his tip 😂

Like // Choi Beomgyu

sub!nerd!beomgyu x dom!cheerleader!reader

Summary: it’s obviously going to go badly when Beomgyu confesses to you, someone who’s popular, attractive, and worst of all, known to reject confessions. 

But that’s not going to stop him, is it?

genre: college au, smut

Warnings: oral sex (m receiving), ngl it’s kinda public, reader calls him ‘Gyu’ and ‘Beomie’, dacryphilia (yes, again. I like the idea of a boy crying for me :shrug:) , beomgyu talks about himself in third person in a cute way , virgin shaming (kinda) , unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!) , lots of subby Gyu, non established relationship , not proofread 

Word count: 2.5k

Beomgyu sits in the bleachers, watching you and the other people on the cheerleading team do your performance at halftime of the football game.

He can’t help but marvel at the way your cheer leotard and skirt fit your body perfectly, how you perform the choreography with ease.

It’s obvious someone like you would never go for someone like him. You’re… you, confident, pretty, popular, and he’s the kid on the side who spends more of his time indoors with his nose in a book than socializing. He’s not even sure you know he exists.

It’s not like he doesn’t have friends. His friend group consists of four other boys he’s been friends with since they were in first grade. Some of them, like Yeonjun and Taehyun, were more popular than the others and it was a little awkward at times, but they stuck together and it didn’t seem like that would change any time soon.

In fact, the one time Beomgyu spoke to you, it was actually Yeonjun’s doing.

Yeonjun knew how Beomgyu liked you, and so he dragged him to his football meet just because he knew you’d be practicing there too.

And then Beomgyu was coming out of the boys‘ locker room, opposite to the girls, cause he just felt like taking a shower. And there you are, heading around the corner to the girls’ right as he comes out.

And Beomgyu knocks into you and you almost fall, but instead of being all prissy and annoyed about it, you smile at him, wink, and say, “watch where you’re going, Gyu,” like not only you know his name, but like you’re close enough to have a nickname for him.

And that, my friends, is why half the school is in love with Y/N L/N.

And so, Beomgyu isn’t going to lie, the only reason he’s at the game is because he’s decided to confess. Because, his logic is that if you knew his name and called him by a nickname, that has to mean that you’re paying attention to him. And if you’re paying attention to him and he’s not in any of your friend circles, then that means you must like him.

It’s foolproof!! He’s gone through it multiple times, and it just all makes sense.

And this is why he finds himself waiting for you after you come out of the locker room.

You’re one of the only girls who even use it, the rest preferring to shower at their houses. And this is lucky for him, because he doesn’t want to do this in front of anyone else.

Mainly because, in the small possibility you reject him, as you are famous of doing, he doesn’t want others to witness it.

So here he is, waiting with a flower in his hand, and there you are, looking effortlessly beautiful coming out of the locker room, your hair wet from your shower.

“Hey, Y/N?” He calls, grabbing your attention.

You pause, startled, and turn to look at him. “Yeah?”

Beomgyu fidgets slightly, suddenly embarrassed, then holds out the flower for you to take. “For you.”

You smile, taking it in your hands. “Thank you, Beomgyu,” you reply, smiling up at him, this adorable boy who’s so obviously nervous.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome… you were really good today,” he adds when you two grow quiet.

You laugh. “I don’t know about that, but thank you for the compliment.”

“Oh no, really, you were. Good, I mean. More than good! Amazing! You’re always amazing, which is why…” He’s a stuttering mess by now, cheeks flushed pink, hand on the nape of his neck. 

You look at him expectantly, waiting for his next words. “Why…?” You prompt.

“Why… why i like you.” Your eyes grow wide, and he continues quickly. “You’re so smart, and kind, and talented, and, and beautiful, and I just wanted to let you know in case you would ever want to be with, well, someone like me…” he trails off, looking at you from under those long lashes that flutter perfectly against his cheeks when he blinks.

“Oh- oh, I…” you don’t know what to say, flustered by his confession, and you know you’re going to break the heart of this sweet little boy in front of you, looking at you so innocently, so eagerly waiting for your response. 

“Oh, Gyu…” It’s never easy, this. Hurting people just because of your personal worries. “Gyu, I’m really sorry, but I, I really can’t…”

You can see the moment his heart cracks, and you rush to say something else, hand on his forearm. “Trust me, it’s not you. It’s not you at all. In fact…” No, no, too personal. Saying something like that isn’t going to help fix anything.

And he’s so, so cute, too, and before you know what you’re even saying, the words come out of your mouth. “I could give you a blowjob though, if you want?”

Embarrassment flashes across his face, along with shock and a million other emotions, and how is he supposed to resist? Beomgyu can only nod slightly, his cheeks a bright pink, and that’s all the answer you need.

“Do you think the girls lockers or the boys are less crowded?”

He’s internally freaking out and can’t even stutter a response, which doesn’t matter because you answer yourself.

“Girls, of course. No one goes in there except me. I’ve gotten off in those showers more than once, actually.”

And now you’re dragging him into the locker room by his hand, heading to the shower, and you turn on the first faucet, moving to the other side so you don’t get wet.

Still in your tiny cheerleader outfit, you’re on your knees in front of him, and Beomgyu is trying to calm his breathing, because his crush (who just rejected him) is about to suck him off in the shower of the fucking girls locker room.

And he has to say something.

“Y/N, I- I…” You look at him from your position, and he has to look away, swallowing thickly, because why in hell do you have to look so sexy like that, looking at him from between his legs? “I’ve never done this, no ones ever…touched me?”

You giggle, unbuckling his belt and then moving to unbutton his shirt. “You’re telling me little Beomie has never been jerked off before?”

He shakes his head no, cheeks still pink, and you smirk, the exposed skin of his torso catching your eye again. “Are you okay if I kiss you? I mean, just to spice things up?”

He nods, because who wouldn’t say no to their crush kissing them?

And just like that, your lips are pressed against his, eyes shut, lips parted against his and your tongues dancing together. For being a virgin, he’s a surprisingly good kisser.

Your lips leave him breathless and a little more stimulated than it should have, but you don’t care, leaving marks all over his pretty neck and collarbones, your teeth nipping his skin. 

Beomgyu can’t help the moans that leave him,  a little whimper joining them when your lips dip down to his pants’ waistband.

“Want me to keep going, Gyu?” You tease, because like hell you know he wants you to.

He nods quickly, eyes shut and back pressed flush against the shower wall, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead.

You smirk and tug off his pants, running a hand over his clothed dick.

A little whine leaves his lips at your touch, and you can tell his legs are struggling to hold him up, trembling at the slightest of touches.

“Please, please, please, keep going?” He begs, hands slipping on the shower wall, trying to grab on.

Another whimper leaves his lips when you finally pull down his boxers, and you bite your lip, because god, he looks so delicious right now, and you want your tongue on him as quickly as possible.

Your fingers wrap around his dick, coaxing an echoey moan from him, your name slipping past his lips. His legs shake, and he’s flushed pink, his tip leaking. You gently, with the tip of your tongue, lick off the precum beading up, and the reaction he gives you is priceless, loud whimpers all you can hear.

“Oh, you taste so good, Beomie..~” you coo, then lick up the side of his dick, then over his tip again, applying enough pressure that when you look at him, his head is leaned back, neck with your marks exposed, and there are little tears running down his cheeks.

“Is Gyu crying?” You tease, simply kitty licking his tip again. “Is this too much for him?”

“No, no, not too much, ‘s perfect, ‘s perfect…” he whispers, his breath shaking.

“Not too much for who?” You ask, repeating your movement.

“For Gyu, for Gyu!” He gasps, giving you the words you want, his hips moving forward slightly, causing him to slide between your lips.

This only makes him cry out louder, limbs quivering, and you can feel him twitch in your mouth. 

“Is Gyu gonna cum?” The question sounds so innocent, but you’re stroking his thigh with one hand and jerking him off with the other, your tongue on his tip. It’s anything but.

Beomgyu nods sharply, quick repetitive nods that make his hair fall into his eyes, his lips parted in pleasure. “Yes, gonna cum, gonna, please, please, can he?”

You smirk at his pleas, but he’s being good and asking, so all you say is, “alright, little virgin Gyu can cum~”

Both Beomgyu’s breathing and hips stutter, lips parted in a silent moan when he cums, his seed leaking down your chin. You swallow it all up, then stand, peering at him curiously.

He fidgets under your gaze and you smirk, hands tracing the line of his slender shoulders. “Hey Gyu?”

“Yeah…?” He whispers, still breathless, his eyes on yours.

“I want you to fuck me,” you state blatantly, eyes searching his, the taste of him still present on your tongue.

His eyes grow wide, lips trembling slightly as he tries to form the words he wants to say, and once again he just nods in agreement. 

You don’t know what urged you to say that, but soon enough you realize: the boy is so fucked out from your tongue, you can only imagine how he’ll get once he’s inside you. 

The steam of the shower has your clothes sticking to your skin and you peel them off, smirking at how Beomgyu’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows. You tug down your panties, beckoning him to your side, and pull him in to kiss him again. You’re under the water by now, the two of you slick, your hands tangled in his wet hair. 

“Please,” you inhale when you break the kiss, kissing him again immediately, and he gets the memo, tentatively hooking an arm under your knee and drawing your leg up.

His tip prods against your entrance almost immediately and you both suck in sharp breaths, his face buried in your neck. “Is this it?” He mumbles, the sound of his voice muffled by your skin. His hips buck forward on their own, a little twitch, but it’s enough for him to sink his tip in, stretching your entrance perfectly.

You can feel his mouth opening and closing silently, his breath shuddering, the way his eyelashes flutter tickling your neck. “Keep going, Beomie, I can take it.” You whisper, playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

Beomgyu thrusts forward again, sinking in halfway, and you feel as his his breathing falters all together, his one arm tightening around your waist, fingers pressing bruises into your skin.

One last thrust, and he’s in entirely, his tip pressed perfectly against your g-spot. Your own breath hitches and a small moan leaves you simultaneous with a whimper from him.

“Can’t, gonna, please!” He gasps, rutting into you again, pressing closer and closer to your cervix, the pressure in your lower stomach building when his fingers press against your clit.

“Gonna what, Beomie?” You tease, trying to sound cocky, but your voice turns too breathy, a squeaky gasp leaving you.

“Gonna, cum, please, ‘m gonna cum…” Beomgyu’s hips move again, small little jolts that send the pleasure on rampage down your skin.

“Who’s gonna cum?” You tease, the power that comes from him talking about himself like that running through your brain and making you want to ruin him.

“Gyu is, Gyu is, gonna…” he can’t even finish his sentence, too far gone, hips stuttering as he cums inside you suddenly, the fingers against your clit quickening in desperation to get you to your own pleasure.

You were already reaching it, the sensation of his fingertips, slightly calloused, tipping you into the deep end of the pool, drowning you as you tremble, gripping him hard, his name leaving your lips over and over again.

Your walls clenching around his dick makes him whimper slightly, cumming again without warning, the twitch of his hips fucking his cum deeper into you. 

He lets go of your leg and you collapse against each other, your weight pinning him against the shower wall. Beomgyu’s chest is heaving against yours, both of you fully bare and shaking slightly, his hand still gripping your hips. 

You raise his chin with your fingers, his eyelashes casting shadows on his flushed cheeks, because god, he still can’t believe you’re fucking him. “Gyu?” You hum, smiling slightly at him.

He raises his eyebrows, a small “hm?” leaving him in a response.

“You’re cute when you talk in third person,” you giggle, backing up from him with a smirk and pulling on the fresh clothes you had in your backpack.

You scribble something down on a piece of paper and hand it to him when he follows you out of the shower in a dazed state. “My number. Call me?”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, of course,” he blushes, stuttering slightly, trying not to crinkle the paper in his fist of excitement.

You smirk, then leave the locker room, Beomgyu trailing behind you. Two guys in your class raise an eyebrow at your wet and disheveled hair, and well, the fact that Beomgyu was in the girls locker room.

“Did you guys fuck in there?” The talker of the two asks, smirking at you and obviously eyeing your torso, exposed by your crop top.

You shrug like it’s not big deal. “Yeah. So?”

The other raises an eyebrow. “Was he good?” As if ‘he’ wasn’t right there, listening.

You smile, a teasing look in your eyes. “He was, but if you define “good” as “fucked my brains out” you should ask him about me instead.”

And at that, you stride away, smiling to yourself.

You look behind once, to survey Beomgyu’s reaction, and he smiles cutely at you, coaxing one of your own in response.

You tamp down the feeling in your chest, because you are not falling for this boy. No you are not.

At least, not harder than you already had, even before today.

A/N- TWIST ENDING??

I went a little overboard haha-

[agustdiv1ne]

ticket to nowhere (but your heart) (m) — cyj

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: strangers to lovers au, photographer!yeonjun, artist!reader, fluff, angst, smսt

wc: 22.3k

synopsis: twelve days. twelve days is all you have on this godforsaken train to find the spark that will save your dying art career — but you never thought that you would find it in the enigmatic stranger that you can’t seem to stop running into.

warnings: mdni!! ageless + blank blogs dni!!!, mc is bad with feelings, is alluded to have anxiety, and is written as shorter than jjun (i'm sorry to my taller friends, i love you) + the same age as him (24), this takes place in various places across the u.s. (sorry in advance), mentions of food + alcohol, vvvvv brief depiction of potential self-injury when describing a painting, beomgyu + le sserafim's sakura, chaewon, and yunjin (called jennifer here just bc i felt like it) are featured, dom!jjun, sub!mc, soft sex, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), light begging, multiple orgasms, protected sex (hooray!), missionary, praise

note: part of @majestyjun's yeonjun bday event!! REPOSTED bc tumblr decided to not let this show up in the tags (edit: it's now showing up!!) </3 also my longest fic to date, so that's something

*:･playlist･:*

(cross-posted to ao3 here!)

masterlist

everything in your life is bland. gray.

the food that you eat, the people that you become acquainted with, the skyscrapers above you that grasp for the sky and fail to reach it — they have all become so monotone and somber and utterly lifeless. something within you gnaws at itself, aching with pain — though the sharpness of the feeling has been blunted by the passing of time — because you used to adore the city that you call home. you used to find unrivaled beauty in the skyscrapers that spread across manhattan, in the lush green parks scattered amongst the urban landscape that would turn warm and golden as summer metamorphosed into autumn, in the people that would walk by you with their unapologetic, unique fashion and confidence. the very things you used to love have dulled in hue, washes of the vibrancy you once appreciated and took significant inspiration from. 

throughout your apartment lay half-baked paintings and charcoal drawings and pieces with odd compositions from that one month where you went through a mixed media phase, staring at you with their paint-streaked eyes, mocking you. finish us, their fragmentary faces scream. they beg for you to provide them with souls, to be their maker, their creator — but not quite their god. you are not pretentious enough to go that far, to paint yourself as that self-important, that narcissistic. you are far from a god. if you were, you would be in a larger apartment, a penthouse worth millions of dollars in soho or maybe the upper east side. if you were a god, you would purchase the finest art supplies in the world, have your pieces be displayed in major galleries to be auctioned off for hundreds of thousands — no, millions of dollars by pretentious art collectors to be hung up in their gaudy mansions, their own slices of heaven. however, in reality, you fall exceptionally short of a higher being; in truth, you are a rather simple woman who had transplanted herself from her suffocating hometown to brooklyn as soon as you completed your undergraduate degree. a tiny little apartment in brooklyn, new york city, new york — an adumbration of purgatory, floating somewhere between heaven and hell. trapped, trapped, trapped. nowhere to go. 

sitting on your bed, the balls of your feet pressed against the cool wooden floor, you ponder if these thoughts, this density of emotions burrowing into your stomach, are a symptom of burnout. maybe even artist’s block, though in the past you’ve often remarked that the concept doesn’t exist. you had never experienced it, so in your sorely narrow-minded view, it simply couldn’t be possible, and other artists were simply blaming their laziness on this elusive concept. what a fool you were for ever thinking that. shame hangs like a heavy weight within your chest; who are you to criticize the experiences of other artists when you know how difficult a creative’s life can be? how could you be so insolent? 

a raging hypocrite, really, is what you think you must be. a blank, blurry stare scans over your space, the coolness of the floor spreading up into your toes. an easel in the corner, near one of the small windows that allows for a view of mostly red brick, a sliver of blue-brown water where the hudson and east rivers meet, and a few lower manhattan skyscrapers that tower high in the air across the watery expanse. it’s not that far from your bed, which sits on the wall opposite below a second window, the slightest bit larger than the other one. most of your apartment is taken up by supplies rather than actual decor, a jar of paintbrushes on your small, round dining table in the corner near your kitchen instead of a vase of flowers, works-in-progress on the walls rather than posters, pictures. 

you live and breathe art, and your entire apartment reflects that, but the oxygen is getting thinner and thinner.

even then, you’re not quite sure how long you have felt this way — it’s not as if you woke up one day and noticed the change. it wasn’t sudden like a car accident, slamming into you one second and leaving you to cope with the aftermath the next. quite the opposite, really, more akin to the tide slowly coming to shore, washing over more of your body with each incoming wave. soothing, flowing along with each ebb and flow, pulling you further and further away from the beach until you have nowhere else to go but down. 

weak fingers dig into the white comforter below you, curling into the fabric with a surging desperation — for what, you are unsure. comfort? someone to hold you? you haven’t felt the embrace of another, the warm sensation of lips pressed against your own, in an embarrassingly long time. the dating world had slipped from your hands long ago, shattering on the floor like a snow globe, your wants and hopes and desires to love and be loved soaking your lacerated feet and stinging as it enters your wounds. your mind trails to beomgyu, a fellow artist who you had met when you could afford a private studio in a warehouse one burrow over. he was fun, a sappy romantic, and he made you laugh to no end — but he ruined you. he moved across the country without warning and you’d never heard from him again, leaving you heartbroken and with questions you’d never get answers to. you wonder how he’s doing now, if san francisco is treating him well. his number is still in your phone. you should delete it. you need to delete it. you need to make dinner. you need to finish that commission. you need to do a lot of things.

you need to get out of here. 

fuck, you do. the desperation surging within your veins takes the new form of a beast, clawing its way up your throat. you need to leave the city and experience new places and see new things and—

finally, you wrench yourself off of your bed after hours of sitting there. snatching your laptop from the floor, you search. you search and search and search for something that will get you out of this city, albeit temporarily. several different trips to italy — too expensive, and too far away from here. an airbnb in florida — you’ve never been a fan of humidity, and you don’t think only seeing one city will be enough to sate you. come on, come on, there has to be something. 

and then you find it: twelve days on a train, across the country. stops in chicago, denver, san francisco, seattle, and even a national park for half a day before looping back through chicago and back to new york. this sounds…perfect. your eyes grow as wide as saucers at the price as you scroll down. for you, it’s expensive, so fucking expensive, but…

“you need to let go and enjoy life for once,” one of your friends told you at a party a few months ago, when you were experiencing a less incapacitating version of the burnout you currently face, when you had thought it was a mere blip in your unending motivation. of course, you hadn’t listened to jennifer and her sound (and moscato-induced) advice, opting to throw yourself further into your art and ultimately fail at creating anything worthwhile. you regret it now, because you feel stuck. terribly, utterly stuck — but this is your chance to change that. 

you need this; you can make the sacrifice to your already thinning bank account, you think. let go, enjoy life. let go, enjoy life — you repeat those four words over and over again as you type in your card information, as you click the button to book the trip, as you read over the confirmation email that outlines the steps you need to take before you leave. let go, enjoy life, and you will. you will, and you will relight that dimming, nearly extinguished fire within you while you’re at it. you’ll make damn sure of it. 

day one. 

your heart is pounding. the rapid ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump roars in your ears like thunder as people upon people walk past, shoving against both of your shoulders as you stand in front of a board full of green and yellow and red. the sounds of voices and rolling luggage echo across the high, transparent ceilings of the station which allow for a view of the sky above. early mornings and you do not agree with each other, and today is no exception; poorly-veiled dark circles sit beneath your eyes, illuminated by the soft, warm light streaming in from above. looking down at your phone and back up at the screen again, you find that your train is thankfully on time, the bright green letters helping loosen the tightness gathered in your shoulders as you roll them back once, twice. your teeth skirt your bottom lip while you nod to yourself, then scan the spacious building for the escalator that will take you down to the correct platform. 

you hate that you’re nervous. the feeling twists your stomach into knots and flushes your face, cheeks hot as you stand there and wait out the remaining minutes before you can board. it doesn’t even make sense — you should be happy to get out of town, to go places you’ve never been to before, but all you can focus on is the unease creeping up your throat and blooming sour on your tongue. perhaps this is actually excitement that you are feeling. maybe you’re reading it all wrong — jennifer was more than ecstatic when you told her of your impromptu trip, saying “this is what you need! this might be your breakthrough!” 

ever since you met the her, she was always a degree more optimistic than you. looking on the bright side of things, no matter what dire circumstances lay splayed out across the dealer’s table. what’s stopping you from being the same way? several things, but at the same time, jennifer is right: you need this. your hands jitter with an odd combination of excitement and fear — maybe it’s simply the thought of solo travel that is so intimidating. yeah, it has to be. it will pass soon enough — hopefully. you roughly shove your set of headphones onto your head, slipping them over your ears. music will have to do for now, if only to prevent thoughts from racing through your head. 

once you board, you learn that your quarters are…small, though that was expected. it reminds you of your studio apartment, almost; cramped, but lacking the scattered paint tubes and canvases and miscellaneous mediums that you have not laid a single finger upon in months now. the small, travel-size tubes of paint sitting in your backpack weigh your shoulders down, begging to be taken out and spread across the small, flat canvases that are tucked snugly beside them. you muffle their pleas by turning up the music streaming through your headphones. closing the door behind you, you softly hum to the current song in your ears, shoving your suitcase in the corner of the room. 

once the attendant checks your ticket, you decide to take a nap — who cares if it’s early? you barely got enough sleep last night in the first place, too nervous to allow your eyes to shut. collapsing onto your bed, you pull the curtains next to it shut and allow yourself to drift off into a quiet, dreamless sleep.

