hopelessly devoted was so good and it didn’t feel forced or awkward at all. you were able to effectively tell a great story and it was amazing. i would love see more🫶
wow thank you! that really means a lot 🥹❤️ i definitely plan on writing more ateez fics. i love how responsive the fandom is!
— Friends with benefits? Seems simple enough, right? Well, Yunho broke the number one rule.
word count: 5.7k
content: college au, fingering (fem receiving), drunk kissing and dry humping, angst to comfort, possessive and soft!dom energy, mostly told from yunho’s pov (he’s so down bad it’s pathetic)
“I can help relieve your stress.”
At the time, Yunho didn’t quite understand the consequences of his words. It was a desperate attempt to make you feel better, except it was masked as a casual proposal, nothing to be taken seriously. He just wanted to see you smile, laugh, or even scoff in disgust. Anything was better than seeing you crumble under the weight of your own academic fears. But the response you gave him changed everything.
It was the week of mid-terms. Everything felt uncertain during that point of the semester. The dormitories were quiet when Yunho came to visit. He decided to check in after noticing the dark circles under your eyes, though he wasn't expecting you to the answer the door on the verge of tears.
He listened to your troubles over a cup of tea, gently rubbing your back. It was all he could do. You were afraid of failing, overwhelmed by the amount of studying you had to do, the papers you needed to write, and the presentations you had to prepare. Yunho understood completely. He had a hard time balancing his own schedule. The transition from high school to university was no small feat.
He wiped your tears reassuringly. “Relax, you’re the smartest person I know. You can handle this.”
When the tears continued to fall, he tried to tell a joke, a flirty one, in hopes you’d laugh and scold him like you always did. He teasingly offered to play as your stress reliever.
It was harmless joke.
And yet, you straightened at the suggestion, your teary eyes glistening with interest.
Yunho looked at you, his heart suddenly picking up speed. To most people, he appeared sweet and carefree, but he had insecurities just like everyone else. He thought you were out of his league. Hooking up never even crossed his mind. The idea was laughable, hence why he proposed it.
He assumed your relationship with him would never venture from its platonic bubble, and he convinced himself he was okay with that.
“I just need a distraction.” you told him, tugging on the hem of his sleeve, desperate.
“Are you sure?” He asked softly.
Your voice came out even softer. “Yes.”
Yunho would never forget what happened after.
The memory stuck with him for days, safely tucked in the corners of his mind, on constant on replay. The feeling of your nails clawing down his back while he jerked his hips between your thighs, soft and unhurried, giving you time to adjust. He intertwined his body with yours, snuggly fitting together like two puzzle pieces.
You wrapped your legs around his torso, pulling him closer, gazing into his eyes. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t.” He promised.
Ever since that fateful night, whenever you needed a distraction, Yunho provided one.
If you wanted to leave your worries behind, even for just a few minutes, he’d be there to make it happen, no questions asked. It was that simple.
No strings, just comfort.
He was your shoulder to lean on, your anchor, your best friend, and occasionally, your fuck buddy.
Some days were perfectly ordinary with you two chatting about trivial things, relaxing underneath the shade, reading each other's essays, not even thinking about physical touch. Sometimes Mingi and Wooyoung would randomly join and finish their assignments as well. Afterwards, everyone would run off to karaoke, dragging you along with them. Yunho teased and poked fun at you like normal.
No one ever suspected that he frequented your dorm room, way past visiting hours, tangled in your sheets.
It was fun at first. He could flirt under the guise of “relieving stress”. No more yearning in secret or fantasizing about you at night.
At the library, his hand would rest on your thigh, firm and warm, just calming your nerves after a long study session. “Need a break?”
A seemingly innocent question, but you knew what he was hinting at, and you took the bait.
Without another word, he gently grabbed your hand and led you to a secluded corner within the building. No one was none the wiser when you came stumbling back to the table after he fingered you behind the bookshelves.
This arrangement continued for months, but as time went on, he wanted to have you in ways that weren’t appropriate for a no-strings relationship. He wanted to court you properly, take you on a real date, one that didn’t end with him tearing off your clothes. No ulterior motives, just genuine interest. A connection built on mutual feelings.
Yunho caught up to you after class one day, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “Still down to visit that new barbeque spot?”
“Oh, is that tonight?" You checked the time on your phone. "I can't, I got caught up in this blind date."
“Blind date? Why?”
You shrugged. "My friends set it up."
“Oh.” He masked his disappointment with a tight smile. What else could he say? Your friends didn’t know about your relationship with him. They thought you were single, and technically that was true.
No, not technically. It was true. You were free to date whoever you wanted.
But where did that leave him?
In the beginning, his feelings for you were nothing beyond an average crush, but now, he couldn’t spend a single day without you. You were his safe space, his comfort person, his companion— all the things he was to you.
"We can try tomorrow night." You suggested after a beat of silence.
"Yeah, of course." He cleared his throat, awkwardly removing his arm from your shoulders. "I should get going. Call if you need me."
You smiled, lashes fluttering. “You know I will.”
He almost winced.
This wasn't going how he wanted. He thought if he helped lower your stress, you’d realize how much he cared for you.
Was he being too indirect? Did he need to spell it out for you?
Exposing his feelings came with risks, but if he kept quiet, you might move on, no longer needing him.
After running it over in his head, Yunho decided to make you fall for him.
If you felt the same way, he could confess without the fear of losing you.
A few days after your blind date, he started being more affectionate, holding your hand in public, lending you his clothes, carrying your bookbag and textbooks— all the things a typical boyfriend would do. He even memorized your schedule just so he could spend more time with you. It became so natural that several students on campus assumed you two were together, and he never denied it.
