'*•.¸undeniably yours¸.•*'
୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / bonus ୨♡୧
pairing: beomgyu x femreader
genre: fluff, strangers to friends to ....? , college AU, slow burn
summary: you and beomgyu are partnered for a group project, the connection starts off as simple friendship. but as you share quiet moments, unspoken glances, and moments of vulnerability, the lines between friendship and something more begin to blur.
w/c: ~4k
warnings: not entirely proofread, fluff (might be cringe), an attempt at humor
a/n: its been 10 years since i last wrote something (which was on wattpad) and actually published lol so many drafts ;-; so bear with me. i usually don't write fluff, i always leaned more to angst or smut yet here i am. i hope it's a little bit enjoyable <3
it wasn't love at first sight.
there were no sparks flying across the room, no fireworks, no swelling background music with flower petals twirling and glitters shimmering.
just a tuesday morning lecture, and a pair of tired eyes locking briefly across the room before looking back down at a notebook.
"i've assigned the partners already," the professor said, tapping his laptop. "check your emails."
you opened yours with a sigh, not expecting much. then paused.
beomgyu? that guy who always sat in the third row by the window? who always wore those oversized hoodies, and had a habit of twirling his pen when he was deep in thought?
beomgyu. that guy with the soft brown eyes and the eternal bedhead. the one who always had a half-smile playing on his lips as your eyes met. you'd shared a few classes before, exchanged nods and awkward hellos in group discussions, but never really talked.
you agreed to meet at a nearby cafe the next day—neutral territory. the project was due in 15 weeks, and you didn't want to be the partner who slacked off. you arrived first and chose a small table by the window. you heard the soft jingle of the door and looked up just in time to see beomgyu walk in, ruffling his hair and looking around until his eyes landed on you.
he offered you a small wave, walking over with a grin. "hey."
"hey, beomgyu." you returned, sending him a kind smile.
"that's me." he slid into the chair across from you. "sorry if i'm late. i had to rescue my hoodie from my roommate's dog. he thinks it's his now."
you laughed before you could stop yourself. "did you win the battle?"
"barely. this is a peace offering," he said, holding up a slightly crumpled banana milk. "also, i brought you one. it's not coffee, but it's got charm."
you blinked, surprised. "you brought me one?"
"figured i should start off as a decent partner," he said with a casual shrug. "if you hate banana milk, i'll take it back and cry about it later."
"i like it," you chuckled softly and sent him a smile. "thanks."
your first meeting was mostly small talk and note-sharing. beomgyu was surprisingly organized, though he admitted he did most of his work at 2 a.m.
"that's when i'm the most powerful." he said with a mock serious face, earning a laugh from you.
both of you got to work quickly—organizing tasks, dividing responsibilities, setting deadlines. it was professional. efficient. but something about the way beomgyu spoke—soft and easy, laced with dry humor—made you feel oddly comfortable.
he wasn't trying hard. he didn't have to.
but what struck you the most was how easily he listened as much as he talked. he wasn't just nodding along. he remembered things, like how you preferred tea over coffee, or that you hated typing on your laptop without music playing.
by the end of that first meeting, you'd laughed more than you had all week. that was the first moment you realized he wasn't what you expected. not just the class clown or the guy who wore headphones walking down the hallway.
thoughtful, a little odd and disarming in a weirdly comforting way.
the collaboration soon settled into a comfortable rhythm. study sessions alternated between the library, the cafe, and occasionally, each other's homes. each meeting, their conversations began to drift beyond the confines of their project.
both sitting on the floor of beomgyu's living room, while his roommate was away and surrounded by open books and notes, beomgyu strummed his guitar absentmindedly.
"you play?" you asked, nodding towards the instrument.
he glanced up, a sheepish smile on his face. "a little. it's more of a hobby."
he hesitated for a moment, his fingers softly grazing the strings. "alright, but no judging."
you nodded and his fingers danced over the strings, producing a soft melody that filled the room. you watched, captivated by the way he immersed himself in the music. as the final note lingered, you clapped softly.
"wow," you said under your breath, afraid to break the silence. "that was beautiful."
beomgyu's ears turned pink, luckily for him, his hair covered most of his ears. "thanks. it's just something i do to unwind."
"do you write your own songs?"
"sometimes," he admitted. "mostly when i can't sleep."
you leaned forward, intrigued. "i'd love to hear one sometime."
he met your gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "maybe one day."
"so, tell me something weird about you." beomgyu said as he was scrolling uninterestedly through his phone.
beomgyu was sitting on the couch, leaning with his back against the arm rest and his feet resting on your lap.
you looked up from your phone, turning your head to him as you raised an eyebrow. "weird how?"
he shrugged casually, putting his phone down, meeting your gaze. "like... you eat cereal with water, or you sing to your houseplants. something unexpected."
you grinned. "okay. i have this very serious superstition that i have to wear mismatched socks on exam days."
beomgyu blinked. "you... what?"
"they bring me luck!" you quickly defended yourself, but couldn't help but laugh a little.