*:･

you awake around noon with a growling stomach. with a sigh, you rub your tired eyes and sit up, smoothing out your rumpled shirt. after a quick look on your camera to make sure none of your mascara has transferred below your eyes, you make your way to the dining car that’s not too far from your own.

it’s nice, quaint; simply decorated like the rest, with large, square windows divided by thin pieces of wood lining each side. smaller tables line the wall to your right, two seats at each, while larger, four-person tables sit to your left. you opt for a two-seater towards the middle, tunnel vision blocking out the rest of the people present. you stare out at the greenery that blurs outside the window, listening to the low rumble of the train, mindlessly thumbing the laminated menu laying on the table. while you wait for the waitress to get to your table, a light, feminine voice knocks you from your own little world.

“excuse me?” the voice asks. you flinch in response, blinking hard as you look to your left and find two women sitting at the four-seater next to you. they’re both pretty, brown-eyed with full lips curved into twin smiles. they don’t look like sisters, though — more so friends. 

“yes?” you politely say, wondering what they could want with you. the shorter-haired one’s smile grows wider once you speak. she has a rounder face than the other girl, her black bangs ending above her eyes that are currently crinkled at the corners. 

“are you waiting for anyone?” the other girl asks, the one with a long wolfcut and wide, hypnotizing eyes. definitely not sisters, you think, they look nothing alike. 

shaking your head, you softly murmur, “i’m not.”

“would you like to join us, then?” the wide-eyed one asks, a hopeful glint shining in her eyes. 

“i...i wouldn’t want to intrude,” you reply. your mouth curls into something apologetic, as if you’re the one burdening them despite them being the ones to ask you. this interaction feels weird, awkward, and a very large part of you wishes you could melt through the floor and disappear forever. 

“you wouldn’t!” straight black bob chimes in, hands clasped together on top of the table as she leans towards you. cheery, excitable. “we wouldn’t mind at all, really.”

you nod with a tiny, somewhat nervous grin as you take the seat closest to you, right next to wide-eyed wolfcut. you offer them your name, unsure what else to give them. your age? your profession? your deep-seated trauma? okay, definitely not that last one. 

“it’s nice to meet you,” straight black bob says, while the other chimes in with a soft hum of affirmation. “i’m chaewon.”

“and i’m sakura,” wolfcut adds with a dip of her chin.

hands placed snugly in your lap, you pick at your thumb nail. your back is stiff in the chair, and you hope they won’t notice. “it’s nice to meet you guys too. are you traveling together?” 

both of them giggle, glancing at each other for a moment before swiveling their eyes back to you. for a moment, you’re confused. why was that so funny? they look to be decent friends, at least from your limited interactions with them thus far.

“we actually just met a few minutes ago,” wolfcut — no, sakura claims. oh, so they’re not friends, then. “we ran into each other— like, quite literally ran into each other.”

“it was…kinda bad,” chaewon laughs before she takes a sip of water. “my ass is still sore.”

you huff a laugh at that, all air and no sound, and the conversation continues with a light-hearted air to it. as the minutes tick by, you learn that chaewon is a graduate student taking a gap semester, while sakura owns her own makeup line, a small business that is beginning to pick up speed thanks to social media. one lives in brooklyn—

“no way,” you gasp at chaewon. “where at?” 

sakura, meanwhile, resides in upper manhattan. even more information about them bombards your brain as all of you begin to eat, but you doubt you’ll remember most of it by tomorrow, even later today — it’s alright, though. the three of you have exchanged numbers (to create a group chat) and have basically promised to be travel buddies for the coming days. your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard, grateful to find kind, welcoming people on this train — you’d think that jennifer would like them. the way they interact with each other is somewhat reminiscent of your and jennifer’s friendship. friends…yeah, you can see the three of you becoming good friends. 

“can we see some of your art?” chaewon asks, bob shifting like a wave around her head as she shakes it. oh, yeah. you had briefly mentioned your profession, though shame barred you from sharing your reasons that led you to this train in the first place. 

you cringe. “oh, well—”

“i’m sure it’s great!” she continues. “c’mon, pleaseee?”

with sparkling doe eyes and hands clasped tightly together, it’s difficult to say no — and you don’t, shaking your head a little as you pull up your instagram account. while you’re proud of the pieces you’ve posted on there, they aren’t your most emotional. those ones are saved in your camera roll, and that is where they will stay, only for your eyes (and a very few select others) to see. they coo and aw as they swipe through, your phone placed on the table between them. heat rushes to your cheeks as you begin to pick at the remnants of your lunch sitting on your plate. deep down, their kind comments cause an unusual sense of guilt to invade your heart. why couldn’t you produce shit like that now? what the hell is wrong with you?

with a polite smile, you thank them and move to excuse yourself before your pathetic sense of self-pity can consume you. they seem a bit surprised by your abrupt exit, but they also take it in stride, offering to text you later for dinner. slipping from your seat, you send them a wave before setting off towards the door from which you initially came. 

*:･

you don’t know what spurred you to make a stop at your room and snatch your sketchbook from your backpack before heading to the observation car, but after a whole lot of sitting and not one speck of sketching, you kind of, sort of have started to hate yourself for that decision. 

the open page in your lap is abysmally blank. no marks, no little trees or lush fields or flowers or anything that you see speeding by outside the window. your pencil has been poised against the page for the longest time, dark gray dots scattered across the page where you would press the point of the pencil to start making a mark and subsequently give up. another hour with no progress ticks by, but you still can’t make it move. move, why won’t your hand just move? 

flipping it shut, you lean back in your seat with a deep sigh. you can’t force these things, you know that much, but that won’t stop you from trying — and failing — to produce something. you’d rather not dwell on that for too long, though. those thoughts are what got you here in the first place. instead, you allow your tense muscles to relax, your eyes to lose focus and blur, blobs of green and blue passing by your vision. soft murmurs from other passengers meld together into a wall of droning noise, soft and soothing. 

that is, until the sound of someone settling into a seat a couple away from your own pops your little bubble like a sharp, pointed pin pressing into the skin of a balloon. blinking your vision back into focus, you take a quick glance to your right and—

holy shit, he’s beautiful. a sloping nose and pink, plush lips, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was a model of some sort with a face like that. his dark, slightly outgrown hair frames his side profile perfectly, sweeping back towards the back of his head where it begins to curl down the back of his neck. there’s this sort of dreamy, ethereal quality to his looks, like the universe took it’s sweet time creating him, lovingly placed tiny little stars in his sable, fox-like eyes and kissed his skin with the sun’s gentle rays, a light pink dusted across his cheeks — or, at least, the one cheek that you can see. bulky headphones sit snugly over his ears as he simply watches the landscapes pass by, one long leg crossed over the other. before you register the movement of your hands, your sketchbook is flipped back open to that very same blank page you’d given up on mere moments ago, fingers gripping your pencil once more. fluid like water is how your hand moves across the page, capturing the unique shape of his eyes, his soft yet defined jawline, the slope of his neck…

for the first time in months, you lose yourself in your work, yet you don’t even register this small breakthrough. peeking back up at the beautiful stranger every once in a while, you slowly carve out his likeness on the page in front of you, begin to add his surroundings and even a background, shading with light, circular strokes as you go, building up the deposit of graphite where it is needed most, defining the shape of his pouty lips and the strong cupid’s bow that connects his top lip to his nose, mapping out the flow and shape of locks of hair with dark, daring strokes, graphite pressing hard into the page. you even add some flyways for good measure. in your frenzied bout of drawing, you have hunched over in your chair, an old habit that is rearing its ugly head now that you don’t have a standing easel to work with. straightening your aching spine, you sit back and observe your sketch, wondering if you have missed any defining details—

and when you move to look up and take in his features again, he is staring right back at you. 

oh.

oh, fuck. 

frozen in your seat, you can’t tear your gaze away from his own, a hint of concern swirling in his irises. his eyebrows raise, eyes slightly wide as he tilts his head. the corners of his pretty lips raise, parting as if about to speak — and he does.

“are you okay?”

his deep voice snaps you out of your stupor, flinching before you quickly flip your notebook shut and sent him a tight smile paired with a nod, eyes darting around to look everywhere but him. your heart just might leap out of your chest at this rate, tear open your sternum and collide with the floor. you almost wish it would. 

he’s frowning now, a wrinkle between his eyebrows. “uh, are you sure—”

without another glance at him, you stand, clutch your notebook and pencil tight enough that it presses marks into your skin, and book it straight out of there with swift and featherlight steps. you don’t look back, far too embarrassed to even consider it, not stopping until you reach your room. the door is slammed shut behind you, but the nerves-induced ache in your chest won’t fade. pressing the cool backs of your hands against your fiery cheeks, you resist the urge to slap yourself. what the fuck is wrong with you? you should’ve just answered him and apologized for staring. he probably thinks you’re some creep now, with your weird little notebook and lack of verbal response — and the way you left. god, if a hole opened up and swallowed you whole, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

“you are so fucking embarrassing,” you hiss, venemous words aimed straight at yourself, your head buried in your hands as you curl up on the bed. day one, day fucking one, and you’ve already made a fool of yourself in front of someone.

maybe you should stay in here for the rest of your trip.

day two.

“...why is it so big?”

chaewon is referring to cloud gate — or, rather, what is more popularly known as the bean — a terribly ugly, silver, oversized, bean-shaped art installation that sits in chicago’s millennium park. an art installation that you, quite frankly, despise mostly due to the artist behind the work. given that anish kapoor is an elitist prick who has shit on the art world with his wealth and hates when people call his piece the bean, you take great, overwhelming satisfaction in calling it that. 

her question — paired with her furrowed eyebrows — causes you and sakura to snicker to yourselves. you’re grateful that they texted you this morning, had forced you out of your room because you actually were going to go through with your staying-in-your-room-forever plan (for today, at least). this park is your first stop of many, but you really want to get this part over with so that you don’t have to see this gargantuan, chrome bean ever again. despite its ugliness, you can admit that the slightly warped, mirrored reflection of the city that it provides is kind of interesting to look at, and it makes for some cool pictures. 

(still, fuck anish kapoor. you refuse to give that man any credit.)

you end up taking a photo of you flipping it off from afar, sending it to jennifer with a smirk before helping the other two girls with some of their own photos. here, there’s no pressure to create, only to enjoy and experience what surrounds you, no matter how tourist-y it may be. 

sakura slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you closer to her, arm extended out to take a selfie. your hand raises in a peace sign at the camera, smile bright and wide like the sun above. there’s not an inkling of worry in your expression — until you see him. 

the guy from yesterday, standing maybe ten feet away. he dons an unbuttoned striped shirt layered over a tank top which is tucked into baggy, dark wash jeans. a thin, black belt wraps around his waist, a small camera hanging from his neck, and his hair looks as perfect as yesterday, shiny and smooth under the unobstructed sunlight. thankfully, he hasn’t noticed you, but that doesn’t stop your smile from fading, your heart from hammering within your chest as your brain cruelly replays the events of yesterday afternoon in slow motion. you can’t face him right now. what if he comes up to you? what if he confronts you for your odd behavior in front of this crowd? these are worst case scenarios, sure, but they are potential outcomes nonetheless. as he begins to turn in your direction, you whip around, slipping from under sakura’s arm as you face the two girls. 

“you guys ready to go?” you ask, masking your worry with a tight grin. don’t ask why, don’t ask why, please don’t ask why.

“yeah, sure,” chaewon nods. “i think i’ve had enough of the bean.”

“same,” sakura laughs.

“we could grab lunch, then go to the aquarium and planetarium?” you suggest, one foot beginning to tap against the concrete as you look back and forth between them. are there eyes burning into the back of your head right now? you can’t tell, but the prickling on the back of your neck is not a promising sign. they look at each other, then back to you — a phenomenon that has rapidly become a habit for them — and agree. surging forward, your hands loop around their wrists closest to you, and begin to speed walk away. far away.

“uh, girl? this is the wrong way, we’re going deeper into the park,” sakura notes, heels digging into the concrete to slow you down. she’s right, you know she’s right, but you’re not particularly keen on turning around. 

with a sheepish grin, you say, “maybe we could take a walk through the park first?”

as if on cue, chaewon’s stomach emits an audible growl. 

“nevermind, then.”

turning around, you find the stranger facing your way, and for some reason, he’s already looking at you. his eyebrows raise in recognition the moment you make eye contact. all of a sudden, you wish that you could shrivel up and die. despite this, you rip your gaze from his and push forward, turning to speak to sakura so that you aren’t forced to glance in his direction. mission: avoid the stranger who now haunts your life — success!

goodbye, the bean and the guy who you embarrassed yourself in front of. hello, chicago-style pizza. 

*:･

you’re tired.

you’re tired and slightly more broke and your legs and feet ache to hell after the copious amount of walking you’ve done, but your day still isn’t over. no, despite the setting sun and rising moon, you still have one more activity on your itinerary — clubbing, by request of your newfound friends, though even they claim that they don’t often partake in the activity. similar to them, you’re more inclined to small get-togethers with wine, food from that thai place down the street from your apartment, and a good movie, but hey, this trip is all about experiencing new things. hell, maybe you’ll even enjoy it, who knows? at least, you’re going to try to, but the pain radiating in the soles of your feet and calves has worsened due to your high heels. the dress wrapped around your body is tight and flattering in all the right places, yet the hem rides up every few minutes as you walk. 

“the pessimism isn’t cute. quit it,” you hear jennifer’s voice echo inside your head, yet another phrase she’s uttered to you in the past. fine — on the bright side, you haven’t seen that good-looking stranger since the park. bam, positivity, go you.

sakura’s arm loops around yours as you reach the club that you collectively decided on earlier. her excited squeals at the prospect of alcohol (or, rather, more alcohol, since she pregramed a bit prior to leaving the station) and dancing are enough to bring on a weak headache that spreads across your temples. ibuprofen. you desperately need ibuprofen, but vodka will do just fine too — it’s the first thing you order at the bar, a straight shot with no chaser because at this point, you don’t care. let go, enjoy life, you internalize as you toss the sharp liquor down your throat, fatigue melting away as the alcohol enters your veins. 

cheers, jennifer. you still need to text her back.

one more downed shot later, and chaewon is dragging you to the dance floor. the bass pounds in your ears and vibrates the floor as the three of you sway to the upbeat songs. droplets of sweat begin to bead along your hairline, bodies packed so close together that it’s virtually impossible not to be jostled by a stray elbow or shoulder as you dance. if you were completely sober, it would be uncomfortable, but your hazy senses allow for you to overlook the sardine can that is called a club. it’s easy to lose yourself in the warm, heady air, in the way your hips bump between chaewon’s and sakura’s. inhibitions melt away — you’re free; no expectations weighing you down, nowhere to be, no one to be. only music, flashing lights, and the new, fruity drink in your hand, courtesy of sakura. 

“gonna take a breather!” you yell into chaewon’s ear, the alcohol finally catching up to you. she nods, yells words you can’t make out into sakura’s ear, and both of them begin to follow you out of the crowd. you sip at your drink as you push your way through, ducking under swinging arms and avoiding splashing drinks. the crowd thins as you grow closer to the edge of the dance floor until only scattered groups of friends remain.

“you didn’t have to come with me, y’know,” you say as soon as you reach a slightly quieter part of the club, taking a seat in an empty booth. “i can handle myself.”

“it’s better to stick together. less dangerous,” sakura refutes. some of the glitter that sits above her eyes had drafted down to her cheeks, glinting as a beam of bright light travels over the lower half of her face. “you never know what could happen in a club.”

chewing at the neon pink straw in your drink, you nod, “that’s true.” 

as chaewon and sakura fall into conversation, their words not quite reaching your ears, you silently scan the club. the darkness is cut by wild lasers and spotlights that whirl around and catch on the faces of countless strangers, their pearly, grinning teeth glinting and disappearing back into obscurity in a flash. you continue to nibble at your straw, vision hazy around the edges and an airy sensation in your limbs, as if you could float up to the ceiling. you look up at the multicolored lights, flashes of red and green and blue bombarding your vision, then back down towards the crowd.

and yet again, you find him in your sights. 

suddenly, your vision has a crystal clear clarity to it. button-down shirt wide open to reveal his toned torso, he smoothly moves to the beat with an intoxicated smirk painted on his lips, a small glass of amber liquor in his left hand. dark, outgrown hair, plush lips, those dark, dreamy eyes — that’s him. shit, that’s definitely him. 

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you murmur, head collapsing into your arms on top of the cool wooden table. sakura jumps in her seat next to you, before scrambling to place a hand on your shoulder.

“are you okay?” she squeals near your ear, tacking on a worried call of your name when you don’t respond right away. honestly? you’re kind of not okay. you’re tired of encountering him at every turn and being reminded of your humiliating escape from him yesterday. you’re tired of him spotting you and sending you odd looks as if you’re the weirdest person he’s ever crossed paths with. you’re tired, you’re tired, you’re just so tired. 

you decided to go on this trip to get away from the mundanity of your day-to-day routine, to get over your spell of artist’s block and see new things, but maybe you bit off more than you can chew if you were going to allow one random person to ruin that goal for you. a random stranger shouldn’t have this much power over you. 

raising your head, you send them a half-hearted nod. “i’m fine. sorry.”

chaewon frowns, “are you about to throw up? ‘cause you look like you are.”

“you look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” sakura chimes in.

sighing, you shake your head. “i think— i think i need to use the bathroom.”

as you move to get up, they do as well — though you decide not to protest this time. there’s no point, really. your legs wobble a bit as you walk, face dropping once you notice that he is near the men’s restroom now, waiting outside right across from where you aim to go. head down, you scurry past him, ignoring how his eyes widen and his knuckles pale as he grips his drink tighter. chaewon and sakura are hot on your heels as you slip into the quiet bathroom. with the music from outside now muffled, you realize your ears are ringing. reaching a sink, you turn on the faucet and splash some water onto your face. hunched over the sink, your fingers grip the edge of the counter. deep breaths, now. deep breaths. this is likely the quickest you have ever sobered up, and the sensation is rendering you dizzy.

behind you, your friends exchange concerned looks through the mirror. sakura jumps into action first, coming up behind you and placing her hands onto your shoulders. with a gentle squeeze, she murmurs, “let’s get you back to the station.”

day three.

today, the observation car is devoid of life — and so is your body after yesterday. can you overdose by taking too much ibuprofen? you’re pretty sure that you can. 

last night is but a blur in your memory with few spots of clarity, but you do vividly remember panicking in the dimly lit bathroom as the girls fretted over whether you were going to vomit all over the floor or not. you hadn’t slept much once you returned to your room after exchanging drunken hugs with your friends, assuring them that you were, indeed, not going to throw up. after a few hours of restless sleep, you’d completely given up on proper rest — you have never slept all that well with alcohol in your system, so you’re not sure why you thought this time would be any different. 

you take a seat far away from the one you took last time. clad in your pajama bottoms and an oversized t-shirt, you’re grateful that no one else is here to see you at your worst: slightly hungover with dark circles the size of dinner plates. your legs fold up onto the chair so that your knees sit near your chest, your arms looping around your shins, fingers laced together. a deep sigh. a long blink. though the rest of the sky remains an inky black, the horizon morphs into a deep purple, the color of eggplant, almost. perhaps a smidge lighter. 

a door opens, its hinges faintly squeaking, before subsequently clicking shut. figuring it must be someone older, you do not bother with checking who entered; most people your age aren’t up this early, especially not willingly. instead, you keep your eyes trained on the ever-changing sky, chin resting upon your knees.

footsteps near you, and you assume that they will pass, but then they don’t. rather, they stand right in front of you.