Make out sessions lasted way longer than they should've. When it was time to pull away, he rushed back in for another, as if he couldn't get enough of you. One hand cradled your face with the upmost gentleness while the other rested on your lower back, effectively trapping you in his arms. He took his time, savoring your lips as if it was the last time he'd ever get to taste you.
His affection didn't stop there. Yunho treated you differently in the bedroom, too. Less quickies, more intimacy, just like the first night.
"You're so pretty." He whispered, fingering you slow and deep, keeping your back pressed against his chest.
You breathed his name, head resting on his shoulder, legs spread and eyes rolling. It was supposed to be a regular movie night, but when his arm stretched around your waist, smoothly pulling you onto his lap, the film was long forgotten. His entire body engulfed you like a warm blanket. You were the only one undressed, the only one being touched so vehemently.
Lately, there hasn’t been a need to distract you from school. You weren't stressed. In fact, these past few days you've felt better than ever. Yunho is simply choosing to shower you with attention.
He wanted to please you.
He wanted you to love him.
Yunho’s hands were quite skillful, and not because of a special technique or strategy, but the sheer size of his fingers, stretching and prodding you open just as his cock would. His other hand spent much time kneading your breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples lightly enough to send tingles down your spine.
“Look at me.”
You complied, too needy to play defiant. He met your half-lidded gaze with pride, his underwear sticky with precum. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel smug about the fucked-out expression on your face. "So pretty." He whispered again, this time more to himself than you. "I'll make you mine."
The words slipped from his mouth so naturally neither of you noticed the gravity of it. In that moment, it just sounded right.
You let your eyes fall shut as he teased your clit, rubbing the bud in small, hypnotic circles. "That's it, baby." He leaned over and kissed you lazily, like he could live in this moment forever. There was no need to rush, no need to think. It was like the no-strings commitment didn’t even exist.
As your orgasm approached, you tried to clamp your thighs shut, but he pried them open. There was nothing you could do except moan into his mouth and take it.
He hummed in approval, fingers coated with your cum. “One more time.”
“Yunho!”
For the most part, his plan seemed to be going well. When he held your hand, you squeezed it reassuringly. When he lent you his hoodie, you wore it everyday, like a second skin. Every gesture was accepted openly. No hint of discomfort or embarrassment, only appreciation.
He considered telling you his feelings, ready to free himself from this arrangement and make things official.
Little did he know, you had your own confession to make.
One lazy afternoon, as he laid in bed with you, cuddling like usual, you broke the calm silence with a whisper. “Yunho, can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, anything.”
“Are we still friends?”
He stilled. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, this.” You sat up, gesturing towards his affectionate hold around your waist. “Cuddling. Kissing. Spending every second together. It’s confusing.”
Yunho pulled away, suddenly feeling like someone dumped cold water on his head.
You wouldn't meet his eyes. “I don’t know what we are anymore. Nothing’s the same.”
His mind scrambled for the right words. “I’m just doing what you asked.”
“I know, but...” You sighed. “Just tell me, are we still friends?”
He hesitated. "What do you want us to be?”
No response, just a look of sadness.
Neither of you were willing to admit the truth.
It took considerable effort to keep himself from spiraling right then and there. “If you can’t figure it out then forget it.” He got up from the bed and grabbed his keys.
"Wait.." You tried, but the words fell flat.
Yunho decided it was time to back out. He was starting to lose himself, too consumed in your life, neglecting his own needs.
Leaving hurt more than staying, but he had no choice. Separation was the only way to detach himself.
Right before leaving your room, he forced himself to be harsh. "Don't wait up for me."
He walked away before you could say anything, before he could change his mind. Truthfully, he was embarrassed. He ruined everything by overstepping your boundaries, and now he couldn't face you without feeling regret.
For weeks, Yunho avoided you like the plague.
If he happened to cross paths with you, he kept his eyes forward, ignoring your worried gaze. He didn't answer your calls, and you eventually stopped calling. It was over as quickly as it started.
You barely put up a fight, and he tried not to let it bother him. In his pursuit to win your heart, he failed to realize how enmeshed you'd become in his life. He couldn't even go for a drive, not when memories of your smiling face lingered in the passenger seat.
Spending time with friends was helpful, but not a cure.
"You look like shit." Mingi commented as they sat in lecture.
"Really? I didn't notice." Yunho mumbled, unamused. His usual style was replaced with baggy sweats and messy bed hair. Nothing mattered anymore. He scrolled through his socials, letting the brain rot consume him.
"When's the last time you showered?" Wooyoung whispered beside him.
"He only leaves his room to piss." San chimed in from a row behind him, shamelessly snitching on his roommate.
An audible gasp came from Seonghwa and Hongjoong who sat on either side on San.
Yeosang gave a concerned side eye but decided not to say anything, his attention remaining on the professor. Jongho was the same, dutifully taking notes.
Yunho paid them no mind. They've been like this all week, urging him to properly recover from his heartbreak. Skipping showers certainly wasn't helping his case, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He opened Instagram and mindlessly tapped through random stories until he landed on yours. It was a repost of an upcoming party.
Instead of swiping, his thumb lingered.
Were you going to be there?
Mingi, oblivious to the concept of personal space, leaned over to get a good look at the screen. "Hey, I'm going to that party too."
Yunho thought for a moment, gears turning.
Mingi seemed to catch on, smirking. "You should go. Show her what she's missing out on."
Wooyoung nodded frantically. "Yeah, it'll be a good chance to clean yourself up."
"But is this really solving the problem?” Hongjoong added quietly.
