summer's end (j.yh)
summary: sequel to summer nights -- he’s your best friend and roommate, and the lines are starting to get pretty blurry between casual sex and emotions.
note: 18+ content, minors DNI. // i genuinely could not get the idea of these idiots being super in love and never talking about it and just being generally dumb about it, the rest is just self indulgent boyfy yunho. please enjoy x
warnings: best friend!yunho, fem!reader, and they were roommates, oral (f receiving), fingering, cockwarming (kind of?), rough sex, impact play, marking/bruising, emotional sex, angsty sex, dirty talk/use of pet names, praise, dacryphilia if you squint, classic big dick yunho, idiots miscommunicating and arguing, also super fluffy emotional soft smut - it's really a mixed bag here. please let me know if I missed any.
pairings: yunho x reader
genre: college non idol au; seriously shameless smut, angst, hurt/comfort vibes, fluff
word count: 7.7K
my masterlist || read on AO3
It starts off with a bet, again. It was a challenge to each other nose to nose in the kitchen, several drinks deep with the last heat wave of summer bearing down and keeping you both distracted and wearing next to nothing. When you found out he was counting the number of times he’s successfully made you come since your first experiment two months prior, you decided he was being just a little too full of himself and you needed to make things interesting. What you didn’t anticipate is where you’d be now, and how hard it would be to win said bet.
Yunho is relaxed against the headboard, sitting fully up at an almost ninety-degree angle. You’re straddling him, legs wrapped around his waist and locked behind him, his cock buried inside you, stiff and warm. He tenses his abdominal muscles, making his cock twitch inside you and you bite your inner cheek to keep from making a sound. His expression is smug, playful and cocky, the tip of his tongue pressing into his cheek. He squeezes your hips with his large hands, his thumbs caressing the crease at the top of your thighs.
“I can do this all day,” he smiles, and tenses again.
You shift your hips the smallest amount and sigh a low exhale through your nose, “So can I,”
“Mhm,” he nods, “sure you can.”
“I don’t know,” you take the opportunity to pull his t-shirt that you had been wearing over your head and toss it aside. His eyes flick down to your now bare breasts, nipples pebbled and hard, and you watch him swallow and blink before looking back up to meet your eyes. You stretch above him, running your hands through your hair and pushing it back over your shoulders, moving your hands down your chest to cup your own breasts and give them a subtle squeeze.
“Tease,” he shakes his head.
“That’s kind of the point,” you nudge him in the ribs.
“Mm,” he’s barely listening, he slides one hand over your stomach to splay his fingers wide, carefully flexing them and noting how from thumb to pinky finger he covers the full expanse of you. He pushes you with his hand a little, silently communicating that he wants you to lean away from him and you do, reaching back with one hand to brace on his thigh.
He runs his hand up from your stomach to your chest, passing down again slowly over your sternum, fingertips tracing your curves until he’s low and brushing over your pubic bone.
“Let’s make it more interesting,” he says while he touches you softly, “instead of first to move loses, how about first to come?”
Your eyes widen at his suggestion, “You’ll lose though,”
“Wow,” he rolls his eyes, “that’s overconfident of you,”
“You’re so easy though!” you exclaim, “I’m always the one that needs some warming up,”
“I’m pretty sure I can hold out,” he smirks again, “plus, you forget I can feel how wet you are. You’re warmed up.”
“What do I get if I win?” You divert him, pushing off his leg to come back to a normal sitting position before leaning closer to him and resting your arms around his neck.
“Movie night, all your choices,” he offers.
“And if you win?”
“You finally let me teach you how to play Valorant,” he insists, “and you have to actually give it a try, not just watch me replay it.”
“How many movies?” You clarify.
“Three,” he offers.
You grin, “Deal,”
“First to come loses then,” he quirks an eyebrow, shifting to hold out a hand for you to shake.
You laugh, rolling your eyes again, but you accept his hand, giving it one firm shake and putting on your most serious expression.
Once you return the hand to his chest, he sighs, “Finally, now come here,” he tugs your arms and brings you closer, capturing your mouth. His arms wind around you, one around your back and the other slipping down low over your hip and under your ass to hold you firm. He bucks his hips, thrusting his cock deeper into you and groans against your mouth.
“I knew it,” you murmur between kisses.
He shuts you up with a harder kiss, hungry, his hands roaming over your skin and pressing on every little spot he’s learned you love.
“Come here,” he breaks away, pushing you backwards again and dipping his hand down again to massage your clit in tender circles with the rough pad of his thumb.
