#yeonjun drabbles

[taegimood]

— my girl (c.yj) ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader genre: friends to lovers, non-idol au, smut, fluff rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 6.1k warnings: unprotected sex, pwp (6k but most of it is smut tbh lol), softdom!yeonjun, inexperienced!reader, dry humping, oral + fingering (f receiving), squirting, petnames (baby, princess, doll, good girl, pretty girl), daddy kink (yeonjun refers to himself as daddy), spanking, creampie, multiple orgasms, light choking but not (he doesn’t squeeze), one instance of spitting, it’s established that jun is older than reader so OPPA IS USED AS AN HONORIFIC and idc if people hate it lol as a korean speaker i’m tired of westernizing shit

a/n - pls picture temptation era hair yeonjun 😵‍💫 this is inspired by a dream i had.. dreamt every part in his room up until the actual penetration 😮‍💨 cockblocked by my own brain

masterlist

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yeonjun’s sheets are soft as you sit observing his bedroom, taking note of all the little details that his strong personality shines through, the first time you’ve seen the other side of his door — though how you even got to this point in the first place is still something you’re going over and over in your head as you wait for him to come back.

his soft smile is met with your nervous one as he enters the room with two water bottles in hand, shutting the door quietly behind him — your eyes follow his lithe fingers as he turns the lock — and you watch as he places the drinks on his nightstand before turning to you.

the air suddenly feels much warmer when he sits down on the bed beside you, so close that you’re almost touching, and that fond look on his face only serves to heighten your nerves as you remember that he knows what he’s doing, and you don’t.

well… sort of.

everything happened only a few hours before.

your best friend kai had invited you to hang out with him and his roommates, a chaotic group of guys who you’ve grown to call your friends as well; even yeonjun, who you may or may not have developed the hugest crush on ever from the minute that you’d first met him.

it’d been a few months of back-and-forth, sometimes convinced that it must be mutual and other times doubting your judgement completely — has he always been this flirty, or is it your imagination when his eyes linger just a little too long? — and it was on this fateful day at their apartment when it all fell apart.

(or should you say, all came together).

everyone knows to watch out once beomgyu’s got a couple of drinks in him, so it was only a matter of time before your unlucky day came when he’d decide that you would be his glorious first victim of the afternoon; and that was exactly where you found yourself as he took it upon himself to announce to everyone in the room that you and yeonjun needed to admit you wanna fuck each other already, or else he’d “just have to do something about it himself” (whatever that meant).

to say you wanted to crawl into a ditch and die would be the biggest understatement of the century.

your wide eyes were pinned to the floor as the room erupted into multiple reactions; soobin groaning with a smack upside beomgyu’s head as he scolded the younger not to say stuff like that, taehyun’s “damn,” as he knocked back his beer to cover a laugh, kai burying his head into his hands with a shriek — he swore he didn’t mean to spill your secret to beomgyu a few weeks ago, it just slipped out — and of course, the culprit in the center laughing his ass off unphased.

the only one who had yet to say anything was…

you steeled yourself and glanced up, meeting yeonjun’s eyes that were already watching you from across the living room.

your own widened marginally.

he didn’t look disgusted. he didn’t look put off. in fact, he looked…..

your breath caught. there was a small upturn to his lips, a confirmation, the hint of a smile that solidified as he quirked a brow as if in question. as if he was asking you,

“well? what should we do about it then?”

and everything changed from there.

~

it hadn’t taken long for beomgyu’s quick-moving attention span to be directed elsewhere thanks to some faithful effort on hyuka’s part, the others following suit to spare you from the spotlight — and it was only about an hour later when you found yourself alone in the kitchen for a breather, the sounds of your friend’s quarreling and laughter slightly less eardrum-shattering now from where you stood leaning against the sink.

a few minutes passed before the sound of someone else slipping into the room grabbed your attention.

your peace quickly morphed into apprehension.

“hi,” yeonjun whispered, a small smile on his face that read somewhere between gentle and amused.

his hands were in his pockets as he came to lean casually against the counter opposite you, head tilted slightly to the side as his eyes trailed over your expression, and you cursed your mouth for going dry at the sight of him.

his simple black tank top and sweatpants combo had you fighting to keep your eyes on his face — his face, pretty and framed so nicely by silky black hair that was grown out quite a bit longer than usual these days, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it as your thighs rubbed together subconsciously.

“…hi,” you whispered back.

he breathed out a small laugh.

“i wanted to talk to you, but i didn’t want the others to hear.. figured this was a good opportunity when i saw you get up.”

“r-right..”

why am i so awkward? what the fuck? oh god wait why is he coming closer-

your hands gripped the counter behind you as yeonjun stepped forward. his voice was low, quiet, meant only for you as he stood in front of you with a look on his face that had you melting in more ways than one.

“listen... i know that we’ve never talked about this thing between us. i didn’t wanna scare you off by being too forward, but now that beomgyu ran his mouth about it…”

with a feather-light touch, yeonjun reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“well, i’m not gonna deny what he said, and i’m pretty sure that i’m right when i say.. i think you want me the same way that i want you.”

you felt heat running down your entire body like a zap of electricity.

your fried brain didn’t even have the chance to fully process before you heard beomgyu shout from the living room, “hey, what’s taking so long?!” and the scent of yeonjun’s cologne was like a drug as he leaned in and whispered in your ear,

“if you feel ready to see where this goes.. stay here with me when they go out.”

and just like that he was gone, random assortment of snacks in hand to avoid suspicion as he called back to beomgyu, “i’m coming, just couldn’t decide what to eat!”

and you slumped against the counter with legs like jelly.

~

you received a chorus of groans and boos when you told the guys you were gonna go home instead of joining them elsewhere for dinner and drinks, earning brief suspicion only from taehyun as he eyed you questioningly for a moment — their focus primarily resting on yeonjun’s uncharacteristic opt-out that he’d blamed on a sudden migraine.

you felt ridiculous as you even headed down the elevator with them to the street outside, going out of your way to be believable, rounding the corner towards the subway station until they were well out of sight in the opposite direction before heading back up towards the apartment.

you’d’ve been lying if you said that you didn’t consider leaving yourself; your jittery nerves and quick-beating heart nearly convincing you, until you remembered the look in yeonjun’s eyes and the wetness between your legs returned.

yeonjun, choi yeonjun, one of the most popular and charismatic guys that you know — wants you.

and now here you are on his bed.

when you think about it, in your eyes yeonjun is a lot of things that you’re not; the way he just naturally draws people in, the way he carries himself, always making friends so easily; the fact that he’s genuinely cool, somehow good at everything he does and always looks hot doing it; he’s older than you — not by much, but still — and the number one thing on your mind right now:

he’s experienced.

now you’re no virgin, but your measly 1 past boyfriend is nothing in comparison to the fact that yeonjun’s ability to please a woman is a very well-checked box on his long list of skills (if beomgyu is correct about anything he’s blabbed about, at least. which today so far he seems to be).

and now, as he sits here so close to you with that same look on his face as before, that gentle smile and amused little twinkle in his eyes — well, you know right then that you’re a goner.

“hi,” he whispers, just like he did in the kitchen earlier, and you whisper it back with a shy smile.

this is the first time you’ve ever truly been alone with him.

he looks at you for a few moments, and you wonder if this is what amoebas feel like under a microscope until he places his hand on the bed beside you and rests his weight on it, by default leaning in even closer than before.

“i like you.” he says simply.

in panic mode, you resort to sarcasm - “y-yeah-“ you clear your throat - “um, yeah, i think we established that.”

his laugh sends tingles through you as a real smile not stricken with awkwardness finally blooms on your face, the ice slowly melting for you as you start to remember that right, okay, he’s a friend and not some unreachable deity (for the most part, at least).

“i.. like you too,” you respond sheepishly, and you bite your lip at the underlying shift in his tone as he keeps his eyes locked on yours and says,

“i know.”

the mood has suddenly deepened into something else.

his hand comes up to your cheek, thumb ghosting over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “is this okay?” and you don’t know when his face got so close to yours but your eyes are already threatening to flutter shut as you hum in response, lidded gaze glued to his full, pretty lips that you want so desperately all over your body.

“words, baby.” his voice is a whisper, breath warm against your lips, his own so close now that you can almost feel them —

“y-yes.”

and just like that, choi yeonjun is kissing you.

whatever you thought a real kiss was supposed to feel like, whatever kisses you had felt with your ex —

none of it compared to this.

you feel his smile when you quietly moan, his lips even softer than you had imagined, moving against yours slowly, deliberately, expertly, the hand that had been on your cheek sliding gently to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss.

his tongue is warm and soft as it traces along your bottom lip, and you don’t care how eager you probably seem as you let it in immediately, trying not to moan again as he slips it past your lips to caress yours; you melt as he sucks lightly on your tongue before giving a teasing, gentle bite to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

you can’t even imagine how dazed you must look — but his knowing smile tells you enough.

you can’t explain it, but in that moment you gain a hunger-fueled confidence. you want to give yeonjun everything.

fuck, you want him bad.

you’re pulling him back to you faster than you can chicken out otherwise, and the pleased noise he makes as you connect your lips again only spurs you on further to do what you’ve been so badly wanting to:

you touch him, hands sliding from his shoulders up to his soft hair, pulling at it gently as his lips travel down your jaw to suckle at the skin of your neck; you moan, freely this time, eyes sliding shut and head tilting back to give him all the access he wants as you wrap an arm around his shoulders and keep him close.

his hand slides around your waist to your lower back as he slowly guides you down to lay against his sheets, your legs instinctively widening for him as he slots his hips between them, and you groan at the bulge now resting comfortably against your clothed core.

it doesn’t take long before he gently rocks his hips forwards.

you whimper, clutching to his tank top as he continues to kiss and suckle along your neck; your legs tighten around his hips and his lips tilt into a smirk against your skin as your body responds to his like it’s what it was made for, and so he does it again, this time continuing into a steady rocking pace.

the hardness of his cock drags deliciously against your center as he rolls his hips into it again and again, slow enough so that you feel everything, but firm enough that it makes your head spin and your thighs twitch with need.

“oppa,” you whisper, pleadingly, and you don’t even know what you’re asking for but you know that you just need more.

“hm?” he hums back, lips still sucking pretty bruises into your neck,

and it’s like he can read your mind as he asks with another smirk against your skin - “want more, baby?”

you nod quickly with a weak, “mhm,” and your heart jumps as his lips move up to your ear.

“tell oppa what you want.”

the husk of his voice sends shivers straight downwards.

he pulls away just enough for you to meet his eyes and you feel like a rabbit hunted down by a fox, but in your case, you never want to escape from his grasp.

“i.. i-i want…”

you can feel the heat blooming in your cheeks, remembering once again how much you haven’t experienced, and you want to tell him exactly where you want him to put his mouth — but instead your eyes avert from his as you mumble in admission,

“i-i’ve never been… well i’ve never been eaten out before. s-so.. um..”

in your peripheral you can see yeonjun’s brows lift to his hairline in disbelief. “what?”

a finger beneath your chin gently draws your gaze back to his and the genuine bewilderment in his eyes is enough to deepen your blush as he asks, “how could that bastard have possibly survived never tasting you?”

your body buzzes with electricity as your eyes widen; there’s a hunger and determination dancing in yeonjun’s stare that you’ve never been looked at with before.

his intensity makes you shiver in anticipation and it’s like you can taste the honey dripping from his words when he says,

“let me make you feel good, baby. let me give you everything that he should’ve.”

your head spins.

you’ve never felt so desired.

the second that you say okay, yeonjun places one last dizzying kiss to your lips before he’s moving down your body, guiding you out of your shirt as he slowly maps out your skin with his lips — you breathe out a sigh at the way his large hands caress you, intentionality in every touch.

eventually he sits up on his knees, pulling back from a kiss to your navel to reach for the hem of your panties. you shiver when his fingers ghost over your hips.

“lift for me,” he instructs softly, and you do, biting your lip as he begins to slowly pull them down, eyes glued to your cunt, and you watch the way his breath hitches in his throat at the strings of wetness that cling to the fabric.

“fuck,” he whispers, practically groans,

“can’t believe no one’s ever tasted such a pretty pussy before… gonna eat you so good, baby..”

you’re going out of your mind with need, his words alone sending another gush of arousal to your heat, your hungry eyes traveling down to trace the imprint of his rock-hard cock in his sweatpants.

teasingly you ghost your foot over it as he slides your panties from your ankles, and his eyes flicker up to yours as you stare back innocently; his gaze narrows and lips quirk up into a lopsided smirk as his warm hands slide up your legs.

“getting brave, now, are we?” he taunts, stopping at your thighs as he wraps his hands around them and spreads your legs open.

slowly he lowers himself between them, all the while keeping his eyes on yours, and your hips jump at the whisper of his breath against your aching cunt when he says,

“better be careful, doll… any game you try to play, i can play it better.”

and when his fingers spread you open and his lips kiss your clit, you already know that he’s ruined you for any other man.

how could you even dream of anyone else when the tip of yeonjun’s velvety tongue slips out to trace teasingly up and down your slit, or when the pad of his finger circles so lightly around your leaking hole that you might even be imagining it?

no, there’s no way you could be imagining this, not as the warmth of his mouth caresses you as he closes his lips around your clit and gently begins to suck, your head tipping back with a shudder as you whine at the feeling.

“eyes on me, princess,” he murmurs against your cunt, and when you manage to bring your gaze back to his, the sight before you is sinful.

his foxlike eyes dark and dangerous and twinkling as he watches you through his lashes, pretty lips forming a smirk that you can only feel and not see as he whispers “good girl,” - before the next thing you know, his tongue is flattening against you as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy, big hands keeping your jerking hips in place as he begins to ravish you, sucking, licking, kissing, groaning shamelessly at the taste of you and sending vibrations straight through your quivering core as you unravel beneath his touch.

“so fucking good,” he moans, sliding a finger inside of you with ease as he begins to pump it steadily in and out, practically making out with your pussy as you whimper, hands instinctively flying to his hair — you almost pull them away when suddenly he adds another digit, the stretch causing your fingers to tighten in his dark strands as your hips instinctively grind forwards against his mouth.

you’re about to apologize when yeonjun moans even deeper than before.

“that’s it, baby,” he grunts, “use my face. want it so bad, don’t you? go ahead and chase it, cum all over daddy’s tongue.”

something unholy snaps inside of you at that.

“f-fuck-” you cry, doing exactly as he said; you can’t help it as you grind your clit down on his warm tongue over and over and over, hands tightening in his hair as his fingers work impossibly faster, and a new sensation takes over you as the dam breaks and you reach your peak;

you don’t realize what’s happening at first as you’re carried through the most mind-blowing orgasm, until you feel the unusual amount of wetness soaking his sheets and hear yeonjun groaning “fuck, fuck, that’s it, baby, that’s it -“ and he’s three fingers deep as you realize you’re squirting.

it’s as though he can read your body like a book the way he can tell when it’s suddenly too much, his pace slowing gradually until he gently slides his fingers from your sopping hole, placing a final feather-light kiss to your clit before his lips and hands move to soothe your quivering thighs.

“you did so good, baby, holy shit..” the bottom half of his face is soaked in your juices as he mouths along your skin, hands massaging and caressing whatever his lips aren’t kissing;

you’re still bewildered, and can feel the raging blush on your cheeks as you’re quick to blurt in embarrassment, “i-i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to-“

“y/n.” yeonjun looks up. “seriously, that was so fucking hot, you have no idea.”

you can see in his eyes that he’s telling the truth.

“r-really?”

he laughs, finally sitting up; “baby, i- fuck, like, you actually have no fucking idea how sexy you are.” he pushes his hair out of his face and it’s only then that you realize how heavy he’s breathing, the bulge straining against his pants somehow a million times more prominent than it was earlier.

“y/n, i’m so turned on right now that i can hardly think straight. please-“

you meet his eyes again quickly,

“please, i need to be inside you.”

apparently today is the day that you learn just how crazy choi yeonjun makes you, because despite your still-twitching thighs and your pussy so sensitive that you’re sure a slight breeze would send it into overdrive, your body is quick to betray you at his toe-curling words when your walls clench from the emptiness and a fresh wave of arousal gushes from your soaked heat.

“if you don’t fuck me right now i’m gonna go clinically insane.”

his brows lift only for a moment before he’s laughing, swooping down to catch your lips in a kiss. “well we can’t have that, now, can we?”

he gets off the bed, your eyes hungrily tracking his every move as he peels the tank top from his torso and casts it to the ground; “fuck,” you whisper as your gaze trails down the defined ridges of his abs; “fuck,” you groan when he hooks his thumbs around the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls them down with his boxers in one go.

his cock is long and slender and flushed pink, the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen as you imagine the weight of it in your mouth.

if it were anyone else, you’d wanna slap the shit-eating grin right off of his face, but this is yeonjun, and the fact that he knows he’s all that only makes him 10x hotter.

you can’t tear your eyes away from his length as you sit up on your elbows to watch, and he enjoys it, pumping himself in his hand and smearing the pre-cum around his tip with a satisfied hum.

but as he reaches for the condoms in his desk drawer, you surprise both him and yourself when you stop him.

“no.”

he pauses, looking over his shoulder at you with quirked brows —

“want you to fuck me raw.”

his mouth goes dry. you can see the fire dancing in his eyes as he slowly straightens, keeping himself under control as he asks carefully,

“are you sure?”

you bite your lip and quickly nod. “wanna feel you,” you breathe, and that does it for yeonjun as he’s back on top of you in an instant, his lips pressing to yours in a searing kiss as you moan around his swirling tongue.

his hand is on your throat, not squeezing, just resting there as if to say you’re mine, and you whine deep in your chest when you feel the tip of his cock sliding through your slippery folds.

“gonna fuck this pretty pussy so full of my cum that it’ll be dripping out of it for days,” he rasps as he taps the head of his cock repeatedly over your clit, the lewd noise met with your whimpers as you grasp at his bicep.

“please,” you whine, “want it, please-!”

his hand slides from your neck down to squeeze your tit as he sits up and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder with his free hand.

“so good for me,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded and lusting as he looks down at you, dragging his shaft back and forth along your slick pussy; “such a good girl, begging for daddy.”

and when he finally pushes the head of his cock past your entrance, stretching you open as he sinks inside, stars explode behind your eyes and you nearly cum again right there on the spot.

“fuuck..” he groans in a drawn-out moan, eyes sliding shut and head tipping back as your walls suck him in, mouth falling open before he catches his plush bottom lip between his teeth and looks back down at you through hazy eyes, giving another rough squeeze to your tit in his grasp.

he slides his hand down to press against your lower belly as he bottoms out, your hips twitching as you gasp, and with his other hand he grips your leg that’s slung over his shoulder as he begins to grind his hips against yours.

you can’t breathe, can’t speak, overwhelmed by how fucking good it all feels, the head of his cock massaging places inside of you that you didn’t even know existed as he rolls his hips over and over, whispering fucked-out nothings;

how tight you are, how good you feel, how he’s gonna make you forget your own name by tomorrow.

and when he starts really moving, hips separating from yours only to connect again with a lewd slap of skin on skin each time he delivers a slow, firm thrust to your cunt, holding you in place so you don’t jolt up the bed — well, you never knew that something so delicious existed, and now that you’ve had a taste, you’re already rendered insatiable.

you paw at any part of him that you can reach, hands finding purchase on his thighs as his pace picks up into a steady rhythm, your lips moaning and pleading and begging around words that you can hardly get out of your mouth.

“look at you,” yeonjun coos breathlessly, “so drunk on my cock already.. perfect pussy made just for me, hm? taking daddy so well? good baby.”

he looks as blissed out as you feel, face wracked in pleasure as he picks up the pace, his hand so large where it still presses over your lower belly that his thumb is able to reach your clit, and the added stimulation along with the pressure of his palm sends your head lolling as you twitch and tremble underneath him.

“j-jjunie..!” you whimper, and you can’t help the nickname from slipping between your lips; you’ve never called him so intimately before, never said his name so freely, but your accidental drop of honorifics seems to stir something inside of him as he groans and fucks you harder;

“say that again,” he grunts as you gasp out from the sudden increase in pace.

“jjunie,” you keen immediately, gripping the sheets, gripping his arms, gripping anything as a muttered curse leaves his lips and his thumb circles faster around your aching clit.

“love it when you say my name, fuck,” he groans, hips slamming into yours and jolting you like a ragdoll as you cry out for him, the knot in your stomach tightening so fast that you swear it’s about to snap, and when he leans forward with your leg still gripped over his shoulder and his cock pounding into you at a far deeper angle than before, fireworks fill your vision as you cum around him harder than you’ve ever came in your life.

“yes, yes, yes, fuck, that’s it, cream on my cock, baby, fuck you’re so- s-so tight, fuck- just like that, let go for me, baby, good girl-“

yeonjun’s voice sounds far away as you spasm around him, his thrusts growing sloppier as your cunt clenches him so tight that it nearly forces him out; he lowers your leg back down to the bed and slows down a little to let you catch your breath but he doesn’t stop, and your watery whimpers are like music to his ears as you clutch onto him desperately.

“t-too much, too much-!” you hiccup, tears spilling from your eyes at all the overwhelming sensations, but you don’t actually want him to stop and he knows it too — he coos at you, hand sliding up to rest on your throat again as he leans down and licks a stripe up your neck to your ear.

“you can give me one more, baby, can’t you?”

a shiver rolls down your spine at the devilish smile in his voice, sweet like honey as he catches your earlobe between his teeth.

“one more so daddy can stuff you nice and full.”

your pussy clenches. “w-want your cum,” you whimper dumbly in response, too fucked out to think of anything else, and yeonjun smiles as he leans back and runs his hands down your body until they reach your hips and squeeze.

“i know,” his thrusts are still steady as he watches you with twinkling eyes; “and i’m gonna give it to you.”

your eyes widen in protest as he suddenly slides out of you without a warning, but the words die in your throat and are replaced with a squeak of surprise when he flips you over onto your stomach instead.

“ass up for me, pretty girl.”

you obey immediately with what strength you have left in your shaky limbs, a quiet whine escaping your throat over not being able to see or touch him anymore.

his little laugh from behind you indicates that he caught it.

“don’t worry, baby,” he soothes as his hands massage over your ass, “we have all the time in the world.”

your heart doesn’t even have time to skip a beat at the promise of his words when suddenly his tongue is on your pussy, your knees nearly buckling at the heat of his mouth as he licks from your clit up to your fluttering hole, and you gasp as he spits on it before his cock enters you fully in one single thrust.

you cry out, knees buckling for real this time as he holds you up, sheets crumpled in your fists as his hips immediately pick up into a quick, dizzying pace.

“love the way you fall apart around me,” he murmurs from behind you, squeezing your ass, “love how you take me so well…”

you want to touch him so badly, want to see the pleasure pooling in his eyes; you don’t have time to respond before he lands a smack on your ass, your surprised squeak spurring him on as he does it again, drilling into your cute little hole like it was made just for him as he breathes out a moan.

from this angle he can see the way your pussy swallows him so hungrily, and his grip on your hips tightens as he drags you back and forth on his cock.