“may i sit here?”

you have heard this voice before, just two days ago. unsurprisingly, he stands a mere few feet away, clad in a black tank top and gray sweatpants, a long finger pointed towards a seat. similar to you, small dark circles sit beneath his eyes, but he somehow makes them work. once you nod, one corner of his lips twitches upward before he sits down, a singular seat separating your bodies. his gaze burns the side of your face; your arms wrap around your legs tighter, your unwavering stare pointed out the window. silence envelopes the train car, tense and suffocating. your lungs tighten, prickly thorns sprouting within the thin membranes. your bottom lip may begin to bleed if you keep chewing at it so carelessly.

he breaks it first, shatters it like glass colliding with the floor, with five words:

“i’m really hungover right now.”

your brows furrow. why is he trying to strike up a conversation with you? why do you want to answer him? 

he continues before you can formulate a response, “i saw you at that club last night — you looked a little sick. are you okay?”

“peachy,” you curtly mumble, lips pursing. of course he remembers you; you did pass by him, after all, basically sprinted into the bathroom with the grace of a bull in a china shop. he hasn’t mentioned the park, but you know damn well he remembers that too.

you can sense the frown from his tone, confusion lacing the edges like delicate lace. his question is careful, slowly intonated as if he’s scared of pissing you off. “uh, did i do something wrong?”

you shake your head, not a single glance spared in his direction thus far. he hasn’t. your attitude is a direct result of your own actions, your own rampant anxieties. a pang of guilt punches you in the gut — he does not deserve your bitchiness when he, quite frankly, has done nothing but exist in relative proximity to you. 

“you haven’t,” you reply, voice meek. your eyes trace over the short fibers of the plain carpet below your seat. “i’m just— i’m sorry.”

the low rumble of the train fills the air again, no further words spoken between the two of you. there’s no clear way to explain yourself further, but your apology is sincere; with a brief peek, you find him staring out the window.

“can i ask why you keep running away whenever you see me?” the query lacks an accusatory edge. rather, curiosity and interest cushion his voice. maybe…maybe he doesn’t find you that strange, after all.

and finally, after two days of avoiding his gaze, you swivel your head to face him. you find a tilted head, a single humorous, raised eyebrow. despite yourself, you begin to smile. “honestly?”

“i’d prefer honesty, yes,” he grins.

“i—” you hesitate for a moment, then continue, “i was embarrassed.” a grimace paints your face, dragging your brows down and twisting your lips. “after, y’know…”

“running away the first time?” he supplies.

your mouth flattens into a thin line, a hand moving up to scratch your cheek. “yeah, that.”

laughter reaches your ears, partially nasally. rolling your eyes, your mouth splits into a grin. 

“i get it. i feel like i definitely startled you, so no hard feelings.” he pauses, starry eyes widening in what you believe is realization, “i never got your name.”

easily, you supply it, cheeks flushing with heat when he offhandedly comments that it’s pretty. if he notices your sudden flustered state, he doesn’t comment on it, and despite the warmth now slithering down your neck, you feel yourself relax back into your seat, legs leaving their curled up position to cross at the ankle in front of you. then, he offers his own. yeonjun — at long last, you have put a name to his handsome face. 

out of nowhere, he asks, “have you had breakfast?” 

shaking your head, you gesture to your pajama bottoms. “not yet, i was going to grab some after i changed.”

“i don’t know, i think the plaid pants are pretty fashionable,” he chuckles. you join him. “c’mon, i saw an old guy wearing boxers and a shirt in there yesterday. i’m pretty sure it’ll be fine.”

you giggle, “that’s kinda gross, but alright. let’s go.”

peering out the window again, you find that the sun has just peeked above the horizon, a wash of orange fading into blue, melting together like watercolor. smiling to yourself, you stand and begin to follow yeonjun towards the dining car.

*:･

you and yeonjun had gone your separate ways hours ago, but not without exchanging contact information. since then, he hasn’t stopped texting you, his talent at keeping any conversation going shining in direct contrast to your, well, lack of said talent. however, you do find yourself replying to him with ease — he makes it so easy to do so, mostly due to the fairly unorthodox topics he likes to bring up. currently, you’re talking about the animals that scare you the most. why? because that’s the nature of yeonjun’s conversation skills, you suppose.

another voice message pops up in your chat, about ten seconds long — one of his more obvious quirks. most of his messages are sent in this form, not that you mind. his voice is as pretty as the rest of him. heart-fluttering. okay, stop. you just met this guy. 

(jennifer always does say that you fall too easily. maybe she’s right.)

pressing play, his voice enters your left ear via your single earbud. “no because hear me out: dolphins have fooled you into thinking they’re nice. manipulated you. they literally torture their prey— and they use puffer fishes to get high! i can’t make this shit up. my fear is justified, i swear.”

under your breath, you chuckle, an elbow leaned against the dining table. after a long nap, you had texted the girls to see if they’d like to get dinner with you. of course, they said yes, but you decided to get here a bit early to grab an open table. the car is already packed as it is.

“what’re you laughing at?” unexpectedly, sakura’s head appears over your shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of your phone. out of habit, you lock it, your reflections staring back at you through the black screen. as she sits next to you, chaewon, takes the seat across from you, elbows placed on the table and her hands supporting her chin. she sends you a knowing smile.

“is that your boyfriend?” she prods. the question causes your mouth to fall open for a moment before you snap it shut. 

“no!” you exclaim. “it’s just a friend.”

“sounds like a boyfriend,” sakura surmises, exchanging a conspiratory nod with the other girl. you release a groan, hands shielding your fiery hot face before you drag them up over your hair. 

“he’s not my boyfriend,” you shoot back. “we just met today.” two days ago, actually. if you can count that.

their mouths open in tandem, shock coloring their features. is this a big deal, or something? you aren’t even dating the guy. 

“you met a guy and didn’t tell us?” sakura grasps your arm with both hands, shaking the limb with a strength that shouldn’t be possible to come from her thin body. “you should’ve told us! we can be your wingwomen!”

“wingwomen?” you echo dumbly as you stare at her. wingwomen, as in, like, jennifer-style wingwomen? as in trying too hard to set you up with someone and ultimately embarrassing you in the end wingwomen? your love for jennifer knows no bounds, but she’s ruined the term for you long ago with her terrible luck. a shudder runs down your spine, and you grin nervously. “i don’t think that’s necessary.”

“of course it is! i’ve always wanted to do that for one of my friends, but they’re all taken already,” chaewon pouts, irresistible puppy dog eyes appearing. “c’mon, please?

“i doubt he’d want to date me, though? we’ve literally only talked once, so really, it’s okay.”

“once is enough,” sakura declares, suddenly tilting her body closer to yours. “tell us, is he cute? what’s his name?”

they’re obviously not going to let this go, and you have no power to really stop them. 

sighing, you officially give up, “yeonjun, and yes, i do.” unfortunately. 

chaewon claps her hands together, an audible smack! echoing from her palms. her smile is blinding, a supernova of pearly white teeth and pink, upturned lips. “perfect! we can work with that.” 

“i already have an idea: ask him to hang out tomorrow,” sakura says, and you send her an incredulous look, glancing at chaewon for a moment to find that she’s excitedly nodding along to the idea like an excitable puppy. her round eyes sure make her resemble one.

you shake your head. “i can’t do that, it’s too forward.”

rolling her eyes, sakura tosses her hands up in the air. “too forward my ass! how do you expect to bag him?”

“i don’t!”

chaewon chimes in, an open hand reaching towards you, “alright, give us your phone. we’ll text him for you.”

“absolutely not!”

ding!

it’s comical, how all three of you pivot your wide-eyed gazes to the phone clenched in your fingers. the flash of yeonjun’s name across the screen is enough to send your table into chaos. 

“open it!”

“what did he say—”

“calm down, oh my god!” you shriek, sending an apologetic look to the couple next to you when they look over. fingers fly over your keyboard until you’ve reached his contact. words, this time, no voice message. butterflies burst into your chest.

yeonjun: do you have anything planned for tmrw? 

after scanning over the message herself, sakura pokes at your shoulder. “tell him you don’t.” 

with a deep, heavy sigh, you do as she says.

[6:37 p.m.]: not yet, why?

“that’s too dry,” chaewon comments.

“shut up, i’m trying,” you hiss. it takes him a few minutes to respond, minutes in which you internally panic. was your text really too dry? in the meantime, you place your dinner order with a kind waiter that stops by, a hearty dish that you can drown your sorrows in the not-so-off chance that this goes terribly, terribly wrong. another ping sounds from your phone’s speakers, and time stops once you read what he sent. clocks stop ticking, you stop breathing, everything around you freezes.

yeonjun: do you wanna grab coffee in the morning then? :)

sakura sends you a sharp look. “i doubt he’d want to date me — are you seeing this right now? or do you need me to spell it out for you? this is a date, babe.”

“it’s not,” you counter weakly. you only (officially) met him today, so, “it’s really not.”

day four.

contrary to what sakura claimed, this is very much not a date — but you’re happy about it. 

he keeps a respectful distance between your bodies as you walk, you pay for your own coffee, and you pull your own chair out when you go to sit down. it’s simple, it’s friendly, it’s a bit awkward, but there’s some things you have to sacrifice when making new friends. the croissant you’ve decided on is on the drier side, a little too flaky. you nibble on it anyway in a poor attempt to ignore the silence that has fallen between you once again. this is why you try to meet people through other friends; at least in those situations, you have a buffer, someone who knows you and the other person well enough that they can find connections between you without having to dig. you hate digging — you’re the worst at it, hence the stifling quiet that permeates the air now.

the café is quaint, if a bit moody thanks to the lighting. outside the window, the denver street teems with people, and you decide to survey the passing strangers rather than look at the man sitting across from you. wisps of fluffy white clouds float high above, sometimes passing over the sun. you wish you had your supplies with you — this would make for a wonderful painting. 

click!

turning your head, you find yeonjun holding a camera, the lens pointed at…you? you hadn’t noticed it prior, so you are unsure where he got it from. it looks like the same one he had at the park. a bashful smile appears as soon as he places it on the table. “sorry, the lighting was perfect. can’t ever pass up a nice shot.” you study the camera for a moment, and he takes your lack of response as a sign to continue, “once i edit it, i can definitely send you a copy. do you wanna see it?”

a photographer. yeonjun is a photographer. you’re not sure why it’s taken you this long to realize. maybe because you’ve been avoiding him up until now? you think. shaking the thought away, you smile. “i’d love to see it.”

he presses a few buttons, a focused twist to his plush lips, before he’s sliding it over to your side of the table. he’s right: it was a nice shot, and while you don’t often enjoy how you look in photographs, he’s found an angle that highlights your best features as you gaze outside, a slight part to your lips and your eyes wide open, shining. the sheer amount of contrast between the dark café and your warm-lit face scratches an itch in your brain. you can see it now — the golden pigment wetting your brush before being placed on the canvas, being blended into an umber, almost black, but not quite. a splash of umber here, a hint of red there…

“is this your job?” you decide to ask. 

the sheepish expression returns in full force, but there’s a hint of pride in his eyes. he’s proud of his work. “yeah. i’m not, like, famous or anything, but i enjoy it. my mom said that when i was a baby, they put a stethoscope, a gavel, a camera, a microphone, and a test tube in front of me, and i chose the camera, so it was basically meant to be,” he chuckles, but, realizing that you’re staring at him, he pauses for moment. crimson paints the tips of his ears; it’s a color that you’re pretty sure sits in your travel set. “sorry, was that too much?”

“not at all,” you reply softly. “that’s a lovely story, yeonjun.” 

“thanks.” shyly, he bites down on his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth before releasing it. a beat of quiet passes, then he’s asking, “how about you? what do you do for work?”

for some reason, the question looms over your head like a storm cloud. it’s unavoidable and dark and heavy. a bitter taste fills your mouth, different from the aftertaste of your coffee, but you try not to let your sudden drop in mood show. 

“i’m an artist, though i don’t think many people would consider me one nowadays,” you snicker, but the self-deprecating edge to your words is not lost on yeonjun. 

wrinkles form in the space between his brows. “what do you mean?” 

“i…” you trail off. you should tell him. you should rip the bandaid off and quit avoiding facing it for what it is. “i haven’t finished a piece in months. i feel stuck, almost? like nothing is resonating with me, if that makes sense. it’s the whole reason i went on this trip. it’s humiliating, not being able to draw a single thing without hating it— sorry, that’s definitely too much.” 

“no, no, you’re fine,” and he’s sincere in his reassurances. he doesn’t look at you like you’re some sort of failure for how you feel. he doesn’t spew out a hollow apology to absolve him of the weight you’ve transferred to his shoulders, nor does he seem to mind that he’s helping you burden it. his hand reaches over the table, hesitant for a moment, before his fingers curl over yours, his warm skin against yours. you stare at his hand, but you don’t move away from his touch, allowing him to give your hand a delicate squeeze. looking back up, you sit frozen under his gaze. it warms your insides, melts the icy shards solidifying in your lungs that make it hard to breathe. “none of that makes you less of an artist. it’s something every artist goes through — hell, i’ve gone through it, and it’s okay to feel that way. it’s real and it sucks to feel like you can’t accomplish anything, but there’s nothing wrong with it. eventually, it will pass on its own, but until then, it’s not a sin to lean on others for support.”

tears almost, almost prick your eyes. however, you push them down; there’s no way you’re going to cry in public, in front of him. absolutely not. he squeezes your hand one more time, his thumb brushing over yours, before pulling away. “and if no one else will listen, i will.”

“thank you,” you croak out, blinking rapidly, taking a long sip of coffee in order to buy yourself a few precious seconds to cloak your emotions. a calm veil falls over your face soon enough, and while you hate to be the one to change the subject, you feel like you should. “do you want to go on a walk? it’s too nice out to stay in here all day.”

he doesn’t question the sudden change, humming in confirmation as he scoots his chair back. “it really is nice out. do you have any other plans?”

“not really,” you say, pushing the door open. the warm breeze caresses your face. “i’m trying to be spontaneous—”

“y/n!”

sakura and chaewon appear to your left, each carrying a couple bags that look to be stuffed with clothes. you vaguely remember them mentioning going thrifting, but you didn’t know that they’d be in the same part of the city as you. chaewon comes in for a hug, whispering into your ear, “he’s cute.”

glancing up at yeonjun, sakura feigns ignorance, “who’s this?” 

thus, your friends meet the one man you’d rather keep them away from, if only to prevent their wingwomen shenanigans. you have zero clue what they have planned, but you’re sure none of it can be good. 

“we were just on our way to the botanical gardens,” chaewon sings. “if you’d like to join usss.”

wordlessly, you and yeonjun communicate, only raised eyebrows and tilted chins. somehow, you understand exactly what he’s trying to convey. do you want to? do you? i don’t mind if you don’t. alright, let’s do it.

when you do arrive at the gardens, yeonjun’s fingers find your wrist, holding you back for a moment. his free hand gestures to the camera hanging around his neck. “mind being my model for the day?”

you blink. you, his model? “oh, um. i think chae and kkura are a bit more qualified—”

“no way,” he laughs. “i’m the professional here, and i want you. no one else will do.”

i want you — god, those three, simple words send a visceral shiver down your spine. a want, a need, an overwhelming desire for…you’re not even sure, but something all-consuming blooms behind your sternum like a moonflower in the night. with a coy dip of your head, you smile to yourself, allowing the feeling to surge through your veins, consume every fiber of your being.

“alright, mr. professional. lead the way.”

*:･

it’s early in the evening when you return to the station in a giddy haze, arm looped around yeonjun’s. the photo session had been a success; by the end, you were drunk on the compliments he aimed your way, on the way he treated you like glass as he directed you into a specific pose, the fleeting sensation of his fingertips pressing into your skin burned into your memory. 

closing the door to your room, you press your back into it, squeal into your palms like you did when you were sixteen and harboring a silly little crush. because that’s all it is right now, really: a foolish crush on a man that you probably won’t see again after this trip. you can fantasize all you want, but in the end, that’s what it is. those invading negative thoughts get drowned out by the movie playing behind your eyelids — a replay of the day. you swear you can feel every touch of his skin against yours, every ray of sunshine that kissed your skin and gifted you its warmth. scurrying over to your bag, you locate your supplies. 

and you begin to paint. 

a flurry of lilacs, a blurry figure among them all, defined only by a flowing white button up and brown, wide leg trousers, black streaks of hair and nothing more. yellow daffodils and vibrant emerald sweetgrass take shape, a cerulean sky, fluffy clouds. it’s messy and you kind of hate it, but it’s something. something is on the canvas, it’s dynamic, it has character.

“okay,” you mumble, staring at the brushstrokes, going over them again and again. “okay.”

day five.

“can i draw you?” 

a spur of the moment question, borne from the golden sunset gracing his cheeks, highlighting strands of his hair. the day has passed quietly today, mostly spent in your room sketching to your heart’s content. though mostly inconsequential doodles paired with terribly cheesy words of prose that even your most romantic friends would scrunch their noses at, these exercises in creating without a specific goal in mind seem to be helping. a part of that gray fog over your world has been wafted away by an invisible hand, and everything is a bit more vibrant, closer to its true hue; while nothing about your creations are particularly special or groundbreaking, going on this trip is now beginning to prove its worth. 

yeonjun’s head tilts, and you shrug. “what? i need practice.”

“okay, as long as you promise to show me afterward,” he challenges, and you immediately shake your head. 

“i’m only going to show it to you if it turns out well,” you decide. you think back to the painting sitting in your room, still a bit wet, the paint overworked to hell. that one is staying a secret. it’s not good enough to be known by anyone else — and certainly not by him.

“then no deal.” when you give him a pleading look, he raises his hands. “i show you my pictures, you show me what’s going on in that sketchbook, it’s only fair.”

“fine,” you hiss, fishing your sketchbook from your bag. “get comfortable, and don’t even think about moving.”

“harsh.”

with a suppressed grin, you take in the planes of his face. he’s shifted to face you, intent eyes trained on you, which makes your job harder. gulping, you raise an arm, mapping out his proportions with a thumb. the process of pressing intentional marks into the page is a slow one, exacerbated by his unwavering stare. you have to look out at the mountains every once in a while to allow oxygen back into your lungs, and even then, the action proves difficult. graphite scratching paper is backed by the low murmur of other passengers in the observation car as you work, capturing the fading light that casts shadows across his face. however, your creative juices quickly run out, likely sapped by your painting escapade that extended far into the night. the shape of his eyes isn’t quite right, and no matter how much you erase and try again, there’s always a slight detail off about it. too narrow, too round, too—

the tip of the pencil snaps, the point rolling across the page and falling onto the floor. you curse under your breath. 

“is it done?” yeonjun asks, leaning forward. his hands gently take your sketchbook from your lap before you can protest, and you watch as his expression shifts from neutral to slack-jawed. 

“that’s…you’re…wow,” he starts, then never finishes. he still hasn’t torn his wide eyes away from the page, flitting around as he drinks in every miniscule detail, while you pinpoint every single thing wrong with the drawing.

“it’s bad,” you deadpan. “give it back, i need to fix it.”

he frowns. you seem to make him do that a lot. “there’s nothing to fix.”

“there’s everything to fix.”

“it’s literally a carbon copy of me,” he counters. “you’re crazy.”

“says the one who can’t see the shape of his eyes right now. the lash line isn’t straight enough at the top, the nose isn’t quite right, the hair lacks form. it’s terrible.”

for the first time since you met him, yeonjun is annoyed. eyes narrowed and dark, he locks his gaze into yours, throws away the key. you can’t move while he tosses the worn sketchbook back into your lap, a hand running through his hair, locks raising with his fingers and flopping back down into his face.

“i know what it’s like to be your own worst critic,” he says, voice soft like a lullaby, standing in direct contrast to his firm expression. “but it’s one thing to be critical of your art, and another to resent it. you’re a wonderful artist, y/n. talented isn’t enough to describe you, but negativity is going to get you nowhere. it holds you back.”

he’s right — you loathe that he is, and you more so hate how he sounds just like jennifer. your nails skirts the fraying edge of the leather cover in your laps, picking at it like you would with skin, peeling cracked flakes off to reveal a soft underbelly of lighter-colored suede. wine red versus warm tan. you feel like you’re being admonished, a child who’s misbehaved. you feel small, but at the same time, you need to hear it. you’ve been coddled enough. 