A coil of pleasure wraps tighter inside you, and you sigh, “That’s good,” you tell him, “but you know I never come like that,”
“Wrong,” he shakes his head, pressing a little more firmly with his thumb.
The added pressure makes you moan, soft and breathy, “What do you mean, wrong?” For all the times you’ve had sex, you rarely come from fingering alone.
“I’ve figured it out,” he smiles, holding your gaze, “you come the easiest when I’m inside you, all you need is me to stuff you full and then it’s like clockwork.”
You sputter at his words, the crass frankness doing nothing but adding to the growing needy sensation inside you. When you don’t respond and he realizes you’re flustered, he grins, “You haven’t noticed?”
“Noticed what?” You clench your muscles down on his cock and his eyes slip closed for just a moment as he relishes the sensation.
“All you needed,” he says, pushing off the headboard and gathering you in his arms, shifting so that he’s cross legged under you and sinking his cock as far as it will go inside you, “was something my size to get you just right.”
You rock your hips, dragging him in and out softly, “Yunho, you’re incredibly full of yourself,” you tease him, even though you’re pretty sure he’s right.
One of his hands comes to the side of your face, his fingertips along your jaw, bringing your gaze to him. “You know what I think?” He says, and his thumb catches against your bottom lip, “I think these other boys weren’t fucking you right.”
A deep spike of heat lances through you at his words, and he smiles when he feels your muscles contract around him. He slides his hands down to cup your backside, easily pulling you up and down again on his hard length and you can’t stop the broken little moan that bubbles up from inside you. “I think,” he continues, moving one of his hands to cover your lower stomach again, “you needed to feel something here.” He presses down firmly with his fingers and rocks his hips, building tight heat inside you.
“Fuck,” you stammer, “when did you get so mouthy?”
“I don’t know,” he grins and pulls you in for a kiss, dragging his tongue along yours before breaking the lip lock and leaning his forehead against yours, “you make me insane, y/n, I swear to God.”
“Yeah?” You kiss him sweetly, nuzzling against him and running your hands along his back, up to his soft locks.
“You know you do,” he murmurs, “I can’t get enough of you,”
The way he maneuvers between dirty talk and soft, borderline romantic, assurances always puts you in a dizzy spiral. Every time you slept together it was getting harder and harder to stop wanting him, even now you find yourself daydreaming about it, the life you might be able to have together, but you know for him it’s just sex, practiced safely within the bounds of your quarantine bubble.
“Yunho,” you sigh against him, pulling him as close to you as you can, every inch of available skin you can press together you do. The light buzz you were feeling earlier is wearing off, but that doesn’t stop you from feeling emotional now. Dipping your head into his shoulder you kiss him softly and rest here.
His arms wind tighter around you, his hand running up and down your back soothingly, “Hey,” he murmurs, “is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” you exhale against him, but stay hiding out of his direct view, “I’m good,”
He turns his head slightly, pressing his cheek against your head, “Would you tell me if you weren’t?”
“Yeah,” you nod, one of the first real lies you’ve ever told him.
“Okay,” he strokes your back again, “but you seem… off all of a sudden.”
You pull away, meeting his eyes and giving him another kiss, “It’s nothing, sometimes it’s just a little overwhelming,” you tell him, and that at least is honest.
“Intimate,” he nods, stroking your face with his thumb softly, his hand cupping your neck, “I get it,”
“Yeah?”
He nods, holding you close and kissing you tenderly, “Yeah,” he shifts again, maneuvering you down to your back on the bed, his cock never leaving you as he rolls on top of you and sinks further down, gathering you close in his arms, “you let me do anything to you,” He thrusts once and you can’t help but arch against him, “I let you do anything to me,” he thrusts again.
You grip his broad shoulders, wrap your legs around him as he presses into you. He kisses you again before murmuring hot against your skin, “we trust each other,”
You nod against him, “Yeah,”
He stops moving his hips, leaning back from your face and smoothing back your hair. He grins, cheeky and playful once more, “You’re so soft for me, look at you,”
He makes you laugh, of course he does, and you swallow down the tender moment, locking it away somewhere far deep inside you. You’d analyze that later, the way that the feeling of him filling every space of you and confessing tender words made your stomach twist. The lines are getting blurry and messy, but right here when he makes you laugh, you push it away and refocus.
“Please,” you peck a kiss against his face, run teasing fingers down his sides, “you’re the one who’s soft for me.”
“Probably,” he smirks, quirking an eyebrow and jutting his hips sharply to push his cock deeper inside of you again.
“Fuck,” you manage.
“Can’t take me?” He pulls out at least halfway before snapping his hips into you again.