“love.. l-love your.. love this so much… w-wanna be yours…”

he almost misses your dazed mumbling over the loud sound of his hips slapping lewdly against your ass, but he makes out what you said, heart swelling in his chest and cock simultaneously twitching inside of you as he leans forward, his palm sliding up along your spine to brush the hair from your fucked-out face as he pushes your body down against the sheets, chest pressed to your back now and breath caressing your ear as he continues rocking his hips even deeper.

“you’re mine, baby, you’re mine..” he whispers between kisses along your jaw, a reassurance, your soft whimper of a response causing him to bite back a smile as he continues,

“i’ve wanted you for so long.. can’t believe i finally get to have you.” his hand slips beneath you to toy with your throbbing clit, and your ass grinds back against him as a result as you moan wantonly into his sheets.

“i’ve been yours since the.. fuck.. since the second i s-saw you..fuck, p-please don’t stop..!”

your hips are moving with his now as he works your clit faster, mustering your strength and pushing your weight back as you desperately try to fuck yourself on his cock, on his fingers, chasing the rising wave in your belly that’s threatening to break as he meets your quickening movements with his own.

“touch yourself for me, baby,” he murmurs in your ear before removing his hand and propping himself up on his forearms, allowing for a more concentrated angle as he ruts into you, your choked moan muffled by the sheets as you immediately slide one hand down to rub rapidly at your clit, your other one weakly moving to tangle your fingers with his the best that you can;

“gonna cum, gonna cum,” you whimper, drool pooling at your lips, the scent of yeonjun’s cologne and the weight of his body on yours like pure intoxication as he fucks you harder, breaths heavy and staggering in your ear as he grunts,

“cum for me, baby, need to feel it, cum all over my fucking cock-“

and when your third orgasm washes over you, you’re too weak to do anything but let it, body going limp as it wracks over you in pure bliss, the warm feeling of your clenching walls finally sending yeonjun over the edge this time as he shoots his cum into you with a loud and drawn-out moan, voice breaking as he spews filthy words and incoherent curses; he presses his hips impossibly deep against yours before stuttering into sloppy thrusts to fuck himself through the rest of his orgasm as your fluttering pussy milks his cock of every last drop.

the room grows silent save for your heavy breaths, both of your chests heaving as his forehead slumps down to rest against your back; you didn’t realize how tightly you were holding onto his hand until you carefully untangle your fingers from his.

he hisses from the sensitivity as he slides his twitching length out of you.

you look at yeonjun as he rolls off of your back and flops exhaustedly onto his side next to you, and when he meets your eyes, there’s only a passing moment of silence before you both giggle.

his smile is fond and blooming with affection as he rubs a hand up and down your back, moving to smoothe the hair from your face and gently brushing his knuckles across your cheek before resting his hand on top of yours.

“hi,” he whispers.

you giggle again.

“hi,” you whisper back.

“so.. would this be a good time to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

your heart skips a beat and you bite back a smile. “i was worried you’d just want to stick to the sex..” you admit.

yeonjun shakes his head, lips forming into an endearing pout as he laces his fingers with yours.

“nah, you’re stuck with me now, princess,” he grins. “i meant what i said… i’ve been wanting you for so long.”

an indescribable feeling flutters in your chest as you giddily turn your head to bury your face in the sheets, yeonjun laughing as he shuffles closer, rolling you over onto your back despite your giggle-ridden, poorly-executed attempts to fight him off.

you grin up at him and he grins down at you, hovering over you now with a hand on your cheek as his endeared eyes trail over each of your features as if to memorize them.

“my girl,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you tilt your head up to meet his lips when he leans in and kisses you softly, your hands playing with the long hair at the nape of his neck.

“i meant what i said too,” you murmur against him.

“mine since the second you saw me, huh?” yeonjun’s cocky grin is light and teasing as you scrunch your nose at him, flicking his forehead and sending him into another pout.

“yeah, yeah. whatever, pretty boy.”

instead of responding he buries his face in your neck in a flurry of kisses as you squeal in surprise, laughing as you wiggle around underneath him;“stop, that tickles!”

“gotta make up for all the lost time when i didn’t make a move,” he reasons as his kisses move to your cheeks, your nose, your lips — you’ve never seen this side of yeonjun before, so soft and gentle and sweet; the fact that it seems reserved only for you sends butterflies fluttering through your tummy.

you spend your evening like that, wrapped in each other’s arms as you talk about your relationship, talk about the feelings that led you here, talk about this and that and everything in-between;

“does this count as our first date?” you ask quizzically. he wrinkles his nose.

“no way, i’m gonna do the most romantic shit ever for that.”

you snort. “isn’t that what this is?”

but you don’t have the chance to tease him any further when the beeping sound of his apartment passcode being entered causes you both to freeze.

you were so caught up that neither of you considered the time; nor the fact that yeonjun does indeed have 4 other roommates who would in fact be coming home at some point or another.

that some point apparently being now as the rowdy chatter of your friends erupts into the foyer until you suddenly hear soobin’s tipsy mumble. “what the… what are y/n’s shoes doing here?”

you and yeonjun turn to look at each other as your friends’ voices fall silent.

the seconds pass and you almost wonder if you’re in the clear…

but of course, no peace lasts forever with beomgyu in the house.

“OH MY GOD,” he screams.

“THEY FUCKED!”

[p0ckykiss]

a bouquet of flower - choi yeonjun

summary -> yeonjun always keeps one flower to himself from your bouquet and you can't figure out why.

one flower.

you for the life of you couldn’t wrap your head around it. whenever yeonjun gave you a bouquet, you noticed how there was one singular flower of the same kind sitting promptly on yeonjun’s countertop. first gone unnoticed until around the third or fourth set of flowers.

yeonjun always did little things that left you perplexed. always taking the long way home, watching movies on live television when he already owned them. he was a puzzle you were dying to solve.

you sat there, propped up on your elbows, staring at the singular rose that faced you.

“baby?“ yeonjun calls.

"yeah?” immediately refocusing your stares onto him in front of you.

“can you pass the salt?” he asks with a small smile.

you do nothing but smile in return as you push the salt yeonjun’s way.

“now, I know your rule, but just for once let the cook clean up.” yeonjun speaks, breaking the small silence.

“but-”

“i know today wasn’t the easiest so let me, please.” he pleads.

“i never said today was hard.” you replied, not necessarily denying it.

“you said your friend called out, I know things tend to be rough without her on saturdays.” yeonjun retorts.

“i don’t deserve you, yeonjun.” reaching over the counter to lightly press a small kiss to yeonjun’s lips.

yeonjun kept his promise, cleaning up while telling you about the next song he was working on.

your arms find their way wrapped around yeonjun’s waist as he hums in response.

your eyes meet the rose once again.

“why do you always keep one?” you blurt out.

yeonjun wipes his hands on the wash cloth, turning around. he blinks for a moment before tilting his head, “what?”

“the flowers. whenever you get me flowers you keep one. not that I mind I mean obviously keep one if you like the flowers, but-”

“oh! I keep one to see when it dies.” yeonjun interrupts.

“you what..?” you said being even more lost than before.

“you know, so I know when to get you more.” he states as if this was common knowledge.

all of your thoughts are consumed by yeonjun. like a wave swallowing you whole and you wanted to be pulled under.

everything yeonjun did made your heart pound. the way yeonjun leaves little notes around the house for you. the way yeonjun’s smile leaves you breathless. the way yeonjun scrunches his face when you tell a terrible joke. the way yeonjun didn’t understand how absolutely perfect he was.

“i love you.” you confess, barely above a whisper. quite obviously terrified to say it out loud.

“that’s good because i love you too.” yeonjun says, calming you down instantly, not that your heart wasn’t still racing.

“i’m gonna kiss you now.” is all you say before cupping yeonjun’s cheek and smashing your lips together.

[blue-jisungs]

now we deserve a yeonjun bf texts one 😞😞😞💗🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

texts with bf!yeonjun

author’s note. even tho my asks are closed i did this bc well i was planning either way LMAO so you ask and shall receive 🫡

tae ver ;; soob ver ;; gyu ver ;; kai

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @mirxzii ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,,

@nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,,

@ocean-minho ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien ,, @nonononranghaee

[luviestarz]

choi yeonjun fic recs!

🍮 stay alive // c.yj - @fairybinie - (yeonjun and gn!reader are targets for their powers and they’re running out of solutions. all yeonjun wants is for y/n to stay alive, yet everything always comes with a price and secrets always come out. )

🍮 BUSTED! - @pr0dbeomgyu (bumping into her shitty ex out of nowhere while hanging out with her friends, y/n was determined to show that she was way better off without him. desperate enough, she paid choi yeonjun, a cheapskate stranger she met 5 seconds ago, to act as her rich, classy boyfriend. y/n thought it was fine to change some things about her life to yeonjun (read: everything), cause heck, they don’t even know each other! but why is it that after the incident, yeonjun kept on appearing in her life, finding out the truth about her one by one, in the worst possible way?)

🍮 [ ��.ʏᴊ ] | 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗰𝘂𝗼𝘂𝘀 - @gyuslvrr (yeonjun wants you, but all you can see is how tired he is)

🍮 [12:17AM] - @iknowyuu (drunk!reader tries to chase away the man following them, not realizing it’s their boyfriend.)

🍮 ❝ JACK FROST NIPPING AT YOUR NOSE ❞ boyfriend!choi yeonjun. - @theynchapter

🍮 cliché - @heart2beom (after yeonjun hears you referring to him as someone who's like a brother ...he tries his hardest to make you see him as a potential boyfriend.)

🍮 — GOODBYE KISSES - @wooyukh

🍮 — dinner plans 𖤐 choi yeonjun - @dearlyjun (you and yeonjun’s dinner plans quickly change into something else.)

🍮 storage room smooch - @soobszzn (you want to show your super sporty and athletic boyfriend yeonjun just how supportive you can be.)

🍮 a bouquet of flower - choi yeonjun - @p0ckykiss (yeonjun always keeps one flower to himself from your bouquet and you can't figure out why.)

🍮 — my girl (c.yj) ♡ - @taegimood

🍮 TAKE ME ON A DATE — CHOI YEONJUN - @yuoniz (you realise your best friend's feelings for you when you try to play matchmaker)

🍮 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ♡ choi yeonjun. - @yeonboy (If you had known that a fun night out eating junk food with your best friend that you have always harbored a crush on would turn this sour because he misunderstood your words, you would have kept your mouth shut. Now Yeonjun has gone radio silent on you and if you want to salvage your friendship, you will have to get over your feelings first because he will never forgive you if he finds out. Right?)

🍮 just the tip - @seoulzie (yeonjun cant hold himself back & begs reader for "just the tip")

[adorehyyuka]

lovesick!jun <3

smut mdni

warnings: IGNORE THAT THIS IS OVER 2 MONTHS LATE, readers gender is not talked about and neither is their specific genitalia, not proofread, penetration, praise, tiniest bit of degradation ? yeonjun comes early, this drabble is a little softer than the rest, probably shorter too.

"jun you promised !"

"I-i know, baby ! but i just love you s'much," your boyfriend panted out as he whimpered above you, eyes squeezed shut while his teeth had a firm grip on his puffy bottom lip. "can't get enough of you- fuckk"

It was only meant to be cock warming. yeonjun swore on it. but of course all promises and "cross my heart"s had gone straight out the window as soon as he felt you clench around his tip. and after a few minutes of begging you were quickly flipped onto your back while your boyfriend pushed his hips into yours at a pathetically shaky pace.

"you feel s'good" he slurred, hands tightening around the bedsheets whilst you watched him rut into you with a shit eating grin plastered across your face. "wanna— MMm ! wanna be like this forever hah~ "

"yeah ? better keep going then pretty, you wanna make me feel good don't you ?" you taunted and clenched around him, knowing full well that in a minute he'd be slobbering into your chest and you'd be the one moving his hips for him.

yeonjun nodded eagerly, whines and whimpers passing through his shiny lips as his hips trembled. "yes, yes ! want to— wanna make you feel good ! love you s'much I always wan' you to feel good !"

you chuckled and let your head drop back against the pillow, letting yourself appreciate the irregular rhythm yet pleasurable sensation of his thrusts. "mmm fuck,, just like that." you encouraged him. loving the way his swollen tip nudged against your gummy spot.

as he kept up with his motions you couldn't help but grind your hips into him, your breath jumping with every touch he gave you. it only took a few more minutes until his elbows were wobbling either side of your head.

you cooed, traces of fake sympathy lining your tone. "tired out already ? c'mon, you can do better than that. I know you're not this pathetic, jun."

"sorry, 'm sorry ! love you s'much ! you jus' feel s'good wrapped around me—!"

you felt his breath hitch against the skin of your neck, he whined at the way you squeezed his cock so nicely as he jerked his hips for the last time, high pitched mewls filling your head as he came inside of you.

you lay still for a few moments before looking down at yeonjun's fucked out face. "did you seriously come already ?"

with no answer from him you laughed softly.

"turn around and lay on your back. 'm gonna ride you."

despite how far gone he already looked, your words had him scrambling to roll onto his back. and when you sunk down onto his dick he swore he almost came again, balls tightening as he whimpered out curses and clenched his fists.

"you good, pretty ?"

"fuck— please move ! you're so tight 'nd warm, baby." he begged, his warm hands landing on your waist for something to grip. you smiled, starting to bounce lightly on top of him as he stared up at you with his glossy eyes. so pretty.

"I can feel you twitching 'nside of me, jun. you gonna come early again ?" you spoke through pleasure filled sighs, ignoring the way he squirmed beneath you.

yeonjun let out a dry sob at your teasing. his hands gripped your waist tightly, fingers digging almost painfully into the fat around your hips as he watched himself disappear inside you over and over again.

"gonna— gonna c-come ! love you ! love you s'much !"

series mlist

©hyyukas

tag list, @miukuui @zzstar @mini-mews

[honeyhaeya]

(1/2)🖇 ༘ ⋆"Moved On Not "

' ╰┈ 'you wore his hoodie home. it still smelled like him. and god, you swore you could still feel his hands on your waist'

' .☘︎ ݁˖' '연준 x f!reader

🎧ྀི 'ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Diet Pepsi (Addison Rae)

♫⋆₊˚ ﾟ. 'ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre / tags: fluff, smut, emotional tension, friends to lovers, teasing & possessive!yeonjun, intense makeouts, lap-sitting, domestic moments, long build-up, jealousy, banter, soft aftercare, sunrise sex ੈ✩‧₊˚ warnings: NSFW WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT ! explicit language, emotionally vulnerable scenes, mention of alcohol (responsibly), jealousy themes, minor angst (resolved), tension from miscommunication, reader is bold, story contains mature themes ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎˎˊ˗ nsfw warnings: porn with little plot (AT LEAST) - oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up irl), praise kink, hair pulling, neck kissing/biting, dirty talk, soft dom!yeonjun, riding, creampie implied, overstimulation, light marking (hickeys), possessiveness (you’re mine energy), emotionally charged sex, aftercare (wiping, cuddling, forehead kisses), clingy!yeonjun post-sex, reader takes control at times ✩‧₊˚ wc: 5558ੈ ੈ♡ a/n: my laptop just recently broke which is why i didn't get to update here on tumblr :// editing here on my phone is so damn hard, i almost didn't post this. lately, I've been in love with yeonjun cause he's so so so much prettier in person. 1/2 chapters !

This wasn’t what you had in mind at all.

You thought the class reunion dinner would be a predictable, boring affair—filled with awkward small talk, forced laughter, and empty reminiscing. But then he walked in.

The one person who had unknowingly held your heart hostage all throughout high school. The one you swore you'd moved on from.

One year had passed since graduation, and not once had you crossed paths with him again. You thought the feelings were long gone—buried with teenage dreams and unspoken confessions. But the moment his eyes met yours across the restaurant, the moment he strolled in with that damned smirk—the very same one that made your heart skip back in first year—it all came rushing back like a punch to the gut.

"Hey," Karina said, patting your head and tugging you out of your trance, her hand messing up the perfectly styled strands she helped you curl earlier. Her eyes narrowed at you knowingly, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Stop drooling. He hasn’t even taken his jacket off yet.”

You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks. She knew. Of course she knew. She was the first person you ever told about your ridiculous crush on him, and probably the last. You knew she’d set something up later if you didn’t make a move tonight—and that alone had you shaking your head in silent panic.

But it was already too late.

Out of all the empty seats in the restaurant, Yeonjun made his way to the one right beside you and sat down, casually greeting the table. Your breath hitched. The air around you thickened, your awareness of his presence suddenly heightened.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, his voice smooth, familiar in a way that made your chest ache. “Still stunning as always.”

His gaze lingered on the dress you wore, the one Karina and Winter picked out with hushed squeals and knowing looks earlier that evening. You looked good. You felt good. But under Yeonjun’s gaze, you suddenly felt exposed—like he could read everything you tried to bury behind your quiet smile.

“You clean up well yourself,” you replied softly, your lips curving in a polite smile. Your eyes flickered to his, just for a second, before darting elsewhere—almost as if dismissing the conversation before it could even begin.

It was a habit. One you never quite broke.

And Yeonjun noticed. Always noticed. That was his biggest frustration with you back then. No matter how many times he tried to get close, it always felt like you were slipping away. Like you were building walls the moment he tried to peer in.

Did he make you uncomfortable? The thought had haunted him more than he cared to admit.

But tonight, he wasn’t going to miss his chance again.

“I’ve been doing alright these past few years,” he said, steadying himself. You looked too beautiful tonight to ignore. “It’s really nice seeing you again, you know. You’re… refreshing to look at.”

You smiled, nodding politely. “I can say the same for you,” you murmured, your heart hammering against your ribs.

He blinked. You said it so casually—but the words clung to him like hope. Still, unsure of your tone, he turned his attention back to the group, not wanting to push too hard.

The night wore on, laughter echoing around the table, glasses clinking, and the heady scent of food and alcohol mixing in the air. You were smiling, laughing quietly when the jokes got a little too funny—but always from the edge of the circle, never the center.

Yeonjun watched you more than he watched anyone else.

He noticed the way you covered your mouth when you giggled. The way your eyes sparkled at jokes, especially his. It made him want to say the worst ones just to earn that small laugh again.

Under the table, Winter nudged you with her foot. You turned to her, brows lifting in question. She didn’t speak—just got up, waiting for you to follow. Curious, you did.

She led you to the hallway, away from the buzz of the reunion. The moment you stepped out, she turned to you with wide, excited eyes. “Okay, don’t freak out,” she said, practically vibrating with energy. “Beomgyu just asked if he could take you out to dinner sometime!”

You blinked. “…Beomgyu?”

Winter beamed, looking more thrilled than you felt. Karina trailed behind her, arms crossed with a sigh.

“You mean the same Beomgyu who’s made it his life mission to bully me since freshman year?” you deadpanned, one brow raised.

Winter rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. He’s not bullying you. He’s teasing you. There’s a difference. Besides, he’s into you. Always has been.”

You and Karina exchanged a look—hers unreadable, yours full of disbelief—before silently turning back toward the party.

And still… Yeonjun’s lingering glance at you, the soft tilt of his head, the way your heart jumped at his laugh… that stayed with you longer than you expected.

You returned to the table, trying to pretend like your heart wasn’t racing. You slid back into your seat, offering a half-smile to whoever noticed your absence. Yeonjun’s arm was now resting casually behind your chair, not touching, but close enough that the warmth of his presence made your skin tingle.

You didn't even have to look—you knew he was watching you.

Karina leaned in slightly, murmuring under her breath, “So? What was that about?”

You rolled your eyes. “Winter’s matchmaking again.”

“Ah,” Karina said knowingly, following your gaze to where Beomgyu was laughing with some of your old classmates across the room. “The human embodiment of chaos.”

“He asked if he could take me out,” you muttered, picking up your glass again, lips barely touching the rim. “Winter looked like she was gonna explode with excitement.”

Karina hummed. “And how do you feel about it?”

You hesitated. Your eyes flicked to your left—Yeonjun was laughing at something Soobin said, his dimples deep, the corners of his eyes creased in that boyish, devastating way.

“I don’t know,” you said truthfully. “I thought I’d be over him by now.”

Karina gave you a soft look, one that said she knew exactly who him was.

“You can’t just switch off a three-year crush like a light, Y/N.”

You were about to respond when Yeonjun turned to you, voice smooth, confident again, like it hadn’t cracked once back there when he first saw you.

“Hey,” he said, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “You disappeared for a second.”

You swallowed. “Winter needed to talk to me.”

His eyes searched yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you spoke. The noise of the table blurred in the background. There was something unspoken passing between you—an almost—but not quite.

You weren’t sure what possessed you in that moment, maybe it was the buzz of the beer, or the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing worth looking at, but you leaned in, just enough, and said, “Did you miss me?”

It was playful. Teasing.

But it landed.

Yeonjun blinked, taken aback—but only for a second. That smile, the one that ruined you years ago, curved back onto his lips.

“Of course,” he said. “You’ve always been a hard one to ignore.”

Your breath caught. Your heart did a little flip-flop thing, and Karina, the ever-present observer, raised her brows behind her glass with a silent finally.

You looked down at your lap for a moment, trying to compose yourself.

Before either of you could say more, someone shouted from across the table, “Truth or drink!”

You groaned.

Yeonjun just chuckled.

Someone shoved a bottle to the center of the table and spun it—glasses were being filled, rules shouted over one another, people already choosing chaos. You thought you might escape this mess, until the bottle slowed… and landed on Yeonjun.

All eyes turned to him.

Soobin grinned. “Truth or drink, Jun.”

Yeonjun glanced at you briefly, then looked back at the table. “Truth,” he said.

Soobin leaned in like this was a setup. “Alright. Did you ever have a crush on someone at this table?”

The table erupted with oooohs and gasps and laughter.

Yeonjun’s eyes didn’t leave yours.

The teasing smile dropped into something softer, something real. His voice was calm when he replied.

“Yeah,” he said. “I still do.”

Your breath hitched.

You didn’t look away—not even when your pulse spiked and Karina elbowed you under the table. Winter’s jaw was practically on the floor.

Yeonjun still had a crush?

You didn’t get the chance to respond—because right after that drop of a confession, Taehyun groaned, “Okay, this is getting too wholesome. Let’s spice it up.”

“I second that,” Beomgyu chimed in, already tipsy and too loud. “Truth or dare, people. Come on, we’re not in middle school anymore.”

The energy shifted instantly. Someone clapped. Bottles were refilled. You laughed nervously, clutching your glass tighter.

Soobin leaned forward, spinning the bottle again, and when it stopped—right in front of you—everyone turned in anticipation.

You blinked.

“Y/N,” Soobin said with a grin, clearly enjoying this too much. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you said without thinking.

“Lame,” Karina muttered, but she was grinning too.

Soobin rested his chin on his hand, tilting his head in that charming, innocent-looking way that was anything but innocent. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Who was your high school crush?”

Immediate chaos.

Winter gasped. Karina started chanting “SAY IT. SAY IT.” The table erupted in whoops and teasing, while you nearly melted into the floor.

You didn’t answer. You were too busy trying not to make eye contact with the one person whose gaze was already burning a hole into the side of your face.

“I’ll drink,” you muttered, reaching for your glass.

“Oh, come on,” Soobin said, still grinning. “Don’t tell me you were into someone boring like Mr. Han from chemistry class.”

“Mr. Han was married,” you shot back, eyes narrowing—but your heart was racing.

“Well, if you're not gonna say it...” Soobin leaned in a little more. “Wanna give me a hint? Was it someone as charming as me?”