“i used to hate my stuff too, y’know. never thought it was ever that special, but that’s what made me underestimate myself. that’s what made me settle for less, that’s what made me lock my camera away in my closet for the longest time until i felt i was ‘ready’ to use it — but who was i to say i was ready? how do you know when you are? honestly, you don’t. you won’t ever know. all you can do is create and create and hope that you eventually make something that you’re proud of. until then, you keep trying, you figure out what’s working, what isn’t, and go from there. in the end, everything you create is a reflection of you, and that’s the beautiful thing about art. it bares your soul, it strips you down to the rawest parts of yourself that you may despise right now — but it’s still you. and don’t you think you deserve to give yourself some grace?”

his words strike a place deep within you, an ache beginning in the center of your chest and snaking out like the roots of a tree into your stomach and throat. you do deserve some grace, don’t you? you don’t spew venomous words towards your friends or strangers every day, yet you do it to yourself without a second thought. why? you bring yourself and your skills down any chance that you get. why? your art is merely an extension of yourself — is this how you forever want to feel whenever you are drawing? whenever you’re sculpting a piece? no, not at all. your head raises. 

“have you ever thought about becoming a public speaker?”

he lets out an incredulous scoff, but there’s still an inkling of teasing in his tone, “is that all you got from my mini speech? i thought it was amazing. life-changing, even.”

“no,” you deny with a tight-chested laugh. “but there’s not much more to add. you’ve said it all for me.”

the passing mountains are purple now, the greenery a muted magenta. in this moment, you decide the yeonjun is an enigma; untouchable, unreachable — standing too close to his bright, technicolor world would burn your muted one to the ground. if you are icarus, then he is the sun sending you plummeting down into oblivion.

but you want to touch him, you want to burn.

you want to feel alive again.

“let me draw you again,” and maybe it won’t be your best. maybe the slope of his chin will be crooked, maybe the intrinsic sparkle in his eyes won’t be quite right, but there’s a conviction present in your tone that causes him to smile.

day six.

“are you really trying to have a dick measuring contest with the seals right now?”

san francisco’s iconic pier 39 is abustle with tourists, but you and yeonjun are currently at the very back of the pier, where seals soak in the sun on little wooden docks constructed just for them. at the moment, yeonjun is trying to out-seal the seals with loud barks and hoots, mimicking their distinctive sounds. yeonjun is still making noises, people are starting to stare, and you are beginning to want to climb over the wooden fence and jump straight into the ocean. 

“yeonjun, please stop,” you plead, hands gripping the sleeve of his t-shirt, yet he doesn’t stop, honking back at the seals once they respond. you tug a bit harder. “c’mon, people are staring. the seals don’t care how loud you are, you’re not proving anything.”

“i’m proving a lot of things right now, actually,” he quips before he’s going back to making noises that are unbecoming of a human being. this feels like a cruel form of exposure therapy.

you try pulling at his sleeve again. “c’mon, yeonjun.” and again. “yeonjun!”

“okay, okay, i’ll stop,” he cackles, turning to face you. he’s close — too close to be considered platonic. his hands could come up and hold your waist right now, pull you closer into his chest. it causes you to take a step back, and it’s as if he can sense the heat radiating from your cheeks, leaning down towards you with a smirk. “you embarrassed?”

“of course i’m embarrassed,” you hiss. “how are you not?”

shaking his head, his grin grows impossibly wider. “if i buy you lunch, will you forgive me?” 

pretending to think, you look off to the side, then back to him. of course you will. “maybe.”

“i’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs as he falls into step next to you. the air is much cooler here than at your other stops, a gray blanket of fog rolling in on the horizon that cuts into the clear blue sky. he sends you a hopeful look as he asks, “y’feeling clam chowder?”

with a tiny shrug, you confess that you’ve never had it before. with a dramatic hand placed against his chest, he gasps, “you live in the northeast, and you’ve never tried it? that has to be some sort of crime.”

chowder hut is his restaurant of choice, a circular, well, hut that sits by its lonesome across from the infamous pier. it’s a place he used to go when he lived in san jose and took day trips here with his cousins, he claims. the restaurant holds a lot of fond memories for him, this whole city does. you wonder what those memories entail.

“i got you a small one in case you don’t like it,” yeonjun says as soon as he returns with your food. a tray is placed in front of you: a round sourdough loaf carved into to create a bowl, filled with cream-colored, steaming-hot chowder thick with chunks of potatoes, pieces of bacon, and, of course, clams. digging a spoon in, you take your first bite — clean, briny, slightly sweet, bursting across your taste buds like tiny little firecrackers. your eyes widen at the taste, buzzing in delight against the spoon poised to your lips. he grins. “it’s good, right?” 

you hum in agreement, swallowing another spoonful. you’re crazy for never having tried this before. twenty-four years of living, and you had no idea what you were missing out on. you’ve missed out on a long of things, it seems, but you’re beginning to catch up on them with the help of yeonjun — as well as sakura and chaewon, of course. you could never forget about them.

“you’re forever going to be connected to clam chowder in my mind now, i hope you know that,” you say, tearing into the walls of the bread bowl. the remnants of the salty chowder have soaked into the bowl, mixing perfectly with the tanginess of the bread. yeah, you wouldn’t forget this in a million years; it’s too delicious to forget. 

“you do that too?” he asks. you send him a questioning glance. “like, connect people to food.”

“yeah, i guess i do,” you ponder. “my mom reminds me of this one dish she always made me as a kid. my best friend reminds me of wine, since that’s what we drank when we first met. it’s also her favorite. and now you…remind me of clam chowder.”

he chuckles, “great, i’ll always be the clam chowder guy to you.”

you giggle back. “it’s not a bad title to hold. you could be, i don’t know, the terrible clam chowder guy.”

“fair enough. i’ll take it,” he declares before he shoves the last piece of his bread bowl into his mouth. his cheeks puff out, similar to a chipmunk, and you resist the urge to chuckle at the image in your head. “now that i think about it, i don’t do it with just people — a lot of my fondest memories are connected to food, too. something human about it, y’know? food is its own form of love. or, at least, i think it is.”

“no, i completely agree. there’s something special about sharing food with others — it’s kinda intimate, i guess? especially if you’re cooking for someone, those are some of the most vivid memories for me.” 

nodding along with you, he’s leaning forward, elbows resting against the table. the corners of his lips quirk up. “you get it. the intimacy of it, i mean. my mom has always said that food is the best way to a person’s heart — food brings people together. it’s amazing.”

“yeah,” you beam. “it really is.”

for a moment, conversation ceases, the two of you smiling at each other, leaning forward over the table. your mouth opens to speak, but a loud caw draws your attention away from his hypnotizing eyes. you watch a seagull swoop in to harass a man that sits two tables over, his glasses skewed on his face as he tries to keep the bird from stealing his food. arms wave everywhere while the seagull screeches at him, flapping its wings on top of the man’s head. after a brief second of shock, the sight has you nearly doubling over with laughter, unflattering shrieks sounding from your throat. it takes a minute for your giggles to subside. while you wipe a tear from your lash line, you look back at him — and freeze.

he’s staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky, chin supported by his palm. his mouth curves into something serene and fond, hooded eyes scanning your face as you stare back. you’re no longer smiling, mouth parted as you wait for him to say something, anything. he doesn’t, so you move to break the intense air brewing between you.

“is…is something wrong?” with a flinch, his eyes blink rapidly for a second, coming back into focus. he sits up straighter, leaning into the back of his chair.

“i just— nevermind. sorry, spaced out there for a second,” his chin dips towards his chest before rising again, the tips of his ears flushing cherry. he looks nervous, almost. “um, if you’re up for it later, we could grab dinner at this korean restaurant i used to go to? it reminds me a lot of my parents. i think you’d like it.” 

while you’d rather ask where his head is at right now, what he was going to say before he stopped himself so abruptly, you say, “i’d love that.”

*:･

he was right, you do like it. 

the restaurant is cozy, a little hole-in-the-wall in the heart of the city where less tourists roam. the food is delicious, flavorful meats and fluffy rice and various veggie side dishes that you can’t stop eating. as he snaps some photos of the place, he tells you the decor reminds him of restaurants in seoul, of the mom-and-pop shops he’d frequent there. that at some point or other, some of the owners would start recognizing him when he came in and gave him extra food free of charge. 

“so you lived there for a while? in korea?” you ask as you watch him some meat for the two of you to share. the action is second nature to him, each piece staying on the grill for the same amount of time, flipped only once. you bring a piece to your mouth — it’s perfectly cooked.

“i was born there, in a town near seoul,” he says through a mouthful of rice. “moved around a bit, but i lived in seoul for most of it ‘til i was eighteen. then i moved to new york for college, but dropped out after two semesters to pursue photography. it’s been six years since i moved to the states.”

“you said you lived in san jose for a while earlier.” you tilt your head at him. “when was that?”

“ah,” he starts. “i studied abroad when i was in elementary school and stayed with some family there— do you want some more meat? i can order more.”

your meat supply has dwindled down to two pieces. there’s still room in your stomach, so you nod. “sure.”

he calls over the sole server on shift, speaking to him rapidly in his native tongue. the server glances over at you for a brief second before focusing back on yeonjun. out of their entire conversation, you recognize one word: friend. it’s a term that jennifer taught you a while ago, one that has stuck with you because she now likes to jokingly call you that every now and then. an inside joke between the two of you.

when the server leaves, yeonjun is left a flustered mess. your eyebrows raise. “why’s your face so red? what’d he say?”

“nothing! it’s just from the kimchi! it’s really spicy here,” he quickly claims before he’s gulping down half a glass of water. you, quite frankly, don’t buy it for a second, but choose not to pry. 

day seven.

of course, at least one thing has to go wrong on a trip like this. mechanical problems with the train has rendered everyone stuck in the golden city until tomorrow morning, at which another train will take over the rest of the trip. the station is across the bay, so amtrak has given every passenger a voucher to pay for a night’s stay at various hotels across the city — customer’s choice, no less. to be safe, you choose the one closest to the bar chaewon and sakura want to check out tonight. once you told yeonjun where you decided to stay, he used his voucher there as well. he wants to stay near you, he says, to make it easy to find each other.

today, the girls join you and yeonjun at pier 39. they partake in bread bowls, they watch yeonjun embarrass himself at the seal docks, they send you knowing looks when he pays for your food. when yeonjun finds a street performer with a dance mat and wastes no time in starting a battle against the guy, they tell you that he’s trying to impress you.

“he’s not,” you whisper to them. “that’s just how he is. i promise.”

night begins to fall, and they suggest going to a bar for dinner, more for the drinks and not the food. you accept, and in turn, so does yeonjun — though you immediately regret not thinking the decision through more. the bar is dangerous. not in an external hazard sense, but in more of a you’re scared of getting drunk and vomiting your blossoming feelings onto his shoes type of sense. you keep your drinking to a minimum, still on your first drink an hour in. next to you, however, yeonjun is starting to collapse in on himself, hunched over the counter of the bar as his third drink kicks in. a giggle bubbles up from your throat. you never pegged him to be a lightweight. 

“let’s get you some water,” you gently suggest, a comforting hand on his shoulder. waving the bartender over, you ask for a glass, helping him sit up and take a sip. his chin falls onto your shoulder this time, eyes hazy as he looks up at you with a dopey smile. 

“you’re really pretty, did y‘know that?” he slurs, leaning further into you as an arm wraps around your waist. his barstool screeches across the floor, shifting closer to yours. you freeze as shock fills your veins, nerve endings beneath his touch on fire. he pokes your warm cheek. “s’pretty.”

you blink. hard. “yeonjun, you’re drunk—”

“no ‘m not. ’m perfectly— ‘m perfectly fine,” the words stumble out of his pouty lips drenched in fatigue, his tone whiny and petulant, as he turns in his seat to wrap his other arm around your waist, forehead now sagging against your shoulder. your body stiffens up, tense muscles frozen in place as he continues his delirious ramblings. 

“i need to go to the bathroom!” you all of sudden exclaim, attempting to pry his arms off of you. he only squeezes you tighter, whining how you can’t leave here alone. you sigh, patting his hair, “you could wait outside?”

he accepts the offer, but doesn’t remove his arm from your waist as both of you stand. despite his almost six foot tall frame, you are forced to support him as he stumbles along towards the bathrooms and pray that you don’t twist an ankle in the process. when you reach the women’s bathroom, he still doesn’t let go. 

“nooo, don’t leave meeee,” he whines, pulling you back into his chest while your hand grips the door handle. calling his name, you slip your hands beneath his and grab them to pull them off of you.

“i’ll be right back, i promise,” you say once you situate him against the wall, his shoulder hunched and his head hanging down towards his chest. you give him a worried pat on his head before disappearing into the bathroom. in reality, you do not have to go. instead, you stand in front of the mirror, taking in your blown out eyes, feeling a scorching heat encase your face and spread down towards your chest. he’s drunk, you remind yourself. he doesn’t know what he’s saying. 

you wash your hands once. twice. three times, allowing the cool water to run over your heated skin. you splash some on the back of your neck. calm down. calm the fuck down. 

you are, indeed, not able to calm the fuck down before a flurry of knocks reverbates against the door. yeonjun’s voice follows soon after, asking if he can come in, if you’re okay. “why have you been gone for so longggg? i miss you!”

“no! don’t come in!” you yell, glad that all of the stalls are vacant. making your way back over to the exit, you wrench open the door and find him standing there, fist raised in the air as if he was going to knock again. 

he blinks once. then, an impossibly wide grin splits his face. “you’re back!”

stepping forward, you allow the door to swing shut behind you. arms wrap around you once again, but this time, you stumble backwards into the wall. when you look up, his face is just above yours. 

oh.

oh, fuck. 

this feels like a repeat of day one all over again, you trapped under his gaze, but this lacks the distance of that day. the unfamiliarity with each other. his hands haven’t left your waist, fingers pressing into your flesh over your thin dress, while the wall presses into your back. you have nowhere to go, but maybe you’re more drunk than you initially thought, because his lips look very inviting right now. you watch his eyes trail down to your parted lips, then back to your eyes, tongue darting out to swipe over his bottom lip. his eyelids hood his dark, hazy pupils. the muscles in his neck contract, his adam’s apple bobbing as he leans closer, an electric attraction between your lips. you tilt your head, eye fluttering shut, moving closer, closer…

“y/n! there you are!” 

yeonjun jumps away from you as chaewon rushes up to you. her hands find your shoulders as she cries, “kkura twisted her ankle really bad! can you help me?”

you turn your head towards yeonjun, then back to chaewon, whose wide, rounded eyes plead you to come with her. “okay,” you say softly. “let’s go.”

yeonjun follows close behind, and all you can think of is what would have happened if chaewon didn’t show up. sakura’s ankle ends up being fine, and getting her back to her hotel room isn’t too difficult given the close proximity of the hotel. 

*:･

four days. four days you have known yeonjun, but it feels like it’s been years since you met each other. that fact strikes fear into your heart, remembering that the last time that this fast burn of feelings in your heart occurred, you ended up a brokenhearted mess for months. if yeonjun is the sun, his overwhelming heat melting you down into a puddle, then beomgyu was a black hole, all-consuming and ripping pieces of you away when he abruptly up and left. you’re unsure if you can go through that again, but at the same time, yeonjun doesn’t give off the impression of a drifter who wouldn’t tell you he’s leaving until after the fact. he’s a constant, a steady fortress. reliable, enduring. 

“good night,” yeonjun murmurs, both of you standing in front of your door. 

“good night,” you parrot back, rocking back on your heels, but you don’t really want him to go. knowing that isn’t realistic, you settle for opening your arms up towards him. for the first time, he hugs you good night, his lithe arms wrapping around your waist while he presses a drunken kiss into the crown of your head, and a feeling of being home washes over you. 

day eight.

he sits closer to you now. no longer is there a gap that separates your bodies, a full chair between the two of you. now, he sits right next to you, thigh brushing against your own. his hand sometimes finds your knee, never too high on your leg, never uncomfortable. just…there, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the skin. neither of you mention what transpired between you last night, his affectionate words, the mere centimeters that separated your lips before chaewon interrupted. nevertheless, an unspoken barrier between you has broken, its bricks torn down by the hands of intoxication — due to alcohol, but also because of each other.

the almost-kiss replays in your mind in a constant loop; the woody citrus of his cologne is still strong in your nose, the warmth radiating from his flushed cheeks a phantom against your skin. you want to talk about it. you want to rip open the memory like a pomegranate for the two of you to share, but you don’t. you don’t know what you would do if you ruined…whatever this is that you and him have going on. he’s become a sort of constant in your life that you don’t think you can live without. you like him; you can admit it now. what you feel is not just a mere attraction anymore, an artistic appreciation for his unique features. he brings out a brighter part of you, a part that has been buried deep into your soul over the years, beneath layers of grime and dirt and negative experiences that you won’t let go of. the gray film over your eyes has been wiped clean by him, him and his beautiful heart he so easily bares to others. his heart that is so full of love — love for being alive, love for others — you wonder if any of that love could ever be for you one day.

he watches you sketch, you let him snap photos of you doing so. you share a small bag of chips, greasy fingers brushing against each other during those times in which you both reach in tandem. for hours, you sit together in a silence that is no longer awkward, but soft and tender. shoulder against shoulder, skin against skin. words aren’t required, your actions speaking for themselves. you bask in it all.

day nine.

the space needle isn’t that impressive.

you’re sure it’s a much better experience when you’re at the top, but yeonjun shares a fear of heights with you, so there’s no way in hell either of you are going up there. instead, you stand beneath it, amongst an ever-moving sea of seattleites and tourists, and wait for chaewon and sakura to come back down from the tall building. 

at the beginning of this trip, you’d allow for a few feet of space between your bodies, but slowly, it’s diminished to a scant few inches. you don’t really register this gradual change, as natural as it was. every once in a while, his pinky brushes against yours. neither you nor yeonjun move to do anything about it, either by pulling away or linking them together — a state of limbo that is befitting for a pair of strangers falling for each other. to make the dive into the unknown or to stay on the surface where it’s safe, that is the question.

“how much longer do you think they’ll be?” you ask, staring up at the pointed top of the tower. the sky is gray today, a bit chilly, but it’s an expected sight in washington during this time of year. “i’m getting hungry.”

yeonjun huffs a laugh, lightly elbowing your bicep. “maybe we could grab something real quick. i saw this taco truck nearby—”

“y/n? is that you?”

you’d recognize that deep timbre anywhere. the man that dropped your heart on the floor and vanished from the earth before he could watch the aftermath, the man that you never wished to see ever again.

turning around, you find beomgyu.

your phone slips from your hand, clattering against the concrete — but you can’t bring yourself to check if the screen has shattered. instead, yeonjun grabs it for you, rising with it as he anxiously asks if you’re okay. you don’t answer, too busy staring at the man now standing before you. he’s changed; his shorter hair has grown out past his ears, dyed a warm brown, though his black roots are apparent; soft pastel pullovers and light jeans have been swapped out for black slacks and a dark brown leather jacket, clothing choices more mature than when you last saw him. why is he here? you thought he lived in san francisco — you would’ve been less shocked to run into him there, but in seattle? 

“i moved here a few months ago.” shit, did you say that out loud? “i could ask you the same thing.”

“i’m on a trip,” you quickly answer, no further explanation leaving your mouth. 

he nods nonchalantly. you think you see his eyes flit to yeonjun for a second. “cool, cool.” 

“yeah.” why won’t he walk away already? your feet are glued to the cement, jaw tense as you try not to cry. the memory of him texting you that he had left the city and things between you won’t work out come rushing back. why now? how can he show his face to you after all he’s done?

he nods again. “are you here for long?”

“just— just for today.”

“well, i’d love to catch up with you before you leave. i’ve missed you a lot. maybe we could grab dinner tonight?” his smile is soft, hopeful — manipulative, in a way.

“i’m actually pretty busy today,” you begin, but of course, you have no idea how to tell him no. “but maybe if i’m free later.”

“great!” he exclaims, hands now in his trouser pockets. he looks over at yeonjun again, the upward curve of his lips flattening. “i need to get going, but i’ll text you later. you still have my number, right?”

“i think so.”

“cool.” his smile grows excited. “see you later, then.” beomgyu turns to walk away with a confidence in his strut that he didn't have when he lived in new york. when he was dating you. how shameless can he be? soon enough, he disappears into the crowd. blinking, you wonder if that really just happened, turning back toward yeonjun. his jaw is set, eyes still staring at the point where beomgyu vanished. the gray clouds feel suffocating now. the cool air constricts your lungs. you want the cement to open up and swallow you when his hardened eyes turn to you.