You keen, gripping him for purchase, but keep your head clear. If he’s maneuvering this back to the bet, at least you could focus on that and winning to keep your mind off the way his eyes turn soft and tender sometimes when you come, the way he croons praises against the hollow of your ear when he pushes you over the edge into an orgasm, the way he calls you baby, sweetheart, pretty, his girl.
Blinking clear you push up on his shoulders, “Yunho, get off,”
“What?” he looks down at you, confusion all over his face.
“Get off me,” you gesture with your head, and he pulls out and off you immediately.
He’s not an easy man to manhandle, being so much taller and broader than you, but you slide over to the side and push his shoulders again, to get him to lay down on the bed. He realizes after a second that you’re just trying to switch positions, and his expression clears, he chuckles as you push him into the position you want. You push the pillows off the side of the bed, and he lays perfectly flat against the mattress, his long legs spread out and touching each corner of the bed, one hand comes to prop up his head.
“What’s this?” He teasingly asks.
You straddle him immediately, hovering your entrance over his stiff cock, letting the head press gently into your hole, “You had your turn.”
“I didn’t know there was a time limit,” he says, but hisses when you start to drop down on him.
His eyes are glued to the spot where you connect and the way your body takes him, his lips parting softly. “Just be quiet,” you hush him, shifting up and down his length.
“You need to focus?” He murmurs, but you clench your muscles around him intentionally and he lets out a broken pant.
You secure your hands in the center of his chest and start to work your hips, swiveled circles into a smooth pace. The feeling of him is perfect like this, touching every deep soft part inside of you, but you know for him it makes him crazier. He can never get enough of you on top, the sight alone of you bouncing up and down above him enough to get him close, let alone the sensation of your tight channel around him.
“Like I said,” you tease him, “you’re too easy.”
He’s about to respond, but you shift a hand on his chest and pass your thumb directly over his nipple. His eyes screw shut, and he groans, you know that if you work him just right you can get him there. You lower yourself down, shifting so you can still bounce your hips, and gently pass the tip of your tongue over his hardened nipple.
“Jesus,” his hands grip your hips hard, and you smile against his skin, darting your tongue out again to flick it, this time much more firmly. He shifts his legs, coming to plant his feet flat on the bed, his knees up behind you so he can thrust himself into you at the pace he needs.
With one hand teasing his left nipple and your tongue teasing his right, it’s a matter of moments. You moan against him, tensing your muscles again, and shift to look up at him as best you can in this position, “Yun,” you pant, “please, baby, will you fill me up?”
His hips stutter, his pace faltering and his mouth drops open, “Oh, fuck,”
“I need it,” you double down, “Yunnie, please,”
At your intentionally wanton moan his hands on your hips shift and he pulls you up and off him, his hands pushing yours away from his chest and maneuvering you to hover above him. He’s panting, a sheet of sweat on his forehead and you can feel how tense he is beneath you, but he caught himself just in time. You think for a moment that he might have a retort on the tip of his tongue, but instead he just pulls you forwards, “Get the fuck up here,” he directs, and drags your body up his.
You’re not sure where he’s going until he shimmies down between your thighs and buries his face into your wet heat. The sudden intensity has you reeling, and you collapse forwards, gripping the headboard for support and trying to hold yourself up above him.
Yunho devours you like he’s starving, his tongue moving from pressing inside you, to running the length of your slit, focusing precise flicks and sucks against your clit. Pleasure bubbles in your belly and you try to move off and away from him, but his hands lock down firmly over your thighs and force you further down against his mouth. He pushes your body with his hands, rocking you against his mouth, his nose bumping perfectly against your swollen clit.
“Yunho,” you grit your teeth and try to ignore the desperate vibrations of pleasure rolling up your body, “Fuck,”
He chuckles against you, working you harder and barely taking a breath. His hands slip around to palm the soft flesh of your ass, squeezing expertly and surely leaving bruises. One of his hands caresses the softest part, massaging it gently, before his hand lifts and drops down with an expert spank before returning to massage the spot. You shudder out a moan, feeling your thighs shake around him.
He breaks away from your clit for just a moment, taking a breath, “That’s what you really sound like,” he punctuates his remark with another slap, “that’s what I want to fucking hear.”
You choke out another moan, and he delivers another slap, firmer this time and you can feel yourself tense and jump above him.
“Baby,” he spanks you once more, “look at me.”
Your eyes fly open, and you look down between your legs. You can only see the top half of his face from where he’s buried beneath you, against you, but you can still tell he has a grin on his lips from the way his eyes crinkle up, pleased with himself. He delivers a sharp lick to your clit and slaps you once more, “I want you to watch me make you come,” he says, palming your ass again tightly, “keep your eyes on me.”