That made you laugh, even as your cheeks flushed. “You’re unbelievable.”

He smirked. “But am I wrong?”

Before you could answer, Yeonjun suddenly shifted beside you. He reached over, his arm brushing against yours—deliberately this time—and took the bottle. “My turn to spin,” he said coolly.

Soobin raised a brow but sat back, clearly amused.

Yeonjun spun the bottle, eyes never leaving yours.

It stopped—on Karina.

“Dare,” she said immediately.

Yeonjun smiled. “Switch seats with me.”

The table went silent. You froze.

Karina blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” Yeonjun said, already standing. “Let me sit there—” he gestured at the seat across the table, next to Soobin, “—and you sit here.”

Karina looked at you, then back at him, her expression somewhere between smug and surprised. “Wow,” she said under her breath. “Bold.”

But she stood up anyway.

Yeonjun sat back down—closer than before—and the moment Karina left, he leaned toward you, voice low enough that only you could hear.

“I don’t like how he talks to you.”

You turned your head, startled. “What?”

Yeonjun smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Soobin. He flirts with everyone, I get it. But with you? Nah.”

“You’re being—”

“Possessive?” he cut in, eyes flicking down to your lips before returning to your gaze. “Maybe. Can’t help it when it comes to you.”

Your throat went dry.

And then, in the background, Beomgyu shouted, “Okay, next round! And no more skipping dares!”

You didn’t even care.

Because Yeonjun was still looking at you like you were his, and maybe—just maybe—you wanted to be.

“Alright, alright,” Beomgyu hiccuped, eyes glassy with mischief, “since everyone’s too scared to admit their crushes, next round’s dare only.”

Everyone groaned, but Soobin was already spinning the bottle again.

It landed on Yeonjun.

The table collectively ooh’ed.

“You better make this one count,” Taehyun grinned, leaning forward. “We’ve been waiting for years, man.”

Yeonjun leaned back coolly, one arm stretched behind you on the booth’s top. “Hit me.”

Soobin’s grin turned devilish. “I dare you… to kiss the person you had a crush on during high school.”

You choked on your drink.

The table exploded. Winter shrieked. Karina howled like she was on a game show. “THIS IS BETTER THAN NETFLIX!” "This is kinda cheesy." Winter muttered, enjoying the events around her.

Yeonjun looked unbothered. He glanced around, as if thinking, just to tease—then his eyes locked on yours. Steady. Hot.

And before you could react, he leaned in.

You could barely breathe.

His hand brushed your jaw, tilting your face toward him gently. “You okay with this?” he murmured.

You nodded.

His lips brushed yours, soft but sure, enough to set your whole body on fire. It wasn’t a drunken dare. It wasn’t casual. It was a declaration.

The table went dead silent for a moment. Then erupted.

“Oh my GOD—” Winter yelled.

“You two have been the biggest slowburn in history,” Karina said, dramatically wiping away fake tears with a napkin.

You were flushed, dazed, laughing through the heat of your embarrassment. Yeonjun just smirked, brushing his thumb against the back of your hand under the table.

The game kept going, messier now. More drunk, more unhinged.

Karina ended up doing a handstand against a wall.

Winter accidentally confessed her 2020 situationship with Beomgyu that no one knew about.

And eventually, the group started breaking up, people calling Ubers, hugging goodbye, swaying in their shoes.

Karina was flat-out giggling into your shoulder. “I’m gonna throw up in Yeonjun’s car, heehee.”

“You’re not even in his car.”

“Yet.”

Yeonjun appeared at your side, offering his jacket like a silent knight. “You good?”

You nodded. “They’re trashed.”

“I figured.” He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “You wanna come with me? I’ll take you home.”

“Can you take all three of us?”

“Obviously.” He looked smug. “But only one gets shotgun.”

Winter hiccupped. “I call trunk.”

Yeonjun helped you both get them into the car, Karina now passed out on Winter’s shoulder in the backseat.

The car was quiet as he drove. You watched the city blur past, heart still racing from earlier.

Karina stirred behind you. “Y/N?”

You turned. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad it’s Yeonjun,” she slurred softly. “He’s like… obsessed with you. Been obsessed since sophomore year. This is me… officially giving my blessing.”

You flushed instantly. Yeonjun laughed, low and soft, his hand gripping the wheel tighter.

“Thanks, Karina,” he said.

Then she added, “Don’t be shy, you can totally make out with her in the front seat. I’m not watching. Zzz.”

You groaned. “Oh my god—”

“Tempting,” Yeonjun muttered under his breath, giving you a teasing side glance that made your breath hitch again.

When he finally pulled up in front of your place, he parked but didn’t turn the engine off.

“I’ll walk them in,” he said, unbuckling. “Then I’ll come back… if you want me to.”

You bit your lip, heartbeat thudding.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I want you to.”

And god, the way he smiled at that?

You knew tonight was only the beginning.

He came back after making sure Karina and Winter were both inside and passed out, leaning on your doorframe like he had no right looking that good after babysitting two grown women.

You were waiting just outside the building, jacket tugged tighter around you, and as soon as he reached you, he tilted his head. “You didn’t go in?”

You shrugged. “Thought I’d say thank you properly.”

“Thank me?”

“For the ride. For not losing your mind dealing with them. For the… dare,” you added, lips curving up slightly.

Yeonjun’s smirk grew. “That didn’t feel like a dare to me.”

You looked away quickly, heart pounding. “Shut up.”

He stepped closer.

“Look at me.”

You did.

The streetlamp cast a soft glow over his face, and god, his eyes—they weren’t teasing now. They were hungry. Honest.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmured. “You’ve always looked stunning. But tonight, you actually destroyed me.”

“Yeonjun…”

He reached out, hand slipping to your waist, tugging you close until your chest nearly pressed against his.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he said, voice lower now. “Three years of watching you keep your distance, laughing at my jokes but brushing me off, looking at me like you wanted me but never saying anything.”

“I didn’t think you were serious.”

“I was,” he breathed. “And I still am.”

And then he kissed you again—but this time, it wasn’t soft. It was everything he’d been holding back.

You gasped into his mouth, and that was enough for him to deepen it, one hand cradling your jaw, the other slipping down to your lower back to press you even closer. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself, your knees practically buckling under the weight of him.

His mouth moved against yours, confident, hungry, like he was memorizing every inch of you. And when he pulled back—barely an inch—he whispered against your lips:

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you wanted me back then.”

Your breath hitched. “I did.”

He grinned. “And now?”

You smirked, tugging him closer by the collar. “Now, I want you in my apartment. But let’s start with round two of that kiss.”

Yeonjun groaned, like you were physically killing him. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“You’ve survived three years,” you whispered, “you’ll survive the night.”

And just like that, the door behind you opened with a loud creak—and Karina, bleary-eyed and holding a water bottle, blinked at you both.

“Oh,” she said slowly. “So… we’re past the flirting phase?”

You shoved your face into Yeonjun’s shoulder with a mortified groan while he laughed. "What are you doing in my apartment?"

Karina smirked. “Okay, carry on. I'm leaving... Just don’t make it weird. And tell him you talk about him all the time when you’re drunk.”

“I don’t! ” you yelled.

Yeonjun just beamed, clearly storing every bit of that info for later. “Good to know.”

And when Karina disappeared again, he leaned down one more time.

“Apartment or car?” he whispered.

“Door’s right there,” you said, breathless.

“Then let’s go. I’m not wasting another night not having you.”

You barely made it past the door before Yeonjun had you pressed up against it, his mouth claiming yours like he couldn’t breathe unless he had you. His hands roamed—one sliding up your thigh, hitching your dress up slightly, the other braced by your head.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, and god, he groaned into the kiss like he was finally tasting something he’d been starving for.

"You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he muttered against your lips, "how many times I’ve had to walk away from you because I thought I didn’t stand a chance."

You whispered against his skin, “Then don’t walk away now.”

That flipped a switch.

He lifted you easily, like you weighed nothing, carrying you deeper into your apartment as your legs wrapped around his waist. You were both laughing into each other’s mouths, breathless, drunk off each other, barely able to navigate the hallway from how distracted he was getting with your neck, your shoulder, your little whimpers every time his teeth grazed skin.

He found your bedroom like he lived there—you wouldn’t be surprised if he had the blueprint memorized at this point.

You landed on your back, dress hitched up, Yeonjun crawling over you with the softest grin and the hungriest look in his eyes. His fingers traced your thigh slowly, reverently, and he leaned in close, lips brushing your ear.

“Tell me to stop.”

You looked up at him, pupils blown, lips swollen, heart thundering.

“Don’t you dare.”

He kissed you again—slower this time, deeper. Like he was trying to pour three years’ worth of tension, longing, and restraint into every movement. His hands were everywhere—memorizing you, worshipping you like you were something he’d dreamed about for too damn long.

Clothes came off in between feverish kisses and whispered confessions.

“You always made me nervous,” he admitted against your shoulder. 

“You made me crazy,” you replied, threading your fingers through his hair. 

“You’re making me lose my mind right now.”

You smiled, breathless, lips brushing his. “Good. I want to drive you insane.”

And oh, you did.

Every roll of your hips had Yeonjun cursing under his breath, his grip on your waist bruising as he held you down against him. The friction was delicious, every slow grind of his cock in you dragging a groan from his throat that vibrated against your collarbone as he buried his face there, panting like he was losing control—and god, he was.

“Fuck, baby…” he breathed, hands roaming over every curve, every inch of skin like he didn’t know where to touch first. “You feel—god, you feel so good.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling just hard enough to make him growl. He pushed his hips up into yours with a desperation that made your head spin, and the sound that left your throat was shameless—needy and breathless and entirely his fault.

“You like teasing me, huh?” he whispered, voice low and ragged as his lips trailed down your neck. “Grinding on me like this… wearing that dress like you didn’t know what it’d do to me?”

His hand slid down, fingers gripping under your thigh to guide your rhythm—slower, deeper, making your breath catch.

“You’ve been in my head for years, Y/N. You have no idea what you do to me.”

Your reply was a whimper against his lips, your hands slipping beneath his shirt, nails dragging down his back as your bodies moved in sync—hot, slick, desperate for more but not ready to stop tasting each other yet. He kissed you hard, messy, tongue claiming yours as your hips rolled again, earning another moan from him, rougher this time.

It wasn’t just sex.

It was years of holding back, crashing into one night of hands and mouths and whispered confessions between kisses. A fever that wouldn’t break until you both came undone in each other’s arms.

And he wasn’t stopping until he had all of you—sighs, moans, trembling legs, and whispered “Yeonjun”s falling from your lips like they were meant for him and him only.

The sun hadn’t fully risen yet—warm light leaking in through the curtains, casting soft gold over tangled sheets and bare skin. Yeonjun was still on his back, chest rising and falling beneath you, but his eyes—dark, half-lidded, hungry—never left yours.

“Couldn’t get enough last night?” he rasped, voice ruined from moaning your name into the dark hours ago.

You smirked, slow and dangerous, palms splayed across his chest as you leaned down, brushing your lips over his just barely. “Did I say I was done?”

His hands found your hips in an instant—like they’d memorized the shape of you already—thumbs dragging lazy circles into your skin as you sank down on him again, slow and deliberate. The breath he let out? Shaky. Deep. A low groan that shot straight through you.

“Shit, baby—” he hissed, head falling back into the pillow, jaw clenched like he was trying not to lose it. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You rolled your hips, grinding against him, watching the way his lips parted, the way his grip on your waist tightened. The way his eyes fluttered shut when you clenched around him on purpose, testing his control.

"You look good like this," you whispered, leaning in, kissing just below his ear. "All needy underneath me."

Yeonjun’s response was to buck his hips up—hard—and you gasped, hands flying to his chest for balance, a moan slipping from your lips before you could stop it. He grinned, smug and breathless.

“Thought you were in charge, sweetheart?”

You were. Oh, you were. And you showed him exactly how much—riding him slow at first, then faster, chasing that high again as the room filled with nothing but the sound of skin meeting skin, choked moans, and the low, filthy things he was whispering against your lips.

“Faster, baby—fuck, just like that—” 

“You feel so good—so tight—” 

“I’m not gonna last if you keep looking at me like that.”

It was messy, desperate, bodies slick with heat and want. You moved like you needed him to feel everything—every roll, every clench, every shake of your thighs as you pushed him right to the edge.

And when he came undone beneath you, cursing your name like a prayer, holding you tight like you were the only thing that existed—you knew neither of you were walking out of this as just “friends from high school” again.

No. 

This was the beginning of something else entirely.

Your phone lit up from where it had been abandoned on the nightstand, buzzing nonstop like it was ready to expose your sins to the world.

Karina: so???? Karina: did you ride him or nah??? Karina: yk what nvm—i saw his post of you Karina: YOU'RE DONE.

You slapped a hand over your face, burying deeper into the sheets, the scent of him still clinging to every inch of your skin. God. You were sore in places you didn’t even know could be sore. Your thighs were still trembling. And to make it worse, you could hear the faint sound of Winter giggling in the kitchen through your phone speaker—she was apparently replaying the video of you stumbling into Yeonjun’s apartment last night, all breathless and flustered.

Then—

Karina: he’s in the shower, right? get in there and make it round 3, queen. don’t let those thighs rest yet.

Your face burned.

Before you could throw your phone into the void, the bathroom door creaked open and Yeonjun peeked out, hair wet, towel slung low on his hips, steam curling around him like he walked out of a drama fantasy.

“What’s got you hiding like that?” he grinned, leaning on the doorframe. “Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”

You threw a pillow at him. He caught it with one hand, cocky as ever, then walked over and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I left the water running, y’know,” he murmured, hand trailing under the sheets, over your knee. “You can still join me. I’ll be gentle…”

You snorted. “You? Gentle? After last night?”

“Okay,” he laughed, leaning down until his forehead rested against yours. “Maybe not. But you weren’t exactly complaining.”

You gave him a shove, but your fingers curled into his towel anyway. “Five more minutes, then I’ll come. You better not waste all the hot water.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a smirk, kissing the corner of your lips. “I’ll keep you warm.”

cut to Karina and Winter on the group chat an hour later:

Winter: guys she's not answering. she’s either dead or— Karina: no babe she’s just being put in missionary with love rn. Winter: god i hope so. she deserves it.

The bathroom was warm with steam, water fogging up the mirror as you leaned back against the tile, chest heaving, lips swollen from how hungrily he had kissed you the moment the door closed.

Yeonjun didn’t waste time.

“Turn around,” he whispered, voice hoarse, hands trailing down your hips like he was savoring every inch. “Wanna see you dripping for me.”

And you did. The second your hands touched the wall, he stepped closer—his body flush against yours, hard and already twitching at the sight of your ass arching back toward him.

“Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he groaned, pressing kisses down your neck before biting at your shoulder, making you gasp.

His fingers slid between your thighs, parting you open with practiced ease, teasing your entrance while the water beat down on your skin. “Still so wet,” he murmured, like he didn’t just have you moaning his name minutes ago.

“You gonna keep teasing me or—”

He pushed in all at once.

The moan that ripped from your throat was shameless.

So was the way your hands flew to the wall to support yourself, legs already shaking. “Y-Yeonjun—”

“Say it again,” he hissed into your ear, snapping his hips hard against yours, “Say my name.”

“Yeonjun!”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he growled, fingers gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. “This pretty pussy’s mine now, yeah?”

You nodded desperately, gasping when he pulled out almost entirely—only to slam back in deeper, harder, hitting that spot that made your whole body jolt.

And he didn’t stop.

He fucked you like he’d been waiting years for this. Like he needed to memorize every sound you made, every time your voice broke from pleasure, every time your walls clenched around him so tight he had to bite back a moan of his own.

The slap of skin echoed with the water, your breath fogging up the glass as your hands braced against the tiles.

“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m close,” you whimpered, and Yeonjun’s hand reached around to rub your clit in tight, firm circles.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathed. “Let go for me.”

And you did—with a cry, legs trembling, walls fluttering around him like a vice, pulling him right over the edge with you.

He groaned your name into your skin, thrusts becoming erratic until he spilled inside you, hips stuttering before finally stilling. He leaned against your back, kissing your shoulder lazily as the water continued to pour over your bodies.

You were both breathless, soaked, and ruined.

“Holy shit,” you laughed weakly. “That was…”

“A religious experience?” he offered with a smirk, kissing the corner of your mouth.

You swatted at him, half-laughing, half-mortified. “You’re so annoying.”

“You love it,” he said, nuzzling into your neck. “And now you’re stuck with me.”

You didn’t say it out loud—but yeah. You were.

Very happily stuck.

The towel was barely hanging on your hips, your legs trembling as Yeonjun scooped you up from the shower floor—literally. You clung to him, chest against his, your head dropping to his shoulder as he carried you out like you were weightless.

“Gonna kill me, Junnie,” you mumbled, voice hoarse, barely audible.

He chuckled, smug and breathless. “You started it, sweetheart.”

“You started it... back in high school,” you slurred, half-sassy, half-gone.

Yeonjun grinned so wide his cheeks ached. “So you have been thinking about me.”

“Nooo,” you whined as he laid you down on the soft of his bed, sheets cool against your heated skin. “Can’t even feel my legs. You broke me.”

“You’re being dramatic,” he teased, tucking the blanket over you and kissing your damp forehead. “You were riding me like a champ twenty minutes ago.”

You groaned, pulling the blanket over your head. “Don’t remind me.”

“Why not?” he cooed, slipping under the covers beside you. “I was gonna ask if you were up for another round.”

You yanked the blanket tighter over your face. “Yeonjun.”

“What?” His hand snuck under the blanket to rub gentle circles into your thigh. “You’re the one making those little noises when I kiss your neck like this…” He leaned down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the spot just beneath your ear, smirking when your breath hitched.

“Yeonjun.”

“You’re saying my name again. I love that.”

You peeked out from under the covers, giving him your most exasperated glare. “My pussy’s literally sore.”

Yeonjun’s smirk faltered—but not from guilt. No, he looked even more wrecked by that. He groaned lowly, head dropping to your shoulder. “Don’t say that unless you want me to stay hard forever.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“And you’re irresistible.” He lifted his head, brushing a kiss to your lips. “Get some rest, baby. I’ll deal with the boner you gave me in the shower.”

You blinked at him. “Again?”

“Look,” he said, dramatically. “I got a naked, dripping wet goddess grinding on me, saying my name like a prayer—and then had to carry her limp body to bed. What else was I supposed to do in there?”

You giggled, cheeks burning. “You’re sick.”

“I’m in love,” he corrected, brushing hair from your face. “And maybe a little sick.”

You hummed, snuggling closer. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I know,” he whispered, kissing the crown of your head. “Sleep, baby. I’ll be here.”

And he was��pressing light kisses to your temple as your breathing slowed, arms wrapped protectively around your sore, satisfied body.

Still hard. Still down bad. Still so stupidly in love.

a/n: hi y'all. I've been gone again for quite a while and my fanfics are rotting in my drafts on wattpad lmao. i made like, another yeonjun fic. DW this ff is already finished but it might take me a while to post it again cause like i said, my laptop broke and editing here on a phone is not efficient. i survived though. LMK IF I FORGOT ANYTHING THAT I SHOULD'VE POSTED.

also, repost the post if you want to be added in the taglist :)) THANKYOU FOR READINGGGG MWAS

[naomiarai]

yeonjun — things he would say during sex

— “sweet pussy, can i eat you out?”

— “your ass is not the only thing turning red if you close your legs again”

— “fuckk angel, don't clench or i'll get you pregnant real quick”

— “oh yeah? daddy's makes you feel so full? i know, baby, i know”

— “shit, look at the mess you made! what punishment should i give you?”

— “you're so fucking gorgeous, all mine aren't you?”

— “that's it, let go, god you squirted!, that's so hot, you're so hot”

— “you feel so good, wanna stay like this forever”

— “where'd you get such pretty tits from huh?”

— “gosh, have i fucked you dumb already? can't give me a kiss either?”

— “ride me doll, show me what i taught you, get your pussy wet”

— “you wan' it there? wan' me to cum there? beg”

— “too much? what's your safeword? oh? gonna keep your mouth shut after all”

— “call in sick tomorrow, i'm sure you're not walking for the next week”

— “doll, use your words, and then i'll fuck you”

— “did i make this cunt wet? just a lil kissing got your head spinning? sweet girl”

— “feels good doesn't it? you like this position huh? you're so sexy”

— “i'll make you cum so hard baby, just wait and watch, i'll make you chant my name”

— “so fucking eager, greedy pussy, greedy girl, so hungry for cock aren't you?

— “can i cum on your face? please?”

— “pretty girl, gonna fuck you full, have you leaking”

— “wan' my cock, fingers or mouth baby? all? cock slut”

— “faster? harder? fuck! you wan' more?”

— “take it! fuck– take it! you're made for this”

— “touch yourself for me, give me a show, show me how desperate you are”

— “finish what you started, go on, feels so good grinding doesn't it?”

— “open your mouth for me baby, be a good girl and suck won't you?”

— “don't have a condom, can i fuck you raw?”

— “you'll cum, don't worry, once you've learned your lesson”

— “one more time baby? got you”

— “smile for the camera”

[beomie3]

lavender - choi yeonjun

boyfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader

content: established relationship, period sex, yeonjun pampers you after being in pain from cramps all day, runs you a lavender bath, soothes your period cramps with a special remedy ;)

warning: fluff & smut, cursing, bath sex, cream pie, fingering, cramps </3, extreme princess treatment <3

wc: 2.5k

♫ lavender - laundry day

“junieeeeeeee” your voice comes out muffled from under your pillow, face stuffed in it as a strong wave of cramps tighten in your abdomen.

your face is scrunched as tight as you can get it, fists clenched around the linen of the pillowcase, wrinkling it in the same spot all day as your cramps came and went as they pleased.

“another one baby?” he runs out from the kitchen, hand towel thrown over his shoulder as he was just preparing you soup for dinner, despite you not having much of an appetite all day.

he comes over to where you laid on the couch, kneeling down next to you and examining your face, a worried pout on his cute lips.

he cupped your face in his palm, his fingers coming up to stroke your hair.

“i’m so sorry,” his eyebrows furrowed, wanting to do everything in his power to help you and hating that he couldn’t just magically make the cramps disappear with the snap of his fingers.

you admitted that the sight of his handsome face briefly distracted you from the anguish, just focusing into the depths of his eyes and letting their deep brown magic entrance you.

just then, you noticed the shape of his eyes change from worrisome to intrigued, like an idea just sparked his mind.

“let me take care of this,” he slightly tilted his head toward you, eyes tentatively searching yours. “okay, baby?”

you nodded, a tiny smile appearing on the corner of your lip as he fiddled with the ends of your hair.

"come here," he cooed, leaning down to scoop you up in his arms, hands sliding beneath your shoulder blades, his chest pressing into yours as you inhaled his fresh scent.

"up we go," he lifted you so that your chest was pressed to his, legs wrapped around his hips, chin resting against his shoulder; body limp in his arms. he carried you down the dim hallway of your shared apartment and into the bedroom, where he laid you down onto the fluffy sheets, still unmade from this morning.

he covered you with the sheets as you curled up into a ball on the bed, quickly running into the bathroom and you heard the squeak of the faucet followed by the cascade of water in the tub. he was running you a warm bath; exactly what you needed.

the white noise of running water in the distance was so soothing, you could’ve dozed off for a while. he was taking a bit longer than usual to run this bath, you admitted. so much longer, that you began to wonder what he was doing in there.

he came back into the room with your fluffy white robe and your slippers, bringing a genuine smile to your lips at his thoughtfulness.

