youngkchunk - Tumblr blog

youngkchunk · 2 years ago

Text

well shit that was hot

summer nights (j.yh)

summary: he's your best friend and roommate, but during the heat of summer and the confinement of quarantine, you just can't seem to help yourselves.

note: 18+ content, minors DNI. // this fic is just pure self indulgence, but i'm kind of liking the cheeky college au yunho vibes, you can blame the new wonderwall photos

warnings: best friend!yunho, fem!reader, quarantine and talk of early covid times, sexual frustration, big dick!yunho, oral (m receiving), fingering, semi rough sex, use of toys, light overstimulation, basically reader is pent up and struggling to get off and hot bestie yunho helps out. please let me know if I missed any.

pairings: yunho x reader

genre: college non idol au; suggestive, smut, fluff, comedy

word count: 8.5K

my masterlist || read it on AO3 || the sequel; summer's end

It’s a little impossible not to look at him when he’s like this. He’s been your friend since the start of college, but your roommate for only a little over four months. You didn’t think it would be this difficult. It’s not as if you didn’t know he was attractive, of course you did, but you had always found a steady friendly rhythm with him that never turned overly flirtatious, so living with him should have been safe. It probably would have been until the firm constraints of quarantine, and now it feels like you’re trapped in a pressure cooker.

He’s collapsed back into the couch cushions, Xbox controller in hand and his headset askew, one ear off and one ear on. He’s wearing a pair of ratty gray sweatpants, ones that have been driving you particularly insane the last few weeks, and a fitted black tank top. Yunho’s eyes are trained on the screen, intensely focused. You watch him play, one thumb circling on the left joystick, his other clicking buttons calculated and quick, the tendons in his hands jumping.

“I said on the left,” Yunho says through the mic, his voice firm.

Your thighs press together unconsciously, four months of this absolute sexual drought was starting to take its toll and even his irritated competitive voice was frustrating you. You focus down on your phone from your spot on the opposite side of the couch and continue scrolling Instagram.

“Obviously it’s our left, we’re going the same way, Mingi.” Yunho groans and you bite the inside of your cheek.

It’s almost ninety degrees today and the two measly window units you have in the apartment are working overtime, but still not bringing the temperature down to a manageable temperature. Yunho’s skin has a light sheen of sweat across it, and you find yourself swallowing hard, trying to look anywhere else but at him.

“Nice,” Yunho comments through his headset and you can hear the echo of Mingi and the other guys shouting through the one headphone that sits half off his right ear.

When he takes in a sharp breath, hunching over with his elbows now on his knees to focus, you have to go. Climbing over the back of the couch so you don’t have to walk in front of the TV and break his concentration, you pass through the small breakfast nook and into the kitchen to open the freezer. Sometimes when you were sure he was going to be occupied for long enough, you’d slip into the shower and take care of this frustrated tension yourself, but lately even that wasn’t working. Four months without being properly touched was officially too much.

You don’t hear him come into the kitchen until he chuckles at you, watching you lean into the open freezer, the cold frosty air passing across your cheeks.

“Hot?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you sigh and back up from the freezer to shut the door, opting to lean against the kitchen counter by the sink behind you in your small alley kitchen, “if I knew when we signed our lease that we were going to be literally trapped inside all summer I would have said let’s spring for the better place with central air.”

“Same,” he steps past you to reach into the fridge and grab a water bottle.

You watch him as he cracks the seal on the top and takes a long swig, the muscles in his throat tensing pleasantly when he swallows.

“What?” he says, noticing the way your eyes are on him.

You clear your throat, shrugging, “Nothing, I’m just out of it today.”

“Ah,” he shrugs. After a beat he turns to you, “What are you doing today, anyways?”

You sigh, “probably the same thing I’ve been doing since class ended? Nothing and more nothing? Maybe I’ll finally pick up a new hobby,”

�� “You’ve picked up several,” he notes, a teasing glint in his eye.

“Yes, I know, ha ha.”

“I just don’t know why you thought picking up knitting in the middle of June would be a good idea,” he shrugs and starts to head back out of the kitchen. “Our air conditioner’s broken? Add more wool to the problem, that should solve it.”

“Oh, whatever, at least I’m trying to fill the time,” You retort, heading back out to the main room with him, “I seriously never thought I’d say I wish classes would start up again, but at least I’d have something to do.”

“Yeah,” he flops back down on the couch, tossing the controller onto the coffee table and taking another swig of water, “that and the not working thing is really kind of fucked.”

“Yeah,”

You had both worked as servers last year until Yunho lucked into a bar tending job at a better spot. When he brought you over with him it was the financial boost you needed to start really saving some money, but now with quarantine and the uncertainty, you are both eating into your savings month after month.

“They said it should end by September,” he shrugs, “if we made it four months, we can make it two more.”

“Flu season,” you shake your head, “it’s not ending.”

He rolls his eyes, “you are the least optimistic person I’ve ever met.”

“Realistic,” you counter.

“Yeah,” he swipes a hand across his brow, “well if we’re still not working by October that’s gonna be tough,”

“Yeah,” you can’t help but worry the inside of your lip with your teeth, the idea of it nerve wracking.

“Mingi said his place might be hiring,” he notes, “but the pay isn’t great.”

“It’s pay,” you say, “and hiring in the middle of a pandemic has to be a good sign, right?”

“Maybe,”

“I have to figure out what I can do from home,” you murmur, “I’ve only ever been a server, I don’t know who would hire me for a desk job.”

He sits up a bit, and you can see his brain shift into problem solving mode, one of the many things you love about him. He thinks for a minute and then says, “You could do something like a call center?”

“Eh, maybe,” you shrug, “not ideal.”

“Transcribe stuff?” He offers.

“I checked into that, the pay is terrible,”

“Okay, so a last resort.” He thinks again, biting his lip, then looking up at you with bright eyes, “maybe you could finally do some freelance stuff? Maybe put a portfolio together, I could help with the website,”

The way he’s looking at you makes you want to melt into the couch, but you manage, “Yeah, I could do that. It might take time to make it profitable, but it’s a good idea.”