Seonghwa nodded in agreement. "You should just be honest with her. No more beating around the bush.”
The plan did seem a bit childish, but Yunho couldn't deny that he wanted to see you, even if it was just from afar. Besides, he really needed to stop hibernating in his room. It was miracle he showed up to class today.
"I'll be fine." He lied.
That night, Mingi and Yunho arrived at the address. It was a worn out frat house with solo cups and soju bottles littered across the grass. There seemed to be more people out back near the pool, but Mingi stayed near the entrance, effortlessly blending in with the crowd while greeting people. Yunho mirrored his actions, pretending to be interested in small talk.
He did his best to appear laidback, wearing all black clothing and a few pieces of jewelry. His hair was slightly curled upward at the ends—which he spent twenty minutes perfecting— and his under eyes were dusted with a pale blush.
As he navigated through the crowd, searching for any signs of your presence, he felt a bit anxious. Just catching a glimpse of your face would send him into panic. He hadn't fully planned out what he'd do when he found you, if he found you. Everywhere he looked, people were drunkenly making out, smoking vapes, or chugging beer like water. No one looked the least amount of sober.
Just then, Mingi magically appeared with two shots. "Here, relax. I'm sure she's around here somewhere."
Yunho eyed him suspiciously. "Aren't you supposed to be driving us back."
He shrugged. "We can just call Hongjoong."
The two friends exchanged a knowing look before grinning. Yunho accepted the drink, tossing it back in one gulp.
It burned, but he ignored it, falling in rhythm with the music.
Many women approached, and he let them, their hands traveling up his chest and wrapping around his neck in a possessive hold. He kept pretending, kept ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. Every time he found himself in a flirty conversation, his eyes would scan the room, hoping that you were somewhere watching.
But drink after drink, dance after dance, there was still no sign of you.
He tried exploring the house, eventually making his way to the pool.
While the other students goofed around and jumped in the water, Yunho lingered near the wall, solo cup in hand, eyes searching. It was difficult to stay focused when people were inviting him to swim every five seconds. He declined their offers, not even bothering to be polite. The longer he stayed at this party, the more restless he became.
For all he knew, you might've left already.
Or maybe you never showed up in the first place.
Yunho sighed, his resolve slipping by the minute. If you weren't here, then what was the point of all this? He poured himself another drink, letting the alcohol dull his senses. Getting over you seemed impossible.
Seonghwa's advice started to ring in his ears. "...just be honest with her."
He contemplated the idea. Sending a text wouldn't hurt, right?
Before he could pull out his phone, Mingi came rushing out of nowhere. "I found her, but she's..." He trailed off, unsure how to break the news. He looked in the opposite direction, and Yunho followed his line of sight, heart racing.
In the pool, hidden among a group of people, you were talking to a guy he didn't recognize, likely some frat boy who helped organize the party. Yunho quickly took notice of the thin bikini top you wore, his jaw tightening. He watched as you threw your head back in laughter, clearly having a good time as the boy splashed you with water.
You playfully started to back away, but his arm encircled your waist, pulling you so close that you were chest to chest. He whispered something in your ear, and you laughed again.
Yunho moved without thinking.
Effortlessly, he pushed through the mass of drunk students blocking his path, anger following his every step. Mingi called after him, but he kept walking.
No one noticed his presence by the edge of the pool until he spoke over the booming music. "Get your hands off of her."
You jumped at the sound of his voice, your flirty smile disappearing within an instant. "Yunho? What are you doing here?" This wasn't his typical environment, and you knew it.
The frat boy looked a little surprised but didn’t move away. "You know this guy?”
Yunho’s eyes were so cold and cutthroat he seemed like a different person entirely, but you nodded anyway. “Yeah, he’s my friend.”
“So, not your boyfriend.” The boy clarified.
Yunho stepped an inch closer, threatening. “I said stop touching her.”
Spending time apart hadn’t diminished his feelings at all, it only made them fester into something ugly, something dangerous.
People were starting to look and whisper.
You took that as a sign to get out of the pool, quickly finding a nearby towel to wrap yourself with. "Come on Yunho, lets go somewhere else."
You grabbed his arm and pulled him in the opposite direction, though it wasn't easy. You were tipsy, and he was unrelenting, never breaking eye contact with the guy.
After a bit of stumbling, you took him through the crowd and upstairs into an empty bedroom. The smell of sex and booze clung to the air, but neither of you noticed, too distracted by the commotion. You figured a bit of privacy would calm things down, but as soon as the door closed, he snatched his arm away from your grasp, stepping away from you.
"Are you sleeping with him?"
"What?"
"You heard me." He snapped. “I saw everything.”
“I just met him tonight!” You said defensively.
“Then why was he all over you?" He gestured towards the loose towel around your body. "And where are your clothes!?”
You started to explain yourself, but stopped, suddenly realizing the irony. “Why do you even care? You’re the one who ended things between us."
“Answer the question.”
“No.”
As Yunho stood across from you, burning with jealousy, he felt the creeping fear of rejection consuming him again. It’s true that he ended things first, but he’s been miserable ever since, and here you were, partying like nothing ever happened. This entire situation felt like a cruel joke.
He scoffed, irritated. “Fine. You don’t have to say anything. It’s obvious you’re looking for a new distraction.”
“Yeah, so what?” You spoke unabashedly, the alcohol making words fly out of your mouth with ease.
His eyes wavered, but only for a moment. In quick strides, he closed the distance, leaning forward to meet your stare. “You think he can replace me?”
If you were unnerved by his sudden closeness, you surely didn’t let it show. “Should I go find out?”