You have half a mind to listen, bet nearly forgotten as he returns his mouth to your swollen clit, his eyes open and locked on yours, his hands tight and holding you to him. When you rock your hips involuntarily, chasing a particular strike of pleasure that runs from your clit to your chest, he moans against you, pushing your hips to have you rock again.
When your eyes flutter shut, he delivers a punishing slap, and you refocus your eyes on him. You’re painfully close, you want to will your body to move, keep him from winning, but when one of his hands slides further around you to push two fingers inside you, everything is forgotten.
One of your hands drops from the headboard to wind into his hair, pulling on him gently as you rut your hips softly against his tongue, his fingers pistoning in and out of your wet aching heat at a punishing speed.
“Yun, please,” you cry out, “please let me come,”
His pace doesn’t slow, and when your body can’t take anymore, it tips you over the edge. The sound that leaves you is desperate, a panting sob as you rock against his mouth, gripping his hair a little too hard as your mind blanks out. You collapse over him, lifting away from his face as you hold the headboard for some semblance of support, your body shaking.
He presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh before sliding out from underneath you and coming to settle behind you, pulling your boneless body back into his arms, “Feel good, baby?”
“So amazing,” you confirm, but as he wraps his arms around you, you can still feel the way your clit is pulsing, and you’re desperate and hungry for more.
“I think,” he murmurs into your hair, his hands coasting across your slick skin, “this means I win.”
“Yunho,” you shake your head, “I don’t care,”
“What?” he looks down at you in his arms.
"I’ll play whatever game you want for however long, I don’t care,” you reach back and grip whatever part of him you can find, holding him against you, “I need you to fuck me right now.”
He grips you tighter, “Yeah?”
“Please,” you arch a little in his arms, “I have to,”
He doesn’t answer, but moves back on the bed, dragging you with him before tipping you forward onto all fours. His hands do all the work, shifting your body into the position he needs. He presses down on the center of your back and makes you arch for him before pushing your knees apart a little wider.
“You want me?” you feel the head of his cock press into you, just an inch or two.
“Now, now, please,” you’re delusional, panting, pressing back into him.
He sinks himself inside you, pressing in and staying still for a few moments, letting the thick deep feeling of him wash over you again. At this angle he is torturously deep, almost too much to take, and he knows it.
Yunho collapses down over you, forcing your hips down towards the mattress, and he tugs one of your legs up so that you’re bent at the knee, opening yourself up wider for him. “I’ll never get tired of this,” he groans, pumping into you slowly and kissing the side of your face that is turned towards him.
A whine slips through your lips, your hands tightening on the sheets beneath you. He smiles against your skin, panting, his hands running up and down your sides as he rolls his hips into you. “No one takes me like you,” he whispers hot against your ear.
You moan, reaching back to touch any part of his skin that you can, your eyes shut tight as he works you up to your second orgasm.
“Fuck,” he breathes, slowing his pace for a minute, “I’m too close, give me a second,”
Your eyes flutter open, in your periphery you can see him pressed against you, his forehead against your temple, a smile on his face. “Too good?” You murmur, teasing him.
“You know it is,” he laughs, and shifts so he can capture your lips. It’s an uncomfortable position for a kiss, barely logistically possible, but you don’t care. He kisses you with passion, like he always does, his hand caressing your hair and ghosting down your shoulders, tongue dipping into your mouth and letting you taste yourself on him.
He breaks away, sighing against you and letting you settle your head back comfortably on the mattress, but he keeps his head close to yours, his mouth by your ear again. He starts to rock his hips faster again, isolated snaps downwards into you like he just can't help himself. Yunho groans against you, “All I want,” he kisses your ear, “is to feel you like this forever,”
His words make you clench, and he continues, “Would you do that, sweetheart?” He croons, brushing your hair away from the side of your face and neck with his free hand so he can kiss your skin, “Would you let me have you like this forever?”
“Please,” you stutter out, but the intimacy of his words rushes over you. The feeling of him stretching you deliciously, filling you and brushing against that tender part inside of you, and his whispered words send you spiraling.
“God, I,” his hand tightens on your hip, “love this, love your body, look at how you take me,”
The word love against your ear does it, emotions swimming up again and making this harder and harder. You twist beneath him, hiding your face in the sheets, letting the curtain of your hair come down and conceal you so he can’t see the way you blink back the sudden rush of tears. You can’t take much more. “Harder,” you choke out, needing him to give you space, needing to feel him everywhere and push these thoughts away.