He smiles at you, “You should, you’d be good at it.”

“I’ll think about it,” you agree.

His smile quirks into something a bit more wry, and you know he’s about to say something sarcastic, “In the meantime there’s always OnlyFans.”

That is not at all what you expected him to say, and you can barely respond, “What?”

“Calm down, I’m kidding,” he laughs at your panicked expression, “I know you wouldn’t be comfortable with that.”

“Yeah,” his soft laugh helps you relax, and you continue, “it’s not like I have anything against the people who do, I mean, get it if you can get it right?”

He laughs again, covering his mouth with his hand before he says, “y/n, relax. Besides, I doubt you’ve ever taken a nude photo in your life.”

A sharp pang of heat runs through you, but you can’t help but fire back, “Yes, I have?”

Both his eyebrows raise high, “I didn’t think you’d admit to it if you had,”

You never talk like this with him. Short of you both checking in to make sure your respective dates went well, and Yunho having a slight history of eyeing up your past partners a little too much to make sure they weren’t total assholes, romance and sex was not a frequent topic. Something about the thick summer air and the fact that you had been trapped inside for months on end in such close quarters with him had you getting a little bold. “Yunho, I’m not a prude. I’m just selective,”

“I’m just surprised,” he raises his hands in mock defeat, “you’ve just always seemed like kind of a romantic, less college hookup.”

“Yeah,” you settle back against the arm of the couch, “I guess you’re right, but being a romantic doesn’t mean I don’t hookup with people. It’s just been…a while. And it’s not like I’ve sent a ton of nudes or something, I don’t mean that, I just mean that I have, once or twice.”

“You seem nervous,” he chuckles, “I’m not judging. I think it’s nice that you’re selective.”

“Thanks,” you manage, not sure what to say to something like that.

He lets it lie for just a minute and then says it, unable to help himself, “who are you even sending nudes to?”

“Sent,” you correct, “Past tense,”

“Still,” he presses a little, a smile still across his mouth and you know that he’s just being playful. If you told him to stop, he would, if you said you were uncomfortable he would back off immediately, but there’s something open there, and if you just step through you’re not sure where this conversation might go.

You groan, “Okay, fine,” he grins, “but we’re never talking about this again and you cannot tease me.”

“Cross my heart,” he says, and he mimes it, his finger dragging into an X across his chest.

“Do you remember Park Seonghwa?” You say, and your cheeks heat thinking about the very short lived but very lovely relationship you had in sophomore year.

His mouth drops open a little surprised, “Yeah, I definitely do.”

“What?” You press him.

“I don’t know who I expected,” he says honestly, “you could do worse. He’s a good guy,”

“I know, it’s a shame,”

“What is?” he cocks his head to the side.

“We just didn’t really gel long term,” you shrug, “but he was a really sweet guy, the kind who plans dates and stuff? Plus, the rest,” you catch yourself, blushing harder and dragging a hand over your face, “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

His mouth is pressed in a tight line, holding in a laugh before saying, “I mean you have to tell me now,”

You sigh and let it rush out of you, “The sex was good, like really good. We just weren’t in love with each other so everything kind of faded after a while.”

“You’re blushing really hard right now,” he grins, his tongue in cheek.

“I said you couldn’t make fun of me,” you groan, “I don’t interrogate you about your sexual escapades.”

“Escapades?” His eyebrow raises.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.”

“I know,” he shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to tease you. It’s cute,”

Your stomach flip flops, “Great,”

“But I’m sorry anyways, that it didn’t work out,” he leans back into his side of the couch and takes another drink of water, glancing out the window briefly before returning his eyes on you.

“It’s fine,” you shrug, “it was a while ago.”

“Mm,” he nods, “so that’s a no to OnlyFans, then?”

He’s good at twisting moments back around towards a joke, keeping things light whenever there’s a serious turn in conversation. You give him a smile, “Yeah, that’s a no.”

He takes a deep intake of breath and exhales long, bouncing his leg, tapping his fingers along the side of his knee. You love this energy he has, seemingly boundless and pouring out of him in the smallest ways. It’s been months since he’s been able to properly visit the dance studio and see most of his friends other than you, you’ve both been good and careful about the pandemic, but you can see that it leaves him tense.

You’re about to ask him what he’s going to do with the rest of his day, when his head snaps back you and he says, seemingly out of the blue, “Just Park Seonghwa, then?”

“What?” You ask, confused.

“You said you’re selective,” he explains, “so you’ve only sent pictures to him?”

You feel yourself blush again, heat spreading across your cheeks, and your stomach knots tight. He’s walking an invisible line that you’ve always kept cleanly between you, and you have no idea how you should respond. “Why do you want to know?” Your voice sounds smaller than you wanted it to.

“I’m curious, I guess,” he shrugs, but his eyes don’t leave yours.

You shift positions on the couch, desperately trying to ignore just how tight your shorts seem to suddenly be where the denim bunches against your core. “No, not just him.”

“Interesting,” he says.

“There was a guy I was talking to at the beginning of lockdown,” you explain, thinking back on your brief connection, “we were supposed to meet up for a date and then the stay-at-home orders came down, but we kept talking.”

“Oh,” his eyes widen a little, “I’m sorry, are you guys still… are you seeing someone, and I have like no idea?”

You laugh, “No, no,” you wave him off, “we eventually just stopped talking. We were just messing around for a while.”

“Damn,” he shakes his head, “I thought I was just the most unobservant man on the planet for second,”

You shake your head, thinking back to your time attempting to sext the guy you met on Tinder during the first month of quarantine. It was fun at first, but something about him just didn’t do it. He never knew what to say, was focused on himself, and he was cute, but he left you more frustrated than when you started talking half the time.

“He wasn’t like… an asshole or anything?” Yunho cocks his head to the side when he asks, his eyes studying you.

“No,” you smile at him, “he was nice just not really… helping,”

“Ah,” he clears his throat, his eyes flicking away. Now you have crossed the line, officially. Standing in this strange new space where you’re alluding to your orgasms, or lack thereof, with a man who up to this point had made it clear he just viewed you as a friend.