“Don’t.” He warned.
The intense stare down kept you pinned in place.
“You can’t tell me what to—” You started to say but his lips interrupted.
It was a fiery kiss, the kind you felt all over. In your chest, your stomach, your legs— every part of your body turned hot with frustration. Yunho pressed you against the wall, causing your towel to drop.
It’s been so long, too long, since he last touched you. He missed you dearly, and it was evident in the way he grew hard against your stomach. You moaned at the press of his body, your fingers grabbing the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer.
Downstairs, the party continued, and the walls thumped from the heavy bass speakers. Yunho lifted you up by the thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Is this what you want? Hm?" He asked in between kisses, grinding against you. “Want' to be touched like this?”
“Yes, please.” You begged, low and sultry, just the way he liked.
“Please?” He mocked, his large hand finding its way to your throat, squeezing just enough to make your back arch off the wall. "Thought you didn’t need me anymore.” The image of you splashing around in the pool with another guy was still too fresh in his mind. “What changed your mind?” He continued to roll his hips in hard, languid strokes.
You bit back a moan. Angry Yunho was always a treat. Punishments felt more like rewards when he was the one administering them. No matter how much trouble you caused him, he couldn’t stay mad for long. He wanted you just as badly, if not more.
It wasn’t much of a hassle to access your body, given that you were already half naked. Yunho merely untied the straps of your bikini, freeing your breast in one harsh tug. You braced for the cold air, but Yunho’s mouth was far quicker, eager to cover the supple skin with his tongue. He didn’t bother masking the lewd, sucking sounds, in fact, he purposely brought them on. As you timidly glanced below your chin, your heart jumped when you realized he was already peering at you, his face dusted a pretty pink while licking your nipples.
Holding your gaze, Yunho trailed a line of kisses up your chest and to your collarbone. He kept alternating between body worship and manhandling, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to be gentle or controlling.
Once again, his hand slid around your neck, caressing one side with his thumb. “Tell me, were you going to fuck him?” His voice was calm, though there was an underlying edge to it.
“No.” You answered honestly.
“Did you want to fuck him?” He asked, leisurely pressing his bulge against your clothed cunt.
“No, I promise.”
That seemed to please him, but not entirely. He made no attempt to remove the lower half of your bikini, intent on keeping the fabric as a barrier to his cock. When you tried reaching down to unzip his pants, he pinned your hand against the wall, glaring. “You don’t get to be impatient. Not after what you did tonight.”
“It didn’t mean anything.” You whined.
If he weren’t so on edge, he might’ve laughed. All night, he tediously flirted with random women in hopes of getting a reaction out of you, but in the end, he was the one who caused a scene. And now you’re telling him none of it meant anything. He should’ve felt relief, but the tension in his shoulders remained. "Why should I believe you?"
Your lips parted in a faint whimper. “Because, I only want you, Yunho.”
He froze. Such intimate phrases were uncommon from you, but as the shock subsided and your words settled in, Yunho felt a strange tightness in his chest. This moment didn’t feel as good as he thought it would. He often imagined you saying those words in the privacy of his bedroom as he made love to you, not at some shitty frat party while he drunkenly rutted against you like a feral animal.
These past few weeks haven’t been easy on him. He spent countless nights recalling the sound of your laughter and thinking of your smile. While it felt great to hold you in his arms again, what would happen afterwards? Would this cycle continue? Would he be stuck in a no-strings relationship forever?
Yunho always gave into you, even if that meant setting himself up for a heartbreak.
And that was his problem.
“Fuck.” He closed his eyed tightly, as if he couldn’t bare to look at you. “I can’t do this.”
You blinked, suddenly caught off guard. “What?”
Slowly, he settled you back onto your feet, and you hurriedly tied your top back on, fingers fumbling with embarrassment. “Yunho, what’s wrong?”
He turned away to adjust his clothes, fighting his own humiliation. He was still noticeably hard.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want you physically, no, he was just trying to protect his heart. If he went down this road again, nothing would change.
“This was a mistake.” He said breathlessly.
Although he couldn’t see the look on your face, he knew it wasn’t a happy one. Even so, he needed to be blunt. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I acted impulsively.”
There was a stretch of silence, save for the loud party chants and cheering downstairs. More students were piling in as the night progressed, undoubtedly bringing more alcohol and games. Yunho wanted nothing more than to escape this hell hole and crawl underneath his covers back home, but when he realized you weren’t going to say anything, he stole a glance over his shoulder.
Much to his surprise, you looked vulnerable, standing there in nothing but a flimsy swimsuit, chest rising and falling unsteadily.
As he fully turned to face you, he wondered if he looked just as helpless, his makeup smeared, hair disheveled, and eyes incredibly soft.
He started to apologize but you spoke first.
“Why did you call things off?"
Yunho didn’t respond immediately. Maybe he was losing it, but he swore he heard a quiver in your voice. You shifted on your feet, likely feeling awkward, or perhaps the alcohol was finally settling in, impairing your balance. Probably both.
“I thought that was what you wanted."
You shook your head. “No. I never said that."
"Then why'd you let me walk away?"
"I tried to reach out but you ignored my calls." You said, voice raising. "You wouldn't even look at me!"
"How could I? You basically rejected me." He replied, matching your tone.
Instantly, things were getting heated again. It was hard to have a civil conversation while half drunk. Emotions were amplified and uninhibited.
With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair, ready to end this ridiculous fight. "Do you really not feel anything for me? Anything at all?” He asked, dejected and clearly at his wits end. “I can’t keep doing this. I love you too much.”
And there it was. The final nail in the coffin.