“let me help you love,” he helped you sit up, a gentle hand on your lower stomach softly adding pressure in small circular motions. he helped you slide out of your clothes from today, technically still your pajamas since it was an incredibly lazy day.

you noticed his eyes linger on your chest for a second longer, knowing he couldn’t never resist the sight of your soft, bare chest.

he caught your eye and his cheeks turned the slightest hue of scarlet, helping you into your cozy robe; so much better. leaving your underwear on so you wouldn’t stain the sheets, you sat at the edge of the bed.

“ready? here let me carry you there,” his arms were already extended out to you and you weakly laughed.

“yeonjun- i can walk you know…” you scooted to the edge of the bed, and just as you were going to stand up, a cramp hit you right in the guts. the worst one of today.

you immediately curled back into your ball from earlier, and he knew right away when he saw you clutch your stomach.

“oh baby,” he laid next to you, eyebrows furrowed, lips pouting. he knew you needed space in this moment, so he offered his hand as something you could squeeze while your cramps subsided.

his hands were always so soft, so delicate. you even felt bad squeezing them too hard.

“never mind, i probably can’t walk,” your voice came out small, followed by a weak laugh.

“the warm water will feel nice,” he softly pecked your neck, just under your ear.

picking you up softly, barely enough to even know you were being picked up at all if it weren’t for your eyes fluttering open; he carried you through the dim hallway again, gently kicking the bathroom door open.

you expected the lights to be on, but the bathroom was dim; only orange flickers casted against the wall by candlelight.

he carefully set you down back onto your feet and you admired what he had done. the bath was filled with bubbles and rose petals, accompanied by a tray of your favorite snacks and drinks. scented candles flickering enough to light the bath. it was exactly what you needed.

kneeling to the ground, yeonjun held you by your hips to keep you standing while he helped slip off your underwear. his eyes were tender on you, gently tracing your hip bones as he hooked a finger under the elastic of you underwear and slipped it off slowly.

you couldn’t help but feel a gentle heat grow in between your legs. he knew what he was doing, that’s for damn sure.

“c’mon baby i’ll help you in,” he stood up slowly, towering over you, eyes never leaving yours. like they were undressing you, although you were already naked.

he took each of your hands, leading you to the bathtub, there to help you balance as you stepped in, one foot at a time.

the water wasn’t scalding hot, but it was hot enough to make you sigh in relief. a slightly painful but pleasurable burn.

he helped lower you to the water inch by inch until you were totally in, bubbles fluffing up around your body. you inhaled the soothing lavender scent of the steam: he had added lavender oil and a purple bath bomb to the water. he is so special.

he stayed there with you, kneeling by the side of the bathtub. not much was said, but a lot of looks were interchanged. his eyes were tender, small smile on his lips.

he sat crisscross on the rug on the other side of the bath, hands gently sloshing the bubbles over your skin, fingers massaging the knots in your shoulders. his kind energy flowed throughout you.

the hot water is so soothing against your aching belly and tense muscles. every month, he always treats you, gives you what you deserve and no less.

he lathers a loofah up with oatmeal-lavender soap, gently rubbing it in circles against your wet skin. the sensation is so relaxing you could drift off into a deep sleep.

he gently moves a piece of your hair that had fallen out of your updo with the gentle trace of his touch. he is so gentle with you.

you watch him as he is busy washing you up, love sparking in the depths of your eyes. how did you find such an all-around amazing and caring man?

you’re attentive to his hand that is resting on your thigh underwater, rubbing circles on your knee with the swipe of his thumb.

“junie,” your voice echoes from the pink tile of your bathroom. his eyes glow as they meet yours, 100% of his attention on you at an instant.

you don’t say anything else but lean forward to kiss him. he kisses you back with so much passion, like he’s been dying to kiss you this entire time but didn’t want to disrupt your peace.

he gently scrubs the soap around your chest, abandoning the loofah and using his bare hand to rub the slick foam over the soft, tender skin. he knows your boobs are sore because of your period, so he is extra gentle.

the heat immediately returns to your aching core, making the urge even worse. you need him.

“i need you,” you whisper against his lips and he knows what to do before you even speak any further. he sits up, quickly slipping his black tank top off, hair tousled by the material.

“oh baby, i’ll make you feel so good,” he leans into the kiss, sensing his hand trail even closer to your heat, throbbing by now with how badly it ached for him. you’re so wet, even underwater.

his tongue enters your mouth as his fingers meet your bundle of nerves, so sensitive that you slightly jolt with the pressure.

you let your head fall back onto the shower wall as you sigh in bliss and he kisses your neck, rubbing delicious circles over your clit. he knows exactly what pace you need.

“that’s it love, relax,” he kisses the place under your ear as he watches you melt into his touch, mouth slightly agape in pleasure.

your mouth widens into an o-shape when he slowly sinks one finger into you, entering you with ease with how slick you are.

his kisses are soft against your neck, perfect lips caressing your skin. not too rough yet not too faint. his precise kisses make the pleasure all the more intense. his other hand gently fondled your breasts, thumbs soft over your perked-up nipples.

you were climbing up the mountain of pleasure, but some horny monster inside of you needed something more. something bigger.

“yeonjun i… need you so bad,” you managed to speak through gritted teeth. his fingers felt so good but you felt so greedy in this moment. you could sense the orgasm; how much more intense it would be if you were wrapped around his cock.

“whatever you want, my love,” he presses a kiss to your forehead and you sense that a grin had spread across his face at hearing your words.

he stands and your eyes follow, watching him untie the strings of his sweatpants, dropping them to the floor to discover a stiff imprint that sticks out through his boxers.

your legs squeeze together under the water; you just can’t wait to sit on him, feel the delicious stretch. oh you couldn’t wait.

it’s like he’s teasing you with how slowly he removes his boxers, just waiting for his member to spring up and out when he removes them completely. and sure enough, it slaps up against his abdomen, tip dark red and so ready for you.

you scoot over so that he can step into the warm water, watching the bubbles slosh around when he sits all the way down. he helps you maneuver yourself so that he’s sitting up, legs stretched out in the tub and you’re straddling him, chest pressed to his.

like magnets, your lips reunite and continue what they were doing before, just this time you grind against him, bodies doing all the talking.

some of the lavender oil yeonjun added to the water helps you slide against one another’s skin, the feeling simply addictive as you sense his tip nudge against your throbbing clit.

he senses your urgency and pulls back from the kiss, glancing down at himself; he is rock hard but this isn’t about him. it’s about your pleasure. that’s what he’s all about.

“wanna sit down on it? hm?” his words make your heart race and you nod, nearly feverish with just how badly you want him. he guides you with a firm grasp on your waist, helping you lift up your hips as you align yourself with his tip.

sliding down onto him completely bare, you thought you could explode. you felt every single vein, pulse, twitch. it felt so good against your sore and aching walls.

“oh god yeonjun,” you were nearly speechless once you sat down all the way onto him, feeling his tip kiss the depths of your walls. he felt so full, but the stretch was so amazing, such a good ache.

his eyes were full of need but he was so patient and let you take the time to adjust to his size. he wanted you to use him, pleasure yourself with him. his soft fingers over your skin was entrancing, cock pulsating within you even though you hadn't even begun to move.

“knock yourself out baby,” he held your chin with his fingers, kissing your lips gently and you felt you would go insane with the sound of those words echo throughout the bathroom.

with two hands on his chest to keep you stable, you begin to ride him. starting off slow, and then picking up the pace when you adjusted to his size a bit better. god did he feel amazing around your aching walls.

the eye contact you made could make you orgasm all on its own. his fierce eyes staring up at you and boarding into your soul, mouth agape as he moaned and encouraged you to ride his cock until your hearts content.

he knew a good orgasm would help and oh god are you close. he had already edged you slightly before this, the build-up was so satisfying.

you were in a daze; body still a bit limp and weak from all of the pain you experienced today yet you rode him with passion, feeling your entire body melt around him. he sensed your walls tense up and you threw your head back, eyes shut as you felt his every pulse and throb.

you bounced on him more aggressively now and in his eyes, you were the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. the way your head was thrown back pleasuring yourself with him, your pretty moans echoing throughout the dim bathroom, candlelight gleaming against your skin like silk.

lavender bath water sloshed and some spilled over and out but neither of you cared. he just watched you and guided you with a firm grip on your waist and you climbed to your orgasm until it hit you like a truck.

a few more rolls of your hips and his tip massaged against your g-spot one last time until a loud slew of moans echoed throughout the bathroom and your body tensed. it was an earth-shattering orgasm. your muscles fluttered all around him sporadically and it drove him to his climax, catching his moans with a deep kiss as he spilled inside of you.

the sensation was so warm and fuzzy within you so much so that your body just collapsed onto his chest. every ache and pain completely left your abdomen and you swore you were in heaven.

his arms wrapped around you as his soft lips kissed your forehead repeatedly, whispering sweet things into your hair as you huffed in unison. he was your everything.

~

the night went as follows: he cleaned you up and wrapped you in a warm linen towel, carrying you to bed where he helped you into some fresh jammies (his oversized t-shirt and basketball shorts). of course, he brought you your soup and a heating pad just in case, along with some of your favorite sea salt chocolate and some ice cream <3 you both watched movies the rest of the night, and you knew he'd help your every need, no matter how messy it got ;)

author's note: thank you so much for reading!!! and thank you so so much for over 900 followers and for the endless support, you each mean so much to me <33333

[seoulzie]

ditched and delirious

SYNOPSIS: deserted by your friends in the chilling haunted house, you bump into yeonjun, another soul stranded in the same spooky predicament.

彡 pairing: stranger!yeonjun x reader 彡 genre: crack, fluff 彡 warnings: jumpscares & a lil romantic tension ;)

SEUL SPEAKS! this is based on something that actually happened to me except i never got my candied apples so im turning my trauma into purpose !!

halloween had always been a magical time for you. ever since you were a child, the arrival of october brought an unparalleled sense of excitement and anticipation. the crisp autumn air, filled with the scent of fallen leaves and pumpkin spice, made everything feel more vibrant and alive. you loved how the world transformed, embracing the whimsical and the spooky with equal enthusiasm.

each year, you meticulously planned your halloween costume, often starting weeks in advance. you enjoyed every step of the process, from brainstorming ideas to putting the finishing touches on your outfit. the creativity and imagination that halloween inspired were unmatched by any other holiday. the colorful costumes, from classic witches and vampires to more unique and creative characters, always fascinated you. walking down the streets and seeing the array of costumes made you feel like you were part of a grand, fantastical story.

this year was no different. you had been looking forward to halloween for months, and your friends had been buzzing with excitement about the new amusement park that had recently opened in town. the park promised an unforgettable experience with its elaborate halloween decorations, spooky attractions, and, most notably, the scariest haunted house in the area. despite your initial reservations about haunted houses, your friends' infectious enthusiasm was hard to resist.

the amusement park was a sight to behold. as you and your friends entered, you were greeted by towering scarecrows, giant inflatable pumpkins, and cobwebs that seemed to stretch endlessly. the air was filled with the sound of eerie music and the occasional scream from one of the haunted attractions. everywhere you looked, there were people dressed in costumes, their faces lit up with excitement and anticipation.

your group had arrived early in the afternoon to make the most of the day. you rode roller coasters that twisted and turned, leaving your heart racing and your adrenaline pumping. the feeling of the wind in your hair and the weightless drops made you scream and laugh in equal measure. between the rides, you indulged in the array of carnival food. you couldn't resist the smell of freshly made funnel cakes, and you and your friends shared cotton candy and funnel cakes, making sure to sample a little bit of everything.

the games were another highlight of the day. you tried your hand at the ring toss, aimed for the highest score at the shooting gallery, and even managed to win a small stuffed ghost at the balloon dart game. each victory, no matter how small, was celebrated with cheers and high fives. the carefree fun of the amusement park made you forget your initial hesitations about the haunted house.

as the sun began to set, the park transformed. the cheerful, bright atmosphere of the day gave way to a more mysterious and eerie vibe. strings of orange and purple lights illuminated the pathways, casting a haunting glow. fog machines created an otherworldly mist that floated around your feet, and the sound of distant, ghostly laughter echoed through the air.

the anticipation for the haunted house grew with each passing hour. your friends couldn't stop talking about it, sharing stories of previous haunted house experiences and speculating about what horrors awaited inside. they showed you pictures from the amusement park's website, showcasing the elaborate and terrifying decorations that awaited you. 

by the time you made your way to the entrance of the haunted house, the sky was dark, and the moon hung high, casting a pale light over the park. the haunted house stood before you, a massive, decrepit mansion with eerie lights flickering in the windows and fog rolling down the steps. the intricate decorations were both impressive and terrifying, creating an atmosphere that sent a shiver down your spine.

"are we really doing this?" you asked, trying to sound braver than you felt.

"come on, it'll be fun!" one of your friends said, giving you a reassuring nudge. you noticed the mischievous glint in their eyes but brushed it off, thinking they were just excited. they had been talking about this haunted house for weeks, hyping it up with stories of how terrifying and thrilling it was supposed to be. you tried to feed off their enthusiasm, but the knot of anxiety in your stomach only tightened.

as you took a tentative step forward, the creaking of the gate made you jump. your friends laughed, their faces lit up with excitement and anticipation. you forced a smile, hoping to mirror their bravery, but inside, you were already regretting your decision. the ticket taker at the entrance, dressed in tattered victorian clothing and sporting a disturbingly realistic ghostly pallor, handed you your tickets with a sinister grin.

"enjoy your stay," he said in a low, gravelly voice that sent chills down your spine.

with a deep breath, you stepped inside. the moment you crossed the threshold, the temperature seemed to drop, and the atmosphere became even more oppressive. the sound of creaking doors and distant screams filled the air, creating an unsettling symphony of terror. dim, flickering lights barely illuminated the narrow, winding corridors, casting long, eerie shadows that danced on the walls.

you clung to your friends, trying to steady your nerves. every corner seemed to hold a new horror, from ghastly apparitions that materialized out of thin air to grotesque figures that lunged at you from hidden alcoves. the haunted house was a labyrinth of terror, with each turn bringing fresh waves of fear. the animatronics were disturbingly lifelike, their movements jerky and unnatural, their eyes following you with a malevolent gleam.

as you navigated through the dark, narrow hallways filled with jump scares and creepy animatronics, you realized something alarming: your friends were nowhere to be found. panic set in as you spun around, calling out their names, but the only response was the echo of your voice and the occasional sinister laugh from the haunted house's speakers. your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt the walls closing in. alone in the haunted house, every shadow seemed to move, and every sound made you jump.

the narrow hallway you found yourself in was lined with portraits whose eyes seemed to follow your every move. the floorboards creaked ominously underfoot, and the walls seemed to close in with each step you took. you turned a corner and found yourself face-to-face with a mirror. in the dim light, your reflection appeared ghostly and distorted. a flicker of movement behind you made you whirl around, but there was nothing there.

"guys? this isn't funny!" you called out, your voice echoing back at you. a cold sweat trickled down your back as the realization set in that your friends had deliberately left you alone as part of a prank. the mischievous glint in their eyes earlier suddenly made sense, and you felt a mix of fear and anger. you were stuck in a nightmare, and your friends were nowhere to be found.

you tried to retrace your steps, but the layout of the haunted house was disorienting. every hallway looked the same, and the constant barrage of scares kept you on edge. a mechanical zombie lunged out of the darkness, its eyes glowing a sickly green. you stumbled back, your heart racing, and took a wrong turn into a room filled with fog.

the fog was thick, swirling around your ankles and making it difficult to see more than a few feet ahead. the room was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft whisper of the fog machine. you moved cautiously, every sense on high alert. the fog seemed to part just enough to reveal a path, and you followed it, hoping it would lead you to an exit or at least a familiar part of the house.

as you navigated through the fog-filled room, you felt a growing sense of unease. shadows moved at the edge of your vision, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched. you heard a faint, rhythmic tapping, like fingernails on glass, and your nerves frayed further. you moved faster, desperate to find your way out of this nightmare.

suddenly, you bumped into someone, and you screamed. the impact sent you stumbling back, and you barely managed to catch yourself before falling. your heart raced as you spun around to face whoever you had collided with.

standing there, looking just as startled as you felt, was a tall, handsome guy with dark hair and wide, frightened eyes. despite the spooky atmosphere, his presence was more comforting than anything else in the haunted house. 

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling. "i didn't see you there."

"it's okay," he replied, his voice just as shaky. "i wasn't expecting to run into anyone either."

you both stood there for a moment, catching your breath. the dim light and swirling fog made it difficult to see clearly, but you could tell that he was just as scared as you were.

"i'm y/n," you said, trying to break the tension. "are you here alone too?"

"yeah, my friends thought it would be funny to ditch me," he replied with a nervous laugh. "i'm yeonjun, by the way."

"nice to meet you, yeonjun," you said, managing a small smile. "i guess we're both in the same boat then."

yeonjun nodded, his expression softening. "it seems that way. how about we stick together? it might be less terrifying if we're not alone."

you agreed, feeling a bit of the tension ease. having someone with you, even a stranger, made the haunted house seem a little less menacing. as you started to move through the fog-filled room together, you felt a sense of camaraderie forming.

"have you been through one of these before?" yeonjun asked, his voice breaking the silence.

"not one this intense," you admitted. "i've always liked halloween, but haunted houses have never been my thing. what about you?"

"same here," yeonjun said. "i usually avoid them, but my friends convinced me this time. i didn't think they'd actually leave me here alone."

"me neither," you said, shaking your head. "i thought it was just going to be a fun night out."

you both laughed, the sound a welcome relief from the constant tension of the haunted house. as you continued to talk, you felt yourself relaxing a bit more. yeonjun's presence was comforting, and the conversation helped to distract you from the scares lurking around every corner.

just as you started to feel a bit more at ease, a loud bang echoed through the room, followed by a figure lunging out of the darkness. you screamed and instinctively threw yourself at yeonjun. he yelped in surprise, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

for a moment, you both stood there, clinging to each other, hearts racing. then you realized that the figure was just another animatronic, and you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"you scared me more than that clown!" yeonjun said, trying to catch his breath.

"i could say the same about you!" you replied, still giggling.

the shared scare broke the ice completely. as you continued, you noticed that yeonjun, despite his initial fear, was trying his best to be brave for you. his attempts at bravery were endearing, and you felt a growing fondness for him.

the haunted house continued to challenge your nerves with more intense scares and intricate scenes. at one point, you found yourselves in a room filled with eerie whispers and dim candlelight. yeonjun took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"just a little longer," he said softly.

as you cautiously moved forward, the floor suddenly erupted with the sound of firecrackers being stepped on. startled, both of you began jumping around in panic, but each step only caused more firecrackers to go off. the room echoed with the cracking sounds, creating a chaotic symphony that made it hard to think straight.

"fuck!" you screamed, trying to find a safe spot to stand, but the relentless popping continued.

"watch out!" yeonjun shouted, but it was too late. both of you stumbled over your feet, finally collapsing onto the ground and catching your breath. lying there, you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation's absurdity, the initial fear giving way to a sense of shared relief.

the next room plunged you into suffocating darkness. a sound, like nails scraping bone, skittered across the floor. yeonjun's grip on your hand tightened, his fingers digging into your palm. you shuffled forward, your fear a distant echo compared to the cold dread radiating off him.

suddenly, a figure lunged at you from the shadows, and you both screamed in unison, clutching onto each other in a moment of pure terror.

yeonjun's reaction was immediate and instinctive. without thinking, he pulled you in front of him, using you as a shield against the approaching figure. his heart pounded wildly against your back as he pressed you protectively against himself, his whole body trembling with fear.

you could feel his ragged breath against your neck, and it matched the frantic rhythm of your own heartbeat. the figure hesitated, realizing the scare had backfired, and retreated into the darkness, leaving behind an eerie silence.

for a moment, you both stood frozen, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. then, with shaky breaths, you turned to face each other in the dim light filtering through the fog.

"sorry," yeonjun muttered, his voice barely audible. "i... i panicked."

"it's okay," you assured him softly, turning to face him with a comforting smile despite the lingering fear.

you took a few deep breaths to steady your nerves before cautiously continuing through the haunted house.

"you know," yeonjun said, trying to lighten the mood, "if we survive this, we should definitely get some candied apples together."

"i'd like that," you replied, smiling despite the lingering fear.

as you walked out of the haunted house hand in hand, relieved to be out of the terrifying atmosphere, you noticed your friends waiting eagerly outside. their faces lit up with anticipation, ready to catch your reaction to the scare fest they had orchestrated.

instead, their expressions turned from anticipation to utter bafflement as they watched you and yeonjun approach, hands intertwined. you could practically see the question marks forming over their heads as they exchanged confused glances.

"hey, guys," you greeted them casually, trying to ignore their bewildered stares. "meet yeonjun. we... uh, ran into each other inside."

yeonjun smiled warmly at your friends, his hand still firmly clasped in yours. "nice to meet you all."

your friends managed awkward hellos in response, still processing the unexpected turn of events. they had planned to prank you, not witness you leaving the haunted house hand in hand with a guy you had just met inside.

"we were just about to head over to the carnival games," one of your friends finally managed to say, trying to break the awkward silence. they shot you a playful grin, eyebrows raised suggestively.

"yeah, come join us," another friend chimed in hastily, shooting you a curious glance. "or are you two planning to haunt the rest of the park together?"

you chuckled nervously, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. glancing at yeonjun, you couldn't help but ask, "what about your friends?"

yeonjun shrugged nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in his eye. "man, forget them," he replied with a grin. "they ditched me back there in that house."

your friends exchanged surprised glances, not expecting such a blunt response. "looks like you're stuck with her now!" one of them teased with a laugh.

"we'll be by the carousel if you need us," another friend chimed in playfully, "just one call away!"

as your friends started walking away, you and yeonjun started walking toward the direction of the candied apples stand, and you heard your friends' laughter trailing behind you.

"so, about those apples?" yeonjun nudged you gently, a playful glint in his eyes.

you chuckled, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of spending more time with him. "lead the way."

with each step, hand in hand, you and yeonjun continued down the path illuminated by twinkling halloween lights, anticipating a cozy and memorable end to your adventurous night.

⋆˚࿔ taglist! @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @inkigayocamman , @beombeomlovesme ⤷ want to get notified? click here!

© 2024 seoulzie

[blackhairedjjun]

aquarium date with yeonjun

short yeonjun x gn!reader thoughts, established relationship, pure fluff, inspired by his instagram photos | 562 words

this blog, including this fic, will be deleted soon. to save this fic, read it on ao3.

every day you are reminded of why you're so damn in love with yeonjun.

for example: today, on the surprise aquarium date he brought you to, you find yourself watching him more than the actual fish. you can't help it - you love the gleam in his eyes when he watches a stingray passing by, or the little shoulder shimmy he does when he mimicks a fish swimming in a funny way, or the way he turns to look at you when you pass by the shark tank.

"did you see that?!" he says, his mouth open and eyes wide. his head whips back and forth between the shark and you. "so cool..."

he stops plenty of times to snap photos of his favorite fish and send them to his group chat with the boys, or to his chat with you.