You glance down at your phone nervously, not a single notification to open and distract you from this. The apartment is quiet for a beat, just the sound of the wheezing window unit pumping tepid air into the room. Your head snaps back up when he says, “So he couldn’t get you off,”

“Yunho,” your whole body feels tense and anxious at his words, “what are we doing?”

“Talking,” he answers with no hesitation, and for the first time the way he looks at you feels different.

“This doesn’t feel like talking,”

He holds your gaze, “We can stop talking if you want.”

You’ve already come this far, and whatever you’re about to do or not do might fully ruin the delicately balanced friendship you’ve crafted with him, but you’re pretty sure you don’t care. “We can talk,” you assure him.

The space between you on the couch feels miles long. Your eyes flick over him, his position reclined against the back of his half of the sectional, his knees spread wide, and he bends his arm at the elbow to rest his hand against his lip, thinking as he watches you. Finally, he prompts you again, “He couldn’t, right?”

You look down quickly, away from his intense gaze, “Not really,”

“Why not?” He asks, his voice soft and low.

“I don’t really know that it was his fault,” you admit, looking back up to him, “it’s been a while and I couldn’t really get out of my own head about the whole thing.”

The heated flirting drops and suddenly he’s back to being your best friend, “are you telling me you haven’t come in months?”

“Jesus,” you cover your face with your hands for a second, dragging your hands through your hair, “when you just say it like that.”

“I’m really not sure how I’m supposed to say that,” he shrugs, “but seriously, like what… this whole time?”

“I mean,” you nod, “pretty much.”

“You haven’t come in four months?” He clarifies.

You wince, and find yourself admitting, “more like… six?”

“Six months.” He repeats.

“You really don’t have to make me feel worse,” you pull your legs up to your chest, “it’s not for lack of trying.”

“I don’t mean it like that,” he shakes his head, “I’m not trying to make you feel bad I guess I just… I mean is everything okay?”

You laugh, sharp, and shake your head, “This is kind of mortifying, you know that right?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he assures you, “It’s just me, but if you don’t want to talk about it, we definitely don’t have to.”

“No, it’s just,” you sigh, “I really don’t know if it’s just me, or my meds, or what, it’s just been like not working right.”

“Oh,” he nods, and after a beat he looks up, “can I help?”

“Yunho,” You level him with your eyes, “I appreciate your confidence here, but if I can’t get myself off, I don’t know how you’re going to, and I’m really not trying to have the most embarrassing sexual experience of my life with my best friend, who I live with, during a global pandemic.”

“I highly doubt it would be the most embarrassing,” he grins at you.

“Yunho,” you shake your head, “seriously.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, softening a bit, “I just haven’t been with anyone since this whole thing started either, and with literally no end in sight I was just thinking maybe we could,”

“Help each other?” You finish for him.

“Yeah, basically,”

“Listen,” you start to say, desperately ignoring the pooling heat in your stomach, “it’s not that I’m not interested, I just don’t want to disappoint either of us when we’re trapped together and make things awkward.”

“So, you are interested?” He grins.

“That was not the important part of that sentence,” you roll your eyes.

“y/n,” he leans forwards, elbows on his knees, “I’ll drop it if you really want me to, but what if it’s good? We could try, just once and see.”

“Yunho,” you manage, the indecision clear in your voice.

“We’ll never talk about it again if it’s not good or not what you want,” he offers, “or you can tell me now to shut the fuck up and I will. I just haven’t been with anyone in months, and frankly you’re driving me fucking insane walking around the apartment in shorts that short.”

“Oh my God,” you shake your head, laughing at his frankness.

“Come on,” he urges gently, “I bet I can make you come.”

A hot knife of need cuts through you, and you look down again, away from his gaze and focus for just a minute. This was likely the worst idea, and you can see forward into the future, his disappointment that he couldn’t get you there, and your continued frustration only now public and uncomfortable knowledge. His words ring in your brain. What if it’s good?

It had been a while, but you can’t help the words that leave you, a challenge on your lips, “I bet you can’t.”

“What?” it’s his turn to sound a little unsettled, and you look back up to lock eyes.

“I bet you can’t make me come,” you say again.

His eyes darken, and he drop his head a little, looking at you from hooded eyes, “Are you saying yes?”

“I’m saying you can try,” he can’t help but smile at your words, “you can try, but it’s just this once. And you can’t complain afterwards or tease me about this.”

The hot flirtation across his face fades instantly, “I would never do that to you,”

“I,” you nod, “I know, it’s just embarrassing.”

He reaches across the couch with an outstretched hand, “Come here,”

You move without thinking, taking his hand, and letting him pull you over to stand between his knees. His fingers hook into the belt loops of your shorts, and he looks up at you, “I would never do that to you,” he repeats, “you’re my friend first, okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Just relax,” he says, and he squeezes your hips in his large hands. Your breath catches and he smiles at the reaction, squeezing you again to see if he can elicit the same response, “Do you have any hard no’s?”

“Oh,” you blink, thinking for a minute and carding through your past sexual experiences, “Not really? I don’t love name calling, but I mean, it’s not a hard no I guess?”

He smirks, “I wasn’t going to call you a whore on the first date,”

“Yunho!” you smack his shoulder, and he smiles wide, laughing through the awkward tension and easing some of your nerves.

“Alright,” he settles, “no name calling. Can I lead?”

Your brow quirks up at his question, “As opposed to?”

“You leading,” he smiles, “but I think that answers my question.”

You blush, “Oh! Yeah, yeah, you can lead.”

“Are we doing this now?” He checks.

“If we’re not going to do it now, I’m going to think about it until we do.”

“Fair enough,” his thumbs brush against the skin at the top of your shorts, soft and even.

“Okay,” you drop your hands and rest them on his forearms, “um… where do you want to start?”

He smiles up at you, “I want you to start by relaxing.”

“Sorry,”

“y/n?” He says.

“Hmm?” You look down to meet his eyes, sucking in a tight breath of air when he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Shut up, okay?”

“Got it,” you don’t know what you should do with your hands, with anything, so you settle for biting your lip and watching him.