His upper body lifts away from you, “Is that what you want?” He thrusts into you to punctuate his words, hard and deep.
Your legs are shaking, breath nearly knocked out of you, and you nod, frantic and wanting, “Harder, please, harder,”
At your cries, he obliges. Yunho shifts positions, his forearm across your shoulders, forcing you harder against the bed and his other hand bracing on the mattress beside you. Every deep push of him inside you has you coming apart at the seams, pleasure hot and tight inside you, the sound of skin connecting on skin with every downward snap of his hips.
He’s muttering curses, panting, sweat across his brow, and he moans when you clench down around his length before managing, “Let me see you, baby,”
You’re biting down hard on your lower lip, forehead safely tucked into the mattress, tears still in your eyes though you’re not sure if they’re from his whispered tenderness or the sharp pleasure radiating up your body. Either way, you can’t face him. “Harder,” you beg again, “Yunho, please,”
“God,” he chokes, his pace faltering, “baby, if I fuck you any harder, I might literally break you in half,” he laughs lightly and pulls up and out of you completely, repositioning.
“I don’t care,” you shake your head, pushing your body back up to all fours and arching deep to open yourself up, “I’m so close, I need it,”
He uses his fingers to help guide his cock back inside you, tugging your hips back to sink in completely. “That’s what you want?”
“Yes, please,” you press your body back into him, begging him to pick up the pace. You’re past wanting him to be soft, past wanting him to be funny. You want him to pull you apart, to push any thoughts out of your mind, to make impossible to feel anything but him.
Moments ago, you weren’t sure if he could go any harder, any faster, but the pace he’s setting now is relentless. The sound is lewd, your choked moans, his heavy breaths and pants, skin connecting, the bed creaking, the wet sound of you abused core.
At a particularly sharp thrust you collapse forwards with a cry. He winds a hand into your hair and pulls you up to steady you, but his hand doesn’t leave your scalp. “Let me see you,” he asks again, but this time he takes control, pushing your hair off your face and into his hand.
“Don’t stop,” you beg him.
“Are you close?” he manages.
You try to nod, constricted by his hand in your hair, and he yanks you up, far enough that your hands can’t reach the mattress anymore. He holds you suspended, one of his large hands coming to hold you by your stomach and keep you up, the other in your hair, and he leans back to perch you on his hips. The loss of control ties the knot inside you tighter, the sound of his broken breath and the feeling of his hands on you brings you right up to the edge.
“I’m,” he starts, and you feel his hand across your front tighten. The hand in your hair slips, and for just a moment you feel like you’re going to fall forwards, but he wraps his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. He holds you with a bruising grip, thrusting recklessly upwards as best he can from his position on his knees. He bites down on your shoulder when he comes, desperate and hazy, his release hot inside you.
He barely recovers before he’s pressing a hand between your legs. He doesn’t pull out or shift positions, just secures his middle and ring fingers to your clit and starts to circle them, harsh and quick. The tip over the edge is immediate, your body spasming without control as you arch against him, your nails digging into his forearm and thigh. Your head is back against his shoulder, his lips at your ear again, “There she is,” he pants, his fingers never stilling to help you ride it through.
The sound that leaves you is broken and somewhere between a cry and a moan, tears rushing hot down your temples, your legs shaking. “That’s my pretty girl,” he soothes you, slowing his hand once he’s sure you’ve come, easing you down before removing his hand entirely and instead just holding you against him.
As you blink your eyes open you can feel that you’re both shaking, bodies slick with sweat and weak from the exertion. Yunho’s breath starts to even out, and he kisses the side of your face, humming pleasantly, satisfied. The ringing in your ears from the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had starts to fade, and your brain starts to connect with the whispered words against your temple.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, stroking your skin, “I love watching you come,”
You don’t respond, you can’t. He recovers enough to lift you off him, before he slides out from under you and collapses into the sheets with a deep exhausted sigh. He looks up to you, eyes expectant, and you know he thinks you’ll just cuddle up to his chest, fall asleep like always, but you don’t. You get off the bed, legs weak but still working, and head straight to the bathroom, shutting the door tight behind you. You throw the sink on high, letting the sound of the water hopefully muffle up the tears that are bubbling back up. This night had started out fun, cooking in the kitchen, sharing a bottle of wine, traded jabs loaded with innuendo and hasty kisses. In the middle somewhere it turned into a different kind of wanting.
It takes a few minutes to recover, but when the sudden rush of tears fades, you take a few deep breaths and resolve to go back. It wasn’t really his fault that you were falling in love with him. After the first time, you had convinced yourself so perfectly that you could compartmentalize it, that the feelings you had for him were because you were friends, and friends cared about each other, but you were never very good at separating sex and emotions.