"but i'm right here," you say. "why do you need to send the pictures of the fish?"

"i know you're gonna ask for them after, so i'm sending them right away," he says with a wry smile. "we can look at the pictures together in the car."

you smile in response, your eyes crinkling. yeonjun thinks it's the prettiest thing in the world.

what you don't know is that he feels exactly the same way - while you're mesmerized watching a school of fish dance is a wide circle, he snaps a photo of you. he stops for a moment to admire the awe adorning your face captured at the right time. then, while you're standing in front of a giant glass pane surrounded by nothing but blue, he snaps another photo. how grand you look surrounded by a slice of ocean, he thinks and smiles to himself.

"what are you looking at?"

you catch yeonjun smiling at his phone at waltz over to him.

"at you," he says, and shows you the photo.

you gasp. you hate most photos of yourself, but you have to admit that this one is beautiful: you're posed in front of a canvas of blue, the dim light of the aquarium framing your silhouette. the portrait has an otherwordly yet calming quality to it. it makes you look like a divine spirit of the ocean.

is this how yeonjun really sees you?

a smile spreads across your face as you look at the photo, then up at yeonjun. you see softness in the curve of his smile and light in his eyes. he pockets his phone and reaches his hand towards yours, intertwining your fingers with his.

you lean towards him and glance down at his exposed shoulder where his jacket has fallen off. the urge to shower him with affection rises. how could someone so sweet, so kind, so beautiful, be standing right next to you?

you give in to the urge and leave one kiss on his shoulder, then another, then another...

he looks at you in surprise. a few moments of silence linger as the sensation of your kisses sinks in. and then:

"you drive me crazy, you know?"

and he pulls you toward him, holding you close and swaying you from side to side in between giggles. the aquarium displays are completely forgotten when he's too busy squeezing you and peppering your face with kisses.

every day yeonjun is reminded of why he's so damn in love with you, including today.

[yuoniz]

TAKE ME ON A DATE — CHOI YEONJUN

synopsis . you realise your best friend's feelings for you when you try to play matchmaker

연준 : bsf! yeonjun x fmr 🩰 O.4K — fluff ❨ warnings ❩ skinship, yeonjun lovesick loserrr 𓍼 note — this is repost eurm┆(bookshelf)

“Yeonjun, what about her?” You asked, you pointed in the direction of a girl that was his age.

“What about her?” He asked, his attention fully on you, not even sparing a look at the girl you just pointed at.

You looked back at Yeonjun and placed your fingers on his chin to force him to look at her, “She seems pretty. You should go on a date with her, don’t you think?” You suggested.

“No.”

“What?! You can’t be single forever!” You slightly pouted at him while whining, worried that your bestfriend doesn’t pull. “Even I had a boyfriend.” You said.

But that’s not what he cared about. He didn't care about the girl that you showed him or your ex. He cared about the way your arm was tangled with his, the way your face slightly rested against his shoulder, he cared about you.

“Yeon.” You stood up, looking down at him. “You cannot be single forever. Are you seriously going to die alone? You won’t even have children! I won’t ever become the cool aunt, Jun!” You expressed your worry in which Yeonjun giggled.

“Are you seriously worried about not becoming the cool aunt?” He took your hands in his and gently swung them from left to right.

“Well yeah!”

“Fine, I'll date–” Before he even finished the sentence you jumped in joy and hugged Yeonjun, basically sitting on him.

“Okay tell me who! I’ll set you up with anyone.” You looked at him, waiting for an answer, but what you didn’t realize was that his arm was slowly going around your waist, bringing you closer as if you weren’t already sitting on his lap.

“You.” He smiled softly, his eyes filled with pure adoration.

“What?” You couldn’t register what he had said.

“I wanna go on a date with you.” He shrugged, talking about it like it was just a normal thing.

“Why?”

“Cause I like you.”

You tried to stand up once you realized how close you both were and that Yeonjun saw you in a different light.

“What? You can’t like me!” You said, struggling from his grasp and simultaneously processing what he just told you.

“What? I can’t love now?” Yeonjun questioned.

“Love?” 

You stopped attempting to get away from his grasp to focus entirely on what he had said. It was like the world had stopped just for you two. It felt truly timeless.

“Yeah.” He softly said.

You stopped for a moment, your thoughts completely being the boy whose lap you were sitting on. 

“Fine.” You came to a conclusion, “Take me on a date and I may give you a chance.”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎‎designer yuoniz ! do not copy, repost, translate any of my works

[boba-beom]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ pretty angel | CHOI YEONJUN

⟢ bf!yeonjun x fem!reader

⟢ drabble; fluff, suggestive

⟢ cuddles and morning kisses are always a good start to your day, especially when it's with your cute boyfriend.

⟢ wc: 576

⟢ warnings: established relationship, physical affection, petnames; (baby, angel and princess), domestic boyfriend jjun agenda, kisses and lots of them. let me know if I've missed anything!

⟢ a/n: this is my late birthday gift to my angel, Angie ᡣ𐭩 @junniieesbby. I've been in a slump with writing recently but I really hope you enjoy this one!! getting out cute boyfriend jjunie for the dash :>

turning softly under the duvet of your bed, you're woken up by the warmth of your boyfriend's body radiating next to yours. his lips plush as he pecks at random points along your cheek, down your neck and down to your shoulders until you open your eyes, meeting into his sleepy ones, yet they twinkled as you held eye contact.

"morning cutie, slept well?" yeonjun's hoarse voice rumbles against your shoulder as his arm slings over your still figure.

you let out a hum as you stretch out your arm and letting it drape over yeonjun's broad shoulder when you bring it back down. his smile was incredibly sweet, cheek squished against the pillow and the side of your shoulder.

"I always sleep well when you're beside me, baby."

you giggle to yourself when you felt his hold on get tighter after the simple petname. yeonjun's the most affectionate between the both of you—you of course coming in a close second. but he never fails to compliment you when he feels like you need it the most, or even give you that physical affection, because truthfully it's something you both yearn for when you know you're about to spend the day together.

"aren't you cute," he tucks a stray strand of hair away from your face, cupping your cheek as his thumb caresses your skin. "you look good too."

"agh, what are you talking about." you refuse to believe him knowing just how rough you look in the mornings, but that never changed yeonjun's mind.

he shakes his head, jutting out his bottom lip into a cute pout that makes you want to kiss his lips.

"you're my pretty angel, how can you say that about yourself?" he kisses your shoulder again, this time a little slower. you can feel him dragging his lips along your skin and working his way towards the side of your neck and focusing on that area.

"mmh, you never fail to flatter me, baby." you sigh when his fingers begins to skim over your stomach, feathery touches that made you suck in lightly. "you're too good to me jjunnie."

"just giving you what you deserve, and that's all my love for you sweetheart."

yeonjun's weight on his bed shifts as he lays his body between your legs, burying his face into your neck while he pecks the area non-stop. his kisses managed to give you goosebumps, the tingling spreading across your skin. your giggles and sighs fill his ears and your boyfriend does the same. chuckling against your skin at how cute you are while you react to his kisses.

his hips however, have a mind of their own. rolling in a slow yet delicious rhythm that almost has you bucking your hips up to chase that friction you both are in dire need of.

"so good to me jjunie." you whisper again.

you circle your hands behind his neck and along his broad shoulders and under the neckline of his tank top. the heat of his skin warms up the palms of your hands until you tangle your fingers in his hair at the back of his head.

"wanna have breakfast in bed princess?" he lifts his head as his half lidded eyes look down at you with a cocky grin on display.

you gasp at the feeling of his gentle fingers hooking on the waistband of your shorts, pushing them down until your bare ass hit the sheets beneath you.

"sounds perfect to me."

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

taglist: @bb-eilish @ericyjun @ericyjun @luvsoobs @yeonyeonyeonjun @junniieesbby @kyrkitten @day6andetcetera @dainsleif-when-playable @txt-yaomi @soobinsman @choiwrld @ahnneyong @wccycc @lizdevorak  @fairybin @Laylasbunbunny @acaiasahi @itaehynz @cha0thicpisces @fairybinie @yunkiwii @prodsh00ky @aprilisque @ja4hyvn @https-yeonjun @lovejoshua @seolis-world @jak-ey @smutnoullitheorem @my313

[p0ckykiss]

baby i'm yours - choi yeonjun

summary - yeonjun can't think of not being by your side and you wouldn't have it any other way.

genre - fluff, falling in love, friends to lovers, sharing a room, yeonjun is whipped

"you've been clingy lately. is there something going on that i don't know about?"

yeonjun opts to shake his head, never once letting go of you who's currently squished under the heavy weight of yeonjun's body. yeonjun was left feeling the need to barge into his best friend's room and quite literally tackle you in bed. looking back at it, he figures it's due to the fact that you haven't spent as much time as before, both of you busy with individual schedules and when you did have your free time, you would either be fast asleep or on lenghty calls with your family.

yeonjun isn't upset over that.

this is one of the rare occasions, he thinks. finally getting you alone, all to himself. he missed this.

"you're lucky i already showered." your giggle makes yeonjun shuffle even closer, wrapping his arms around your warm body.

"i would've cuddled you in the shower, too. absolutely no problem."

"i have no doubts about that."

it's been proven to be a real challenge to stay away from you, even for a few minutes. he doesn't like to think of himself as a baby that needs constant attention but it may very well be the case with you and your calming presence. practically glued to your side, he closes his eyes and preens at the way his freshly washed hair is being carded through, long and gentle fingers massaging his scalp from time to time. his whole body goes limp, melting against you when your other hand lays on his broad back and works the stiffness out of his muscles. you lay like that for a while in silence, save for yeonjun's content sighs and your words of appraisal.

"i'm starting to think that you missed me real good."

yeonjun nuzzles his face further in your neck, pulling a breathy laugh from you beneath him at the ticklish movement.

"of course I did." he murmurs against your skin, voice low and affectionate. "didn't you miss me, too, ynie?" one of his hands moves from your waist and slides under your shirt, drawing circles on your skin with his finger. your chuckles turn to full blown laughter and yeonjun's heart soars.

"hey! stop that, it tickles!"

still wriggling and laughing, you try to push yeonjun off the bed. it proves to be a real challenge when he sprawls his body entirely over yours and knocks the breath out of your lungs.

"not until you say it too. do you know how hurt I am? unrequited feelings are no joke, y/n." he fake cries and you slap his back playfully.

"i missed you too, dumbass."

"now can you please move before you kill me?"

yeonjun does as told and settles back beside you, satisfied with himself as your warmth envelopes him again.

"i really mean it, yeonjun. i missed you a lot."

yeonjun can hear the smile in your voice and his heart does a somersault. he knows this feeling all too well.

"i know."

-----

----

"that's not fair! i've been playing this game for months, struggling and wasting all my nights to get this far! what about you? you just waltzed in here and swooped every critical fighter like the sly predatory bird you are!"

"how is that my fault? It's about being lucky, and clearly, luck hasn't been on your side but mine!"

"i'm about to swing this controller at you, beomgyu! don't try me, you know I'd do it."

"oh yeah? do it then."

woken up from the commotion downstairs, you sigh heavily and make your way towards the living room, immediately welcomed by two arguing boys. beomgyu and soobin, having another quarell over video games, while the rest of your roommates watch with either amusement or exasperation. your eyes scan the area until they eventually seize yeonjun's figure in the kitchen, having a glass of water. on your way to the kitchen you pass by an exhausted taehyun who pats your shoulder and moves to break the two rascals apart. you can only laugh at his poor attempts to get beomgyu off soobin's back.

pulling your gaze away from the guys, you return to staring at the object of your affection. yeonjun seems to be spacing out again, that hilarious blank expression making you shake your head in amusement. his hair sticks out in all directions and the urge to run your fingers through it is strong enough to make you do just that. approaching him silently as to not spook him, you settle behind him and caress his soft hair, making him look at least a bit presentable. yeonjun leans against you by instinct and nuzzles his head in the soft hoodie of his best friend.

"morning, sleepyhead. spacing out again?"

yeonjun sets the empty glass on the counter and turns around to circle his arms around your middle. almost falling off his chair, yeonjun looks extremely comical and you move just a bit forward to accomodate him.

"morning.." he mumbles. "the roommates woke me up."

"yeah, me too. was hoping on sleeping in for at least a few more hours."

"well, plans ruined."

"we can do something else today though. what do you say about shopping?"

the simple offer has yeonjun bouncing on his feet and all ready to go despite it being only morning. the excitement is infectious, you can feel it seep through your skin and gradually, a fond smile takes over your features.

"i'm suddenly not sleepy anymore. let's have breakfast and go."

"ramen?"

"ramen."

------

"how about this one?"

yeonjun points at a somewhat simple yet fancy silver bracelet that has an infinity symbol carved on it in the color black. he thinks it looks nice enough to show it to you so he beckons you over with a smile.

you've been shopping for clothes for approximately two hours, scanning rows and rows of clothes ranging from casual to something more expensive. both of your wardrobes needed a refresh and so it wasn't a problem of spending too much or buying too many articles. you both share a common interest for fashion, things went smoothly but there's something missing. accessories. matching ones at that.

you peek over your shoulder with great interest, eyes practically glowing at the sight of the stylish bracelet and matching necklace.

"it's cool and all but.." you snicker. "look at the price tag, yeonjun. it's crazy."

"do you like it?"

you start twirling your hair, something you do when you're embarrassed. "i mean, yeah, who wouldn't? it's totally my style. but we can't waste so much money on this. we'll go broke in no time." you laugh, pat yeonjun's shoulder and move towards the exit of the shop, seemingly ready to return to your shared apartment.

yeonjun can't possibly go home without buying the matching set and so he approaches the cashier.

"uhm, hello. may i purchase these?"

the lady looks up at him with a knowing smile. "is it a present for the person who's waiting outside?"

he can feel his face heat up at the implication of her words. "something like that. y/n really likes the bracelet."

"is that so? i happened to hear your conversation earlier." she leans closer to whisper. "we don't normally do this thing but i can make an exception for you two and sell these to you at a lower price."

"are you sure? i wouldn't want you to get in trouble-"

"it's no problem."

she's still all smiles and sunshine as she wraps up the accessories and gives them to yeonjun. he tucks them safely in his bag and thanks her a million times before finally leaving the shop and joining you. you look up at him dubiously, eyeing the bags in his hands.

"what took you so long?"

"i was..looking around some more."

"really?"

you start walking back home and the nervousness of carrying your present is enough to make his legs go limp. what will be your reaction upon seeing that he bought the matching set after all? you couldn't possibly be mad, right? he sure hopes so.

"yeah, really."

-----

freshly out of the shower, yeonjun lays in the comfort of his bed and fiddles with the bag that shelters what he just bought for you. you are still showering, he can hear the water running and the groovy tune of a song that he's been listening to lately. your voice sounds a bit muffled yet yeonjun can discern a few words here and there and the more he listens, the more his nerves subside and he finds himself spacing out a second time that day. surely nothing can go wrong, he tells himself. he'll confidently reveal the gift, place the bracelet around your wrist then wear his own necklace and call it a day.

you've always talked about wearing something memorable for the both of you and this is the perfect time for it.

he doesn't know how much time has passed but it must've been a while because in front of him stand you, hair already dry, skin flushed from the steam in the shower, comfortable sweatpants and a loose shirt already on. with a quick shake of his head, yeonjun smiles at the confused look you give him.

"seriously, what's up with you? you've been spacing out again." you point out, seemingly amused. "and why are you gripping that bag?"

"close your eyes?"

"what did you do this time, yeonjun?"

"please just close them. you'll find out."

as soon as you do as told, his hands fumble with the fancy bag and pull out the small box that holds both the bracelet and necklace, a sappy smile already on his face. he's buzzing with excitement at the prospect of him and you growing even closer.

"it's been two minutes. can I open them already?" your right leg is shaking, anxiety bubbling beneath your skin.

"oh, sorry. open them."

you take a while to adjust to whatever you're seeing in yeonjun's hand. you see the small, sophisticated box along with what's in it and you freeze. the bracelet you just saw at the shop earlier today. and a matching necklace. your palms start to sweat and your heartbeat picks up speed at the gesture. silly yeonjun can't resist buying things that you like, no matter what anyone else says. you should've known better. yeonjun is incredibily stubborn when he wants to be. you look up at him and searches his eyes, all full of adoration, pride and excitement. your heart swells, barely concealing the smile that only seems to grow wider when yeonjun fiddles with his fingers and waits for a reaction.

"you said you liked it and i..bought it. even though you said i shouldn't. i couldn't help it. if you don't want it i can return it-"

"you're a real piece of work, you know that?" you let out a breathy laugh and shuffle closer to yeonjun's flushed face, scanning each and every detail of it, engraving it in your mind. no one else has ever gone to such lenghts to make you happy. "you never listen to me, do you?"

yeonjun gulps when your fingers caress the side of his face, falls into a deep trance the more he looks into your eyes.

"i wanted to make you happy." he murmurs, closing his eyes as soon as your lips touch his forehead.

"i am happy just being here with you. material things don't have the same effect you have on me, you know? sure, they do look nice, but they could never replace you." he lets himself be pulled into your arms. "i can appreciate the meaning behind your gift though. never took you for the romantic type."

yeonjun chuckles and traces a finger across your wrist. the bracelet is carefully being clasped around it and it suits you so well that he mentally pats himself on the back.

"i can be anything you want, y/n."

your heartbeat picks up speed at the implication, hands shaking as you place the silver necklace around yeonjun's neck. pretty, you think.

"anything? are you sure?" a teasing lilt accompanies your voice. you push forward, testing the waters between you. yeonjun doesn't step back.

"when have I ever been unsure?"

"what if I want you to be my boyfriend?"

yeonjun's breath stutters in his chest, alarms ringing in his head as he pulls just slightly away to come face to face with your pretty face. though unexpected, he's not entirely surprised. the tension has always been there somewhere around you. a bit too close to be just best friends, ever since the beginning.

"i'd gladly be."

your lips form a teasing smile, all inviting and soft. yeonjun glances down then back up, a silent hint. you take it, of course you do. shuffling even closer, yeonjun is once again reminded of how enamored he is, of how much he'd do for you.

"is that so? prove it."

yeonjun does just that. he immediately closes the small gap between you and seizes your lips in a searing kiss, stealing all your breath away. your hands find each other, intertwining and holding tight, lips chasing each other with the fervor of feelings being hidden all these years. intoxicating, yeonjun quickly realizes. you use the advantage of your better position to push even closer to yeonjun, running fingers through his hair as your lips part and gasps for air fill the silence in the room. neither of you move an inch away, simply staring in each other's eyes, bracelet and necklace somewhat glowing under the soft lights.

"so? are you mine yet?" yeonjun's teeth comes into view with how wide he's smiling and you are forced to squash the urge to hug him so tight that your bodies morph into one.

thinking back on it, you figure you've always been each other's. a silent agreement. despite voicing it out just now, you have always known.

"i think i've been yours since the first time i saw you."

"augh, that was a bit too much."

"shut it, yeonjun."

this is just another step into their journey. nothing will change between you and you are sure you'll only grow closer as time passes.

[blue-jisungs]

locked out of heaven

song inspo. locked out of heaven by bruno mars

a/n. i’m still giggling at the fact that bruno mars collected all the idols like a damn pokémon trainer. also i wrote it in 7 minutes while waiting at the bus stop bye

summary. your boyfriend comes home after the bruno mars concert, tired and drunk… and so so in love

warnings. might be a lil suggestive? depends how you look at it. a bit of skinship ^_^ + brief alcohol mention

the door opened so quietly, causing you to wonder if it’s your imagination or not. soft thuds of foot steps and the sound of your boyfriend’s humming made you rub your eyes, slumber slowly washing off you. peeking at the clock you smiled softly: 3:29am.

the slight light peeking through the door, coming from the bathroom accompanying by the rustle of water running caused you to shift a bit, to make place for yeonjun in your bed.

in no time the light turned off and yeonjun walked lazily into the room, sighing.

“hi baby” you murmured, voice a bit raspy.

“oh, did i wake you up? i’m sorry” if you thought your voice was raspy then after hearing him, you realised it’s nothing compared to his. you giggled, shaking your head.

“nope, i was waiting for you” you hummed, patting the place next to you.

but yeonjun plopped down on you, placing his head on your tummy with a dramatic sigh of relief.

“that’s good. after the concert we went to have some drinks with the guys, there were so many friends of mine. they insisted i stayed but i said i have to go back home to my girl” yeonjun hummed lazily, words barely audible due to the volume of it and the fact he was muffled by your pyjama t-shirt. when he talked you felt vibrations spreading through your body, stomach filling with butterflies… maybe also because of the nickname he used.

“you’re so sweet. how was the concert though?” you asked, accepting the fact he won’t move anytime soon. yeonjun normally is clingy, but after having alcohol in his system he’s the definition of clingy. one of his hands grabbed yours and placed it on his head, signalling you to play with his hair. the other pulled your shirt a bit and he started drawing small doodles on the skin of your stomach.

“it was… so… amazing. is it what moas feel like? i thought i was dreaming. bruno was amazing… the way he sung… he was so charismatic! he even said he missed us… in korean. aish… i’ll never hear his songs the same way again. the live version was just… woah” he sighed dreamily, the post-concert blues settling in.

you played with his hair, smiling fondly. gradually he started dozing off, breath turning more stable and soft.

you felt yourself getting drowsy again too when yeonjun suddenly started humming a song. at first you couldn’t hear which one but then you realised it.

“cause you make me feel like i've been locked out of heaven~” he sung quietly against your stomach “for too loooong~”

you scoffed, the action making him move a bit. you could feel the way he smiled against your skin, hands wrapping around you a bit tighter.

“can i just stay here…?” he hummed.

“spend the rest of your days here?” you asked amused, causing him to grin.

“mhm” a quiet murmur leaving his lips.

“mkay, you can… but if i wake up sore in the morning, you’re giving me a massage” you joked and continued to play with his hair.

with a pleasant warmth spreading in your heart you fell asleep, joining yeonjun in his peaceful slumber.

txt masterlist | event masterlist

taglist.  @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @elviransworld  ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang

[soobmint]

moon song | choi yeonjun [a] ; [s] (14.8k words)

“so i will wait for the next time you want me, like a dog with a bird at your door.” moon song, phoebe bridgers

first installment in the “punisher” collection. masterlist can be found here.

pairing; choi yeonjun x fem!reader

blurb; for better or worse, you have placed your heart in the hands of choi yeonjun, a struggling musician trying his best to be all you expect of him. but when you realize you’ve been losing more and more of yourself just to keep him near, you fear you may be too far gone to keep yourself from falling down with him.

genres; angst, established relationship

warnings; alcoholism, profanity, suggestive content, themes of mental illness & destructive thought spirals

playlist; find it here!! shoutout to @heetendo for helping me make this, she found half the songs for it <3

author’s note; hi all, welcome to the first piece in my punisher series! this is my first time putting out both a suggestive fic and a fic that’s 99% angst haha. it was really exciting to try out some new things, and it helped me get out of my writing slump for sure! do be sure to check out the warnings before reading, and i hope you enjoy moon song <3 (also, highly suggest giving the song a listen!! you can find it here.)

taglist; @hoonbear @hyuckworld @heetendo @yeonjuniper @soobin-chois @magicalstellar @maplecornia @baekberrie @boba-beom

[back to my masterlist]

WHEN THE MOON RISES, YOU FEEL AT PEACE.