“who was that?” yeonjun asks, tone casual, but there’s a…jealous? edge to his question. you’re looking into things too much — there’s no way he’s jealous right now. 

“...my ex,” and it hurts you to admit it. his eyes darken as he utters a soft “oh.” you sigh, “yeah.”

he won’t look at you anymore. why won’t he? you didn’t do anything wrong. you had no control over beomgyu showing up. he purses his lips. “are you gonna meet up with him?”

your head shakes on its own, words escaping before you can think about them. “i don’t know, yeonjun.” 

“okay.” biting his lip, he turns so that he faces the space needle again, stepping away from you. you feel like strangers again, an ocean of distance between you bodies. “yeah, okay.”

*:･

you don’t meet up with beomgyu.

meanwhile, yeonjun is nowhere to be found. after the beomgyu incident, the two of you waited in tense silence for your other friends to return. he then made up some lame excuse to leave, and didn’t turn back when you called his name. you haven’t seen him for the rest of the day, even when you return to the train. he won’t respond to your texts. eventually, you stop sending them; he obviously needs space for whatever reason, so you will give him it. 

the terrible, painful thought of ruining everything you had with him sits in the forefront of your mind, taunting you. the girls try to distract you, showing you silly tiktoks and youtube videos and the like, but you simply offer them a half-hearted huff each time. once you explain what transpired while they were gone, however, their tune changes a bit. 

“y/n, i’m going to be very honest, and i need you not to take it personally,” sakura replies. though your head lays on top of your folded arms, you signal that you are listening with a bob of your head. she continues, “your response wasn’t the best. it probably confused him, and now he doesn’t know if you’re still hung up on this guy or not. if one of his exes came up to him while with you, and he told you he didn’t know if he was going to meet up with them later or not, how would you feel?”

“shitty,” you mumble into your forearm. 

“exactly. so give him space for now, and when he reaches out, explain and apologize. you owe him that much.” sakura sounds just like jennifer — they’d definitely get along. 

“i know. i will.”

the waiter comes around with water, and you order a strong cocktail to go along with your dinner.

day ten.

“has he texted you back yet?” sakura asks for the thousandth time today.

when you shoot her a defeated glare, she gets her answer. no, of course he hasn’t. he hasn’t responded to you since he left. “you said to give him space.”

“yeah, but i didn’t know he’d fall off the face of the earth,” she shoots back. sighing, you tip your head back against the wall next to her bed. a lake passes outside, surrounded by tall grass and trees. small hills rise behind the blue expanse, but you don’t feel the same urge to grab your sketchbook and translate the view onto the page anymore. it’s funny, how easily one person can affect your mood, turn everything upside down with the mere lack of his presence in your life. 

“he just needs time.” chaewon opens a can of soda with a pop! and takes a sip. “maybe it affected him more than we realize.”

“‘cause that makes me feel sooo much better.” sarcasm drips from your voice. “i’m such a fucking idiot.”

there’s a half-day stop in glacier national park tomorrow. will you see him, or is he going to avoid you for the rest of this trip? will you ever see him again? the emotions that swirl within you are reminiscent of how you felt before you met him. that grayness. that sinking sensation festering in your chest that claws it’s way down into your stomach and shreds it apart. you said that you wanted to burn, you wanted it to hurt, but this feels all too fast. too much.

sakura makes a noise in disagreement. “no, it shows that he cares about you. you just have to make sure you clear things up with him, and tell him that you like—”

“if you’re going to tell me that i need to confess my feelings to him, i really don’t think i can do that.”

“why?” chaewon prods. “what’s stopping you? he obviously likes you too.”

beomgyu. beomgyu is the fucking reason why. you can’t bare your heart to someone again, lest you get hurt all over again. after all that has happened, if yeonjun doesn’t reciprocate, it will confirm your worst fears — that you aren’t built to receive love, no matter how hard you try to mold yourself into a person that is deserving. dread churns in your stomach, rises into your throat like bile, acidic and fervid, as thoughts of worst case scenarios where you pour your heart only to hear “sorry, i don’t feel the same way.” you can’t do it. you can’t allow yourself to spiral again. however, you don’t divulge your reasons for holding back, remaining silent as you trace the patterns on the ceiling. 

after a deep, shuddering sigh, you give them a three word explanation: “i don’t know.”

day eleven.

stepping off of the train into fresh air sharpens your dulled senses. the national park is beautiful, for lack of better words; thickets of trees spreading out in all directions as far as the see. the sun is rising over the mountains that stretch high above your head — you’re starting to enjoy this view more than the lifeless skyscrapers that await you back home. the train station looks more like a little lodge than an actual station, but you appreciate its quaint character. reddish-brown wood makes up the majority of the small-scale building. it looks like a place where people would spend the night in, with a warm, cozy fireplace in the wintertime, and wide open windows in the summer to allow the refreshing breeze to waft in.

meandering down the path behind the station into a field of tall grass littered with bunches of tiny, white flowers, you begin to reflect on everything that has happened on this trip. originally, you went on this stupid trip with the goal to find inspiration, and last night you had a very important realization: yeonjun is that something — you started drawing again because of him, you started looking on the bright side of things because of him, and most important of all, you fell for him. you didn’t just fall for him in the way an artist falls for their muse, no. you fell for him as a person. getting to know him has been one of the best parts of your trip, but now all of that has gone down the drain because yeonjun hasn’t responded to you in over twenty-four hours and you have not a clue what to do to try to make things right. if he doesn’t wish to speak to you, then that’s that. it’s over. whatever momentum this fleeting relationship had has been effectively pummeled into the dust that would blow away with even the gentlest of breezes. 

you wish you could appreciate this view more. your paints sit in your backpack back in your room, out of sight so that you don’t have to think about them, nor hear their pleas to be used. although you now know why you lack the drive to paint and draw and generally create once again, no clear-cut solution to your problem comes to mind. instead, you wander through the grass towards a large, squatty boulder, climb on top of it, and plop down. your knees curl up towards your chest while your arms wrap around them, fingers tracing random patterns against your shins. fatigue solidifies in your bones, but the tranquility of the early morning the quiet tucks a blanket of peace over your body, swaddling the edges around you, cocooning you in.

you sit there, taking in the sounds and sights of nature, for hours. the chirping of birds sings a melody over the whisper of trees in the breeze. a deer leaps across the open field, disappearing into the trees, her fawn following close behind. bighorn sheep graze in the distance, their circular horns reminding you of cornucopias. 

the rustle of trees and grass obscure the sound of approaching footsteps from your ears. it’s not until yeonjun begins to climb onto the boulder that you notice him. you hug your legs tighter to your body as he sits next to you, but not too close. an invisible wall separates you. he does not look remotely near your direction, his focus far out in the trees. staring at him, you wonder what to say. i’m sorry? i have feelings for you?

“i never met up with him.”

he still doesn’t spare you a glance. assuming he wants you to continue, you do. “i don’t know why i said what i said, but it was shitty of me to put you in that position, and i wanted to say that i’m sorry. i was just shocked, i guess. to see him. he ruined my perception of a lot of things, jjun.” jjun. that’s a new one. you are quite unsure where it came from, it slipped out before you could think. no matter, he’s looking at you now, and it’s your turn to look out towards the horizon. “trust, commitment, love…”

his gaze burns into your temple. you take a deep breath, fingers clenching the fabric of your jeans. “they’ve all been ruined for me. it’s hard for me to trust anyone after what he did. i’m terrified that the people i grow close to will wake up one day and leave me without a word. i’m scared that i’ll never get the closure i deserve when they do. worst of all, i’ve stopped believing that love is in the cards for me, like there has to be something wrong with me for him to have left me like that—”

“don’t. don’t you dare say that about yourself.” whipping your head around, you finally meet eyes for the first time in nearly two days. they aren't soft like they usually are when they look at you, but hardened, guarded. “there’s nothing wrong with you. you have every right to be hurt, and he’s honestly a piece of shit for doing that to you, but it’s unfair to assume that everyone that comes after him will be just like him.”

“i know, and i’m sorry. i know you’re not like him.” he doesn’t respond, and you begin to chew at the inside of your cheek. you watch an ant crawl its way across the rock beneath you. the small insect disappears over the edge. 

silence. you begin to count the seconds. one, two, three, four—

“i’m sorry for not texting you back. i just needed time to think about things. a lot of things,” he starts. “i felt weird, for some reason. didn’t know how to talk to you about it.”

you offer him a tight-lipped smile. “no, i understand. i forgive you.”

important words remain unspoken, but both of you refuse to address them. instead, his hand finds yours, he links your fingers with his, and both of you peacefully watch the sheep graze across the field.

day twelve.

not everything is fixed yet. 

despite being on speaking terms again, strain pulls your relationship taut. the unspoken words from yesterday hang heavy in the air, but you can’t bring yourself to give them a voice. you want to. your voice won’t work every time you try.

sitting next to yeonjun on his bed, you scroll through various forms of social media, bookmarking work that you find particularly interesting in between catching up on your friends’ posts. jennifer has been thoroughly caught up on what’s been going on after a long overdue apology for not responding to her texts. she understood, of course she did. she’s known you long enough to know how you can shut down whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed. 

“i’m proud of you for telling him. i know it’s hard for you to share, honey,” she cooed to you over the phone last night. “but you need to tell him how you feel before it’s too late.”

you know that. you know damn well that once you get off this train, it may all fall apart, a budding romance distinguished by reality. there’s no security, no safety net for you to fall into if you take the leap, and while he showed you an inkling of how he felt yesterday, who’s to say he’ll feel that way tomorrow? the next day? are you willing to tear your heart open for him to consume if there’s still a chance of him throwing it away when all is said and done? 

you don’t know the answer to that question. honestly, you don’t know the answer to a lot of those questions, stuck in this state of self-imposed purgatory. to rise or fall, what is the best choice? you don’t fucking know.

“is that yours?” he asks from over your shoulder, at a ceramic piece in your feed made by one of jennifer’s acquaintances. his breath snakes warmly over the expanse of your neck due to his proximity, his head so close you could turn and just kiss him— 

stop it. 

“oh, no. um.” you shift away from him slightly. distance. some distance feels more comfortable right now. “i don’t sculpt. i just paint, and draw.”

he makes an ahhh of understanding, leaning back onto his palms, the mattress sinking down with his weight. he’s staring at you like he expects something from you. what shall you give him? when you don’t say anything further, he does. 

“can i see some of yours, then?” it’s an innocent enough request. rather than simply press on your account, your fingers move on their own until you reach your gallery. why? are you really about to bare your soul to him? you guess so, because he’s gently taking your phone from your fingers after gaining quiet permission from you. 

he asks you questions as he pulls up certain pieces. the thought process behind each one, what made you do this, place that color there, how you came up with the composition, what the meaning of it all is. you try your best to explain each one. sometimes, your choices were the product of spontaneity. you thought yellow would look nice at that spot, so you put some there. her nose is crooked because it gives the piece more character. the color of the drapes in the background are blue for no particular reason other than the fact that your reference photo had blue drapes. you continue in a cycle of question, answer, question, answer, and some of your answers are more emotional than others. you remember where you were, both physically and mentally, when making all of these. you remember the ones you made when you were having a bad day, the ones where you felt like you were on the top of the world. 

then, he pulls up one that you wish he didn’t. it was buried so deep into your gallery that you have no idea how he found it — your most dreaded hyperrealism piece: a woman lays on her back, hair fading into the foreboding, void-like background. her face is twisted up into an abject sadness, a deep-seated pain that even now, you have no idea how you captured so vividly. her veiny left hand is splayed next to her head, thin crimson threads tied to each finger so tight that she has begun to bleed. the strings fall limp beside her, severed from their counterparts that meander off of the canvas. more red threads loop their way around her neck, pulled taut as if to choke her — and to her throat, she holds a pair of sharp-pointed scissors, hand gripping the metal tight enough to pale her knuckles. 

it’s dark. it’s terribly dark and you wish he never saw it. why did he have to see it? why did he have to choose that one? the world tilts on its axis as he stares down at the picture of your most soul-baring work, though you think it would be worse if he saw the actual painting in person.

“what’s the story behind this one?” he asks quietly. your lungs expel all air, and you’re left gaping for more. breathe, come on, you have to breathe. your inhale is shaky, shuddered. breathe. say something.

“that one…” your voice trails off into something quiet. scared. “i made it when i was in a really— really dark place mentally, um. i made it mostly because—”

he’s looking at you now, concern shining in his irises, but you push on. 

“because i stopped believing in fate.”

while you could say more, you stop yourself there. you hate digging — digging into your deepest fears and emotions that you keep locked behind a wall so that you never have to feel them. a pandora’s box sits in the center of your heart, wrapped with chains to keep them imprisoned. somehow, though, you think yeonjun knows what you really want to say: you meeting each other wasn’t fate to you, but a gross series of coincidences, and when he asks if you think so, you simply nod.

“but out of everyone on this train, i met you. i got to know you — shouldn’t that mean something? can’t that be considered fate?” he presses. something akin to desperation laces his words, an urgency you’ve never heard from him. 

it sure feels like fate, doesn’t it? after all of those times that you ran into him, how he found you in the observation car when it was just you in there, how your feelings have unfolded like taking apart a paper crane in the short nine days you have known each other — it feels like it should be fate, you want to admit that all of it does seem like the universe’s divine intervention. maybe you running away was really just you trying to deny your fate to meet yeonjun while on this train. maybe him finding you was fate, an apology from whatever is above for what they put you through a year and a half ago.

“i think—” you hesitate. “i think so. it’s hard for it not to when i feel like i’ve known you my entire life.”

and you sit there and he’s smiling at you like you just created the earth with your bare hands. chicago passes outside the window. the sun shines high in the sky over the high rises, glints across glass panes and into his room. all you have is one more day on this train, and most of it will be spent sleeping tonight. he’ll wait for you tomorrow, right? would he wait for you forever?

“you know, i tell most people that my name is daniel.”

tilting your head, you echo, “daniel?” 

he hums as he scoots a bit closer, planting his feet on the floor next to yours and leaning forward. his knees support his elbows as he stares down at the floor. “it’s my english name. i used it when i was in college, i use it for my work, but for some reason, when i met you, my actual name, my given name, came out instead. call me silly, but i think my heart knew you’d become someone special to me. i wanted you to use my actual name — the one my parents call me. the one my closest friends call me.”

“oh.” why does your chest feel so tight right now? 

he sucks his lips behind his teeth for a moment. “yeah.”

sitting there, you wonder how you should respond to that. words expelled like an exhale of air, colliding with each other in front of your eyes, unable to be unscrambled by your mind. this time, it’s you who reaches over, closing the distance between you with a hand over his. his palm flips open to meet your own, your fingers linking together like matching puzzle pieces. you take a deep breath, and squeeze. 

“thank you,” you whisper. thank you for being here. thank you for helping me find myself again.

day twelve (point five). 

“i’m gonna miss you guys so much!” 

chaewon is basically on the verge of tears at this point, constantly blubbering how she is going to miss hanging out with you every day as she pulls you and sakura in for a hug over and over again. sakura laughs as she pulls away for the thousandth time this afternoon. “girl, it’s gonna be okay. we’re gonna meet up for coffee soon, right?”

she looks towards you, and you give an enthusiastic nod. “right. i’ll invite my friend too. she said she’d love to meet you guys.” 

chaewon’s pout doesn’t vanish, but she looks a little less emotional after all of your reassurances. blinking back the remnants of her tears, she nods with a watery “okay.”

you bring her in for one more hug while sakura asks, “have you seen him yet?” 

“no, i haven’t heard from him since last night.” your teeth worry your bottom lip, peeling a piece of raised skin off. the sensation stings. 

her lips purse sympathetically, a hand being placed on your shoulder. “i doubt he’d leave without saying something to you, don’t worry. he has to be around here somewhere.”

“yeah, you’re probably right.” as chaewon pulls away, you check your phone again. no texts or calls yet. doubt ricochets around in your brain, but you know yeonjun; he wouldn’t do that to you. 

“i’d love to wait with you, but my manufacturer is pissed i didn’t call them back yesterday, so i should get going,” sakura admits with an apologetic smile. her fingers squeeze your shoulder one time before her arm drops back to her side. 

“i should go too,” chaewon sadly adds, kicked puppy eyes in full effect. “my cat is waiting for me. my friend said she was a little demon the whole time i was gone.”

“it’s okay,” you laugh, shooing them away jokingly. “you guys can go. i’ll be fine.” 

with a last group hug, they grab their suitcases and head towards the hallway that connects the train station to the subway lines. sakura twirls around, walking backwards as she calls, “keep us updated! we need to know everything,”

“of course!” you yell back, grin widening. chaewon turns back too to wave, and you wave back. eventually, the crowd swallows them up, and you are left alone to wait. a few minutes pass, and you realize that this sea of people will likely make it impossible for either of you to find each other. his contact is pulled up on your phone, your thumb hovering the call button. you look around one more time—

and he’s standing right there, mere feet in front of you, in all of his glory, long hair still flopping into his face, eyes still dreamy and all-consuming. you stand there for a moment, simply staring at each other with stupid, goofy grins overtaking your faces. long legs carry him over to you, and before you know it, you’re wrapped up in his arms and pulled into his strong chest. you bury your head into the side of his neck, inhaling the scent of his cologne.

“thank god,” he murmurs into the crown of your head. “i thought you might have left already.”

pulling back, you fix him with an incredulous stare. “what in the world made you think that? i was waiting for you.”

his ears tint an opaque red, the raised apples of his cheeks flushed a similar hue. he’s bewitching, and despite knowing that since the very first day — the day that you drew him for the first time — there’s so much more to him than looks to you now. he’s beautiful in both body and soul, in heart and head. one hand removes itself from your middle to cup your jaw, steadying your gaze with yours. your heart pounds, knees weak like a newborn doe’s as he stares deep into your eyes. blinding are the emotions swirling in his dark irises, but it doesn’t burn anymore. it’s more like the caress of the sun in the springtime, bright yet gentle in its own right. 

“this feels long overdue for me to say,” he begins, eyes closing as if to steel himself. when he opens them again, resolve has been added to the mix. “but i have feelings for you. i’ve never fallen for someone so quickly. i’ve never met someone like you, and i just— i knew, from the very day that i saw you, that we’d have something to do with each other. and then we kept running into each other, and i just thought wow, this has to be—”

“yeonjun,” you call, interrupting his ramblings. he pauses, eyes wide and anticipatory, as your hand moves up to cover his on your jaw. you can’t help the tremble in your lips as you speak. “i feel the same way.”

his lips purse, hiding a smile, before he surges forward and embraces you for a second time. the pure, unadulterated joy that the action brings you is like nothing you’ve ever felt before, and you’re almost…sad, when he pulls away.

“can i take you out on a date?”

the question throws you off kilter, and you have to catch yourself before you fall face first into his chest. “like, right now? with our suitcases and everything?”

“i’ve done much worse,” he chuckles, ruffling his hair, only for the locks to fall back down into his eyes. “but i meant later today, maybe? around six? i have to go take care of some things i neglected before i left.” 

“that sounds wonderful,” you gush. despite your best efforts in keeping your excitement to a minimum, you bounce up onto your toes for second, heels sinking back onto the floor. you swear he mumbles a quiet “cute” under his breath before he’s slipping his hand into yours.

“perfect,” he beams, before he playfully continues. “shall we be off to the subway then, my lady?”

giggling, you fall into step next to him, your arm swinging with his between you. “we shall.”

*:･

he’s right on time to pick you up, dressed casually but not too casually. a cool beige, short-sleeved button-up is tucked into a pair of straight-legged black jeans that stop at his waist. the chunky converse on his feet cause him to be a bit taller than usual. evidently, he is distracted by his phone, head ducked down as he waits for you to show up.

“yeonjun!” you call out, causing his head to snap up. once he does, you find that he’s somewhat styled his hair back — most of it has been swooped back towards his ears. a few strands fall into his face, but his forehead is fully exposed, and he looks…amazing. sometimes, you wish you were a poet instead, because then you’d have the words describe what you were feeling, what you were seeing. his jaw drops at the sight of you, dolled up in a jean skirt and frilly tank top over a thin long sleeve, your makeup soft and flattering to your features. 

“hi,” he breathes, and you repeat the greeting back to him. “you look…wow.”

“thanks,” you, biting your glossy lip. as his focus flits down to where your teeth dig into the soft flesh, you shyly smile, releasing it. a shock runs through you, new and carnal and it warms your stomach when he bites down on his own lip for a split second. “um, i know we didn’t really talk about where we were going to go, but there’s a thai place down the street from here, if you wanna go there? it’s my favorite.”