He looks down dragging his fingers across your skin until he hooks them further and uses his thumb to pop the button of your jean shorts open. You’re suddenly very grateful that you decided to shave your legs yesterday and you were wearing not completely unbecoming underwear, but your mind blanks out again when he drags down the zipper and pulls the shorts off over your hips. He taps your calf softly to prompt you to step up and out of them, and he kicks them back out of your way once they’re off you.

The t-shirt you’re wearing is oversized, and it drops low over you, brushing the tops of your thighs. His gaze is hungry, and he gathers the fabric in his hands to push it up your body just enough, revealing the soft plane of your stomach.

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he sighs, looking you over.

“You haven’t seen a girl in months,” you retort.

He doesn’t look up, but you can see that he rolls his eyes and smiles, “Learn to take a compliment,” he says, “you’re hot.”

You can’t even begin to formulate a response, he doesn’t give you a chance before he leans forward and presses his lips to your hip, softly working kisses across the top of your panties, hooking a thumb under one side and pulling them up a bit so he can move down the crease of your thigh before moving up and humming softly, a kiss against your stomach, your other hip, your other thigh. You’re trembling already, the sensation of another person’s skin on yours enough to make you dizzy, but his slow nuzzling kisses have you feeling weak and craving.

“Come here,” he murmurs again, and leans back against the cushions. He directs you with his hands on your hips, stepping you back and sliding a knee between your open legs before pulling you forwards and prompting you to settle on him, straddling his thigh.

When the tense muscle of his thigh connects with your clit, despite the layers of fabric between you, you let out a soft pant. He catches your arms in his large hands, sweeping down your skin and taking your hands. He pulls you forwards slightly, and settles your hands on his chest, before returning his hands to your hips.

He tugs on your them gently, which rolls you forwards just a little on his thigh before sliding you back to your original position, the friction against your clit warm and firm. He tenses his muscles beneath you, watching your face carefully when you drop your mouth open a little and suck in a breath. It’s obvious to you now that he’s going to be good at this, and a nervous thrill runs up your spine.

He rocks your hips again and you catch on quickly, planting your hands more firmly on his chest and rolling your hips yourself. You’re slow to start, maintaining a steady fluid pressure against your clit, and he keeps his hands on your hips as you move. His brows are knit together, his mouth open as he watches you, and you can’t help but pant a little laugh, “I thought you were going to make me come,”

He smirks, “you haven’t come in six months and you’re in a rush?”

“Fuck off,” you manage, and he tenses his leg again in response which has you gripping his shirt in your hands, warm pleasure coiling through you.

He keeps one hand on your hip, but with the other he gathers the material of your shirt in his palm and pulls up, stopping just under your breasts. He watches you, his teeth catching his lower lip as he watches you grind yourself against him. His gaze is intense, and when he leans forwards just enough to move the hand on your hip up back and then back down to cup your ass, you sigh.

“Yunho,” you mumble, swallowing the tense knot in your throat and he relaxes his hand, looking up at you immediately.

“You good?” He murmurs.

You nod, “Yeah,”

He drops your shirt and sweeps your hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear and keeping his hand cupping the side of your face, “Sure?”

Your hips still, and you come back to center to meet his eyes, “I’m okay,” you assure him, “are you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he runs a thumb along your cheekbone, “I’m just checking,”

“Can we move to the bedroom?” you ask, and he drops his hands to your hips to ease you up off his thigh. He lets out a pleased hum when he sees the dark wet patch of his sweatpants where you had worked yourself against him, and without thinking further he reaches out and catches his fingers against you, feeling your damp underwear.

You stumble a step back, the sensation catching a moan in your throat, and he snaps a hand up to grab your forearm and steady you. “Fuck,” he laughs, “sorry,”

“Let’s go,” you tug his arm.

“Your room or mine?” He asks.

“Yours,” you answer immediately, “your bed is bigger.”

He takes your hand and leads you down the hall to the room at the back, and as he crosses the threshold, he remembers an image of you passed out on top of his bed covers the first month you lived here, a few too many drinks too early in the evening. He liked the look of you in his bed, he remembers. He turns and takes you in his capable hands, maneuvering your back to the face the bed and tipping you down onto the mattress.

“Can I take these off you?” He pulls the side of your panties.

“Yeah,”

He pulls both sides down over your hips, and you lift them to make it a little easier for him. He groans softly when he sees how slowly they pull away from your core, slightly stuck to your wetness. He tosses them away, pushing your shirt up again, and dropping to his knees on the floor between your open legs. Immediately you’re anxious, something about this had always been so intimate, and he hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You look up to the ceiling, your hands bunching in the sheets beneath you. Yunho’s hands coast up your thighs, dip up over your hips, smooth across your stomach, before he stops completely. One of his large hands covers yours, slipping his fingers into your fist to relax your hand, “Hey,” he says softly, “you want to tell me why you’re so nervous?”

You look down at him, he’s still perched between your open legs, one hand on yours and the other warmly over your thigh. His eyes are warm, open. “I don’t know,” you say honestly.

“Is it me? Or what we’re doing?” He asks.

“I think both,” you confess, “you’re my best friend, this is just… it’s a lot.”

“Okay,” he slides away from you, his hand leaving yours.

“Wait, I didn’t mean we shouldn’t,” you exclaim, sitting up and letting your shirt drop back over you.

“We’re not done, y/n,” he shakes his head, “just trust me.”

You nod and watch as he pulls back the coverlet and top sheet on his bed, nodding so that you can climb under the covers. He crosses the room and lowers the temperature on the air conditioning unit a few more degrees, making it whine as it kicks into gear and starts pushing cooler air into the room. Without preamble, he pulls off his blank tank top and tosses it to the side and shucks off his sweats and boxers.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, and he smiles at you.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what I expected,” you say.

“What?” He teases, “I work out, you see me work out all the time.”

He’s right, you do. You’re not surprised by the lean tone of his body, broad shouldered and taut arms and abs, you’re stricken by the size of him and how you’ve never once considered that he might be bigger than your previous partners.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” you clear your throat softly, “you’re just, uh,”

“Perfect?” He jests, climbing into bed and pulling the covers back over him, “Well-endowed? A god among men?”