Yunho’s fear of rejection ultimately backed him into a corner. He’s never lost his composure like this, at least not in front of you. Since the day you met him, his voice always had a playful ring to it, and his eyes were amazingly bright, hopeful.
But now he looked utterly drained.
“Yunho.” You reached out to comfort him but lost your footing, world spinning.
He quickly held you steady. “Hey, hey, slow down. How much did you drink?”
When you responded with nonsensical mumbling, he sighed to himself.
Yunho liked to think of himself as a fairly patient guy, but you were really putting him to the test.
The journey to your dorm wasn’t an easy one. He wound up calling an Uber, too exhausted to explain everything to Hongjoong and sit through his scolding. Somehow, Mingi found the dress and heels you wore to the party and handed them to Yunho, who carefully helped you get dressed. He then carried you outside to the car, settled you in, and buckled your seatbelt. Mingi stayed behind, mentioning something about wanting to have more fun.
The dormitories were just a few blocks away. He planned to take you to your room and leave, but when he made it to your door, you dragged him inside, whining about not wanting to be alone.
Once again, he was taking care of you, putting your needs first.
He gently sat you on the bed before crouching to unstrap your heels. You giggled at the feeling of his fingers skimming your feet. He fought to keep his face neutral. Your laughter was contagious.
So much time has passed but you were still the same person he’d grown to love.
He fished through your wardrobe, looking for something to replace your skin-tight dress. The first thing he noticed was his favorite t-shirt, neatly folded among a mess of clothes. After he called things off, you stopped wearing it.
He thought you'd forgotten about it, but it still carried his scent, like you intentionally persevered any traces of him.
For some reason, he grabbed the shirt, his heart heavy. “Here.” He tossed it on your lap. "You should change and get some rest."
"You're leaving?"
"Yeah. Just forget about what happened tonight."
Normally, he’d stay over to make sure you wouldn't puke on yourself, but during the car ride home, you were able to sober up a bit thanks to the rush of fresh air blasting through the open windows.
“Wait." You tried reaching for the zipper attached to the back of your dress. "I need help."
He exhaled from his nose.
Without a word, Yunho slowly pulled the zipper down, careful not to touch your skin. Your bodies were only a few inches apart, and yet he still felt the distance, the subtle awkwardness that touched every corner of the room. As many times as he undressed you, it never felt tense like this.
"You’re quiet." You said, filling the silence.
“I know.” He mumbled. Frankly, he’s said more than enough tonight. His confession from earlier was still taunting him. He didn’t regret what he said, rather, it was how everything went down. The scene at the pool, the heated argument, the abrupt kiss—god, he behaved like an idiot.
Shaking his thoughts away, he tugged the zipper low enough to loosen your dress.
“Thanks.” You peeled it off, sighing in relief.
He quickly turned to leave, but you stopped him again. “Wait, the shirt! I need help-!"
"Put it on yourself!”
"I can't!"
Yunho huffed before snatching the shirt from your hands. He pulled the fabric over your head and lifted your arms into their respective sleeves. Once you were covered, he moved away, ready to glower at you, but he paused.
You sat on the edge of the bed, gazing at him under your lashes, totally unaware of the effect you had on him. Just as he feared, you were tempting him with your pouty lips and pretty eyes, wearing nothing but his oversized shirt.
Heat rushed to his face and neck before he could turn away.
Shit. Was he seriously blushing right now?
Flustered, he cleared his throat. “Do you need anything else? Water? Medicine?”
You patted an empty space on the bed. “Stay for a while.”
"I shouldn't."
Honestly, to be here in the center of so many memories was too much. The sensible thing to do was return home and sleep off this disaster of a night.
"Please?" You asked. "Just until I fall asleep."
After a long moment, he finally plopped down beside you. “Fine, but then I’m leaving.”
“Fair enough.”
A brief silence settled between you two, less tense, but present nonetheless. Yunho bashfully rubbed his neck and you fiddled with your thumbs.
“I’m sorry-"
"Sorry-"
He looked at you, surprised, and you mirrored his expression.
Then, you both laughed.
"I'll go first." He offered. "I shouldn't have lashed out at you. I was jealous."
“No, it's okay. I didn't like that guy anyway." You admitted, eyes downcast. "I should have noticed how you felt sooner. I was trying to fill the void after you stopped talking to me."
“Fill the void?”
Now it was your turn to feel bashful. “It’s been pretty lonely without you. Back then, I thought you were just going along with everything. I didn't think you actually liked me.”
He let you continue, waiting on bated breath.
“Look, if you really want to cut ties with me then I understand, but I want us to start over.”
Yunho processed your words, running them over in his head. “Start over? Like date?”
You nodded.
He covered his mouth with one hand, partly because he was in disbelief, but also, he needed to control the burst of emotions that were surfacing all at once. His feelings for you hadn't changed. They were only pushed aside, abandoned like they didn't exist.
Your confession sounded more than sincere, but after everything that has happened tonight, he needed to be certain. Both of you were still inebriated after all.
He calmly took your hand. “Are you sure?”
"Yes." You chuckled.
“If you still feel like this tomorrow—”
“I will.”
He held back a laugh. “Okay, then we’ll start from there and sort all of this out, yeah?"
You nodded, smiling softly. “Yeah.”
For the first time tonight, he felt content. "Come here."
You tackled him with a bear hug, knocking him back onto the bed. He matched your enthusiasm, clutching your body in his arms, laughing into your hair.
"Does this mean I can kiss you whenever I want now?"
"Weren't you already doing that?"