You finish up quickly, using the toilet, splashing cold water on your face, and wrapping your hair up into a bun. You pull on your robe that hangs on the back of his bathroom door and tie it tight around you. Your hips hurt, your legs are weak and sore, and you’re glad the robe covers the bloom of bruises on your thighs. You finish cleaning yourself up and pull the door open to step back into the bedroom.
Yunho’s sitting on the edge of the bed, boxers back on, his elbows resting on his knees and his eyes downcast. When he hears you reenter the room his head snaps up, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod, a little confused, “why wouldn’t I be okay?”
He looks instantly relieved and reaches for you, “You disappeared and didn’t say anything,”
“I just wanted to get cleaned up,” you tell him, and that’s not entirely untrue. You move across the room to him, where he reaches out to you and let him pull you into his arms.
He’s gentle now, his hands softly holding your hips, massaging little circles into them through the fabric of your robe. “I wasn’t too rough?”
“No,” you shake your head, resting your hands on top of his, “no, it was good,”
“Okay,” he turns his hands and intertwines your fingers, leans forward and presses a kiss to your chest where the robe is parted, “come here then,”
“Yunho,” you say, with no real plan, you just know that getting back in bed with him and letting him hold you is going to break you in two.
He looks up at you, squeezes your hands and furrows his brow, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you assure him.
“So come to bed,” he tugs your hands gently to coax you forwards but you don’t move.
“Yunho,” you shake your head, dropping your eyes, your voice small. Maybe it was now or never, maybe you could say it and your friendship would survive it. Maybe you could go back to being roommates, friends and nothing more. You swallow tightly and meet his eyes, “I think we should stop.”
You weren’t prepared for the look of abject panic that crosses his face, “What are you talking about?”
You break your hands apart, stepping away to get some distance, “I think we should stop having sex,”
“What just happened?” he says, standing and crowding you again, taking your face in his warm hands, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” you shake your head, taking his hands in yours and pulling them away from your face.
“I mean, something’s going on,” he interrupts, reaching for you again, “because twenty minutes ago we were having some of the most intense sex of my life, and now you’re saying let’s stop. So, either I hurt you and you’re not telling me, or something’s going on with you, and I’ve got to be honest I’m really hoping it’s the latter.”
“You didn’t,” you assure, but keep him at arm’s length, “Yunho, I promise.”
He looks you over head to toe and nods, “Then tell me why you won’t come to bed,”
Tightness builds in your throat, but you push it down, “I just... I thought about it, and I think we should stop fucking around.”
When you look back up to him, his jaw is set tight. He shakes his head, “Is that what we’ve been doing? Fucking around?”
“What?”
You’ve never seen him so worked up before, and he locks eyes with you to ask again, “Is that all we’ve been doing, just fucking around?”
“I don’t understand,” you manage.
“We spend all day together, we eat dinner together every night, we have sex every day,” his brows are knit tight together, confusion all over his face and he keeps going, “you’ve let me do things to you I can’t spell, we sleep together every night, and we wake up together every morning. That’s fucking around?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying your understanding of casual sex must be really skewed, because I’ve never done any of those things with a hookup.” He pulls away from you, crossing the room so he can grab a t-shirt and throwing it on over his head. He’s frustrated, the muscles in his arms jumping when he grips his fists tight for a second.
“I’m confused,” you confess, “you said you wanted us to help each other out since we’re trapped in quarantine,”
“I know what I said,” he fires back.
The last thing you expected was for him to react this strongly and to start a fight. You’ve never had one with him, you’ve only ever seen him ruffled by a video game and even then, he doesn’t look half as pissed as he does right now. “Yunho,” you drop your voice down soft, “I didn’t mean to upset you,”
“Upset me?” His eyebrows shoot up, “No, you’re just making it perfectly clear what you think. I just didn’t realize,”
“I should have waited to say something,” you look down, “I just don’t want to ruin us, our friendship.”
“Our friendship,” he repeats.
You look up to meet his eyes, “Yeah, I just,” you flounder, “I know it’s always been important to you, and I just think we’ve been blurring the lines, and I,”
“The lines are well past blurred,” he interjects, “I just didn’t know you cared this little. You could have fooled me.”
“This little?” You take a step forward and he takes one back, a hand out to tell you to back off, that it’s not the time, “Yunho, I care about you so much, you know that.”
“Tell me,” He says, “with the other men you’ve fucked around with, was it like this?”