The muted blue reflects off the ocean, illuminating the stones beneath your bare feet with a soft glow. In the distance, the bright beam of a lighthouse streaks its way through the dark blue sky. Waves gently caress your toes, but you can hardly feel the chill of the evening sea. Instead, you feel the warm hands covering your own, tucked away in the front pockets of your coat. 

As you sink back against a firm chest, you can hear a far off sea barge blare its horn. You taste salt on your lips, smell the smoke from a campfire a little ways down the beach. If it weren’t so cold out, you would suggest taking a walk down the pier to your favorite ice cream stand, but the biting air keeps you in place. You close your eyes, snuggling back against the figure standing behind you. He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss against your cheek.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” He says quietly, lips brushing against your skin. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything special for you today.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be. This is perfect.”

“Perfect? Really?” The doubt lacing his voice makes you smile. He has always been so unsure of himself.

“Yes, perfect.” You tighten your grip on his hands. “Just being here with you is enough for me.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Then he asks, “Do you remember this place?”

Of course you do. It’s the place where you had first met him. It seems like so many years ago now, you have begun to lose track of how much time has passed since then, all the days blurring together in one whimsical haze. 

“How could I forget it?”

He rests his chin on your shoulder. “Look up,” he whispers.

You cast your eyes upwards, and what seems to be hundreds of thousands of stars speckle the sky, surrounding the blue moon. When you see the stars, you can’t help but think of his eyes. They would sparkle just like this from time to time, entrancing you with their wonder, as if endless possibilities lied just beyond them. God, you would do anything if it meant seeing that starstruck gaze for even one extra moment.

“They’re beautiful,” you say.

“Wanna know something?” He asks.

“What?”

“For you, I’d capture every single one of those stars. I’d bring them right down to earth, tie them up with strings, and hang them from your ceiling so you could see them every night before you go to sleep.”

You laugh a bit, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’d do that? With your bare hands?”

“Of course.” You can hear the smile in his voice. It’s velvet, warm and soft.

“And what about the moon?” You tease.

“The moon? No problem – I can give you that too.”

“And how would you go about doing that?”

“Easy – a lasso. Throw it around the whole thing and pull it down to you. I’ve been working out a lot more recently, you know.”

Your laughter is vibrant this time; contagious as it falls from his lips as well.

“I love you,” you say.

His lips are on your neck now. “I know.”

There’s a burning in your throat. Your chest is tight, mind racing. There’s so much you want to say – so much you need to say – but the words are stuck on the tip of your tongue. It’s as if your head has been overcome by a fog. You feel everything all at once; desperation, panic, desire, hope, anything and everything in between.

You turn around. “Yeonjun.”

The space behind you is empty.

----------

When you wake up, you remember nothing of your dream other than the faint taste of salt.

Your phone is ringing beside you on the couch. You rub the sleep from your eyes, glancing at the time before answering the call. It’s 11:42 PM, and you can hardly see anything in the pitch black room.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, thank God! This is my fourth time calling you.” It’s Yeonjun’s friend, Wooyoung, on the other line. You’ve gotten quite used to his late night calls.

“I’m sorry, I fell asleep.” You stand up and flick the lights on, forcing your mess of unfolded laundry and empty coffee mugs out of hiding. You wince at the disarray; you’ll be sure to clean up later. “Where are you guys?”

“We’re at Mr. Kim’s, it’s on the –”

“The corner of First and Main. I know.” You grab your keys – heavy with an assortment of keychains, most of them gifted to you by your boyfriend – from amid a pile of notebooks and loose pieces of paper on the coffee table. In your hurry, you don’t even take the time to change out of your house slippers. “I’ll be there in five.”

The drive feels long, though it only lasts a few minutes. You crank up the volume on the radio, the generic pop song nothing but white noise to your buzzing mind as the lights of your small town turn to one big blur out the window. When you park beneath the street lamp outside Mr. Kim’s pub, you close your eyes and take a deep breath before you step out of the car.

The bell above the door jingles as you enter the pub, the smell of grilled pork and fried rice filling your nose. The place is nearly empty, a few drunken laughs and dated music from the crackling speakers filling the otherwise quiet atmosphere. The fluorescent lights flicker. You squint, scrunching your nose. You’ll have to take a couple painkillers when you get home – you always get a headache from the blaring artificial light.

Hands in the pocket of your sweatshirt, you glance around. It doesn’t take long for you to spot your boyfriend, face down on his usual table in the back corner of the restaurant. Wooyoung is seated across from him, head in his hands, several other empty plates abandoned on the table. The rest of the group must have left already, you suspect.

Wooyoung catches your eye and waves you down. You nod, making your way towards the table. “Sorry for waking you up,” he says when you arrive. He gestures to Yeonjun, who hasn’t made a single movement since your arrival. “I just figured he shouldn’t stay out like this for much longer.”

You wave off the apology. “No, it’s okay. Thank you.” Gently, you brush a hand through Yeonjun’s bleached hair. His skin is warm when your fingertips grace his forehead, glistening with sweat. He groans, and you’re glad – a tiny part of you always wonders if he’s even alive when he gets like this. “Rough day, I’m guessing?”

Wooyoung shrugs, stacking the scattered shot glasses together. “I thought it was okay. We played a gig down the street. Got a couple hundred bucks out of it. He looked so happy for a while but then he just . . . I dunno. Started drinking.”

You nod, easing your arm around Yeonjun’s waist. “Hey, time to get up. Let’s go home.”

It takes both you and Wooyoung to lift the barely conscious Yeonjun from his seat. He’s leaning against you as you pull him along, feet dragging along the laminate. The scent of cherry soju is strong, bitter as it overcomes your senses. You’ve always hated the smell; it reminds you of the cough syrup your mother would have to force down your throat when you were a child. Yeonjun never seemed to mind it.

You stop by the front counter. The pub’s owner has just come out from the kitchen, and you pull your wallet from your back pocket. “How much, Mr. Kim?”

He shakes his head, eyes crossing from the money in your hand to Yeonjun’s head on your shoulder. “He can pay me for it himself next time he comes in here – next time he’s sober, that is.”

You sigh, pushing your card closer to him. “We talked about this. No more handouts.”

“It’s not a handout. I’m just waiting for the customer himself to pay me. Consider it me putting it on his tab or something.”

“No use arguing with him, Y/N,” Wooyoung says. He spots Yeonjun’s guitar case by the door before you do, picking it up as he throws a wink at Mr. Kim. “We’ll see you soon then, sir!”

“Sooner than I’d like, I’m sure.” Mr. Kim’s gruff voice is difficult to hear when he mumbles. “Why don’t you ever offer to pay, eh? You’re just as bad as he is!”

“See you!”

Wooyoung practically pushes you and Yeonjun out of the pub, bell ringing once more to announce your exit. He hurries to open the passenger door of your car, and you all but drop Yeonjun into the seat. He moans, squinting at the brightness that falls from the streetlight. You buckle him in and close the door, sighing as you brush the hair from your face that had begun to stick from sweat.

“You know, these days you have to act more like a mom to him than a girlfriend.” Wooyoung’s voice breaks your moment of solitude. He closes the trunk – you assume he’s put Yeonjun’s guitar in there. “And by these days I guess I mean the past like, eight months or something.”

“Funny. I’m barely containing my laughter.” Your voice is monotonous, not a trace of humor to be found.

“Sorry. Too far?”

“Always.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t last long. “I’m wondering though, Y/N. How long are you gonna keep doing this?”

You lean back against the car, raising a brow. You don’t smoke, but if you did, you figure you’d be craving a cigarette right about now. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you think Yeonjun’s been treating you like shit lately?” 

The question is a knife to the heart. It’s instinctual, the way you shake your head in an instant, standing up straight and squaring your shoulders as though you’re preparing to defend your very life. “Of course not. He’s just going through a lot right now. You know that.” Your words are sharp, retaliation for the stab of Wooyoung’s.

He raises his hands in defense. “Hey, I never said he wasn’t. He’s my friend, so of course I’m sympathetic to what he’s going through. What we’re both going through. He’s not the only one in a failing band.”

“If you understand, why would you accuse him of treating me like shit?”

“Because he is!” The force of his voice takes you by surprise, and you’re stunned into silence. He sighs, pushing his hands into his pockets. “Sorry, sorry. It’s just – you’re my friend too, y’know? So I see what you’re going through because of him, and I can’t help but get pissed off.”

“I appreciate it, Wooyoung. Really, I do.” You pause, reading the doubt in his eyes before glancing over your shoulder. Yeonjun’s leaning his head against the window, lips pursed. You swallow. “I swear, it’s fine. We’re fine.”

It’s Wooyoung’s turn to lift a brow, leaning forward onto the balls of his feet. “Really? Tell me then, did he get you anything for your birthday today? Or at least acknowledge that it’s your birthday?”

“That’s not fair. You know he’s had so much going on today and –”

“Y/N, would you listen to yourself? He could’ve sent a text, left a note, or God forbid, given you a phone call at the very least.” He’s not yelling anymore, but his words still strike like blades across your skin, and you flinch. 

Wooyoung closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he opens them again, the frustration is gone. Now, he’s looking at you like you’re a wounded dog, desperate and dependent, waiting for something that’s never going to come.

“When’s the last time he asked you about your passions? Your dreams, your goals? Have you even had time to sit down and write lately?”

Your silence is the only response he gets. The muggy air is suffocating you.

“You deserve more than this, Y/N. You deserve so much more.”

Your eyes are burning, and you feel the lump in your throat that’s been there for what seems like days get bigger.

“I love him.” It’s all you can say, because in your world of drunken calls at midnight and the bitter scent of cherry soju, it’s all you know to be true.

He sighs in defeat. “I know you do. I just wish you would give a damn about yourself sometimes too.”

You go your separate ways after that, him giving you a halfhearted wave as a farewell. His words are still lingering as you put the car into drive and begin your route home. When you hit a red light, you glance over at Yeonjun, his sharp features glowing crimson in the hue. His brows are knit together, sweat beading above them. You notice his dark roots growing in; it’s been months since he last got his hair bleached. His cheeks are flushed, lips parted. He used to look so peaceful when he slept, you recall. You wonder how long it’s been since you’ve last seen him without that crease between his brows.

Carefully, you wipe your hand across his forehead to rid him of some of the sweat. He sighs, leaning into your touch before taking hold of your wrist. “Y/N?”

“I’m here, Jun,” you say, ignoring the tears that bead in the corners of your eyes. “I’m right here.”

He presses his lips into your palm, kissing you once, twice, three times. Your heart dances at the touch, aching for more. Yet the desire is diluted by the smell of alcohol and the absent look in his eyes. The light turns green, and you can’t bring yourself to pull away from him. You make the rest of the drive with one hand.

When you get home, it takes all of your strength to get him out of the car and into the apartment. His feet are dragging, and he’s clinging onto you as though you’re his lifeline as you stumble through the living room, nothing to light your way but a single lamp in the corner of the room that you had left on just for this reason. He accidentally knocks one of the empty coffee mugs to the ground, mumbling an apology that you immediately dismiss.

“It’s fine, baby,” You say without a second thought. “Just focus on getting to the bed, yeah?”

Somehow, you make it to your room, moonlight spilling in through the crack in the gray curtains as you drop Yeonjun onto the unmade bed. You push your hair back from your face, sinking into the mattress. His eyes are tethered to you, glazed and heavy, watching you pull his feet into your lap as though he’s in a trance. You’re trying, desperately, to push your conversation with his bandmate out of your mind, even as the words swarm you like moths to a flame. With an absent mind, you untie his shoelaces, slipping the sneakers off his feet and setting them down on the carpet.

I love him. I love him. I love him. 

It’s a mantra in your buzzing mind, the only loose thread you have left to cling to as everything else unravels. Your days may be hell, your nights may be lonely, moments may go by like whispers in the wind. But you love him. You love him, and this should be enough. It is enough.

You’re grabbing the cuffs of his socks now, rolling them together before placing them inside one of the sneakers. Taking hold of his wrists, you gently pull him towards you so that he’s sitting up. For some reason, you’re unable to meet his eyes as you begin to unbutton his shirt; perhaps you’re afraid he’ll be looking at you with the same pity that Wooyoung had shown earlier, or even worse, with some amount of contempt or disdain for you.

The first button is undone, then the second. When your fingers hover over the third, you pause. Yeonjun’s fingers gently encircle your wrist, his thumb tracing its way along your veins. Heart in your throat, you meet his gaze. He’s looking at you with heavy lidded eyes, pink lips barely parted.

“Yeonjun?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. “What’s wrong?”

He moves your hand, slowly, til your palm is pressing into his exposed chest, fingertips brushing against his collarbone.

“Touch me,” he rasps. “I want you to touch me.”

You’ve gone still at his words. You know he needs rest – that you need rest. But his eyes are begging you, his hands luring you, as he moves your own further up so that it’s on his neck, your fingers touching his hair. He leans forward, his forehead on yours, nose just barely meeting the skin of your burning cheek.

“Please,” he whispers, and you feel his breath against your lips. “I need you.”

Those three words; simple in theory, but dangerous in practice. They’re your Achilles’ heel, your fatal flaw. You’d do anything, anything, if it meant that he needed you. You’d lose yourself in him completely if that’s what it took to see the stars dance in his eyes once more, to see his shoulders lift as though the weight of a thousand worlds no longer rested upon him, to see his brow unfurrow from the release of his countless burdens.

You’d do it all a thousand times over. Why, for him, you’d even offer the moon.

And so, you oblige to his request, unable to ignore the fire in your own chest as you push your fingers into his hair, raking your hand through the knots and tangles. He sighs in what must be relief, grabbing your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You make quick work of the remaining buttons on his shirt, pushing it off of his shoulders and tossing it to the ground. He buries his face in your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your collarbone. You bite your lip, feeling the trail of sparks he leaves against you as he works his mouth along your skin. Your hands are moving up and down his bare chest, feeling every bump, every line, every perfect imperfection. The feeling of his skin on your own is addictive; you cannot satisfy your senses, the urge to feel all of him, everywhere, all at once fogging your already clouded mind. You can feel him beneath you now, as his hands travel higher up your thighs, fingers playing with the hem of your shorts. Breath hitching, you press against him, feeling warmth between your legs. 

“God, yeah, just – just like that.” He groans, hips raising up to meet yours as he catches the skin of your neck between his teeth. A whimper slips through your lips as you keep your hips moving against his, your lips following your hands as they explore his jaw.

“Don’t stop,” he mumbles against you, fingers pressing into your thighs so hard, you’re sure they’ll leave marks; but you don’t mind. In fact, you only wish he’d press harder, your body aching for him more and more, even as you’re practically melded together. You want to feel him on every cell of your skin. You want to taste him, to cover him, to breathe him in and never exhale.

It’s sudden when he pushes on your shoulders, causing you to fall back against the mattress. He’s over you now, taking both your hands in one of his and holding them above your head, his other hand sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, traveling up your ribs. Your back arches at the touch; you’re desperate to push ever closer to him, even if it’s impossible. He pulls the neckline of your shirt down, exposing your shoulder and the top of your bra. His lips are on your chest now, sucking and biting at the skin there. You suck in a sharp breath at the feeling, your eyes rolling shut as he slides his knee between your trembling legs, his tongue tracing its way along your collarbone.

You’re panting, chest heaving as his lips travel back up your neck, your jaw, your cheek; every inch of your skin is burning in his wake. You’ve been aching to feel his lips on yours, craving the sweet taste of him in your mouth.

But when his lips finally cover your own, the taste isn’t sweet like the vanilla ice creams you used to share on the pier, or the peaches you had sunk your teeth into backstage before one of his first gigs all those years ago. Instead he tastes bitter, the traces of cherry soju still burning on his tongue.

It’s the taste that brings reality crashing down around you. Suddenly, the burning between your legs isn’t pleasant – it’s too hot, too dangerous. His hands are singeing your skin now, your name falling from his lips a curse rather than a blessing. It’s a brutal reminder: he’s not sober. That’s why he’s doing this. It’s a stab straight to the gut.

“Yeonjun,” you whisper, breathless, when he comes up for air. “You’re drunk.”

His breathing is shallow, his hand still gripping both of yours. “What?”

“You’re drunk,” you repeat, freeing your hands from his grasp. You place your palms on his shoulders, easing him back as you sit up. “We have to stop.”

He’s breathless still, lips red and raw and hanging open, hair tousled. His eyes are searching yours, pupils big as saucers, his ever-knit brows showing his confusion – or maybe even concern. “Y/N, I –”

“It’s okay, Jun. Really.” You push a halfhearted smile, brushing a strand of bleached hair behind his ear. “You should rest.”

There’s so much he wants to say. You can see it in his eyes. But you also see the exhaustion, the confusion, the dismay. You’re terrified of what may come next.

Pity.

Regret.

You need to leave before he even has the chance to show a hint of either.

You lay him down, pulling the covers up over him. When you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, his heavy eyes are already falling shut.

With a sigh, you walk to the window and cast a quick glance at the sky before pulling the curtains all the way shut. You leave the bedroom, pulling the door shut behind you as quietly as you can. You hate the silence that has settled over the apartment, the only sound being your bare feet against the cold floor. There’s a sudden sharp pain in your heel and you wince, looking down to see a single shard of glass that had chipped off the mug Yeonjun knocked over in his drunken haze.

You pull the shard out of your skin, hobbling one-footed to the bathroom to grab a bandaid. When you open the cabinet above the toilet, all that’s left in terms of bandages are the cheap Iron Man ones Yeonjun had bought nearly a year ago. As you peel it open, wiping the blood from your skin before pressing the bandage on, you almost smile.

After taking care of the cut, you head towards the kitchen. You light the candle on the counter, slowly filling the room with the faint scent of vanilla and amber, the wooden wick crackling as the flame begins to flicker. After setting the lighter down, you pull open the fridge and grab a paper plate covered in plastic wrap. It holds a single slice of semi-stale chocolate cake, leftover from the last-minute birthday treat your coworkers had purchased during your lunch break. You grab a fork from a drawer and glance at the clock. It’s 12:59 AM; too late to even wish yourself a happy birthday.

When you sink down on the couch and take your first bite, you can’t help but think that the cake tastes quite bitter as well.

----------

Yeonjun is cold when he wakes up the next morning.

The sun beats in through the tiny slit in the curtains and he groans, pulling his pillow down over his face. He tucks his blanket around his body, desperate to kill the chills that shake his nearly naked self, but it’s no use. With an exasperated sigh, he turns onto his side, stretching his arm out.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, fingers searching for your body in the bed beside him. He pries his eyes open when he doesn’t feel you. Your side of the bed is bare.

He sighs, tossing his pillow off and running a hand over his face. When he sits up, he sees his discarded clothes on the floor and the memories of the night come rushing back to him. He remembers the heat of your body, the desperation in his voice as he practically chanted your name like a prayer. Most of all, he remembers the ache in the pit of his stomach as he watched your eyes go dim beneath him, and the defeat on your face as you laid him down to sleep.

Choi Yeonjun, you fucking idiot.

He’s no stranger to calling himself names. His mind is no friend of his.

He stumbles out of bed and towards the pile of unfolded laundry in the desk chair, pulling on a pair of joggers and one of your old tee shirts. It’s not his size, but he doesn’t mind; he likes how it smells just like you. Your favorite lavender perfume must be embedded within the threading, filling him with both comfort and guilt as the scent overtakes him.

In the living room, he finds you curled up on the sofa. No blanket, no pajamas – just a half-eaten slice of cake on the coffee table, the T.V. remote loosely gripped in your hand, reruns of an old sitcom buzzing on the screen before you. Slowly, he takes the remote from your hand and switches off the T.V., brushing his fingers over your cheek before he kisses it lightly, careful not to wake you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Of course, you don’t hear him. Deep down, in some twisted way and for reasons he cannot attempt to explain, Yeonjun is glad that you don’t.

He walks to the kitchen, seeing your favorite candle still burning in a pool of melted wax. He blows it out, watching the tendrils of smoke rise and dissolve in the air. He walks to the cabinet, pulling out garlic, bean paste, and some red pepper. He puts some water on the stove to boil, grabbing the tray of diced vegetables you keep in the fridge for him. Though he doesn’t mind the taste of his own haejangguk, he much prefers it when you make it; but he knows it would be cruel of him to wake you up.

The water has come to a boil, so he throws in the rest of the ingredients for his hangover soup. His head’s pounding, and he wishes he could shut off the sun as its streams in through the skylight above him. He sets the burner to low heat and puts a lid on the pot, leaving it to simmer for a bit.

He leans back against the counter, his hand brushing over a small stack of photos behind him that you had recently gotten developed, knocking some to the floor. With a sigh, he crouches down to gather them back up, his hand pausing as he grabs the first one. It’s a picture of him with his arm around your waist, both of your hands cupping his cheeks as he holds a vanilla ice cream cone. In the background, the sun is setting over the ocean, the sky painted in strokes of pinks and purples and reds and golds. You have a dot of the ice cream on your nose – he remembers that he had smeared it there himself after you tried to take a bite of his dessert. Both of you are laughing, mouths wide, your eyes scrunched up into crescent moons while his bright gaze is fixed on you. He remembers Wooyoung taking the picture during one of your walks to the pier near your home. It’s dated back two summers ago.

A smile is tugging the corners of his lips. He can’t remember the last time the two of you had taken a photo together. For the briefest of moments, he can feel a ghost of the joy that had once filled him. It’s spilling out of the picture in his hands, seeping through to his chest.

The feeling doesn’t last long. It never does. 

The smell of his soup boiling on the stove draws him back to the present. He quickly scoops the rest of the scattered pictures together, setting them back on the countertop as he rushes to the stove. He takes the pot off the heat and switches the stove off, taking the lid off to let the steam free. The spices fill his nose, causing him to cough as they overpower his senses. You have always told him he’s a bit heavy-handed when it comes to adding the red pepper, but he only seems to remember your advice when it’s too late. Every time.

“Jun?” He turns at the sound of your voice, seeing you sleepily rise from the couch. You rub your eyes, covering your mouth as you yawn and make your way towards him.

“Morning,” he says, trying his best to smile, though he can’t be sure what the correct way to speak to you is right now. He knows he acted selfishly last night, but he also knows that you’ll refuse to bring it up. At times, he wishes you would unleash all hell on him; he wishes you would scream, dig your nails into his skin, bite into his flesh with the words of resentment and anger he only imagines you have buried deep within your heart of hearts.

But you never do. And he’s far too much of a coward to ask you to. The tension of last night will linger, you’ll both carry on until the next thing happens and it snowballs, getting bigger and bigger but never crashing down around you. You wrap your arms around his waist, looking down at his breakfast. “You should’ve woken me up, Jun. I know you like my haejangguk more, I would’ve made it for you.”

“I know you would’ve,” he says. “That’s exactly why I didn’t wake you up. You need to rest.”

“I’m fine though,” you mumble, leaving his side to pull a couple of bowls down from one of the cabinets. He notices the dark circles beneath your eyes and wonders how fine you truly could be. You take a ladle from a drawer and scoop two servings of the soup into the bowls, fishing out some spoons to eat with. 