He grinned one last time before meeting your lips in a sweet kiss.
i had fun with this one. feedback is appreciated <3
— Seongje doesn’t want you to go on a date with your ex-boyfriend, so he persuades you to stay home.
word count: 3k
content: fem!receiving, risk of getting caught, heated argument, man handling, soft dom energy
♡˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹♡ ˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹ ♡˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹♡
As the saying goes, ignorance is bliss.
To keep ourselves happy, we often turn a blind eye to the truth, purposely avoiding reality in favor of a fantasy.
Seongje, your closest friend, saw right through your delusions, and he never missed an opportunity to pull you out of them.
“Going on another shitty date?”
The trace of laughter in his voice didn’t go unnoticed as he casually leaned against your bedroom door. Most would be offended by his teasing, but you’ve grown used to it. You didn't even spare him a glance, too busy fiddling with your appearance. “Remind me why you’re here again?”
He grinned. “Can you at least pretend like you missed me? It's been a while."
"I knew you'd be back eventually."
Seongje had a habit of going missing for weeks, sometimes months, without a word in advance. It got so frequent that you could predict—pretty accurately—when he was about to disappear. He’d start acting strangely, smoking more often, ignoring your texts, and declining to hang out. His avoidance typically surfaced whenever you got into a relationship or developed a silly crush.
When he finally stopped being distant, he would drop by your apartment unannounced, eager to meddle in your business after being away for so long. Tonight was no different. He wasn't the least bit surprised to catch you getting ready for a night out.
Seongje looked at your dress from behind. It was short enough to catch a glimpse of your panties, and he shamelessly eyed the lacy fabric. “Who are you going out with this time?"
You paused, as if choosing your words carefully. “Just some guy I've been talking to recently.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Ah, really?”
“Yeah.”
After your clipped response, the conversation turned quiet. You seemed overly interested in styling your hair all of a sudden. Seongje stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets, assessing your stiff behavior. “Where is he taking you?”
Another pause, this time reluctant to speak. “A nightclub.”
“What kind of dumbass plans the first date at a club?”
“This isn't our first date."
Seongje cocked his head, confused.
Realizing he wasn’t going to let up, you turned to face him, arms crossed. “Don’t you have some kind of union business to take care of? What’s with the fifty questions?”
He merely chuckled at your irritation. “You know it’s not nice to hide things from your friends.”
“You only pull out the friendship card when it’s convenient for you.”
“So, you are hiding something.”
The two of you stared at each other, stubborn and unrelenting. Though while he looked amused, you looked guilty.
After several seconds, you caved in. “It’s my ex.”
Instantly, the humor in his face dropped.
"Look, before you start, we talked for hours last night, and I think he's finally going to change." You started to ramble. "And, the whole club thing, he probably just wants to make things less awkward, you know? It’s not a big deal.”
Seongje gave you a deadpan stare, letting his silence speak for itself. It was obvious you were trying to convince yourself of these lies, not him.
"We talked everything out. It’ll be better this time.”
You waited, half expecting him to say something rude, but he just shook his head and laughed dryly. "Do you seriously believe that?"
You huffed in annoyance, turning back to the mirror. "Whatever. You wouldn't know anything about dating, anyway."
He scoffed. Your ability to pivot from his very straightforward question was impressive to say the least, especially when you took a jab at his own dating life, which was practically non-existent.
Flings and one-night stands were more his speed. Given his ruthless reputation, there aren’t many people who would willingly get close to him. You were the only person who treated him like an average guy, even when he revealed his sadistic side, showing up at your doorstep with blood on his clothes.
Seongje watched as you applied another layer of lip gloss, lost in your own world. He didn't understand what you saw in him, and he certainly didn't understand what you saw in your previous partners. As many times as he tried to warn you about being strung along, you refused to acknowledge it.
At one point, he stopped caring, tired of repeating the obvious, but when he caught you crying after a nasty break-up, he realized two things: 1) He didn’t want you dating anyone else, and 2) He liked you. A lot.
If you hadn’t begged him not to hurt your ex, he might’ve killed the guy.
Thinking back on it now, getting involved would've exposed his feelings— feelings he didn't want to face yet.
Noticing his sour mood, you tried changing the subject. “Since you’re back from hiding, we should plan a night out, just you and me.”
“I’m only free tonight.” He said flatly, not even trying to make it believable.
“Okay, fine, I’ll be back before midnight.”
“I’m not waiting here while you dance around with that idiot.”
“Don’t call him that.” You mumbled, suppressing your irritation.
"Stop dating idiots, then." He retorted.
Ever since Seongje arrived, it seemed you both were on edge, holding back for the other, trying to prevent the inevitable.
Seongje wouldn't move from his position by the doorway, afraid he'd do something reckless.
You wouldn't meet his eyes, afraid he'd see right through you.
Neither of you realized how pointless it all was.
Still, you tried to keep your voice calm. "Why do you act like that?"
Already, he was laughing, sensing where this was going. "Like what?"
"Like I can't make my own decisions." You replied. "I can't date anyone without you throwing a tantrum."
"I don't throw tantrums." He said, completely disregarding your first statement.
"Yes, you do! It's like you're jealous or something."
Jealous.
It didn't fully hit him until you said it out loud.
Seeing you get dolled up for the same guy who mistreated you drove him crazy. Pretending was the easy part. Watching and enduring, that’s when it got difficult. The thought of your ex being all over you at the club, feeding you more lies, getting you drunk, touching you—
Seongje's feet were moving before he could stop them. In quick, effortless strides, he stood behind you in the mirror, fed up. You met his gaze in the reflection, slightly startled by his change in demeanour.
"Seongje?"