Tears spring to your eyes as he twists your words back on you and you blink furiously to clear your vision, sweeping the fallen ones away with the sleeve of your robe, “Was it like us?” You clarify.
“Yeah,” he nods. He opens his mouth to say more, but shuts it again, holding his tongue.
You shake your head, “Nothing’s been like us,”
His relaxes and he sighs, “Then tell me, just be honest with me. What changed? From twenty minutes ago to now.”
Blush heats your cheeks, and you sniff, swallowing back more tears. You reach for him but don’t move forward, an upturned palm asking him to come just a little closer. He rests his hands in yours and waits, not coming any closer. “It’s,” you don’t know where to look, but when his gaze softens, and his thumb runs over your knuckles you meet his eyes. You try again, “Somewhere in all of this it started to feel real for me,”
“What?” His hand stills.
“I’m sorry,” you can’t help the tears that spill over now, your stomach in knots, “I tried to separate it, I really did, but it started to get twisted in my head and I can’t help how I feel. You’re amazing, and my best friend, and I should have stopped us a long time ago before I felt this way, but I couldn’t.”
He drops your hand and your heart plummets, “y/n,” he blinks, taking in a breath.
You can practically feel the soft let down, and you wonder if he’s ever had to do this before. It hurts, you realize, far more than you thought it would. You interject quickly to keep his words at bay, “It’s okay though, honestly. It just turns out I’m not as good at casual sex as I thought, and I mean, we live together and we’re in each other’s space so much, of course it’s hard. To be fair to me though, you didn’t help either, always calling me pet names during sex and being so sweet,”
“y/n,” Yunho says, a little louder, this time, “how exactly do you feel?”
“What?”
“You said you should have stopped before you felt this way. What way? Tell me,”
“Oh,” you exhale slow, and your stomach flutters as you try to find the words, “Before I wanted you like this,” you explain, “before I fell in love with you.”
Now, with it out in the open, you feel like you could hear a pin drop. Yunho grins wide suddenly, an immediately laugh on his lips as he steps towards you, “I can’t believe you,” he crowds your space, pushing you back towards the wall suddenly, “you are such a fucking idiot sometimes,”
Your brain is firing a mile a minute, but everything clicks off when he presses his lips to yours, his hand cupping your head when he pushes you into the wall. He holds you tight, pulling you up on your tip toes while bending low to kiss you. When he breaks to take a breath you push him backwards, “What are you doing?”
“I can’t believe you seriously just tried to break up with me because you love me,” he dips in for another kiss, but you dart out from under his arms and spin to face him.
“Don’t make fun of me,” you warn.
“I’m sorry,” he throws his hands up, still grinning and you can’t understand the incredible stark tonal shift between how angry he was a moment ago to now.
“Wait,” the wheels in your head start turning, things clicking into place, “what do you mean break up with you?”
“Maybe I should have been more clear,” Yunho takes a step towards you, “I didn’t want to just fuck around. I don’t want to just fuck around at all. I want you, entirely.”
“Oh,” your breath leaves you in a rush.
“I thought it was obvious,” he continues, “and I should have said something, but I thought you knew. I mean we’ve slept in the same bed for two months, and I’ve never not woken up without you in my arms, I thought you knew.”
“I didn’t,” you say quietly.
“I’m in love with you,” he says simply, his eyes shining, crinkled upwards with his smile, “so when I say want you forever, I mean with me.”
“You love me,” you repeat, turning the words over in your mouth, knots in your stomach releasing.
“I do,” he steps into your space, reaching for your face again, “I love you and I can’t believe you just tried to break up with me.”
“You could have told me we were dating,” you grin.
“God, come here,” he pulls you up into his arms, locking his lips on yours and squeezing you tight. He stumbles forwards until he finds the edge of the bed and tips you both down onto the mattress, situating himself above you again.
“Yunho,” you mumble into his mouth when he moves his hand down your hip to your inner thigh and pushes it to the side to open you up to him. You can feel him growing hard again against you and you break the kiss, “again?”
“I can’t help it,” he peppers kisses down your jaw, your throat, nipping softly across your collarbones, “you said you love me,”
“Yeah,” you sigh, threading your fingers into his hair, “I really, really do.”
“Then I need you,” he shrugs, and starts to part your robe.
“Wait,” you stop him.
He looks up to you, expectant, waiting.
“Let’s take it a little slower,” you squeeze his hand, “I’m pretty sore already.”
He nods, but you see him thinking. He pulls the tie on your robe free, opening up the fabric and he looks over you. Your thighs are bruised, your hips too, and he softly passes his hand over them. “Why did you want me to fuck you like that?” He murmurs.