“I was going to say big,” you laugh, and he crowds you a little, his fingers tickling your sides until you giggle, slapping his hands away, “god, you’re a menace.”

“I aim to please,” he teases again, tugging the hem of your shirt up, silently asking you to take it off.

You pull it over your head, tossing it over the edge of the bed and twisting to try and unhook your bra. Yunho slips a hand behind you, catching the clasp in between his thumb and first two fingers and slides it just right so that the hook and eye claps fall open.

“You’re too good at that,” you comment, sliding the straps off your shoulders and pulling it away to toss it aside.

“It’s really not difficult,” he chuckles, pulling you into his arms and further under the covers.

You have the urge to cover yourself, very aware that you’re naked in front of him for the first time but tucked under the blanket and pressed against his chest leaves you fairly concealed still and you try your best to stay calm and let him lead.

“Now,” he says, his voice low, “can you relax for me?”

His words make you clench your muscles, and he feels you twitch beneath him. He studies your face for a moment and tries again, “Can you be good for me?”

“Oh,” you breathe, gripping his back.

He seems to have you figured out now, just enough, and he lowers himself half over you. He cups the back of your head, pulling you closer, and he finally presses his mouth to yours. His lips are soft, and he releases a contented sigh of warm air against your cheek. He holds you close, kissing you sweetly at first and then nuzzles you gently with his nose before dipping his tongue into your mouth and flicking it against yours.

You moan into his mouth and his hands tighten on you as he intensifies the kiss, a little desperate, hot, and needy. It’s all the intimacy you need for things to start to slot into place in your brain. Yunho’s kissing you, and he’s frankly very good at it. You draw him closer, your arms around him and pulling him down against you, your bare breasts pressed tightly against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the contact, and suddenly his hands feel everywhere. Yunho kisses you again, softly biting your bottom lip, moving down your throat to lick and suck at your pulse points, nipping at your collarbone, tongue dragging a line down your chest as he turns his attention to your breasts.

“Fuck,” you choke, dropping your head back against his pillows when he takes a nipple in his mouth.

When you wind a hand into the back of his hair and pull him in closer, he sucks harder, sparking a line of pleasure straight to your core. He lifts up, his mouth leaving you, so he can settle on his side next to you. He pulls you close into his chest, one arm around your back as he supports you against his shoulder.

“Yunho,” you whine as his hand presses down across the length of your body, and he shudders at his name on your lips like that, finally no pretense or anxiety, just wanting.

“Spread your legs,” he murmurs, pressing his fingers between your tightly locked thighs.

You comply immediately, and he pushes one of your legs open wider, your leg bending the knee and up by your side to give him the most access. He wastes no time, his fingers sweeping up your wet slit until he finds your firm swollen clit at the apex of your thighs. He watches you as he rolls his fingers, testing which way has you the most breathy and pliant, what pressure makes your hand on his back tighten and dig your nails in.

“Like this?” He asks when he finds a good rhythm.

It is good, a hot rush of warmth radiating up from your core. It feels good to be taken care of finally after so long, safe with him pressed up against you, his lips against your forehead, soft kisses as he works your body. When you don’t respond he kisses you and murmurs again, “tell me what you like,”

“Here,” you catch his hand in yours, and he stills his fingers. You slide his hand down further, pressing the tips of his fingers inside you and he nods against you. You let your hand fall away as he starts to press two fingers inside you, pumping them softly to ease them in until his knuckles rest against you. He shifts you in his arms to get a better angle, curling around you slightly as he thrusts them up, curling them and catching against your g-spot.

“That,” you stutter, “like that,”

He grins, “There you are,”

“Fuck,” you stammer, dropping your head against his chest, one hand tight against his bare thigh.

He pumps his fingers faster, spurned on every time you gasp and moan. You shudder against him, hiding your face in his neck, tense pleasure curling up inside you. You rock your hips against his hand and he lets you help set the pace, but you can’t reach it. He feels incredible, better than anything you’ve done in months, but just like before it feels like you’re standing on the edge looking over and can’t reach.

He presses up against your g-spot, rocking his hand and spiking a line of pleasure up your chest but when it passes, it passes. “Yunho,” you pant, and he shushes you, mistaking your words for encouragement.

“Yunho,” you reach down and catch his wrist, pushing his hand away and he pulls his fingers from you.

“What?” He murmurs, pushing back your hair and shifting so he can see your face, “you ok?”

“Yeah,”

“I thought I had you close, why’d you stop me?” he smooths a hand up your side.

“You did,” you assure him, “I just couldn’t get there,”

He dips his head to kiss you, his thumb massaging soothing circles into your hip, “Let’s try something else,”

“It’s okay,” you brush him off, “let me get you off and then we can,”

“y/n,” he interrupts you, “I didn’t think it would be that easy. Come on, lay back,” he eases you into the sheets and you scramble up, leaning on your elbows as he shifts out of bed, “where’s your vibrator?”

“What?” Your cheeks flame.

“We’ve lived together for months,” he explains, his gaze direct, “I’ve heard it, so come on, where is it?”

You throw an arm over your face and groan, “Bottom drawer of my nightstand.”

“See? Not so hard,” He shrugs it off and and you hear him pad out into the hall and through the door to your bedroom.

While he’s gone you recover your breath, he was right, he did have you close. You were so frustrated and desperate for it at this point you didn’t know what to do, but when you see him return with a serious smirk you blush harder.

“You’ve got a little collection going,” he says, “but this one’s industrial.” He holds up the wand and gives you a cheeky grin.

“Oh my God, I really hate you,”

“You really, really don’t.” He shifts back onto the bed and pulls back the covers a bit, “Now, I have some clever ideas on what to do with this, but I’m in no rush.” He tosses it against the mattress and shifts back over top of you.

“You’re really having fun with this, aren’t you?” You nudge his chest.

“Yeah,” he replies, “I definitely am,”

Wrapped up like this, you feel closer to him that you’ve felt with anyone in a long, long time. You smile, kissing his shoulder softly and looking back up to meet his eyes, “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” He asks.

“Making this fun,” you tell him honestly.