His large hands settled on your hips before spinning you around, forcing you to face him directly. Lingering touches weren’t unusual with Seongje, though sometimes, he would cross that line between platonic and romantic love, testing the waters, gauging your reaction. Like now, as he moved in closely, luring you in with his confident stare. "So what if I am jealous?”
You looked at him in surprise, not because of his proximity, but the seriousness of his tone. There wasn't a flirty smile or lazy grin that accompanied his words. This wasn't a joke.
His lips ghosted over your own, tempting you, daring you.
Before you could do anything, your phone buzzed on the dresser, revealing a single text message.
Pulling up.
You took the brief interruption as an opportunity to move away, desperately needing a moment to calm your hammering heart.
Unless your mind was playing tricks on you, Seongje had been seconds away from kissing you.
And you wanted to kiss him back.
No longer in his hold, you collected your thoughts, breathing slowly. "We shouldn't..." You trailed off. "Not right now."
Seongje said nothing, but the mood shifted. You’ve known him long enough to recognize when he’s pissed.
He pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
You frowned at him. “Don’t, Seongje, you know I hate it when you smoke in here.”
Again, he said nothing, sparking his lighter.
The anger he showed you differed from what others saw. With you, he restrained himself, or at least tried to.
You sighed. “Just say what you’re thinking.”
“Why bother?" He took a puff from his cigarette, purposely blowing the smoke in your direction. "You don't listen anyway.”
“Okay, fine—”
“He’s just treating you like a fuck toy, and you’re making it easy.”
You winced at his harshness. Seongje wasn’t the most comforting person in the world, but as your friend, it wouldn’t kill him to show a bit of compassion for once. “You know what, never mind. I’m not in the mood.”
He laughed in disbelief. “You think I’m always in the mood to listen to you whine about a different guy every month?”
You glared at him. "Fuck off." You spat angrily, storming into the living room, ready to leave.
Constructive criticism was one thing, but being blatantly rude was another.
Seongje heard the dejection in your voice, but he wasn’t going to fall for your teary eyes this time. “Running away already?”
Taking one last drag from his cigarette, he burned it out on the dresser before following behind you, deliberately pushing your buttons further. “What’d he say to win you over this time? Was it another empty promise?”
You ignored him, keeping your pace towards the front door. Arguing with Seongje was like arguing with a wall. When he gets upset like this, there’s nothing you could say to get through to him.
Seongje grabbed hold of your wrist, pulling you backwards. Your heels clicked against the floor as you stumbled right into his chest. He couldn’t mask his frustration any longer.
He wouldn't stand by and watch you go through another heartbreak.
“Answer me. Was it just another half-assed apology? Or could he even be bothered to do that?”
You attempted to snatch your arm away, fuming at his pestering. “Why does it matter!?”
Within seconds, you found yourself pressed against the wall, completely blocked from the exit. “Because he should be on his knees, begging for forgiveness." He leaned in, trailing his eyes down the length of your short dress. "Giving you a proper apology."
You froze, ceasing your fight against his strong grip. The sudden drop in his tone left no room for misunderstandings. In the past, Seongje barely batted an eye when you moved through different partners, each one worse than the last. Seeing him behave this way was baffling.
Just then, the familiar roar of your ex-boyfriend’s car sounded off in the driveway. You looked in the direction of the door, but Seongje remained unfazed. He was frighteningly calm. No one could ever make him feel threatened.
He continued to speak as if no one had even arrived. “If I were in his position, I’d make it up to you.” His lips touched your ear. “All. Fucking. Night.”
Hearing him emphasize each word made your knees buckle. Nothing could've prepared you for the suffocating tension that settled in the room. Seongje had no intentions of letting you leave, and oddly enough, you had no intentions of pushing him away either.
Perhaps, the very thought of your ex waiting in the car while Seongje pressed you against the wall was…exciting.
You pushed your thoughts away, visibly shaking your head. “You’re my best friend.”
“So what?” He dismissed your doubts, impatient. He tilted your chin upward, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb. “Friends help each other, right?”
Swayed by the heat of his touch, you stole a timid glance at his lips. Sharing a kiss would surely be crossing the line, but you couldn’t find the will to reject his advances. Up until now, you never questioned why he was so persistent in mending your broken heart. After every failed relationship, Seongje was there to pick up the pieces, putting you back together again.
He knew you better than anyone, and despite his complaining, he offered a listening ear when no one else would.
Did he really have feelings for you?
Warmth blossomed in your lower stomach, and the former tension that clung to the air began to fade. Your eyes fluttered shut as Seongje leaned forward to meet your lips. Much to your surprise, his kiss felt hurried and desperate, like he was trying to prove a point. It took a while for you to fall in sync with his pace, but even then, you were no match for his hunger. Traces of your lip gloss were smeared across his mouth and chin, a clear indication of how messy he was being.
He cradled the back of your head, tugging your hair back, exposing your neck.
“Wait, what about—” You started to say, but he was already on your skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses over your jaw and throat.
In the bedroom, your phone began to buzz on the dresser, likely a call from your ex. You forgot to grab it during your fight with Seongje, not that it mattered anymore. He met your lips once again, this time heavier, purposely distracting you from thinking about anything but him.
You pressed your hands against his chest, trying to capture his attention. "Seongje."
He pulled away, eyes clouded over.
While you were trying to catch your breath, he remained composed, as if he didn't just spend the last two minutes kissing you senseless. For some reason, you couldn't find the right words to say, not when he was looking at you like that— like he was too far gone.
Wordlessly, he pulled his glasses off, tucking them into his pocket.
There was no going back.