“You don’t have to eat this babe. You’re not hungover.” He watches as you set the dishes down at two of the bar stools, climbing up to sit atop one of them. “I’ll make something else for you.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, smiling sweetly at him. “It tastes pretty good regardless. Can you bring me the black pepper?”

He nods, turning around to find it. When he turns towards the cabinet, his eyes fall on the calendar that’s hanging on the side of the refrigerator. Yesterday’s date is circled in red, with poorly done doodles of a cake and confetti surrounding two words written in bright pastels: Y/N’s Birthday.

His stomach drops. There’s a big black line crossing out the date.

“Do you have any gigs today?” Your voice is distant to him, his gaze still stuck on the calendar as his head swarms with thoughts, his hand shaking around the can of pepper in his grasp. How could he forget your birthday? How had he reached such a devastating low that he couldn’t even properly celebrate with you, the one person who had stuck with him through every high and low? And how could you not even think of mentioning it to him?

“Jun? You okay?” He slowly turns back to face you at the sound of your voice, seeing the worry lines creasing your forehead. One day, those wrinkles would be permanent, and he can’t help but feel like the full responsibility of it will fall upon his shoulders.

He walks towards you, passing you the pepper you had asked for as he sits down beside you at the counter. Hesitantly, you take it from him, but your eyes are still fixed upon him as he stares down into his bowl, his appetite seeming to be completely erased from him.

“What��s wrong?” Your hand is on his shoulder now. His skin nearly burns at the touch.

“I missed your birthday.” His voice is quiet, heavy. Silence settles in the room afterwards, and he can’t bring himself to look at you. Your hand drops from his shoulder.

“Oh. That. Seriously, don’t worry about it. I know you’ve had a lot going on lately with the band and all, so it makes sense that –” 

“Y/N.” He cuts you off, his eyes meeting yours. You stop mid-sentence, mouth ajar. “Stop it. Stop making excuses for me.”

“They’re not excuses, it’s just the truth. What kind of partner would I be if I got mad at you for being overworked all the time?”

“And what kind of partner would I be for letting myself get away with forgetting your birthday?” His words are piercing, but he can’t help it. He already feels terrible, and for some reason, the lack of anger or spite on your part is making him feel even worse. You shrink down into your stool, gazing absently at your soup.

He closes his eyes, sighing as he runs his hand down his face. “Y/N, I’m not – I’m not angry. Not at you anyways; just at myself. I’m sorry for getting frustrated, it’s just . . . God, I wish you would care more about yourself.”

“I care about myself enough, Jun.” You’re almost whispering now, moving your spoon around in your bowl but not taking a single sip of the broth. “But I care about you too. Of course, I was a little disappointed but – I don’t know. I just want to be here to support you, I can’t justify getting angry at you when I know you’re having a hard time.”

The words are not new to him. He’s heard them from you countless times before. At first, he found them comforting; knowing you would always be there for him, supporting him through the dark times and not just the good. But as time went on, the words had begun to weigh him down. How often was he there to offer you the same support you gave to him constantly? How often did you even ask for it?

He sets his spoon down, taking both your hands in his. Your eyes go wide when they meet his, your shoulders tense.

“I’m going to make it up to you, Y/N. I swear.” His words are firm, and he means them, truly, with every bone in his body. He’s tired of being a burden to you, so tired that he makes these promises to you almost every day. But this time, he’s going to keep it; this time, for sure.

Your eyes look dim when you smile. “Alright.”

“Where do you want to go? We’ll do something tonight, right after my show at the Alley.”

You purse your lips, mulling over a thousand different possibilities in your mind. “Can we go down to the ice cream stand at the pier? The one we used to go to all the time.”

He nods, squeezing your hands tightly. “Of course. It’s a date.”

Your smile grows wide, and you lean forward, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose. He lets his eyes fall shut, savoring the way the kiss warms his heart that had felt like ice for so long, even if the relief only lasted a moment. 

He is going to do everything he can to keep you smiling this time. He is done making you wait for him – he has to be. This is the promise he makes to himself.

And so, the cycle begins.

----------

The air is muggy inside the venue that night. The red lights are dim, the aroma of spilt beer and fried chicken taking over Yeonjun’s senses as he steps inside the small building known as the Alley, home to many aspiring bands booking their first venues or failed musical acts who never made it past this point. The line between the two categories is quite thin.

The crowd is gathered round the stage, a few stragglers left behind at the bar near the back of the open space. The venue capacity sits around two-hundred, and it looks to be about halfway full. He has to push along the edge of the crowd to make it to the waiting rooms.

Yeonjun is pulling you along behind him, his painted fingers interlocked with your own as the hum of the crowd buzzes over the grunge rock spilling from the loudspeakers. He’s got his guitar slung over his shoulder, tightly clutching the strap in his free hand. When he glances down at you, he can tell that you’re a bit nervous – this crowd was a bit larger than most of the open mic nights that Yeonjun and his band frequent.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay, Jun?” You ask, straining to be heard over all the noise as you make your way to one of the back rooms near the stage. “I know you get nervous with larger crowds.”

You’re not wrong, of course. One of the more popular up and coming bands in the area had asked Yeonjun’s to open for their set. Most of the people in the crowd tonight – if not all of them – have no idea who they are. Not to mention the fact that the venue hadn’t even offered them a soundcheck – they were coming in cold, with little to no preparation.

“A little bit,” he answers honestly. He smiles, bumping his shoulder against yours. “But the show must go on, right?”

You smile back at him, giving his hand a squeeze. “You’ve got this.”

“And what about the rest of us?” A high-pitched voice pierces Yeonjun’s ears as Wooyoung joins the both of you, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “Are we gonna do well too, or is it just him?”

You laugh, the three of you entering the assigned waiting room with floors made of checkered tile and a cheap popcorn ceiling overhead. Nobody else is there yet – the room is empty aside from a cheap wine-stained couch and a couple of folding chairs.

“Of course you’re gonna do well too, Wooyoung,” you assure him, leaving Yeonjun’s side to sit down on one of the folding chairs. “I just figured that went without saying.”

“Where are the others?” Yeonjun asks as he sits on the other folding chair and begins tuning his guitar, Wooyoung stretching out on the couch and taking up all the space for himself. “They usually come with you.”

“Not sure; they haven’t been answering my calls at all today.” Wooyoung sighs, pulling out his phone. “It might just be you and me tonight.”

Though Yeonjun is disappointed by the statement, he can’t say that he’s surprised. The days where he and Wooyoung end up taking the stage alone have become more and more frequent. He twists the final peg on his guitar, plucking the strings one by one to check that they’re in tune. 

“We’ll make it work,” he says.

Wooyoung nods. “We always do.”

Yeonjun can feel your eyes on him, but he doesn’t look your way. He knows you’re worried about him. He knows you want to offer him support and encouragement, but he can’t take it right now. He’s terrified of letting you down – again.

A woman with bright blue hair dressed in all black pops her head into the room. “You guys are on in five. Get ready.”

Yeonjun nods as she disappears, standing up from the chair with his guitar in hand. He glances in the full-length mirror hanging before him on the wall, wondering if he’s underdressed in his ripped black jeans and Pink Floyd tee that’s so old, he would label it as ancient – but you always correct him, preferring the term vintage. He doesn’t have time to contemplate his choice of dress any further though, as you and Wooyoung both stand up with him, following him out the door and up the stairs that lead to the side wings of the stage. 

Wooyoung pulls his drumsticks from his back pocket, making a quick glance at the rusty old drumset sitting towards the back of the stage. You grab hold of Yeonjun’s sleeve, smiling up at him as you squint against the colorful lighting. Yeonjun notices the way your nose crinkles along with your eyes – something he’s always loved about you.

“Knock ‘em dead, yeah?” Your voice is as soft as it can be while still being heard above the murmuring crowd. You run your fingers through his hair, a last-ditch effort to fix up a few of the pieces that frame his face.

He gently takes your wrist in his hand, lowering it from his face as he leans down to kiss you swiftly. “I’ll do my best.”

The stage is set with a single microphone in the center, the drumset a bit behind it. There’s a single spotlight hanging low over the mic, the same burnt red as the rest of the lighting in the venue. He glances at Wooyoung, who gives him a reassuring nod. He clutches the strap of his guitar. 

He takes his first step out onto the stage, Wooyoung following close behind. A few people in the crowd notice, turning towards them. Most give the two of them a passing glance, checking to be sure that they’re not the main act of the night, before they resume their buzzing conversations or boisterous laughter.

He stops in front of the microphone, tilting it upwards so that it matches his height. He spots the aux on the ground and leans down to plug it into his guitar, a high-pitched screech humming over the room for a brief moment before it fades away. He looks over his shoulder to see Wooyoung take his seat behind the drums, giving him a thumbs up, mouthing the familiar words, You ready?

With a sigh, Yeonjun gives the only honest answer he can think of by shrugging his shoulders. This was their routine as of late.

He taps a finger against the mic, the familiar thumping coming out muffled through the loudspeakers. He clears his throat, taking another look out at the crowd.

“Hey everyone, how are we feeling tonight?” His voice is clear, gaining the attention of a few more people in the crowd. A couple of half-hearted cheers resound, and he’s thankful for that at least. “My name’s Yeonjun, and this is my buddy Wooyoung on the drums. We’re happy to be here tonight to open up the show for you.”

He looks over to the wing, seeing you standing there, hands clasped together over your chest. You’re glowing red from the overhead lights, eyes sparkling. You perk up when you catch his gaze, throwing him your ever-warm smile. He can only lift the corner of his mouth, his nerves already beginning to wear him down. 

He glances back at Wooyoung again, giving him a nod as he adjusts his grip on the neck of his guitar, fingers clasped tightly around the pick. The drummer smiles, clicking his drumsticks together, counting off the beat.

One, two, three, four.

He strikes the first chord, letting his eyes fall shut as the sounds of his strings fill him, drowning out the buzz of the crowd. When the first lyrics leave his lips, he’s already felt himself drift away. Eyes closed, he can imagine himself being somewhere else, anywhere but here. He’s not standing on the stage burning beneath the lights, overwhelmed by the flood of voices kept in time by the steady beat of the drums and the thrumming of his heart, sending hot blood coursing through his veins. 

Instead, he’s sat upon a blanket in the sand, the plucking of his guitar harmonizing with the waves melting against the shoreline, a crackling fire burning before him beneath the starlight, slightly blocked out by the wisps of a few gray and blue clouds. The salt air is muddled by the smell of smoke, the gentle breeze tickling the tip of his nose. Wooyoung’s fast asleep on the other side of the fire, arm covering his eyes as his mouth hangs open, a trickle of drool slipping down his chin.

And you. You’re there by Yeonjun’s side, head resting upon his shoulder as he picks out the melody, singing softly, the words falling upon your ears alone. 

This, he thinks, is what music is meant to be. A connection from himself to you, the lines of a song reaching your heart much deeper than any words he could speak. Words failed him so often when he tried to talk. If he could sing forever, serenading you with all the right words set to a lulling melody that rang sweet in your ears, he would sign himself away to it in a heartbeat.

The first song has ended, and he opens his eyes to find himself back in reality, square center on the stage. It’s not you he’s looking at – it’s a crowd of uninterested strangers, eyes seeming to fall anywhere but himself. It’s like whiplash, the serenity he felt moments ago rapidly being replaced by the anxiety and displacement he’s become all too familiar with. The lights are too bright, the voices are too loud, the air is too warm. He feels so small. He shouldn’t be here – he should be anywhere else.

He turns to look at you again. Even across the distance that separates you, he can see the worry swimming in your eyes as you give him a thumbs up. He’s certain that the words of his song had fallen short even upon your ears. You had probably heard nothing but your own racing thoughts, screaming with worry and tension as you watched him intently, wishing for him to not fail.

He knows you – perhaps a little too well. His throat is tight, his chest screaming for air. He’s never felt as far away from you as he does in this moment.

The rest of the set flies by in a haze of tension and suffocating disinterest from the crowd. He expected this, prepared for it even. But for some reason, he can never seem to get past the disappointment that comes from it.

He manages to push out a quick “thank you” to the mic when they’re finished, but he can hardly see the point in it as it falls upon deaf ears. A few people clap, but Yeonjun doesn’t stay on stage long enough to hear. He unplugs his guitar, all but running towards where you wait for him in the wing.

“You did great, Jun,” you say. “I mean it.”

He can’t even force himself to smile now. He needs to get out of here.

“Good job, sweetheart!” Wooyoung throws his arm around Yeonjun’s shoulders, drumsticks clanking together as he clutches them in one hand. “How we feeling?”

“Can we get out of here?” Yeonjun feels as though there’s a fist around his throat, choking all the air out of him at an alarming pace. He rubs a hand along the base of his neck, skin burning. “I can’t – I’m not thinking clearly.”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” You waste no time in linking arms with him, pulling him alongside you down the steps with Wooyoung following close behind. “Woo, can you grab his guitar case from the waiting room and meet us outside? I think he needs some air.”

“Sure thing. See you out there.”

Yeonjun is in a trance, not feeling his feet touch the ground as you guide him along the edge of the crowd once more towards the exit. When he takes his first step out into the cool night air, he feels like he’s finally come up from underwater, taking a cleansing breath in, exhaling moments later. He sits down on the cement steps, ignoring the thud of his guitar hitting the concrete behind him. You waste no time in sinking down by his side, rubbing his arm in an effort to provide even the smallest bit of comfort.

“You okay?” You ask. He can feel the pity in your eyes without even looking at them. He keeps staring down at his scuffed sneakers.

“I’m alright.”

He hears the door open behind them and looks up to see Wooyoung hovering above him, his black guitar case littered with stickers in hand.

“You good?” His friend asks, motioning for Yeonjun to hand his guitar over. 

He lifts the strap over his head, grabbing the guitar by the neck and handing it to Wooyoung. “I just needed some air. I’m okay.”

“I think we did a pretty good job,” Wooyoung says, kneeling on the ground to set the guitar in its case. “We got a decent response from the crowd.”

Yeonjun watches you nod in agreement, but he himself remains quiet, fiddling with his shoelaces. He can hardly remember any of their set to begin with, and what little he does recall feels like it’s the opposite of “decent”.

“So, what’s the move for tonight?” Wooyoung asks. “Celebrating a late birthday for Y/N? Oh wait – did you ever end up remembering it in the – ow!”

You’ve leaned down to smack Wooyoung’s cheek, ending his trail of harsh – but well deserved – words that were no doubt pointed towards Yeonjun. He doesn’t miss the venom in his friend’s voice, and he feels the sharp pang of guilt dig deeper into his chest than it already was before. 

“We’re gonna go down to the pier,” he says in response, forcing a smile. “See if the ice cream shop is open.”

He feels your eyes on him again, but can’t bear to look. He knows that concern he doesn’t deserve will be waiting for him in your gaze. It’s nothing but salt to his open wound. 

“You know Jun, maybe we should just go to Mr. Kim’s tonight instead.” He looks at you then, eyes widening at your suggestion. “You’re not feeling the best, and it’s super cold out – I bet the shop isn’t even open during this time of year anyways.”

“No, Y/N.” He grabs both your hands, shaking his head. “It’s your day, we’re going to the pier. That’s what you wanted.”

You smile, running your thumb along his knuckles. His skin tingles at the touch. “Seriously Jun, it’s okay. We can just wait til it gets warmer out. It’ll be more fun at that time anyways.”

Yeonjun glances at Wooyoung, surprised to see his friend minding his own business for once – or at least pretending to mind his own. He’s whistling the tune of one of their songs, securing the latches on the guitar case as he clearly does everything in his power to avoid eye contact.

The one time I need his loud ass to chime in and back me up, Yeonjun thinks. He’s really useless, huh?

He looks back at you. “Y/N –”

Your lips cover his, cutting his words off. He hesitates before his eyes flutter shut, taking in the warmth that comes from the feeling of you against him as his body shakes from the chilling air.

When you pull away, you’re still smiling. “It’s okay, Jun,” you whisper. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

He remains quiet for a moment. He can’t quite tell if your smile reaches your eyes.

“Okay.” His voice is barely audible, his nose brushing against yours. “Let’s go.”

You nod with contentment, standing up and pulling him to his feet along with you. “What about you, Woo? Wanna come with?”

“Sure, why not.” The drummer smirks as he walks closer to Yeonjun, bumping their shoulders together while wiggling his eyebrows. “As long as this guy’s paying. You’re good with that, right sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me that,” Yeonjun mutters, sinking his elbow into Wooyoung’s side with enough force to send the latter stumbling back a few steps. “And I’m paying for my girlfriend, of course. But you’re on your own.”

Wooyoung flashes a middle finger, tongue stuck out in mockery, and Yeonjun returns both gestures as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, noticing the hand you’ve placed over your lips in an attempt to hide your laughter. “Lead the way, sweetheart. Y/N and I will be close behind.”

“Screw you,” Wooyoung says, unable to mask the smile blossoming on his lips. “And take your stupid guitar too. It’s heavy.”

Yeonjun grabs the case with his free hand, the two of you falling into pace behind Wooyoung as you make the short walk to Mr. Kim’s pub. The lights outside are flickering; Yeonjun makes a mental note to remind Mr. Kim to check the batteries later. That is, if he remains sober long enough to remember to do so.

But tonight is about you. He will stay sober if that’s what it takes to make things up to you. He has to.

The bell above the door jingles in its familiar tune, the scent of soju and samgyeopsal wafting towards you as soon as the three of you cross the threshold. The pub is fairly quiet, only a few of the tables occupied by guests. 

Mr. Kim is waiting behind the counter, barely containing his eye roll when he spots Yeonjun and Wooyoung. “You two again? Was last night not enough for you?”

“Relax, Mr. Kim.” Wooyoung’s voice is smooth and assuring – he’s very used to charming his way into various kinds of situations. “We’re not here to drink our sorrows away tonight. It’s our lovely Y/N’s post-birthday celebration! You wouldn’t want to turn away your most loyal and dearest customers on such a special occasion, would you?”

Mr. Kim’s eyes narrow when they land on you, peeking around Yeonjun’s shoulder, offering a meek wave in greeting. He sighs, gesturing towards the table in the back corner of the room. “Just go sit down.”

“Ah, see! I knew you had a big heart.” Wooyoung reaches towards the older man with two arms, almost as if he were going in for a hug.

Mr. Kim flicks him square in the middle of his forehead. “Get away from me.”

“Love you too, Mr. Kim!” Yeonjun notices the redness that the elder’s contact had left behind in the center of Wooyoung’s forehead – there would definitely be a welt there tomorrow.

Yeonjun leaves his guitar propped up in the corner behind the counter like always before he leads you back to your usual table, pulling out your chair before he takes his place beside you. 

“Three servings of rice and samgyeopsal, please!” Wooyoung yells, earning a shout of confirmation from the staff as she heads back towards the kitchen. “And a few bottles of cherry soju!”

“Wooyoung.” Yeonjun makes a cutting motion across his neck with his hand, head shaking with intent. “No soju.”

“It’s okay, Jun,” you say, pushing his hand down. “I wanted a drink anyways.”

His brows crease, lips pursed. “But you hate the cherry flavor.”

You shrug, pouring a cup of water from the jug on the table. “It’s growing on me.”

Your words linger with him as the waitress sets a few glasses and two bottles of cherry soju on the table. 

“Two?” Wooyoung asks, raising a brow. “You guys think that’ll be enough?”

“Should be.” Yeonjun takes a sip of your water as Wooyoung fills your other glass first with the fruit-flavored alcohol. “I’m abstaining.”

There’s silence for the briefest of moments. Then, boisterous laughter echoes across the room, drawing the attention of a few other patrons. Wooyoung is clutching his stomach as he continues to laugh, and Yeonjun kicks his shin under the table. 

“Would you shut up?” He hisses, nodding a thank you to the waitress as she sets down a few bowls of rice along with the plate of uncooked pork.

Wooyoung wipes the corner of his eyes, the laughter finally having subsided. “Sorry. I just – I’ve never seen you turn down a drink.”

“There’s a first time for everything, right?” He turns the grill on, smiling at you when he notices you staring at him with wide eyes, hands frozen around the glass of soju. “Come on,” he says, nudging you in the side. “Drink up, birthday girl.”

You hesitate before throwing the shot back, eyes crinkling up as you take a hard swallow. Wooyoung cheers as you pour him a glass next.

“I haven’t seen you drink in ages, Y/N,” he says before taking his first shot as well. “You deserve to let loose a bit tonight.”

You cough, placing your palm flat against your chest. “Well, I’m remembering now why I don’t drink. This tastes awful.”

“Nah, you’re just not used to it.” Wooyoung motions for you to raise your glass again. “You’ll be loving it in no time.”

You shake your head in disagreement, but oblige to his request as you lift your glass up once more, taking your second shot. You shake your head, lips pursed in disgust as you force the liquid down.

“Alright, stop forcing her, Wooyoung,” Yeonjun insists, pushing his friend’s hand away as he raises the bottle towards you once more. “You’re the kind of person they warned us about in middle school during all those assemblies about peer pressure.”

“You’re one to talk,” Wooyoung mutters, pouring a second shot for himself and taking it down only seconds later. He barely even flinches at the taste. “I see you drunk way more than I see you sober.”

Yeonjun pauses, and Wooyoung immediately knows he’s crossed a line. You clear your throat, gesturing towards the plate of pork. “I think the grill’s warm. Want me to put the meat on?”

“No, stay still,” Yeonjun insists, glad for the break in the uncomfortable tension that has settled over the table. “I’ll do it.”

The grill sizzles as the pork settles atop it, the savory aroma immediately filling his senses. He pushes the pieces around with the pair of tongs that were resting beside the plate, focusing all his attention on his task as he tries desperately to ignore the scent of the soju creeping in. The sight of the third shot glass, empty and untouched, burns in the corner of his vision. He’s determined to ignore it.

Yeonjun sets the first few pieces of cooked pork on your plate, giving Wooyoung a pointed look as he does so. The meal carries on smoothly for a bit – no more talks of sobriety or peer pressure from Wooyoung for you to take another shot of the bitter drink. There’s light conversation and laughter, reminding Yeonjun of how things were just a few years ago when the three of you first started hanging out together, right after he had asked you out.

“It’s nice to be out together again – all three of us,” Wooyoung says, taking the last piece of pork from the sizzling grill. “Why’d we stop doing this again?”

“We just got busy.” You take a swig of water, bowing your head in thanks to the waitress as she sets another dish of meat to cook and two more bottles of soju on the table – Wooyoung had already drained the first.

“You’re right. How could I forget our band taking off in infinite success?” Wooyoung shakes his head, emptying the contents of the new dish onto the grill. “The life of a star isn’t an easy one, I suppose.”

You laugh a bit, but quickly bite it back, glancing over at your boyfriend. He forces a laugh of his own, though the words of his friend are piercing blows to his already fragile ego.

“Lighten up, sweetheart.” Wooyoung reaches over the table, ruffling Yeonjun’s hair. “It’s all jokes.”

Yeonjun smiles bitterly, nodding in assumed agreement. He passes the metal tongs to Wooyoung who then takes his turn cooking the meat, returning to the light-hearted conversation he had been having with you moments before. 

This leaves Yeonjun with the perfect opportunity to begin thinking.

And thinking.

And thinking and thinking and thinking.