"Hey,” you shake your head, tugging his hand to pull him back up to your face, “I liked it, I asked you to. I’m just sore, that’s okay,”
He nods and kisses you soft, his wide hands running over every inch of your skin. You sigh into his mouth when he pushes open your legs a little further and runs his fingers softly down your slit to check you. Yunho presses his middle finger inside of you, softly brushing along your walls with his fingertip.
“Yunho,” you murmur against him, “come here,” you tug at the waistband of his boxers, and he kicks them off, tossing his shirt over his head too.
He eases over you slowly before helping you position your hips right and starting to push inside you again. Your hips ache in their tilted position, but it’s a good ache, the familiar stretch of him warm and welcome. He’s watching your face carefully, clearly a little hesitant after being so rough with you earlier, and you wrap your legs around him to urge him deeper.
“Yun,” you murmur, brushing your fingers through his hair, “I’m good, I want you,”
“I just want to take care of you,” he murmurs, stroking your cheek.
“I know,” you pull him towards you, bringing his length to fully seat inside you. “I love you,” you tell him, now that you’re flush against each other, nose to nose and sharing the same breaths.
He smiles, kissing each cheek, your forehead, your lips, the tip of your nose, “I love you too,” he murmurs, “you’re my girl,”
You nod against him, “I’m all yours,”
Yunho starts to roll his hips, slow and easy and your body responds instantly, getting wetter with every little thrust and your overstimulated clit sparking with pleasure where it catches against him softly. He dips his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours and deepening your kisses, his free hand cupping your breast and brushing his thumb over your stiff nipple.
“Oh,” you sigh pleasantly into his mouth, your fingers tightening on his back.
He works you quietly, softly, every stoke inside you and brush of your nipple adding pressure to the heat low in your belly, bringing you closer and closer with every move. He holds you to him, your body soft and pliant for him. He rolls against you, sucking softly against the pulse point in your neck and you arch up, the shifted angle of his cock inside you now massaging your g-spot steadily with every rock.
“Please,” you whimper against him, “just like that,”
“Right here?” he rolls again, delivering a pointed flick to your nipple and you tense up, body locked with pleasure.
“Please, more,” you duck your head into his chest, letting your eyes slip closed as you focus wholly on the warm stretch of him inside you and his hands caressing your skin.
He gathers you closer, holding you against his chest and bracing himself with one forearm against the mattress. He cups your head, fingers sinking into your hair, his lips against the top of your head. He picks up his pace a little, chasing his release just as much, and curses softly into your hair.
It only takes a moment more for you to spill over the edge, holding him tightly and arching up in his arms, your lips pressing against the bare skin of his shoulder. As your muscles contract down on him, he falters, rutting his hips quickly and bringing himself up and over the precipice. “Come, baby,” you urge him on, stroking his back.
He moans softly, clutching you tightly as he comes, filling you again, whispered words against your skin you can barely make out. The gentle wave of your orgasm has passed, leaving you hazy and warm, and you lean back into the sheets.
“Don’t go anywhere this time,” he slides his weight of you and nuzzles you with his nose, kissing you lazily and pleased.
“I’m staying right here,” you assure him, letting him pull your back to his chest and wrap around you.
“I’m never letting you go,” he sighs.
“We’ll have to get out of bed sometime,” you tease him softly, letting your eyes slip closed.
“That’s a tomorrow problem,” he reaches to the side and grabs the edge of the comforter so he can drag it up over you.
You cuddle into him and the blankets, your skin chilled from the air conditioning unit passing cold air over your sweat slick skin. He sighs, his hand coming to rest on your chest, his thumb stroking soft and even patterns into your soft flesh. “Yunho,” you murmur and he hums in response, though you know he’s rapidly approaching sleep, “I love you so much,”
Now that you’ve started to say it, you can’t stop, and neither can he. The giddy rush of the early days of love sending butterflies through you. He shifts, bringing his lips close to your ear, and he presses a kiss there before saying, “I love you too,” His voice warm and low.
He gives you a squeeze and you sigh into his embrace, letting your body relax wholly into him. You won’t be able to stay awake much longer, but as the thought enters your mind you have to ask, so you softly shift your hand into his, “So I guess you’re my boyfriend now, hmm?”
“I was your boyfriend two months ago,” he says, squeezing your hand, “you just didn’t know it yet.”
a/n: thank you to everyone who left me extremely kind messages on the first part to this two-shot, summer nights. i love writing for non!idol yunho so much, so this one was very fun. feel free to drop me an ask if you have any requests <3
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