Seongje lowered himself to his knees, swiftly lifting your leg over his shoulder. The sheer intimacy of this position made your heart race uncontrollably. You imagined him as the type to take you from behind, dominating you in every sense, and yet here he was, catering to you.
He savored your anxious expression one last time before sliding your dress high enough to expose your panties. Any lingering doubts were left behind as you were caught up in the surrounding heat of his body, unable to think straight. The only thing you could focus on was the soft strands of his hair tickling your thigh.
You jolted at the pressure of his mouth latching onto your panties. In one long motion, he licked your clothed cunt, making you whimper. The thin fabric did nothing to shield you from his tongue.
Instinctively, your hips jerked, asking for more. Seongje brought his hands to your waist, keeping you upright with a piercing grip. You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling ever so slightly.
Your phone started ringing again, but you were too busy grinding against Seongje's mouth to notice.
It wasn't until you heard the sudden blare of a car horn that you remembered where you were.
You started to panic, but Seongje held you tighter. "Don't run."
He wasn’t the least bit concerned about the noise. You were at his mercy the minute he cushioned himself between your thighs. Sooner or later, your ex would come knocking on the door, and he couldn't care less. If he wasn't so consumed with lust, he'd go out there and wreck that bastard's car. Really, he was being nice.
You bit your lower lip. It was absolutely maddening how he purposely dragged things on. “Hurry.”
“Why? Do you have somewhere to be?”
When you didn't respond, he laughed. The grin he wore was unsettling.
Luckily for you, Seongje wasn't capable of taking things slow, not when you were throbbing so close to his face. Countless nights he lost sleep, wanting you, needing you, but he was stuck playing as your best friend.
He hated being your friend.
There was no time to brace yourself as Seongje yanked your panties to the side. His tongue slipped inside of you, evading the tight space with little difficulty. Your whimpers quickly turned into full moans as his nose grazed your clit. He kept his eyes on you, unblinking.
Seongje explored your pussy as if it rightfully belonged to him, dragging and swirling his tongue around every inch of you. Hearing your cries only encouraged him to take you higher. He hadn't pulled away for air once. Instead, he pressed himself deeper, utterly consuming you.
“Slow down.” You whined, completely contradicting your plea for him to hurry.
Seongje hummed lazily, undeterred by your pleas.
With a single demonstration, he was making up for all the times you’ve been wronged in the past. He hated to see you suffer at the hands of people who never intended to reciprocate your love.
As the pleasure intensified, you found yourself pulling him closer, bucking your hips to the rhythm of his tongue. He moaned, delighted at your courage.
Outside, the sound of footsteps walking up the pavement reached your ears.
“Shit.” You breathed, your head dizzy.
Seongje pinned your body to the wall. His half-lidded gaze was piercing. “Keep still.”
You complied.
There was banging against the door. “Hey, you in there!?”
Seongje abruptly pulled away from your thighs. The lower half of his face was glistening— even the tip of his nose was damp. Pure amusement danced in his eyes. “Looks like we have a guest.”
His middle and index finger teased your cunt before plunging inside. “I wonder who it could be."
His sarcastic comments fell on deaf ears. You couldn't bring yourself to care about what he was saying, not when he was fingering you so roughly.
“Shouldn’t you answer that?” Seongje tilted his head, feigning innocence.
If you weren’t so on edge, you might’ve had an equally sarcastic response, but you said nothing, fighting to keep quiet. Seongje increased his pace, reaching deeper each time he pushed his fingers upward. His lips surrounded your clit, sucking relentlessly. It was a miracle you hadn’t given yourself away yet.
The banging at the door persisted. It was too late to pretend you weren’t home. The lights were on, casting a glow behind your blinds.
“We have to do something.” You panted.
Seongje continued to play with your clit. There was no use in talking to him. As far as he was concerned, your ex was just random background noise. If someone walked in right now, he wouldn’t bat an eye.
You could only cover your mouth to muffle your moans.
Just when you thought your ex would try to barge in, he only muttered "Fuck it" before walking off.
Relief calmed your nerves, but not for long. Seongje wasted no time slipping his tongue inside you once more. The familiar coil of your orgasm was beginning to fester. You had no control over yourself, merely a puppet to the strings of pleasure.
You could faintly hear Seongje speaking against your pussy, something along the lines of “…that’s it,” and “…good girl.”
Whatever it was, the vibration sent you over the edge. Words failed to leave your mouth as you almost folded over. If it wasn’t for Seongje's firm hold, you would’ve lost balance as your body prepared for its approaching orgasm.
You clutched his hair, eyes rolling, and back arching.
Then, Seongje detached himself from you.
When you looked down at him, chest heaving from the intensity, he smirked.
“Aw, don’t make that face.” His shoulders shook in silent laughter. “You thought I’d let you cum after you tried to leave me? Huh?”
You stared at him, stunned. You started to say something, but the words died in your throat.
“Don’t be mistaken, princess, you’re being punished.”
He removed himself from your thighs and stood to his full height. You immediately caught sight of the large tent in his pants and swallowed.
The man in front of you didn’t look like your best friend anymore. He was much more than that.
Seongje noticed the change in your eyes. It resembled the way he often looked at you— with undeniable attraction. Whether it be lust or love, it didn’t matter, as long as you desired him.
Within that brief second of eye contact, he was ready to ruin you all over again.
He kissed you, raw and uninhibited, like he couldn't get enough of you. "Turn around."
Using your last bit of energy, you obeyed, laying your palms flat on the wall. You felt your body bend as he pulled your waist to his crotch, rubbing his bulge against your ass.
Seongje felt a rush of excitement pulse through his veins. "Finally, you're mine."
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