He thinks about the buzz of the disinterested crowd watching their show that night, a sea of blank faces and muddled voices drowning him out. 

He thinks about the bright lights, burning through his eyelids despite how tightly he shut them, desperate to keep the beams from slipping through the cracks. 

He thinks about the steel strings of his guitar, digging into the calloused skin of his fingertips, the pain so familiar he hardly feels it at all anymore, but still potent enough to remind him that it was there.

He thinks and he thinks, until he cannot bear to do so for a second longer.

Without a word, he takes an unopened bottle of soju and twists the cap off with the ease that only comes from what feels like a lifetime of experience. Ignoring how your eyes burn into the side of his head, he pours himself a glass and throws back the shot. The alcohol burns its way down his throat, and he closes his eyes as the feeling overpowers him and then subsides all in an instant.

Just one shot, to keep me sane. That’s all.

He lets his eyes meet yours once again. You quickly look away, reaching toward the grill as the second batch of meat finishes cooking. He glances at Wooyoung, who is pointedly keeping his eyes anywhere but his best friend. 

It’s guilt this time that’s flooding Yeonjun’s entire being. God, how could he be so fucking selfish? It was just one night, one night that he needed to push his own needs aside for yours. He wanted to, more than anything. Yet, somehow, he always lost in this battle against himself. No matter how hard he tried, what moves he made, this was a game he was forever destined to lose.

His throat feels like it’s closing, ears ringing, head swarmed with the sounds of the restaurant. The relief from the first shot is long gone, and he’s staring at the bottle of soju again. He’s merely a puppet, the bottle of burning liquid his master, pulling the strings as he reaches forward and takes the bottle in his hands once more.

He had already screwed things up. One more shot couldn’t hurt, right?

When he throws back the second shot, he tells himself it is just to keep the thoughts quiet. With the third, he assures himself that it’s to loosen up the tightness in his chest – nothing more.

The fourth is to chase the third. He hates leaving things on odd numbers.

By the time he gets to the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth, he’s far too tired to think of reasons why he continues to down them. He loses count soon after that.

----------

Deep down, you had known the night would end up this way from the very beginning.

You tell yourself that you’re not resentful. It doesn’t bother you at all, the fact that you’re leaving Mr. Kim’s with Yeonjun’s arms wrapped around your neck from behind as you desperately try to pull him along the sidewalk, the buzz from the two shots you had taken long gone. All that’s left now is a searing headache and a knot in your stomach.

Wooyoung has left already, carrying Yeonjun’s abandoned guitar with him. He had offered to help you bring Yeonjun home, but you insisted that he go first. You don’t know why, but you’re embarrassed – not of Yeonjun, of course, but of the fact that Wooyoung thinks you can’t handle him on your own. You’ve gotten quite used to this.

You’ve made it a couple blocks down the street, drunken words falling from Yeonjun’s lips in incoherent rambles that you’re too exhausted to try and make any sense of.  You shift his weight, bringing one of your arms around his waist as the other holds the wrist of the arm that he has draped across your shoulders.

“Y/N,” he mumbles. “Stop.”

There’s sweat beading on the back of your neck. You shake your head, gritting your teeth as his feet drag down the sidewalk. You hate to think of the scuff marks it’s sure to leave on his sneakers “No, Jun. We’ve gotta get you home.”

“I wanted to walk you home tonight,” he croaks, his words followed by a few hiccups. “It’s your sort-of-birthday, I should – I should be carrying you.”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Don’t worry about it, alright? Just focus on walking. Left foot, right foot, left –”

“No.” He plants his feet, legs wobbling. The movement is so sudden that it causes you to trip, bringing him crashing to the cold hard ground with you. The back of your head smacks against the pavement, his form crashing down atop of you. You hiss in pain, but you quickly push the feeling aside, sitting up to grab Yeonjun’s shoulders.

“Are you okay?” You ask, eyes searching his dull ones for any hint of pain. He blinks at you slowly, lips settled into a pout as he brings his hands up to cup your face. His palms are clammy, fingertips rough with guitar-string callouses.

“Yeonjun.” You grab hold of his wrists, voice dripping with worry. “Are you hurt? Talk to me.”

“Do you love me, Y/N?”

The question is so sudden, it freezes you to your core. You go still, hands clasped around his wrists.

“Of course I love you, Yeonjun.” The words require no thought on your end, spilling from your lips freely. You’ve said them so many times, you’re not sure why he even feels the need to ask you to say them again. Maybe you’ve done a worse job at showing it than you thought.

He frowns, brows knit as always. “How much?”

“What?”

“How much do you love me?” You can see tears brimming in his eyes, and your heart aches.

“So, so much, Yeonjun,” you say, running your finger along the back of his hand in a soothing rhythm. “More than you could ever imagine. I’d do anything for you. Anything at all.”

He sighs, eyes falling shut. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. “Would you catch the stars for me?”

It’s an odd question. If he weren’t completely wasted and practically sobbing in your arms in the middle of the street, you might even find it to be an endearing one. “Yeah, sure. I’d catch the stars. I’d bring each and every one of them down to the ground for you.”

“What about the moon?”

“The moon too. If you asked me for it, I’d give it to you. I’d give you anything, Jun.”

He stares at you in silence, a single tear falling down his cheek, hanging onto his jaw.

“Kiss me,” he rasps, leaning even closer so that his lips are only a breath away from yours.

For some reason, you’re hesitating. His lips are practically against your own already, tempting you closer to the comfort they always provide for you, melting the worries of your small and insignificant world to nothing as you’re taken over by thoughts of nothing but him.

But tonight, you don’t want your worries to fall to the wayside. You’re searching his eyes again and remember how you used to see the stars shining in them. Tonight, you curse the city lights under your breath. They’ve killed your shot at seeing the starlight’s reflection there when you need it the most.

His eyes fall shut. “Y/N. Kiss me.”

Your throat feels tight, the worries in your mind pressing in on you, like the walls of a prison cell that are about to cave in, locking you forever in their grasp. They come closer, and closer, until you fear they’ll suffocate you and swallow you whole.

You throw away any reservations, closing the distance between yourself and Yeonjun, taking his lips captive with yours. Every clash of your teeth, every swipe of his tongue against your chapped lips, every breathless whisper of your name falling from his mouth – it all pushes the negative thoughts further and further away. His kiss is a haven, despite the burn of the cherry soju, just like you knew it would be.

You’re reminded once more, as you are every moment of every day: you love him. You love him, and it’s still enough to get you by.

----------

No matter how many times Yeonjun wakes up in bed with a hellish hangover, he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the pain and guilt that simultaneously wash over him within an instant of him opening his eyes to the late afternoon light seeping through his window.

When he turns over on his side, squinting against the brightness in the room, his guilt multiplies tenfold when he realizes that you’re not in bed next to him. Again.

He sits up, running his hand over his eyes. He takes a whiff of his own breath, nearly gagging at the rancid smell of sour soju that pours out of him. One sniff is all the motivation he needs to drag himself out of bed and stumble towards the bathroom. He grabs his toothbrush and toothpaste, getting to work at remedying the horrible version of morning breath that’s plaguing him.

The memories of the night before are coming back to him, playing one by one in his head like a bad movie looping on a broken DVD player, skipping and replaying all the most dreadful moments, savoring the bad luck of the lovers on screen. He squeezes his eyes shut, scrubbing furiously at his back teeth as his mind works against him once more, reminding him of how badly he’s screwed up, of how awful you must feel, of how you’re definitely not going to bring it up to him, and of how he’ll need to make it up to you for certain this time, promising you to never screw up that badly ever again.

He spits into the sink, turning on the water to rinse it down. He watches it go down the drain, eyes unfocused as his mind races. He’s tired, he’s so tired of this vicious cycle that he puts you through every week – no, every day. He can promise himself til the end of the world that he’s going to change, that he’s going to abandon his reckless ways, that he won’t let the thoughts win ever again.

But he’s afraid. He can hardly believe his own promises now. How long can he keep convincing you to have faith in him, when his faith in himself is already gone?

He hears the front door to the apartment open, followed swiftly by your voice. “Jun? You up?”

He turns the faucet off after splashing a bit of cold water in his face. “Yeah, in here.”

“Ah, perfect. You’re already here,” You say as you turn the corner into the bathroom. There’s a plastic bag in your hand, and you set it on the counter, pulling the items out one by one. A box of black hair dye. Conditioner. A pair of plastic gloves. A plastic mixing bowl and a brush.

“What’s this?” Yeonjun picks up the box of hair dye, turning it over in his hands.

“Your roots are growing in.” You stand on your toes, gently pulling your fingers through his hair. His eyes flutter shut for just a moment, savoring the touch, before the guilt in his stomach pulls him back to reality. “I know it’s not really in the budget for you to go back for another bleach, yeah?”

He nods, setting the box dye back on the counter. “You’re gonna dye it for me?”

“Of course.” You respond without hesitation, and he’s not surprised. Your words from the night before are seeping into his brain, clouding everything else around him.

If you asked me for it, I’d give it to you. I’d give you anything, Jun.

You’re prying open the box, pouring the color and developer into the bowl. His throat feels tight. Whether it’s from the chemicals or the lump of regret he’s been harboring for what feels like decades, he’s not sure.

Per your instructions, he sits down on the closed toilet as you pull on the plastic gloves. You clip up a section of his hair, slowly working the product into his blonde strands, fried from too much bleach. Every touch from you against his scalp, every brush of your chest against his shoulders, every breath from your lips that he feels gently caress his neck as you lean in for a better angle is working a fire up within him. He’s suffocating from the inside out. He needs you closer, your touch, everything. The fire is creeping his way through his stomach, invading his lungs, burning his throat. He needs you. Yet, at the same time, he wants you to step as far away from him as possible. He’s afraid, so afraid, of this consuming fire within him jumping from himself to you, burning you alive right along with him.

He’s quiet during the entire process, and so are you for the most part, only the occasional hum from your lips breaking the silence. He realizes you’re humming one of his songs. His eyes burn. He chooses to blame it on the chemicals.

“Okay,” you say when you’re finished covering his hair with the black dye. “All done. I’m gonna hop in the shower while it develops, then you can rinse it out.” He nods, and you narrow your eyes. “Jun. Have you eaten today?”

He gulps. “No. . . Kinda just woke up.”

You huff out a breath, pulling the gloves from your hands tossing them in the garbage. “Go eat, please. I’ll come get you when it’s time.”

You practically shove him out of the bathroom and towards the kitchen before turning back to put the shower on. He glances over his shoulder, seeing that you’ve left the door cracked open. He wanders towards the fridge, trying not to itch his scalp. The dye burns a bit, but he barely notices.

He finds a cup of yogurt and fishes a spoon from the drawer, propping himself against the counter as he slowly starts on his “breakfast”. Soon enough, he’s finished the cup and he hears you shut the water off.

“Jun!” You call. “It’s time!”

“Mm, coming,” he mumbles, tossing his garbage into the can before he slowly makes his way back to the bathroom. He pushes the door open, a thick cloud of steam hitting him instantly. He waves his hand through the air a bit and stops when he sees you through the fog, nothing but a towel wrapped around your body, hair wet and sticking to your shimmering skin. His breath catches in his throat as his eyes travel up your body, tracing all the curves and edges until he meets your gaze. 

You smile softly at him. “Ready?”

“Ready?” He rasps, clearing his throat. “I mean – for what?”

“To rinse your hair?”

He swallows. “Oh.” He pulls off his tee shirt, leaving him in just his boxers. He feels warm as the steam wraps around his bare skin. You push back the shower curtain and motion for him to step inside. He sees the stool that you’ve set on the floor of the shower and sits down, watching as you step in behind him. You pull the shower head down and turn the water on, testing the temperature on your hand before letting the water run over his hair, gently running your fingers through his locks.

The water is lukewarm and muddied from the black dye, trickling down his neck and bare chest. He’s not sure why he feels so guilty for the way his heart is pounding against his chest, the way his hands are aching to touch you as you stand behind him and rinse the product out. He’s been with you for so long and he’s seen every part of you time and time again, but no matter how much he tries, he can never seem to shake the nervousness that overcomes when he feels your breath down his neck, sending sparks flying down his spine, igniting a fire in his veins that he had no means of extinguishing. Every touch of your fingertips against his scalp pains him. It makes him want you more and more.

“Y/N.” His voice is raspy. He clears his throat. “How long is this gonna take?”

“I’m supposed to rinse until the water runs clear.” You’re leaning down when you answer him, probably to get a better angle as you continue to run your hands through his hair as you rinse. He’s sure you’re unaware of the way your lips accidentally brush against the shell of his ear when you speak, but he isn’t so lucky. He can’t ignore it. The sparks are running all along his skin now.

He swallows. Hard. “And how long does that usually take?”

You laugh lightly, your fingers casually sliding a bit further down the nape of his neck before retreating back behind his hairline. “Why, Jun? Do you have somewhere to be?”

He doesn’t understand how you still can’t seem to see the agony you’re causing him. He doesn’t quite understand it himself; he’s made you his countless times. Yet, for some odd reason, he still feels the same desperation, the same urgency, the same overwhelming longing for your skin against his as if it’s the first time all over again.

He reaches behind him and clasps a hand around your wrist, stilling your movement. His chest is rising and falling with labored breaths, water continuing to slide down his skin, pooling beneath his feet.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He slowly pulls your hand down, your palm sliding over his shoulder and down his chest. By pulling your hand down, he’s also drawn you closer to him. He feels the rough fabric of your towel against his back. “Nothing’s wrong.”

You’re closer now; he can feel your breath against his neck more distinctly than before. Your breathing has become labored to match his own. He feels your chest push against his back with each inhale. He tilts his head back so he’s looking up at you as you loom over him. Your cheeks are flushed, and he’s unable to tell if it’s because of him or the lingering steam. He keeps one hand over yours on his chest and brings the other up to cradle your jaw, his fingers lightly grazing over your cheekbone.

“Jun.” You inhale sharply after whispering his name, still holding the showerhead in your other hand. The water is pointed at the shower floor now, occasionally splashing up onto his legs. He pulls your face down, closer to his own, until his nose is brushing against your skin. Then, his lips are against yours, soft and gentle, heart fluttering in his chest. 

You sigh against him, your hand moving freely along his chest now, tracing circles across his damp skin. He moves his other hand up to hold the other side of your face, pulling you further against him. He wants to remain gentle, afraid of the intensity of the fire that continues to blaze within him. Yet, as though entranced, he parts his lips and closes them around yours with more pressure than before. You hum at the movement, your hand halting briefly against his chest before slowly sliding lower down his stomach, reaching dangerous territory as your fingers tease the waistline of his boxers.

Electrified by the sensation, Yeonjun loses control. He breaks the kiss, leaving you with your mouth agape as he stands abruptly, prying the running shower head from your grasp and hanging it back in its place. The water pours over both of you now like rain, black from the dye as it runs down Yeonjun’s bare chest. He tosses the stool out of the shower, ridding himself of the only obstacle between himself and you. 

He cups your neck in his hand, pulling you flush against his chest as he collides with you once more, desperate and feverish as his teeth graze your bottom lip. You gasp against him, hands sliding up his back, tangling themselves in his dripping black hair. He turns and pushes you back against the wall, hands desperate as they work to unravel the towel that still covers you. He tosses it over the curtain rod once you’re free of it, his lips trailing down to explore what he’s just uncovered. Your hands are still in his hair, small gasps and moans slipping past your lips when he reaches the sensitive spots on your chest with his lips, biting gently before smoothing the skin over with his tongue.

Your hands slide down his chest, followed by a trail of black from his hair as they wrap around to his hips. You pull him into you as his mouth travels back up to the crook of your neck, grinding your hips against his. He gasps, biting at your skin when you make contact.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispers, palms covering your breasts as you push yourself into him once more. He groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder as you continue to move against him rhythmically, kissing along his collarbone.

“Yeonjun,” you rasp, moaning softly when he slides his knee between your legs, pushing against your sensitive spot.

“I want you, Y/N.” He knows you know this, but he feels the need to say it at this moment.

You still at his words. He raises his head, eyes meeting yours. He can’t be sure if it’s tears or the shower water, but something is welling in your eyes.

He furrows his brow, brushing your sopping hair behind your ear. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

You smile softly, shaking your head. “Nothing. I just– I needed to hear that.” You softly push your lips against his, sliding his boxers down as you kiss him slowly.

“I love you, Jun,” you whisper against him, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. He catches you, holding you against him as he kisses you back, gingerly, closing his eyes and shutting out the pain he had just seen in your gaze.

He’s too aware now– aware of why there were tears in your eyes. About the guilt he’s felt all these months, and the sickening feeling that has been growing in the pit of his stomach; it’s all become so clear to him. The way he’s been holding onto you so tightly, without thinking about how he’d been dragging you down with him. How he’s been so afraid of the person he was becoming that he couldn’t bear the thought of being alone with himself– without you.

Because he knows, at the end of the day, that you would do anything for him without him even having to ask. That you would stay beside him with claw marks in your skin and bruises around your wrists from how desperate he had been to keep you there, no matter the cost.

He knows that you would ruin yourself a million times over for him. You would never let him go.

Not without him letting you go first.

----------

You had heard it said before that everything would feel just right for a fraction of a moment right before it all went so horribly wrong, so horribly fast. 

It’s subtle at first. You open your eyes, smiling as the sunlight trickles through the open window. Rolling onto your side, you reach out your arm, hoping to brush your hand against his skin. When you find the space beside you to be empty, you’re disappointed, but not particularly surprised. This is to be expected.

However, when you sit up, something is off. Everything is too quiet, too empty. You slide out of bed, wandering into the kitchen, heart rate increasing with each step you take.

“Jun?” You call, biting the inside of your cheek when silence is the only response.

You see a note taped to the front of the fridge. Your breath catches.

Before even reading it, you’re certain you know what it says. There’s a feeling somewhere deep in your gut, toiling like a stormy sea.

You hold your breath as you pull the note off and begin to read.

Y/N,

Have I ever told you how much you remind me of the moon? You are soft, glowing, lighting the darkness. Constant – even when I can’t see you, I know you are there. Somber, kind. Beautiful. 

Everything.

How could I deserve to love the moon when, right now, I can barely even see the stars?

I am the tide. Pulling close to you, then rushing far away. I want to stay close, but right now, I can’t. Something pulls me back, each time.

I love you. So, so much. Because I love you, I have to let you go. I need help. The kind of help that would be cruel to continue asking you to give me. I want to get better, not just for you, but for myself as well.

My moon, please continue to shine. I may not see you, but I will always know you are there. And, like the tide, you will still hear me, even from afar. In the songs on the breeze, the melodies in the trees, the steady beat of your heart. Remember me in all of it.

When the time is right, and if I can get better, I will find you again. I promise. But in the meantime, I ask you just one thing: don’t waste away waiting for me to return. Live. To the fullest, in the most beautiful way you can. Please don’t forget to live.

Love, Jun

Teardrops stain the paper. Your hand shakes as you sink to the ground, unsure of what sounds leave you as your chest heaves, eyes squeezing shut to block out the sunlight that now feels blinding.

Yet, in the midst of it all, something small and warm settles into the pit of your chest. It burns, yet it comforts you. As you sob, fists wrapped up in the soft fabric of his tee shirt that you had fallen asleep in, you pretend that you are holding on to that warm feeling, keeping it close, never letting go.

This feeling – this hope – is what keeps you going. You know that, despite it all, you will not forget to live.

----------

THE SUN SETS, AND YOU FEEL AT PEACE.

The soft pinks and purples of the last bit of sunset begin to fade, rippling away with the ocean’s waves as the sun sinks beneath the horizon line. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes as the salt air fills your nose. The sand is cooling beneath your feet and you shiver as the breeze flows by, wrapping your cardigan tighter around your shoulders.

There’s nobody behind you now, but that’s okay.

A bell dings in the distance. You turn, letting your eyes slide open.

You aren’t sure if it’s him at first, partially due to the distance, and partially because his hair is now back to his natural black color. He’s riding his bike, dinging the small bell from the handle. As he approaches, you can see the soft smile settling on his lips. In his hand, he holds an ice cream cone.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, but you smile, so big you can’t help but laugh.

He stops in front of you, nearly dropping the ice cream cone from his hand before he lets the bike fall to the ground. His own eyes are full of tears, but he too smiles, stars dancing in his eyes. He extends the ice cream cone to you, and you smile wider, fingers brushing against his as you grab hold of it. “Happy birthday, Y/N.”

Your heart skips a beat at his voice. “Thank you, Jun.”

You’re both silent, soaking in the presence of one another, listening to the waves crash against the shore, saltwater spraying across your ankles. His head is tilted towards the sky.

“Look up,” he whispers.

You lean your head back, sighing in contentment as the moon comes into sight.

“It’s beautiful,” you say.

His hand slides into yours.

“Yes. You are.”

[adorehyyuka]

dom!yeonjun w a corruption kink <3

smut mdni

warnings: bff!yeonjun, readers a virgin, readers gender is not mentioned, innocence/corrupting kink, masturbation, he's not rough but also not that gentle, maybe Jjuns a bit possessive, not proofread, this cld be better but wtv

thinking about bff!yeonjun who's known you since before you could talk. he knows everything about you, what your favourite food is, what genre of novels you like, what time you eat dinner . . . . . even the amount of people you've kissed :3 which just so happens to be none >.<

he's the person you ask about everything, despite being the same age he seems to know so much more than you ! he absolutely loves it, loves the way your eyes shine in curiosity whenever he explains something new to you, loves your enthusiast smile whenever he offers to show you how to do something.

you think it's just him being kind and a good best friend, but unknown to you your gentle touches and innocent gazes are just feeding his sick fantasies. he swears he has good intentions, but then he also can't deny the way his cock jumps when you ask about sex <3 . . .

it's when you ask him how to masturbate with a flushed face and a trembling voice that he finally snaps. he lays you down so gently, placing his hands on top of yours and teaching you how to tease yourself. bff!yeonjun who works you up by making you flick your nipples, by caressing your thighs and rubbing yourself over your underwear.

he whispers dirty words in your ear and makes you tease yourself until you're whining and begging with tears staining your flushed cheeks. and fuck he's so sure he comes in his boxers when you whisper out, "please jjun, need you so bad . . . need you inside of me" the way you stare up at him with your watery eyes is driving him insane.

a few minutes later you're splayed out on your back while Yeonjun is thrusting his fat cock into your tight hole, he tries his best to be gentle he swears :( you're squealing, moaning and making so much noise he has no choice but to shut you up with a hand over your drooling mouth >.<

"ffuuck angel, gotta be quiet hm ? love your cute little noises but I can't have anyone else hearing you, after all your sweet moans are only for me, hmm ?"

he loves it when you nod with tears, snot nd drool everywhere, your legs trembling as they rest on top of his shoulders. he loves it when you pull his fingers into your mouth unprompted and start sucking on them. and he adores when he finally makes you come.

yeonjun watches when your first ever orgasm washes over you. his cock only drills into you harder when he feels your walls clenching and pulling him in, he takes so much pride in the fact he can make you look so slutty <3 your eyes roll into the back of your head, and it's your first time so he can't scold you when the sounds you let out are practically screams !

you're so far gone you don't even realise yourself clinging to him, forcing his hips closer to yours with your heels so that when he comes it's so deep inside of you that he swears he sees stars :3

©adorehyyuka