“Sex is supposed to be fun,” he replies, “and I don’t know what has you so tense, but you’re okay with me. I’ve got you,”

It’s things like that that make you worry this might have been a bad idea after all, dangerous words for someone so close to the edge of falling in love with their best friend.

You nod, not trusting your words for a minute, so you pull him back down for a kiss. You’re lazy and slow together, the kisses alone helping reignite some of the heat in your core, his hands, and the way they caress you making you wetter again by the second. You slide a hand between your bodies, reaching for him now and find his hard length pressed along your inner thigh. When you shift, closing your hand around his cock, he hisses against your mouth and pulls his head back.

“Holy shit,” he groans, watching as you stroke your hand up from the base of his cock upwards, your thumb sliding over the head and smearing the pearl of pre-cum across it. Your hand looks small wrapped around him, and your muscles clench up at the thought that at some point tonight, you’d be fitting him inside you.

“Here,” your hand leaves him for a moment so you can push at his shoulder, urging him to lay back, “let me take care of you,”

He complies but shakes his head, “I’m not done with you,”

“I never said you were,” you brush his hands away from you and slide down his body now that he’s flat on his back. His cock stands up perfectly straight and straining, and you’re not quite sure just how many inches he is but you know you’re going to struggle to take him in your mouth.

You lick a stripe up his length, from base to tip, and watch as his head rolls instantly back against the pillows. He groans when you do it again, and when you hold him again in your hand and slide your lips over the tip of him to take just the first bit of him in your mouth, his hips jerk slightly.

“Sorry,” he says, “fuck, sorry, it’s been way too fucking long,”

You hum, a little laugh, and the vibrations make him groan again and he fists the sheets beneath him by his hips. You bob your head experimentally, seeing how much of him you can take, your mouth stretched around him and the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat. It’s uncomfortable, but not unpleasant, so you flatten your tongue along the underside of him and drag your head up and down again. You ghost your nails softly along his thighs as you suck him, hollowing out your cheeks and pulling back up to flick your tongue firmly against his tip again.

He moans softly when you dip your head low again, taking as much of him as possible, but still not reaching the base of him. Your gag reflex fires a little and you cough around him, easing back up to give your throat a chance to adjust and blink back the sudden sensation of tears. You’re doing your best to even out your breathing through your nose and slide back down his length again when his hand snakes into your hair and he pulls you up and off him.

“What, what’s wrong?” You look up to him, blinking fast, but the look he’s giving you now isn’t like before.

“I’m not going to last like that,” he says, pulling you forwards and rolling you underneath him, “and I need to be inside you right fucking now.”

He pushes your legs open with his hand and runs his fingers up your wet slit, rocking your clit a few times and eliciting a shaky moan from your lips. You nod fast, “Please,”

He lines himself up with your entrance, catching the head of his cock on your clit, “Wait, wait, are you safe, should I,”

“I’m good,” you insist, “I have an IUD, just please come here,”

He’s slow when he pushes into you, incredibly cognizant of his size and the experience he’s had with past partners, but at the feeling of your walls pressing tight around him he pauses, dropping his head to your shoulder, “Oh fuck,”

“Yunho,” you wriggle your hips, the feeling of him stretching you better than anything, “don’t stop,”

He bites down on your shoulder softly, groaning as he pushes further, and when he’s halfway in he pulls away to check you, “You okay?”

“Please,” you pull at his hips, desperate for him to be closer, “I need you,”

“Fuck, baby,” he breathes as he watches the rest of his cock disappear inside you.

You’re impossibly full, warm in places you didn’t know could be warm, feeling tiny sparks of pleasure with every minute shift of his hips. This is exactly what you needed, the full feeling of his cock buried deep inside you and his whispered words in your ear.

“You gotta move,” you beg him.

He pulls out almost completely and dives his hips back in, sinking himself as far as he can go and knocking your hips together. “You’re fucking incredible,” he pants as he pistons his hips again, “you take me so fucking well,”

You choke at his words, arching up against him as he starts to fuck you faster. He kisses you hard, one hand tightly on your cheek and the other locked on your hip as he thrusts, “like you were fucking made for me,” he says against your mouth.

“Oh, God,” you grip his arms, holding him to you as you rock your hips back up in time to meet each move of his hips.

“You need me to tell you?” He manages, his lips hot against your ear as he covers you, his sweat slick body hot and heavy over you, filling you, “Do you want me to tell you how good you’re being for me?”

Your broken moan tells him everything he needs to know, and he pushes the damp hair back from your face to watch you, your eyes screwing shut at his words, shocks of pleasure running up from your core to your chest.

“So good for me,” he murmurs again, dipping his fingers between your lips.

You close your lips around them immediately, running your tongue across them, tasting yourself on his skin. When you open your eyes he’s staring down at you in awe, his brows tight together, mouth open and tensed, his eyes rolling when you take the length of his fingers in your mouth and suck on them gently.

“Fuck,” he pants, and his pace falters, he pulls his fingers free and repositions, and when he drives into you with a well angled thrust that drags perfectly along your walls you rock back with a cry. Yunho catches your bottom teeth with his thumb and drags your head back down to keep your eyes on him. He’s close, you can feel it, but so are you. He draws your gaze, “say my name, baby,”

“Oh,” you pant, “fuck, oh, fuck,”

“My name,” he repeats, “say it,”

You try, but it gets caught in your throat when he slams back into you and you whimper, your nails digging into his back.

“Tell me,” he pumps his hips again, “you can do it,”

With a gasp he pulls down on your hair, tugging your scalp with just the right pressure, “Yunho, Yunho, Yunho,” you chant, the knot of pleasure so tight in your belly you’re sure you’re going to burst, “please, please, baby, please,”

When he pulls away from you, out of you, the cry that leaves your lips is desperate. He’s quick though, folding a pillow in half and lifting you like you weigh nothing, propping your hips up high at an angle you know is going to ruin you. He reaches across you and from the tangled sheets he pulls your vibrator out and clicks it on.

“Yunho, I don’t,” you start and watch as he gets the setting right.