“of course,” he accepts, offering his arm to you. you loop your own through, standing close to him with your fingers pressing into the crook of his elbow. “lead the way.”

now that neither of you feel the need to skirt around your feelings, silence no longer lingers between pauses in conversation — both of you are able to pick it back up with ease. you meant it when you said that you feel like you’ve known him your whole life, and it reflects in the way you banter with him without worry or care. it’s…nice, freeing, not having to think too hard about what you’re about to say. natural. everything with him feels so natural. 

when both of you are sated, in both terms of food and conversation, he offers to walk you back to your apartment. the sun is beginning to set, and the sky has faded into a wash of rosy pink. the hue reflects the giddy feeling churning in your chest, rendering you light-headed and dizzy and fuck you just want to kiss him—

and he does. standing in front of your apartment building, he swoops down and captures your lips with his. slow, unhurried, his lips taste sweet like thai tea and are as soft as clouds. no one leads the other, no one moves to deepen the kiss. no, instead, you and yeonjun savor the taste of each other, the syrupy, vertiginous feeling of your first kiss together. when he pulls away, his lips have a slightly swollen quality to them, though you’re sure own look the same. you don’t want him to leave yet. you want more, you want something carnal and irrepressible that, by the way he’s looking at you, he wants too. playing with the locks of hair at the nape of his neck, you pant against his lips. “come inside with me, please?”

soft eyes darken, and he takes your breath away once more with another kiss, hands squeezing your waist. once he separates your lips from his, he rests his forehead against yours. nerves flutter in your stomach. “okay.” 

you find it terribly difficult to keep your hands off of him as you unlock your door, as it shuts behind you. for a minute, you stand there, waiting for something, anything to happen — then he’s crowding you in against your door and his lips are on your again. although there remains an air of softness, urgency fills the gaps where your lips don’t quite meet as they meld together, his tongue slipping into your mouth to curl with your own. your shoulder blades press into the cool wood of your door, the warmth of his body against your front a dizzying contrast to your scattered mind — but you want more. you want him.

when he slips a knee between your legs and knocks them apart, you let him. when he presses that knee into your core, encourages you to grind against it, you let him, you listen. whining into his mouth, you tug at his shirt, at his belt loops, his hair — anything you can get your hands on, you’re pulling at it, grinding down harder as his jeans rub your soaked panties against your aching pearl. a cry rips itself from your throat, mouth leaving as your head is thrown back against the door. “y-yeonjun—”

“patience, love. i’m gonna make you feel good,” he mumbles as he ravages your neck, nipping and sucking at the soft skin. his hands have snuck beneath your shirt and smooth over your stomach up to the cups of your bra, squeezing the flesh over the fabric. as you raise you arms, he helps you pull your top off, the article thrown onto the floor without ceremony or care. his hands loop behind your back, fiddling with your bra clasp. “can i?”

“please,” you keen, and he wastes no time in doing so, expert fingers sliding the straps down your arms until your bra, too, lays on the floor. lips find your right nipple, enveloping the pebbled flesh in a warm wetness that causes your back to arch into him. one hand pulls you into him, while the other tweaks your other tit. his teeth graze it, and the stinging edge of painful pleasure causes you to shiver. he hums, vibrations causing you to moan his name louder, plead for him to do more. leaving your breast, his mouth kisses and laps at the skin of your stomach. down, down, down, until he drops to his knees in front of you, swiftly unzipping your skirt and pulling it off of you. lips find your thighs, biting down lightly, and you squeak, hand finding his hair and pulling. he looks up at your through his lashes, absolutely depraved and almost drooling for more. you gulp, legs almost giving out under you as you smooth your hand over his hair, pushing the strands that have fallen into his face back. “can we— can we move to the bed?”

immediately, he stands, pulling you behind him before he’s placing you onto the edge of your bed with great care. before he can fall to his knees again, you curl your shaking fingers into his shirt. “take this off? i wanna see you.”

with a huff of a chuckle, he does as you ask, revealing a toned stomach, broad shoulders, muscled arms. your tongue darts across your lips as you drink him in, causing him to smirk. “like what you see, pretty?”

“y-yes,” you stutter out, quiet and wanting and full of lecherous need. your thighs attempt to squeeze together in order to provide some relief to your pulsating core, but his legs stop them from fully closing. his fingers find your jaw, squeezing the flesh. your cheeks heat up. 

“so fucking cute.” the praise sends a white hot streak through your stomach and into your center. your face is on absolute fire now, vision growing hazy around the edges as you watch him sink down between your thighs, your panties quickly discarded to reveal your center to his eyes. two fingers trace your folds before dipping beneath them to find your entrance. his eyes widen at what he finds, fingers coming back up coated in your wetness, glinting against his fingertips and knuckles in the light streaming in through your windows. “you’re so wet, baby. this all for me? a little kissing got you this needy?”

“mhm— oh,” you gasp when he brings the fingers to his mouth, sucking on them lewdly as he refuses to tear his gaze from yours. he moans at your taste, hot tongue swiping up the remnants that accidentally smeared onto the corner of his lips once he removes his fingers. his smirk returns, hands sliding under your ass to pull you closer to the edge of the bed, closer to his mouth. you sit up on your elbows to watch him kiss his way up your inner thigh, hands holding you open for him. there’s nowhere for you to hide, as he traces your folds with his tongue, dipping into your entrance and swiping up to your clit. crying out, your fingers find his hair in an ironclad grip. he groans against your pearl, your hips bucking up into his face before his arms snake around each thigh and hold you still. he alternates between circling the bud with his tongue and sucking it between his plush lips, spit pooling at the corners of his mouth as he loses himself in your taste. meanwhile, you’re already so close to the edge, you can feel your walls begin to clench around nothing, your hips jumping up as far as he allows. as he dips down to your entrance, his nose bumps against your clit, but his tongue is back in no time to continue its assault on your poor little clit. “jjun, ‘m gonna, please, ‘m gonna—”

“cum,” he mumbles against you. “cum f’me, pretty girl.”

with his permission, your head falls onto your sheets, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your vision spots white. cries pour from your lips like honey for him to drink, but you never quite come down fully. rather, he keeps circling his tongue against your clit through your high, and as your orgasm subsides, another one already begins to build. tears prick your eyes as you plead, “jjun, no, can’t, i can’t, nonono— i can’t!”

“yes, you can,” he murmurs, removing his arm from your right thigh. his lips don’t leave your clit as you feel two fingers slip into your soaked entrance, smoothly thrusting in and out and curling up into your upper wall until he finds that soft spot inside you that has your voice shattering into shards of moans and staccato wails. he groans against you as he feels your walls clench, the pace of his fingers unforgiving as he coaxes another mind-shattering orgasm from your body. your fingers flutter around his walls, watery hiccups torn from your throat. this time, he slows down, helps you ride out your high, before he removes his fingers, licking his lips of your essence as he does. climbing onto the bed, he hovers over you, taking in your spit-slick lips and tear-lined eyes. he wipes the tears away with gentle motions, cooing when you whine. he sits there until you come back to him, lucidity shining in your eyes as you blink them open. smiling, you pull him in for a languid kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue before he pulls away. 

when he caresses your cheek with his thumb, asking you if you’re okay, you lean into his touch, “mhm, want you to fuck me.”

“i can do that,” he laughs, causing you to reciprocate. standing, he slips his jeans and boxers down his thighs until he’s left in nothing, hardened cock veiny and flushed an angry red. you think it’s an average length, on the thicker side, the girth causing your mouth to water. as he runs his hands up your thighs, he asks, “d’you have any condoms, love?”

while you’d rather him fuck you raw, you know it’s safer this way. you point towards your nightstand. “there.”

as he fetches one, you scoot into the middle of the bed, watching him roll it on before he returns between your thighs, pumping his cock once, twice, lining it up with your entrance. his free hand grips your waist, watching as you move your hips to try to slide him into you. smirking, he presses his hips forward, cockhead dipping past your entrance. both of you moan at the sensation. slowly, he works his cock into you, little rolls of his hips until he’s seated fully within you, hips flush against your pelvis. 

“move,” you whine. “please move.” and that’s all it takes for him to swiftly pull out and slide back in again. as he thrusts into you again and again, his movements grow rougher, the tip of his cock brushing against your g-spot each time. moaning, you reach up towards him, forcing him to lean over you so you can kiss him again, swallowing each other’s sounds. he’s just as loud as you, praises falling naturally between his breathy moans. 

“feel s’good, baby. so fuckin’ tight and wet f’me. so unreal. d’you feel good, too?” he coos against the shell of your ear, warm breath curling against your necks. your walls clench around him at his desperate sounds.

“s-so good, jjunie,” you hum, feeling your third high of the night approaching. the knot in your stomach grows tighter as his thrusts grow sloppy, chasing his high as much as you are. a thumb moves down to rub your sensitive clit, quick little circles against the bud until your limbs are locking up, quaking as you finally cum around him. a few seconds later, his high hits him as well, his hips quivering as he spills into the rubber with a loud groan. 

slowly, he pulls out, ridding himself of the condom and soon returning to the bed to plop down next to you. arms pull you in close as you both pant and grin tiredly at each other, basking in the quiet that permeates the air, and he stares at you, dulcet eyes boring into yours. 

“what’re you thinking about?” you decide to ask, poking the center of his sweat-beaded forehead. taking a moment to respond, he pulls you even closer so that your noses almost touch. 

“it’s just— there’s this concept in korean — inyeon,” the timbre of his voice raises slightly as he switches to his native tongue, and lowers again when he switches back to english. “that, um, it means…”

his cheeks are growing the slightest bit pink, a shade that reflects the cotton candy clouds that float past your windows. squeezing his hand, you silently urge him to continue, soft gaze finding his own. a gentle kiss pressed to his cheek, his jaw, naked skin pressed against naked skin. together, whole, one.

he starts again, “there’s no direct translation, but it basically is fate. strings of fate. i truly believe the universe has connected us in some way, whether it be through some invisible red string or another force. and i know, i know what you said about fate, but i can’t stop thinking about how we found each other. there’s something beautiful about starting off as strangers and getting here. i don’t know, i’m just rambling at this point,” he chuckles, burying his nose into the pillow under his head. “i’ve just never felt this way about someone before. i’m sorry.”

with a gentle hand, you cup the side of his face, forcing him to look back at you. “don’t be sorry, that’s beautiful, and i think—” you sigh, blinking back tears that threaten to fall. “i think you’ve changed my mind about fate. i’ve also never felt this way about someone before. i feel like you know me on some level that no one else does. you just. you just get it, and i—” 

you don’t think this is quite love yet, but you believe what you’re feeling within your chest, tingling all over your body, is as close as you’ve ever gotten to it. he smiles, whispers a small, soft, “i know,” and lips find lips once more. hands find hands, and you feel alive. you feel like everything that you see is now in vivid technicolor, no longer masked by a veil of gray.

and when you wake up tomorrow, you think that you’re going to start a new painting.

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[niki-phoria]

Hii !! Can you do a Yeonjun x gn reader where yeonjun wakes up in the middle of the night bc of a coughing attack, and you comfort him bc he started crying cause he thought he was going to die >_< ( It’s actually based on true events tho, he catched a cold recently and he said all that, even that he couldn’t talk well bc he was coughing so much, so I really wanted to take care of him and give him a hug after he said that so I had this idea and found your blog hehe) Take your time and please take care, thank you so much <3333

⋆｡°✩ choi line reaction - taking care of them when they're sick

includes: established relationship, yeonjun cries kinda, samgteyang is a chicken soup, gen sickfic warnings lol

a/n: thank you for requesting !! i hope you like it :))

gn reader (no pronouns used)

⋆｡°✩ yeonjun

(word count 237)

you stir awake from the noise of incessant coughing piercing through the previous silence lingering in your bedroom. slightly annoyed, you sit up, squinting into the darkness. 

just barely illuminated by the moonlight you can see yeonjun sitting up in your shared bed, body hunched over from a coughing fit. “jun?” you whisper, now fully awake. tears sting at the corners of his eyes as he takes in short breaths between coughs. 

you reach up to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb against his skin. you wipe away the stray tears that escape his eyes, checking him over as well as you can in the darkness. “are you okay?”

“‘m fine,” he rasps out. 

you furrow your eyebrows, leaning over to press a kiss against the crown of yeonjun’s forehead before momentarily slipping out from underneath the covers to grab him a glass of water. he accepts it with a grateful smile as you slide back beside him. 

yeonjun is quick to follow your lead, setting the glass down before leaning over to rest his head against your chest. you brush your hands through his soft hair, occasionally twisting the strands between your fingers. 

yeonjun lets out a small sigh of content as he nuzzles even closer to you so he can hear your heartbeat. “get some rest, love,” you whisper. his breathing slowly begins to even out until he eventually falls into a now peaceful sleep.

⋆｡°✩ soobin

(word count 212)

soobin sniffles as he nuzzles his head a little closer to you; hiding his face into the crook of your neck. his arms wrap lazily around your waist, keeping your bodies nearly pressed together at all times despite the inconvenience and his overall sickness. 

“bin,” you murmur, eyes still focused on cutting up a carrot to add into the samgyetang boiling on the stove. your boyfriend barely hums in response. his eyes remain closed as he leans his body weight against you. “you should go sit down. you need rest.”

he simply whines, nuzzling even closer. “i need you.”

you smile to yourself as you carefully step over to the stove to add the carrots to the broth with your boyfriend in tow. the aroma of boiled chicken and various spices spread throughout your shared apartment. it’s almost comforting to take care of soobin. intimate. 

turning the heat down to let the soup simmer, you twist around to face him. the blanket you had gingerly wrapped around his shoulders earlier that morning has now slipped down his body so it barely covers his torso. you reach up to readjust it before wrapping an arm around his waist. 

“come on,” you murmur. “the samgyetang needs time to boil. let’s go get some rest.”

⋆｡°✩ beomgyu

(word count 238) i'm obsessed with him here he's so kdfndslknds

“y/n?” beomgyu rasps out as he stumbles through your shared apartment. you can hear his footsteps as he slowly approaches, using the wall to support his body. 

“gyu,” you leave the kettle on the stove to boil as you rush to his side. beomgyu immediately drapes his body against yours, letting you hold him up. you wrap an arm around his waist, carefully coaxing him to move over and lay down on your couch. “what are you doing up?”

“you were gone,” beomgyu mumbles. he shifts so his body is nearly entirely on top of yours; knees pressed against either side of your hips to pin you in place. you chuckle as he leans down to rest his head in the crook of your neck.

“i went to make you some tea.” you slip your hand underneath his shirt, gently rubbing it against his overly warm skin. beomgyu presses a kiss against the exposed skin of your neck in return. you can almost feel him smiling against you. “how’s your throat feeling?”

“a little better,” he whispers. you softly smile, pulling him even closer so his body is fully relaxed against you. 

“good.” you push his fringe back just enough to press a kiss against the crown of his head. “i’ll let you know when the tea is done and then we can make some samgyetang, okay?”

“okay,” beomgyu whispers. “i love you.”

“i love you too.”

[buttersmama]

TRAIN RIDE new ver. (PLEASE READ THIS ONE)

Choi yeonjun x m!reader

Synopsis: you lost your memory after an accident and while traveling back home you met a stranger is he a stranger though.

Or

Yeonjun hurting because you lost your memories about him and his love.

Tw: angst(?)

Word count: 1.3k

I was traveling back home, after i found out what it was, where it was. My family told me they'd pick me up at the station. The ride was unusually long though.

A stranger sat beside me. Eyes glistening with tears. I don't know why but he felt warm. Like home? I almost leaned in towards him until I didn't. Thought he'd need some space.

Almost half an hour passes by, we still haven't said a word to each other. I'm itching to say something. Why though. Why is this guy not like some random stranger that ill forget in a few days after departing the train.

Why do i know I'll still remember him even after years when I'll have kids and be all wrinkly. Oh? The guy fell asleep. He looks cute- wait what. His head slipped on my shoulder! What am i supposed to do in this cliche situation?!

I should be calm and try not to move, he must be tired. Holy shit why is my heart beating so loud? Can he hear it? His hair is tickling me a little, it smells nice too. He's comfortable, i notice when he nuzzles his head into me. I'll get some sleep too.

It's warm. Somebody kissed me on my forehead. It was my seatmate- the 'stranger'. I should ask him why.

"I'm sorry you had to forget but I'll always remember you, my love"

I don't know why suddenly my heart felt heavy- empty even. He had left the train standing on the platform, something came over me. I jumped out of my seat trying to get off the train in time.

Seems like luck is never on my side. The doors closed. An unfamiliar name.

"Jun!" I shouted. He looks over. By the time he heard it, the train started moveing. He ran along it trying to catch up not wanting to let go. The train didn't stop though insted it picked up pace.

He stopped running along mouthing a 'im sorry' to me.

And just like that he was gone.

I love yj sm <3

[ihavethedreamies]

Pool Boy (5) | Beomgyu

Choi Beomgyu - TXT

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.7k o-O

Pairing: Beomgyu x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Smut, Porn with very little Plot

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Small Age Difference (Unspecified, he calls her Noona), Pet Names (Love, Lovely, Baby Girl, Noona, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving/Anal), Deepthroating/Face-Fucking, Sex Toys - Butt Plugs, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Semi-Public Sex (at work but no one else is there), Unprotected Vaginal Sex (Use a condom! She's on the pill)

Summary: After you had been flirting with Beomgyu for a while, you decide to go for it despite his more…unique tastes. Luckily, the pool closes early.

Uh…Just utter filth, honestly. Beomgyu is a bit kinky.

Author's Note: This originally was going to be part of a really long series with a lot of plot, but it was taking too long and I was putting too much plot, more than I had initially planned. Because of that, I cut nearly all plot out and it's still four-thousands words of just fucking so…

None of the parts are reliant on the others, there is just a version for each boy.

-> Yeonjun <-

-> Taehyun <-

-> Soobin <-

-> Hueningkai <-

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"Did you do what I asked?" Beomgyu smirked at you, his eyes playful as he looked up at you through the curtain of his bangs. He had been playing on his phone as you two talked. You had been flirting back and forth every day for nearly two weeks. When you brought up going past the make out sessions you had at the end of the day, he got very mischievous.

"Think you can handle what I like, lovely?" He smirked.

"What is it?" You smirked back, and the hands he had on your butt dug in, a meandering finger pressing between your cheeks. You gasped and pulled back. He looked a bit unsure, but you licked your lips and nodded.

"Tell me what I do."

That night he had sent you a screenshot of a certain product.

"When are you thinking?"

"Not till tonight."

"Tonight?" Beomgyu had left the chair, placing himself between your legs. His hands both rested on the back of your stool, caging you in…why did he smell so good? Did he always?

"Can you wait that long?" He nibbled your ear lobe, then licked along the rook of your ear. Your cunt clenched.

"You're eager." You teased and he huffed, pulling back.

"Too much?" His tone had shifted, and he looked a little nervous.

"No, Gyu. You only work the first shift, right?" You rested your hands on his shoulder, playing with the ends of his hair.

"Yeah…plus, I'm excited." He mumbled and turned a bit red.

"It's okay-" You assured, but your phone went off before you could continue. You reluctantly let each other go and picked it up. It was the boss.

"So there's this festival at the elementary school…" She immediately began.

"Yep."

"Why don't we close after lunch, there is like no one at the other places?" She suggested and you looked out toward the pool area. It was just the two women and another that had come alone.

"Okay, I can do that."

"Tell everyone they will still get paid. I can call the second shift. Thanks, (Y/N)!" She immediately hung up.

"Can you go tell everyone?" you asked him, heading to the back office. He dashed off to do so, and you got a piece of paper and tape and made a temporary sign that the pool was closed for the day. The women were willing to leave early, and the employees definitely were as well. It seemed the odds were in your two's favor. For about five minutes, you two sat in silence, making sure no one else came. Not even anyone walked by with their dog.

"Come here, noona!" Beomgyu pulled you back to him from where you were standing by the counter. You giggled as he groaned, pulling your hair to the side so he could mouth at your shoulder.

"No marks!" You enforced, then gasped when his hands cupped your breasts.

"Fine." His hands continued to wander, one sneaking under your shirt and bra to pinch at your nipple, the other finding the button of your shorts.

"Wait, wait!" You stopped him, leaning forward to pull the shutter closed.