“Shh,” he interrupts, stifling your soft whines, “you wanted to come,”

You cry out when he sinks back into you, this new angle putting pressure in new places and stirring a sensation deep in your core. He rocks his hips, holding your thigh with one hand to grip you steady and gets his positioning right so that he can stay comfortable on his knees and thrust up into you just right. When he eases the vibrator down onto your clit you’re brain whites out, the sensations blending together in a haze.

“Oh fuck,” he manages, “tell me you’re close,”

You whine an incoherent response, looking up at him through hazy eyes.

“Yeah, you are,” he smiles, never slowing his hips, “just a little more, I want you to come for me, can you be good for me?”

It slams into without warning, wrenching your body up and arched against him, your thighs a shaking mess. Distantly you hear his low voice, “Let go, that’s my pretty girl.” You can feel the flush of blush run up your chest to your cheeks, and when you’ve ridden it through and he doesn’t lift the vibrator you jerk your hands down, writhing and pushing it away.

“One more,” he says, but you shake your head, “No?”

“Yunho,” you shake your head desperately, pushing the vibrator away, the sensation far too much for the level of overstimulation, “please, I can’t,”

“Okay, okay,” he clicks it off and tosses it aside, his hips still rolling into you just more slowly now, “I’ve got you,”

“Come here,” you drag him towards you desperately, and he comes back down to lay across you, “please I want you,”

“Fuck,” he chants again, “I won’t last,”

“Come,” you urge him, holding him close and rolling your hips with his, “please, I need it,”

He speeds up, desperate and panting, his forehead pressed against yours. When he rocks downwards, collapsing his weight a little further onto you, the angle of your bodies still propped up by the folded pillow has his cock drag perfectly over your g-spot again and you shake against him, gripping him tight and whining as another orgasm washes over you.

When you clench down around him for the second time he jerks into you twice more, coming hard and hot inside you, your name on his lips on a loop. Your ears are ringing, your body boneless and you can barely catch your breath. When he moves to slide out of you, you whimper, and he looks down at you.

“Oh my God,” he pants, rolling onto his side and gathering you up in his arms to lock you against his chest, “come here,”

You shift as close to him as you can, feeling like you need every inch of his skin on yours. You’re already lolling in and out of a dazed sleep when his voice brings you back. “Hey,” his fingers stroke your cheek, “you’re okay?”

“Okay?” You crack open your eyes, “I’m fucking fantastic,”

“I didn’t hurt you?” He brushes a hand down your hip.

You shake your head and cup his cheek, “Perfect, you were perfect,”

He grins, “I’ll remember you said that.”

“Don’t you dare be smug right now,” you slap his chest softly, letting your eyes slip closed again.

“I won’t,” he says, his voice shifting softer, and he nuzzles the side of your face, pressing kisses to your cheek, “That was… we should do that again,”

“I don’t think we should ever stop doing that,” you agree, glancing up at him.

He squeezes you tight, “Give me like twenty minutes,”

“Yun, I’m kidding,” you hide your face in his chest, shaking your head as he laughs above you.

“I’m not,”

You smooth a hand down his arm, snuggling against him and closing your eyes again, “Let’s sleep first. Sleep and then I’ll let you do whatever you want to me forever,”

He chuckles, the vibration of his low laugh against your cheek where you’re pressed against his chest, “Deal,” he says, “I’ll remember that too.”

~end~

a/n: i'm working on a companion piece to this since i'm just so soft for boyfy college yunho, so keep an eye out for that. for those of you looking for into the aurora chapters, i'm working on it too! new content will be posted soon, i'm just in a bit of a yunho mood.

update: sequel is now posted here!

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youngkchunk · 2 years ago

Text

Adorable. I didn’t even stop reading when I realised I had read it before. I don’t think I’ll ever do that with any of @bobateastay ‘s works

observatories - park seonghwa

park seonghwa x fem!reader

cw - fansign, fluff, brief tears

word count: 1.7k

a/n: this was requested by @lost-midnight-flower - i want to apologise from the bottom of my heart for taking so long to complete this but i hope that you'll enjoy it anyway, thank you so so much for your patience <3

Seonghwa thought that your eyes looked like the night sky. Regardless of what any astronomer said, Seonghwa was convinced that there wasn’t a single constellation that wasn’t sparkling in your eyes. Of course that was a cheesy thing to think - that as you sat down, a bright grin on your face and album gripped tight enough in your hands to make your knuckles turn pale, the only thing that Seonghwa could see was how bright your eyes were - but it was true. True enough that he felt his heart skip a beat. Wasn’t that supposed to happen the other way around?

“Hi,” you said as you sat down. You sounded breathless, like you’d just run up a flight of stairs, but the stars in your eyes didn’t dim and neither did your smile. “I’m Y/N, it's so nice to meet you!”

“It’s nice to meet you too Y/N,” he said, his cheeks turning warm at how winded he sounded. If you sounded like you’d run up a flight of stairs then he sounded like he’d run up two of them. He inhaled and smiled at you, surprised by how effortless it was compared to speaking. He watched you set down the album and push it forward with your fingertips, noting how your hands were trembling as you did so. “Are you nervous?”

You seemed a little surprised by the question, pressing your hands together to hide how they were shaking.

“Yes, a little,” you admitted, followed by a laugh that betrayed your words. You were more than just a little nervous. “I love your music so much, I’m so grateful to you all as a group-”

Your words began rushing together and you stopped with a flustered expression, which made Seonghwa smile.

“It’s okay,” he said, uncapping his pen and holding it in one hand. Your lips parted slightly as you collected yourself, your hands shaking even though you’d pressed them together. He made eye contact with you and his stomach filled with butterflies at the sight of all those constellations again. He held out his own hand to you. “I’m a little nervous too, it’s okay. Let’s just enjoy today.”

You gave him a soft nod, your smile growing back into a wide grin as you reached out and held his hand. Seonghwa smiled at how warm your skin was against his, the butterflies in his stomach doubling in quantity as he laced his fingers with yours.

“Is there anything in particular you want me to sign?” he asked, giving your hand a soft squeeze when he felt it shaking again. You shook your head and squeezed back, although Seonghwa couldn’t really tell if you did it subconsciously or not. It didn’t matter either way, the action was enough to have his smile widening.

“You can sign any picture of you,” you said, your voice steadier now albeit still anxious. He hummed in acknowledgment and flipped through the album the best he could with one hand. When he struggled a little you reached out and held the book open with your free hand without hesitation. Your fingers were poised carefully so as not to ruin the page you were touching and the action only made Seonghwa’s heart melt more. He wanted to reassure you that you didn’t have to worry about the pages, that they weren’t as fragile as you thought they were, but the way your eyes shined when his pen touched the page made him forget the words that had just been on the tip of his tongue.

“Thank you,” Seonghwa hummed, praying that his cheeks weren’t turning red.

“I’m the one who should say thank you,” you replied, the transition in conversation so natural that Seonghwa couldn’t help but feel impressed. “I’m so grateful to you. Your voice is gorgeous and you work so hard for your members and for your fans, every performance and event you do for us is so special, I wanted to say thank you for everything.”

It shouldn’t have really surprised Seonghwa how sincere you sounded but it did. It’s not that messages like that weren’t common from fans but they weren’t common enough for Seonghwa to not grin up at you as he set his pen aside, withdrawing his hand from the album as you did the same.

“I should be the one thanking you, for supporting us and for coming here today,” he replied. It was an almost automatic response and Seonghwa was sure it came across that way so he fished for something more genuine that wouldn’t entirely come off as creepy. He took a second to admire you as quickly as he could without wasting time, not oblivious to the way your hand squeezed his slightly as he did so. “Your outfit is really pretty by the way, you look really good.”

“Oh!” you exclaimed softly, another nervous laugh making its way past your lips. This one was a little less nervous though, bordering on a light giggle that had Seonghwa’s heart doing somersaults. “Thank you! I was inspired by one of your stage outfits.”

This time it was Seonghwa who let out a nervous laugh. He wondered briefly if he’d ever had an interaction like this at a fansign before. He felt like he was meeting his own idol rather than the other way around.

“You look better than I probably did in the outfit,” he complimented, enjoying the way your eyes creased at the corners when you grinned at him.

“No, that’s not true,” you said with a vague wave of your free hand, your occupied one briefly lifting Seonghwa’s hand off of the table as well. “You’re the inspiration for a lot of my outfits, and the motivation for lots of things as well. Whenever I feel down or sad, your voice and performances always cheer me up, I’m so grateful for everything you do!”

The words were near identical to the first ones you’d spoken but they were said with more feeling now, pushing out of your chest like a long exhale. Seonghwa held out his other hand to you and when you took it in yours without a moment of hesitation, Seonghwa felt the butterflies flutter up from his stomach into his throat, escaping through his lips before he had a chance to stop them.

“The pleasure is all mine. You’ve made my day so bright by being here and I’m sure you’ll make the coming days brighter as well,” he said, brushing his thumbs over your knuckles briefly. You blinked quickly and Seonghwa noticed your starry eyes filling with tears, his own eyes widening at the sight. “Don’t cry, I’m so sorry. Do you need tissues? Is there anything I can do?”

“No, it’s okay,” you said, sniffling quietly as two tears rolled down your cheeks, each competing to get to your jaw first. You smiled through them and Seonghwa noticed that even now your eyes were filled with stars, shining through the glassy tears gathered at your waterline. “I’m just so happy to meet you. You’re a wonderful person, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa’s heart performed another somersault (or maybe it was a triple somersault this time) and he let go of one of your hands to reach out and wipe the tears from your cheeks. When you smiled at him this time Seonghwa knew that his face had definitely turned red, if the warmth spreading across his cheeks and right up to the tips of his ears was anything to go by. He took your hand in yours again and gave both of your hands one last squeeze, laughing softly when you squeezed back, tighter this time, before you both let go of each other’s hands.

“Enjoy the rest of today, okay?” he said, picking up his pen again and flipping through the album to find the page that he’d signed. You nodded solemnly in front of him, as though you’d been given an order from a military general. He found the page with his signature and smiled, adding a heart beside it and pausing. He glanced back up at you and found that you were still blinking back your tears, even with the happiest, shimmering smile that Seonghwa had ever seen playing on your lips.

“You enjoy the day too, please rest well and take care of yourself when you can,” you said, your voice honeyed and soft. Seonghwa wished he could sit and listen to you talk for hours.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind his hand moved by itself, jotting down his phone number as quickly as he could before shutting the album and setting the pen aside. He pushed the album back across to you and you received it, your hands no longer shaking as you took it from him. There was a brief second where your fingertips touched his, just as his eyes met yours, and sure, Seonghwa liked to watch romance dramas every now and then but he definitely hadn’t believed in the whole ‘sparks when your fingers touch’ thing. Not until that moment of course.

“Thank you for coming today, take good care of yourself as well,” he said, feeling like a schoolgirl heading home after her first date. You grinned and nodded once again - that solemn nod that was cute and confusing and funny all at the same time. “I hope to see you soon.”

“Goodbye Seonghwa!” you chirped as you moved on to the next member.

Seonghwa tapped the heels of his shoes against the ground a few times, his heart pounding in his chest and his cheeks still warm from nerves. Maybe he did have a schoolgirl crush after all.

It wasn’t until a day later that Seonghwa got a text from an unknown number with a familiar profile name and a familiar profile picture. He couldn’t help the grin that lit up his face as he read the text message he’d gotten from you, detailing once again how grateful you were for your time with him and that you hoped he was taking care of himself. The words were so kind that Seonghwa kicked his legs lightly in excitement from where he was sitting on the sofa, typing away into his phone as he did so.

“Why are you doing that? Do we have the day off tomorrow?” Wooyoung asked from the other end of the sofa, grumbling to himself when Seonghwa shook his head no.

No, this was better than any day off. Astronomy had never really been his thing but Seonghwa was sure now that nothing was better than the constellations in your eyes.

☆⌒

taglist: @lovely-ateez @sunsethw4 @seonghwanotes @xirenex @choiberry @peanutpmingib @sannierio @ateezinmymind

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