"I need to lock up!" Beomgyu reluctantly let you go, your tank still messed up, bra strap dangling down your shoulder, and your button undone. You locked the gates first, then the doors to outside. The one leading to the snack and drink bars usually stayed open even when the pool was closed, but you shut it too. You opened the door to the back office, and you hoped the cool air would circulate through, and that the doors being shut would block some noise. Not knowing what Beomgyu had planned, you wanted to be prepared. Though, the…cleaning kit he had suggested you get was kind of a giveaway. You kicked your sandals off and he was on you. His lips sealed over yours, swallowing your gasp, and his tongue immediately invaded. You were expecting him to be a little inexperienced, sloppy maybe in haste, but no. He might have been the best you had ever had the pleasure of kissing. You whined when he hauled you closer, having to tiptoe a bit to get the best angle. Your hands wandered him, sliding up under his shirt and rubbing the soft skin of his back. As he pulled away from the kiss, he bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, then immediately laid searing open mouth kisses down to your neck. He smirked against your throat, his left hand wiggling under the waistband of your shorts. The hand also slipped past your panties and his hand gripped the flesh of your ass hard. You hummed in delight, his rapidly hardening cock pressed to your stomach. As his left hand palmed your behind, his right fiddled with your bra. It seemed he wanted to be cool and snap it open one-handed but was having trouble. He even stopped kissing your skin to focus and he cheered like a kid when he got it off. You giggled a bit, then stumbled when he pulled away fast, helping you yank your shirt up and off. If he was going to be hasty, so were you. You stripped him of his shirt just as fast and he groaned when your tongue ran over his collarbone. He chuckled as your kisses ran over his chest and down his stomach as you sunk to your knees.

"Shorts. Off." He nudged your clothed cunt with his toe, smiling when you grinded against the top of his shoe.

"I will if you do." You smirked. He stepped back and so you stood up and you let your shorts and panties fall, stepping back up to him. Beomgyu groaned watching as your fingers flew to his pants and undoing them. You had to remove his belt; the device necessary to keep his pants on due to him being so slim with such long legs. His pants fell as well, and he sighed in relief. While his underwear was still on, they were just boxers and loose. How did you get so freaking lucky that he looked like that and had a nice dick.

"How wet are you, lovely?" His long fingers stroked through your slick folds which made him groan.

"Fuck, get on the table." He suddenly got more aggressive, and it was…hot. He grabbed your arm, not hard, to lead you over. When you moved to sit on it, he tutted, spinning you. Beomgyu pushed you to fall on your chest on the surface and you didn't even have time to turn and look before his tongue was in your cunt.

"Fuck." You grunted, then whined. His tongue was skilled for sure. He was a great kisser, and he was devouring your cunt, making your legs twitch already. You noticed him grab the strap of his bag from the chair to your left and haul it to him. He rustled a bit and you yelped when his hands gripped your ass cheeks and spread you open.

"B-Beomgyu!" You shivered, feeling incredibly embarrassed. While you knew what he had planned from what he had you do to prepare, didn't mean you were ready mentally.

"Good girl." He cooed and then his tongue circled your pucker. It was an odd feeling, but not all that unwelcome. Beomgyu smirked at your whine then you jolted as something cold and wet pooled over your back hole. The scent of mango hit your nose and as you registered that he had dripped lube over you, his tongue was inside again.

"Oh my god-" You gasped; the feeling was incredibly strange. You whimpered as he tongue-fucked you, not able to stop your hips from twitching. Your cunt was literally dripping, and you heard him rustle more in his bag.

"I want to fuck your cute little ass today, noona, but they didn't have the right size condoms at the store. This'll have to do." He pulled away long enough to say that, then his tongue dove back in, helping ease his index finger in. Your breath hitched and you tried to take measured breaths and stay relaxed. While it was new and weird, the vulgar sexuality of it all made you dizzy.

"Haven't had a girl willing to let me do this yet, noona." He huffed and you flinched hard when his finger wiggled all the way in. The fruity lube dripped down his wrist and mixed with your own slick.

"Wait!" You gripped the table as his finger spread you open, his tongue sheathing back into your pussy. Having the stimulation in both holes was nearly too much.

"Okay, just wait." Beomgyu pulled his finger out slowly, and he laughed, almost sadistically.

"Can't fucking wait, though…." He mumbled and you felt something round on your pucker.

"Breathe." He coached and you did so, the little bead entering. You couldn't see behind you, but when a slightly large round followed you grunted. Your whole body shuddered and the sound of your slick splattering onto the concrete floor echoed around the shelter. On the fourth little ball, you realized it wasn't a bead strand but some kind of noduled vibrator. You sighed when the fifth one entered, and the flat end of the device nestled against your hole.

"Ah, fuck, Gyu!" Your exclamation made him laugh, pressing the remote in his hand once more to increase the buzzing again. He stood behind you, watching in delight at your whole-body reaction.

"Turn around." He hauled you up and you let out a long whimper when he gently pressed you onto your knees.

"Gyu~" Your eyes were already starting to glaze over, and he smiled at the goosebumps covering your skin, your nipples were hard too. The best was your bright red cheeks, which he stroked with his thumb.

"I'm gonna fuck your throat. Then I'm going to spray my cum over every inch of your skin I can." He promised lowly and you whimpered. Your hands braced on the floor and your squat changed as he finally shed his boxers. You swallowed hard, then opened your mouth, tongue out.

"Fucking hell, baby girl." He groaned and you did as well when his hand went to your head. Having a lot of practice, you timed your inhale well, because he didn't hesitate to bury inside your mouth, your nose pressing to the skin at the base of his cock. Beomgyu looked down at you, a smirk over his pretty face, eyes dark. He loved the tears brimming in your eyes and he showed you the remote in his hand. He cranked it up once more to the highest setting and your whine around his cock vibrated through him.

"Damnit, lovely." He huffed and right as you were starting to burn for air, he pulled his hips back, and you sucked in air harshly right as he let you. You wanted so bad for him to cum inside, but he had already hinted he would rather cover your face.

"Another day can you swallow, kay?" You nodded and he exhaled, then began to move his hips. His hands tugged hard on the base of your hair. The roll of his hips was slow so you could take in air, but every time he thrust in, he went all the way. At first you gagged some, but you learned his rhythm to compensate. You had to swallow several times, trying to deal with not only your drool but his precum.

"Shit, I'm gonna-" He gasped, pulling all the way out and pumping his hand on his cock. You kept your mouth open, tongue out, hoping to get a taste, all while panting desperately. You felt like a dog begging for a treat.

"(Y/N)~" Beomgyu moaned your name, and you sighed as the hot and sticky release painted you. He covered your face and upper chest, the feeling of the thick bead dripping over your breasts felt like it was burning. The few drops you got on your tongue were swiftly swallowed and he was panting some himself, admiring his work.

"Fuck, I wish I had condoms; I want to fuck your ass so bad~" He was practically whining, and the admission made you clench around the buzzing toy.

"Up." He didn't even have to lead you that time, you stood and bent over the table. He smiled, cooing out some praise, his cock in hand hardening back up. Even more so seeing your tight hole clenching around the buzzing silicone.

"Ready?" The younger man didn't wait for your answer before he was balls deep in your cunt.

"Shit!" You swore, your cunt already pulsing. It was odd having the toy in your ass and his cock in your pussy, but it was so incredibly good. Your whole body tingled, and your immediate thought went to how he might feel inside your ass instead. Just thinking of it made your head swim.

"Fuck, I don't know how tight your ass would be if your cunt's so tight!" His tongue ran over his top lip, beginning to fuck you in earnest. He didn't have great power behind his thrusts, but his technique was clearly there. The vibrations of the toy carried through the walls of your holes, and he could feel it buzz on his cock. He wondered how tight you would be with a cock in your ass as well. Preferably with a third dick in your mouth.

"Oh, noona!" He laughed, gasping a bit at the clench of your walls. Damn, did he wish he had a condom. His head was looping so much on the thought of fucking your other hole he didn't even realize you came around his cock and just plowed through it. Your moans had turned into yelps and whimpers, drool spilling from the side of your mouth.

"If you thought I had stamina swimming, huh, you ain't seen anything yet." Beomgyu promised. He could not only last a long time, but he could keep going over and over. You were already gone, fucked out, and he knew he still had at least three orgasms in him. After holding back from even just fucking his fist, since he met you, he could actually probably do more. Such a fucking shame he couldn't buy what he needed. That would be the only place he would rather fill up than add to layers of jizz on your skin. Better though not to make a mess.

"B-B-Beom! Gyu~" You nearly screamed as another orgasm rose. You had no idea how long he had been pounding into you.

"Shit!" He groaned himself and when he felt your walls clenching his cock again, he pulled out. Letting out a sigh, your skin lit on fire as he sprayed his release over your back and ass. There was a faint pink dusting on the skin there. Beads of cum rolled over your skin, down the outside and inside of your thighs, mixing with your own release and the lube he had slathered around your ass. As you both panted, you looked around the room, trying to get your bearings. It was then you noticed a plastic grocery bag sitting near it that you did not put there.

"Beom-" You pointed to it, recognizing the drug store logo. He panted but went over to it and groaned in excitement. Must have been Brandi, she was a fucking life saver. You had requested it from her the day before just in case, and she had followed through. There were two boxes, luckily one was the right size.

"Oh, fuck yeah." He pumped his fist and came back to you, smirking at the messy puddle on the floor between your feet.

"Come here." He was gentler that time and he carried most of your weight as he rolled you onto your back. The man smiled, ready to cover your front with his cum as well, but first…

"Breathe." He coached again and you whined as he eased the toy out, letting it fall to the floor. There was plenty of slick there, from the lube and your cunt, and the condoms were covered as well. He tore the box open, barely registering the toy losing battery where it lay.

"Can't fucking wait…" He mumbled something else, digging out a single condom and desperately unwrapping it to roll it onto his dick. He had instantly gotten hard again at the prospect of getting inside you.

"You want my cock in your ass, love?" He teased and let out a pleased groan when you nodded with a soft, "yes please." Beomgyu could even see your cunt clench as you replied. Realizing you needed a bit more prep, he grabbed the bottle again, slathered more on his fingers, and circled your rim again. You yelped as he slowly let two of his fingers in, much looser now from the toy. The vibrations had also numbed you some, and the stretch was just a little bracing. Your breathing picked up, your eyes closed to help concentration. You shivered at the third finger and pondered what his cock was going to feel like.

"Can't wait." He mumbled but was gentle taking his fingers from you. The sticky digits met your thigh as he used his hands to fold your legs up and out, giving him perfect sight and access to your pucker.

"Gyu~" You whined, and he laughed. All the air left you as he began to inch his cock inside. You were shivering so hard it was hard to believe it was still nearly eighty degrees in the shelter. It was still during the day, the sun causing somewhat of a greenhouse effect. The air conditioner in the back office wasn't strong enough to cool the whole inside down.

"Fuck, noona!" He panted, finally burying his cock into the hilt. He was right, you were so much tighter there, and hotter, even through the rubber. Your tremors calmed as you got used to him, trying so hard not to clench too hard. He was rubbing calming circles on the skin of your thighs, his own brow furrowed to hold back.

"Move." As soon as you allowed, he pulled slowly out just a few inches, then eased inside just as slowly.

"Fuck-" You keened, back arching at the feeling. Beomgyu led your legs to wrap around his waist and you giggled when his hands linked with yours and held them over your head.

"I…can't-" He grunted, and he started to batter his cock into you, luckily only pulling out half way each time. Still, his hard cock was carving into you over and over, the feeling was incredible. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he fell onto his forearms, whining some. You felt so fucking good around him. Plus, he got to ravage not just your mouth and cunt, but your ass as well. When he felt his orgasm coming back up, he gently pulled out as not to shock you. You whined and he pulled the condom off and fucked back into your cunt. You did scream that time and he nearly came inside as your walls squeezed and pulsed around him. More slick spilled from you and splattered to the floor. After a few thrusts, your orgasm died, so he pulled back out, stroking himself to completion. More hot and sticky fluid fell on your skin, this time on your lower stomach and even over your cunt. He was a bit worried when he saw you breathing so heavily but with your eyes closed. One leg had flopped down, the other still bent in the air and your arms still laid limp near your head.

"Noona?" he called.

"Gyu~" You mewled, and he sighed in relief. He stood at the end of the table, stroking your thighs since that was one of the few places not covered in his cum. As you came back to reality, your eyes opened and you looked at him, eyes widening when you saw that his cock was still hard.

"What the fuck are made of?" You chuckled and this made him laugh, a little bashful.

"You have to be done?" He sounded a little dejected, but you shook your head no.

"I just can't do the work." You giggled and he smiled.

"Don't worry." He was more than willing to help with that. You whined, sore as he helped you sit up. While he wanted to just pick you up, he wasn't confident in his strength. Instead, he helped you get off the table and to his next destination. You let him pull you down to the floor with him, a little confused. He had prepared something earlier it seemed, because there was a few towels on the ground and leaning against the wall…a mirror. It was normally near the door that led out to the snack bar, but he had moved it. Luckily, the spot allowed you both to sit right near the back-office door and get a full blast of the cold air. As he pulled you down, he made you sit on his lap, his cock standing proudly against your cunt. Your face bloomed red as you saw your reflection. You were…a mess, absolutely.

"B-Beomgyu!" Your back was still covered in his cum, though it was drying, but he didn't care.

"Here." He handed you a little package and you used the little bit of strength you still had to lift yourself a bit so you could roll the condom onto him again. You yelped when you fell back into him, his hands cupping your thighs again, spreading your legs up and over his own.

"You-" Your head fell to his shoulder when he lifted you up and started to press back into your ass.

"God!" You nearly cried as he filled you back up. You couldn't bring yourself to look in the mirror, but he soaked it in. Seeing you quivering as he split you open, fully on display and covered in his release…

"You're gonna make me crazy." He nuzzled your ear as his arms wrapped around your middle, one hand cupping your breast and the other rested on your lower stomach, dangerously close to your clit. Because you were nearly deadweight on him, he had to use more strength to thrust up into you, but the image before him filled him with energy. Your whimpers right in his ear spurred him on too and you could see the cocky smirk spread over his lips. He was already gorgeous, but that grin was incredibly sexy. From your other interactions with him you weren't expecting the confident dominance he was exuding. Taehyun made sense, but Beomgyu seemed to have a dominant streak as well. He absolutely loved how you took him, physically and mentally. He wanted to just hole up with you in his room and fuck you till you passed out. Till you couldn't think of anything but him, his tongue, his cock…

"(Y/N)-" His grunts in your ear were just as stimulating to you and another orgasm broke over you as his fingers tweaked your nipple. As you tightened around him again, he couldn't hold back, and he groaned into your shoulder as he filled the condom.

"You've been so good for me, lovely. Want me to fill you here?" he muttered in your ear, two of his fingers stroking your cunt.

"Yes~" You moaned softly, and he groaned as he pulled you off. He definitely only had one more in him. Beomgyu let you recover in his lap, kissing everywhere he could reach as he pulled the condom off. He tossed it over to where he left the toy, and he knew he was probably going to have to clean up as you rested. That was fine with him, if it were up to him, you would never do anything again but sleep in his bed as he took care of you. His ultimate dream was to have you live with him as he took care of your every need and let him fuck you as much as he wanted. Maybe one day…

"One more time, baby girl." The man lifted you once more, and he knew he would be rougher in your cunt. He buried to the hilt instantly, shifting to get a better position and started to jackhammer his cock up into you. He somehow was managing to fuck you more aggressively than before, or you were just that much more sensitive. His arms around you helped you ride him, but he knew your mind was gone. He could see it in the mirror, and you were babbling nonsense, the only thing he could pick out was a plea for him to cum inside.

"Don't worry, lovely. I'll do it." He assured, and brought you down, held you close, and came inside. Your eyes rolled back, another small orgasm twitching your muscles, both of your releases leaving another mess. Good thing Beomgyu told you to bring body wash because you were ruined. During the act you barely noticed, but you felt a little gross. Sweat, cum, your wetness, lube and saliva were not just all over you, but parts of him, the table, and the floor.

"You need more of a bath than a shower." Beomgyu realized and you grumbled in agreement. Could you even stand? He pulled his softening cock out of you and even more fluids painted your inner thighs. You laid back on the towels, panting and even his legs felt like jelly. You watched as he dashed into the back-office bathroom himself, the shower in there turning on. It seemed he rinsed off then came back out, getting his pants back on. You giggled as he tried to clean up quickly, but you told him to slow down.

"I need some time still." You smiled and he nodded, calming the frenzy. Once everything was done but the towel you were laying on and…well, you, he came back.

"Ready, lovely?" He brushed your hair from your face, then kissed your forehead at your hair line. You nodded and he helped you sit up and you groaned. You hoped you could even get to work the next day; you were already sore. Luckily, it was only a bit past noon, so you could get home and rest longer. Surprisingly, you could stand and even walk, albeit with a limp. You were sore in a whole new kind of way, and you complained about it as he giggled, leading you to the bathroom.

"Can you get the body wash in my bag?" you asked him, turning the water on. You let it get pretty hot before getting in and just stood under the spray. Beomgyu came back in, and you almost scolded him as he took his pants back off.

"Beom-"

"I just wanna help." He whined and you sighed, relenting. He proceeded to be incredibly sweet, almost didn't let you do anything, softly washing all of the mess from you.

"It's my fault anyway." Beomgyu insisted. He kept making jokes to get you to laugh thankfully, otherwise his hands all over you would have turned you both on. As you stepped out, he even had a fluffy towel prepared to wrap around you. He had a smaller one around his waist and he rested against the counter, hugging you to him, swaddled in the towel.

"You were so good for me." The younger man kissed your cheek, and you hummed in delight. Turning to face him more, he grinned like a goof as you rested on his chest and closed your eyes. He really wanted to just lay on the couch in the office and let you fall asleep on his chest. But it would be best for you to rest at home.

"I was going to have my roommate come get me but she's at work for another hour…" You glanced at your phone after getting your clothes back on.

"Oh?" He was taking the chance. With a smile, he pulled you onto him and you both took a little nap and he let you rest till she arrived. After getting you -half-asleep- to your car, he assured you he could get everything shut down. As everyone else left before, everything was pretty much handled, but he could do the last few tasks. When he left the pool, he couldn't hide his giant grin all the way back to his apartment.

-> Yeonjun <-

-> Taehyun <-

-> Soobin <-

-> Hueningkai <-

Masterlist

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

star's masterlist

works contain mature and explicit content ; please read individual story warnings and take care of yourself 🩵

also: i'm not a solo stan, just very very heavily hongjoong biased

i write for ateez(ults), stray kids, tomorrow x together

spotify link ! i have playlists for Shells and OTONA BLUE as well as my personal playlists:)

requests and tag lists open !

instagram link !

mature (m)

explicit (x)

reader or author favorite (!)

upcoming : allure part three, shells part six

ATEEZ

Units

Valentine! - head canons, drabbles (x)

Yandere ATEEZ taking care of a sick darling - head canons (m)

Sub ATEEZ - head canons (x)

DJANGO - ot8 (x)(m)(!!!)

Manners One & Two - hj/sh (x)

Playtime - hj/ys (x)

Should I? - yh/mg (x)(!!) & Part Two

Favorite positions - head cannon,drabbles (x)

Allure Part One -hj/sh (x)(m)(!!!)

Kim Hongjoong

Shells mini masterlist (x)(m)(!!!)

Pretty (x)(!)

Stupid games, stupid prizes (x)

Fill You Up (x)(!)

Breath & Breath alt ending (m)(!)

Piña Coloda (!)

Tough Luck (x)

Your Color (x)

Closed Doors (w/choi soobin)(x)(m)

Park Seonghwa

Tease (x)

Pretty Boy (x)

Bebe (!)

The Garden (Chapter One)(m)

Baby (m)(!) , Medicine (m)

Jeong Yunho

Handle it (x)

The night we met (x)

Days In : Chapter One (m)

Kang Yeosang

Otona Blue mini masterlist (m)(x)(!!!)

Yours (x)

Choi San

Who? (x)(!!!)

Heavenly (x)

After Hours (x)(!!!!)

Closer (x) (!!)

California Dreamin' (m)(x)(!!)

Moll (m)(x)(!)

Song Mingi

Sweet dreams (x)

Don't make me beg(x)

Cornflower Blue (x)(m)(!!!)

Jung Wooyoung

Marks (x)

Kiss it off me (x)

Aren't you? (x) (!)

So good (x)

Choi Jongho

Heard that? (x)

Tomorrow x Together

Units

Choi Yeonjun

Choi Soobin

Closed Doors (w/khj) (x)(m)

Choi Beomgyu

Can't help it (x)

Kang Taehyun

Huening Kai

You like it?(x)

STRAY KIDS

Units

Bang Chan

Lee Minho

Seo Changbin

Hwang Hyunjin

Han Jisung

Lee Felix

Kim Seungmin

Yang Jeongin

Nothings gonna hurt you, Baby (m)(x)(!)

[vixialuvs]

FUCK ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT !

୨୧. pairing - choi yeonjun x reader

୨୧. summary - yeonjun fucks you backstage after his concert lol

୨୧. CW - smut, reader being jealous, praise, degradation, oral (f&m rec), doggystyle, marking, dom!yeonjun, sub!fem!reader, mirror sex(?)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you love yeonjun, and you know how desirable he is.. girls are constantly fawning over him and it makes you somewhat bitter and upset, even though he constantly reassures you your the only girl he has eyes for. its really worse when you come to txts concerts, he always gets you front row spots at barricade but his fan girls are always trying to push you around, trying to take your spot. this is exactly what is happening now, a ton of girls in “i ♡ yeonjun” shirts trying to shove you out of the way. your holding onto the barricade for dear life, getting a bit panicked. yeonjun suddenly comes over to your section and tells the girls to leave you alone and stop shoving you, and then sings to you from his spot on stage, reaching out to hold your hand while he does.

after the concert, you make your way backstage with security surrounding you, protecting you from the pushing fans. you try to find yeonjuns dressing room and it takes you a little while but eventually you come to a door with his name on it. you knock softly, murmuring his name and he opens it quickly and pulls you inside. “y/n.. oh.. im so sorry for how they treated you out there baby. are you okay? are you hurt?” he sets you down on the couch in the room and pulls you onto his lap, staring at you with worried eyes. you reassure him with a light smile, telling him he doesnt need to worry and your fine. you squirm a little on his lap, beginning to get a bit shy. he catches onto this and begins to smirk.

“let me make it up to you, yeah angel?” he affirms, his hand beginning to wander, slipping under your skirt teasingly to rub your inner thigh. “but- but junnie.. we’re.. someone could see!” you weakly protest, trying to push away the fact you want this just as bad as him. he begins to kiss down your neck, muttering against your soft skin. “well you’ll just have to be quiet, wont you, sweet girl.” he responds with a stupid smirk on his face, picking you up and setting you down onto the vanity in the room, parting your thighs and lowering himself down onto his knees infront of you, flipping up your skirt. “your so wet already baby, so excited for me, aren’t you? my pretty slut..” his words make you moan, loving the mix of praise and degradation.

arousal courses through your veins and you squirm as you lift up your hips so he can pull off your panties, trying to be quiet so none of the other boys will hear. suddenly yeonjun delivers a teasing lick to your clit, causing you to let out a muffled whimper, and he shushes you, speaking against your pussy which makes you jolt. “if you make a sound i’ll stop and won’t let you cum.” you shake your head, pleading. “i’ll be quiet… let me cum junnie..” you softly beg for him, and he begins to suckle on your clit, pressing his fingers against your hole teasingly. he pushes his middle and ring inside and begins to pull them in and out, feeling your tight walls clenching around his digits, still paying attention to your clit with his tongue. his fingers get faster and you have to clasp a hand over your mouth to keep silent. you feel your orgasm impending and tug on yeonjuns hair to let him know, causing him to pick up the pace. “that’s right, cum on my tongue.. that’s a good girl.. doing so well for me my beautiful whore..” his praise makes you cream all over his face and he just licks it up.

“jun.. wanna please you too..” you get up off the vanity, legs wobbly from the orgasm you just had, kneeling down infront of him and pushing him to sit in the vanity chair, fumbling with his jeans. you pull his jeans and boxers down at the same time, revealing his dick to you, which immediately rests against his stomach from how hard he is. you lean forward and kiss the tip, hands on his milky white thighs, before taking as much of him as you can in your mouth and bobbing your head up and down. his fingers entangle in your hair as he begins to guide your mouth up and down his cock, letting out the hottest groans and whimpers. “such a good slut.. lettin me fuck your mouth like this. you look so pretty, angel. wanna cum all over your tits.” he moans and his head tilts back, his grip on your hair tightening but not enough to hurt as you pick up the pace, using one of your hands to pull down your low cut top to reveal your boobs so he can cum on them when he’s ready. his body begins to shake and he pulls his cock out of your mouth, cum shooting all over your soft boobs, you just sitting there like a good girl and taking it all.

you affectionately nuzzle your head against his thigh until he picks you up to stand on your feet and bends you over the vanity. you can see him standing behind you in the mirror and feel his cock slapping against your ass. slowly he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes inside with a groan. he leans forward and kisses your shoulder, beginning to mark you up, leaving dark hickies wherever his lips can reach all the while he thrusts into you. your moans are escaping, your hand unable to silence them. “junnie.. feels so good.. can’t take much more.. m’ sensitive..” you whine out, tears forming from the pleasure.

his hand sneakily trails down to your clit and begins to vigorously rub it, smirking as he pounds into you from behind, feeling your walls tighten and loosen around his cock. it’s reaching your cervix at this point and causes you to mewl loudly. “shh, you can take it sweet thing. come on.. i’m gonna cum soon..” he coos into your ear. “those girls don’t mean anything to me.. your the only one i want. i don’t love anyone but you. i don’t wanna fuck anyone but you.” he rubs your waist, pulling you back and forth on his cock. he lets out a groan into your back shoulder and his hips stutter before you feel cum painting your walls white. you let out a soft moan and cum as well. he pulls out of you, breathing heavily and turns you over to kiss him. “don’t think this is over yet. when we get to the hotel room i’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@vixialuvs . don’t steal my work!

[dearlyjun]

— dinner plans 𖤐 choi yeonjun

summary: you and yeonjun’s dinner plans quickly change into something else.

pairing: hotboyfriend!yeonjun x afab!reader

genre: smut (18+ readers only pls)

word count: 851

warnings: tongue kissing, making out, ass grabbing, reader is wearing a skirt, biting/marking on yeonjun’s part, head (m. receiving), sloppy blowjob, everything’s kind of messy, yj ruins readers makeup, throat fucking (kind of), and reader is kind of henced to have decent sized boobs lol.

authors note: yeonjun chose to look like this and I in return, chose violence. this isn’t really proofread because I have sick brain rn and am lazy so if you see an error, no you don’t!!

quick links: masterlist | taglist | send a request

–

“We don’t really have time, Junnie.” You spoke, kissing along Yeonjun’s jawline as you unbuttoned his maroon colored shirt.

“We do.” Yeonjun breathed out, the sentence punctuated by a bruising kiss. Your back was shoved against the wall of your bedroom, the sudden movement startling you.

You both were trying to get out of the house for dinner reservations, but one thing led to another, and now you were both half undressed.

His hands slipped underneath your skirt, squeezing at the backs of your thighs and towards your ass. His grip so hard, you moaned into his mouth.

That gave Yeonjun the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth; sloppily tongue kissing you, ruining your lipstick.

Pulling down the straps of your top, his lips made their way down your neck, leaving wet kisses. Feeling Yeonjun start to suck and nibble at your skin, your fingers pulled on his hair slightly; making him let out a whine.

“Jun, I cannot walk around with hickeys.” Your voice was breathier than you wanted it to be. You always preferred Yeonjun to mark you up where only you and him could see, but sometimes he had other plans.

“I won’t.” Yeonjun eased up on your neck, now only kissing softly. “But god you’re so hot. All mine.” He kissed behind your ear before biting down onto the curve of your ear, emitting a whine from you as you placed your palm onto his bare chest.

Yeonjun hiked your skirt up, bending one of your knees up against his waist. He touched your jaw with his fingertips, making you turn your face towards him before kissing you again.

As you kissed him, you moved your hand from his chest, and down to his bulge that was very prominent through his black jeans. The contact making him groan and grind his hips into your hand.

Yeonjun broke the kiss, smirking. “Hey, don’t tease me.” His lips were glossy from kissing you. “What happened to ‘we don’t have time’?”

“Hmmm.” You started undoing his belt, then his pants. “But I don’t think this will take very long.”

“Fuck.” Yeonjun swore under his breath when he realized what you were doing.

You slowly got down onto your knees in front of him; the sight of you getting Yeonjun harder by the minute.

He bit down onto his bottom lip, combing his fingers through your hair.

Once you pulled down his jeans, you leaned forward, planting a few kisses below his belly button.

Yeonjun sharply inhaled, his stomach tightening. Finally, you hooked your fingers underneath the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down just enough to release his cock; painfully hard and leaking precum.

Yeonjun’s fingers were still in your hair as you leaned forwards, grabbing at the base of his cock with one of your hands. You let a glob of spit fall from your mouth onto the tip, and used that to stroke him a few times before sliding into your mouth. You instantly let him hit the back of your throat, earning a throaty moan from him.

“Fuck. Just like that.” Yeonjun muttered, leaning his head back, then looking back down at you.

His deep moans were going right to your core, and you shifted on the floor for any kind of friction; earning a smirk from Yeonjun.

You released him from your mouth with a pop, panting to catch your breath. You reached up to stroke him once more.

“Hang on.” Yeonjun’s voice had a sudden rasp to it, making you look up at him eagerly. He reached, pulling your strappy top down, making your boobs practically spill out. “Look so pretty for me.”

You had no doubt in your mind that your makeup was for sure ruined by now. The intricate eyeliner that you spent all that time on was now about to run down your cheeks, and your lipstick long gone.

You took the tip of his cock in your mouth again, swirling your tongue around the tip, making Yeonjun shudder from sensitivity. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking him in, and bobbing your head on his length. Yeonjun’s hands were in your hair again, this time he had somewhat of a grip on you, a whine spilling from his kiss swollen lips.

You felt his cock twitch, and you changed your rhythm, feeling him hit the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes were watering now, and you were sure he was bruising the back of your throat, but you didn’t stop.

“Fuck. Fuck.” Yeonjun panted, coming close to his own high.

He pulled you away from him, making you finally gag, a string of saliva going from your lips to his cock. You swallowed thickly, and it took you by surprise when he grabbed you by your throat and leaned down; sloppily tongue kissing you.

He pulled away, still close to you.

“Oh no, Jun.” You started. “Don’t we have to–“

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence.

“No.” Yeonjun used his thumb to wipe your ruined eye makeup. “I don’t care about the reservations. Go to the bedroom.”

–

tags: @dearlyjoonie @mhasimp666

[keiho]

— C.YJ | breeding kink drabble

#tags — choi yeonjun x fem!reader | smut, drabble hc #contains — breeding kink focus, praise, degrading, fingering, exhibitionism (photographing), unprotected sex (stay safe), pet names, some aftercare, dom!yj #warnings — lowercase intended, not proofread #words — 419 #thoughts — pt 2/5 !! check my txt masterlist for the other parts #note — this is my original work; @keiho june 2023. do NOT repost.

yeonjun's hips slow a bit as an impending orgasm forms a knot in his stomach. with a hand beside your head and the other moving to rub at your clit, he groans loudly.

he leans down and kisses at your jaw, just below your ear, before he whispers, "want me to fuck a baby into your pretty pussy, angel? hm? make you all full of my cum like a good fucktoy." a growl pushes from his throat as he finishes talking.

you can feel an orgasm building in your core and you moan loudly, your hand instinctually gripping his forearm beside your head.

"f-fuck, 'm cumming," he groans. the feeling of his cock perfectly hitting every spot inside of you and the sensation of his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit is too much for you, and you cry out as you cum.

it pushes yeonjun over the edge, sending him into a dizzy orgasm as he hovers over you. his hips still while his cock throbs inside of you, spilling his seed into your cunt.

he leans down again, stretching himself to carefully kiss your lips.

"did so good for me, baby," he praises softly. you whimper at his movement, every single centimeter he shifts making your pussy throb around him. he bites his lip at your reaction before reaching for his phone. your eyes drift shut sleepily, and you take in a deep breath, letting it out in a shaky sigh.

when you open your eyes, yeonjun is looking down at you lovingly. he has a soft smile on his lips as he slowly pulls his cock out of you. his gaze trails down your body, the line of hickeys down your torso, his eyes locking on your pussy.

his tip slips out of you with a pornographic pop sound, his cock almost too big for you, and he groans.

he lifts his phone up and takes a photo of your dripping pussy, the sight of his cum leaking out of you almost enough to make him cum by itself.

"such a pretty pussy," he whispers, tossing his phone into the mess of sheets next to you. he sits up to kiss you again, his hand moving to your cunt before he slips two fingers inside of you carefully.

your back arches as you squirm underneath him, whining in overstimulation, and he smiles against your lips.

"shh, angel... it's okay," he says gently, almost mockingly so. "can't let any of this go to waste, can we?"

[beom-pyu]

touch tank ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ choi yeonjun

choi yeonjun x fem!reader , tags: idol x producer au , semi-secret relationship , fluff , nsfw , reader is stressed and bf yeonjunie comes to save the day :3 , soft soft soft

warnings: smut ( minors dni i beg) , service top yeonjun ?? , cunninglus (fem!receiving) , praise , slight slight hair pulling , reader calls yj baby a lot (and he loves it) , cumming untouched , sickeningly sweet fluff at the end

"he's so pretty when he goes down on me—gold-skinned eager baby, blue shirt out the laundry" ♫

wc: 1.7k+

“you know—when your phone rings with the name ‘yeonjun’ on the screen, it means i want to talk to you.”

yeonjun’s voice is immediately sulky and whiny as he enters your studio. you look up from your computer screen to see a takeout bag in his hands and the cutest pout on his lips.

you let out a small, pitiful sigh before removing your headphones and saving your project, reaching up to rub the exhaustion out of your eyes. “‘m sorry, baby. my phone was on silent—i need to finish this song by tomorrow.”

yeonjun sets the steamy plastic bag down on your desk, right by your computer, before he drops to his knees, nudging himself between your legs to rest his cheek on your thigh. you’ve reminded him multiple times that he can simply pull up a chair and sit next to you, but he swore that he felt more comfortable like this—and who are you to deny him when he looks up at you with the biggest, glittering eyes ever?

there is nothing you love more than the fact that yeonjun saves this side of himself only for you. the side where his walls completely come down and he turns into putty in your hands. he knows he’s safe with you, always.

your hand subconsciously finds its way into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. the weight of his body against your leg grounds you and you smile down at him with adoration in your eyes, his own bunching up into small crescent moons as he returns it. the only light in the room came from the pink warm-lighted lamp on your side table and the screen of your monitor.

“i miss you,” yeonjun utters with his cheek squished against your bare leg, that adorable pout still on his beautiful face. you laugh quietly as you stroke his hair, cocking your head to the side.

“but i’m right here?” you bring your fingers down to caress his cheek and yeonjun whines softly at your response. you can’t help but giggle at his reaction.

“i haven’t seen you all week,” he replies sadly, blinking up at you, his hand coming up to play with a loose string on your shorts.

your heart clenches at his words.

“i know, i know. i just have so many songs to write and all of these deadlines are so close together and—” you stop yourself mid-sentence to sigh, already feeling the stress creep back into your body. you’ve slept on your studio couch too many times this past month, skipped too many meals, and missed too many calls.

being a great producer comes at a price, and that price was starting to take a toll on your relationship. you feel incredibly guilty for not making enough time to see your boyfriend in between his already busy schedule; the most you’ve spoken to him this week had been a quick phone call before his concert to let him know you were cheering him on.

yeonjun can see you getting lost in your head, pawing gently at your shin to bring you back to him. your eyebrows are furrowed as you find his gaze, his eyes filled with concern and worry—it all just makes you feel even worse. he has enough on his plate, and now here you are, adding another burden to his life.

he lifts his head from your leg to fully look at you, his hands resting atop your thighs. “when was the last time you took a break, my love?”

you blink at him, your eyes drifting to your monitor to see the time. 10:24 p.m.

“i went home to take a shower and nap at 8.”

“today?”

you nibble on your lip nervously. “yesterday.”

yeonjun’s eyes widen and you prepare yourself for your weekly lecture—but instead, he huffs in disappointment, the pout returning to his lips.

“i’m sure you already know what i’m going to say,” yeonjun starts, his thumbs rubbing circles into your skin. “so let me just help you out instead. please?”

you look at him quizzically, unsure of what he means until his hands creep up to your shorts. this isn’t the first time yeonjun has offered to eat you out while you work, and you can never find it in your heart to tell him no. not when his tongue swipes over his pink lips, scooting closer so his face is right above your core, looking up at you so desperately as he waits for your approval.

you nod in confirmation before your hand tangles into his hair again, watching as he smiles up at you from in between your legs, looking so perfect and wonderful and lovely. he kisses the inside of your knee, nipping and biting his way up your thighs. you hiss slightly at a particularly hard bite, pulling his head up by his hair to meet his eyes.

“don’t leave any marks, okay?” yeonjun nods quickly in obedience before he continues his ministrations, only just barely grazing your soft skin with his teeth.

“i love you,” he mumbles as he squeezes your thighs, obsessed with how they squish and bounce under his hands. you let out a small breath, tilting your head back against your desk chair.

“i love you, baby. now, get me out of these shorts please.” you can already feel your heat pulsing in impatience as yeonjun takes his sweet time leaving a few more kisses on your skin. sometimes you believe this was more for yeonjun’s pleasure than yours with the way he takes his time worshiping every part of you, breathing growing heavy before he can even taste you. it’s absolutely adorable.

yeonjun doesn’t tease you for too long though, looping his fingers into the waistband of your shorts before he slowly pulls them down your legs, tossing them aside. he pulls your chair closer until you can feel his steady breath against your glistening folds. he drags his middle finger up your slit, collecting your juices before he looks up at you with the biggest doe eyes, slowly bringing his finger to his lips with a quiet moan. the sight alone makes your stomach flip, observing him through hooded eyes.

“hurry, please, jun.”

yeonjun wastes no more time before he grabs your hips, tilting your lower half upwards so he can lick a stripe up your pussy, your hips bucking at the sensation. his thumbs rub comforting circles into your skin as he leaves a few butterfly kisses over your folds before attaching his lips to your clit, jolts of pleasure running through your body at the sudden action.

pulses shoot up your spine as he sucks on your clit harshly, pulling off to kitten lick your swollen bud before circling it with his tongue. your jaw falls slack as soft moans leave your lips, your hand lazily carding through his now messy hair.

“so good for me, jun, fuck,” you manage to breathe and you can feel yeonjun smile against your core at the words. you slowly move your hips against his tongue, your leaking entrance leaving his chin and nose all wet. his cheeks are flushed pink as he pants against your pussy, obscene slurping noises filling the soundproofed room of your studio.

your hands grip tightly onto the strands of his hair as his tongue fucks you, his lower half rutting up into nothing as his erection presses up against his jeans just right. his finger—oh god, his fingers—prod at your entrance before he easily slips them in, your pussy gushing as he gently curls them upwards. your hips speed up, babbling out praise towards yeonjun as you full-on ride his face into oblivion. your mind is cloudy once he sucks on your clit again, pumping his fingers in and out.

you tense around him as it all gets to be too much, squeezing your eyes shut at the intense waves of pleasure rushing through you.

“‘m cumming, baby, fuck, fuck.” your voice is pitched up as you near your high, yeonjun moaning against your pussy like it were his last meal.

the vibrations mixed with his tongue pressed flatly against your clit send your over the edge, your back arching up off of the chair as you cry out. his strong arms hold you up as you rub your release all over his face, your hips moving frantically to milk out your bliss for as long as possible.

you eventually come back to your senses, your entire body spent as you slump against the chair, chest rising and falling heavily as you try to catch your breath. there’s a faint ringing in your ears and you feel like you’re dreaming. you blink your eyes open to see yeonjun staring at your spent expression like you’ve hung the stars and the moon and you conclude that you are indeed dreaming.

the collar of his shirt is damp as his chin drips with your cum, his lips puffy and swollen. his hair is a rat’s nest and you giggle slightly at the damage you’ve caused, a small smile creeping onto yeonjun’s face from yours alone.

“my baby, you did so well for me,” you praise him, hands reaching down to cup his cheeks as you press a few small kisses onto his wet lips. “made me feel so good.”

yeonjun chases your lips as you pull away and your heart bursts with fondness. he is so perfect—you don’t know how you ended up so lucky. your eyes seem to drift down to his lap, your smile growing wider as you see the soaked patch that bled through the front of his jeans.

“you came just from eating me out?” you ask incredulously, yeonjun whining a bit at your teasing tone, leaning down to nuzzle his face against your thigh. naturally, your hand finds its way back to his messy hair.

“you taste so good. couldn’t help it,” he mutters almost bashfully, blinking up at you with his long eyelashes. so perfect. “do you feel better now? did i help?”

“i feel so much better, baby,” you stroke his hair and he sighs contently as his eyes flutter shut, basking in your warmth and touch for a moment before his eyes open again. he pats around for your shorts, smiling triumphantly once he finds them.

“so you don’t get cold.”

you giggle under your breath at the small action, thanking him quietly as pulls your shorts up your legs, leaving small tiny kisses behind.

from now on, you are definitely going to make sure you spend more time with your boyfriend. music can wait.

reblogs are highly cherished!

masterlist

©️BEOM-PYU