"that's extremely specific. i like it." he said, his fingers touching his chin as he nodded.
"your turn," you challenged.
he thought for a moment. "sometimes i talk to my laundry."
you frowned your eyebrows before you burst out laughing. "your laundry?"
"yeah, like if i'm folding a shirt and it refuses to cooperate, i'll scold them, or just yell at them."
you clutched your stomach, tears forming in the corners of your eyes. "you are—wow." before you could finish your sentence, you began to laugh even harder.
he was now reenacting the scene.
"i'm never looking at laundry the same again." you said, trying to stop yourself from laughing.
beomgyu was effortlessly funny, the kind of person who could make you laugh without even trying. he'd mimic professors, come up with ridiculous nicknames, or read lines from their textbook in dramatic accents just to see you smile.
"wait, you've never watched spirited away?" beomgyu asked one evening, scandalized. "we need to fix that. immediately."
"i just never got around to it," you defended. "you're making it sound like i committed a crime."
"you kind of did." he grinned. "movie night. right now."
you rolled your eyes, but your lips slowly curved into a smile, betraying you. "fine. but i'm picking snacks."
the group project finished early. neither of you mentioned it, but you kept meeting up anyway.
it was the little things that began to chip away at the wall around your heart. the way he'd always wait for you outside class, even when it wasn't necessary.
how he remembered your favorite drink and brought it to study sessions without asking. the way he looked at you when you laughed—like you were something he'd been waiting to see bloom.
and it was how he didn't rush it.
even when your fingers brushed for a second too long, or when you stood closer than necessary, or when the silence stretched a little too comfortable—beomgyu never pushed.
he just let it happen, slowly, unforced, easy.
after a particularly grueling study session, both of you decided to take a break. the city lights shimmered as you wandered through the quiet streets, hands tucked into both of your pockets as the hot summer came to an end and the rainy fall was approaching.
"do you ever feel like you're going through the motions?" beomgyu asked, his breath visible in the cold air.
you glanced at him, surprised by the sudden introspection. "sometimes. university can feel like that. but then there are moments that remind me why i'm here."
you thought for a moment. "like this. walking through the city, just talking. it makes everything feel... real."
he smiled softly. "yeah..."
you walk in silence for a while, the distance between you two narrowing with each step. his shoulder brushed yours once, then again, but neither of you moved away.
you found yourself on beomgyu’s couch as the rain pattered against the window, a classic film playing on the tv. you curled up with a blanket, while beomgyu sat beside you, your shoulders touching.
the room smelled faintly of buttered popcorn and cinnamon tea.
beomgyu had taken over the popcorn bowl, cradling it like some priceless artifact in his lap. he was deeply focused on it. more so than the movie, picking through the pieces like a kid separating marshmallows from cereal.
you arched a brow. "are you seriously removing all the unpopped kernels?"
beomgyu didn't even glance up. "yes. they're a menace. one wrong bite and it's over. i have sensitive molars."
you laughed and shook your head slightly. "you're so dramatic."
"i'm a victim of snack sabotage," he said with a solemn nod. "you wouldn't understand."
he looked up then— eyes shining, lips curled in that typical lazy grin of his—and you blinked, caught off guard by how different he looked like that, handsome even. like summer even though it was raining. like something warm even though the windows fogged with the cold.
you shook your head and grabbed a handful of popcorn from his 'safe pile.'
"thief," he accused, his lips slightly parted as his eyes followed your hand full of his popcorn.
"you owe me for picking the movie," you said casually through a mouthful.
"which, by the way, was way too sad." he responded witty , looking down at his safe pile that was looking much smaller now, a pout growing on his lips.
"hey. you voted for it!" you said defensively.
"you literally said—and i quote—'that one has cool vibes.'"
beomgyu gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "i did not sound like that."
the laughter bounced around the room like the rain outside, soft and constant. the movie flickered on, mostly forgotten now, serving as a backdrop to something that felt... safe.
beomgyu leaned back on the couch, stretching until his arm rested casually along the back, his fingers inches from your shoulder. not touching. almost.
you pretended to focus on the screen, but you couldn't help but notice how close he was. how normal it felt.
how not-normal that normal felt.
when did it become this easy to be around him?
when did he start looking like that?
beomgyu glanced over at you just then, mid-thought, and you caught him. his hand twitched like he might move it closer—then didn't
he grinned instead. "you've got popcorn salt on your cheek."
you tried wiping your face with the back of your hand.
you tried again. he squinted dramatically.
"closer," he teased. "warmer... almost... oh no. now it's smeared."
he leaned in then, brushing his thumb lightly across your cheekbone. just a second. just enough.
you froze. not from the touch, exactly—but from how something about it lodged itself under your ribs and stayed there.
that shouldn't have felt like anything, you told yourself.
beomgyu didn't move away immediately. he looked at you, eyes scanning like he was trying to solve a puzzle. like he was trying to read you.
he wasn't smiling anymore, not really. it wasn't serious, but it wasn't just playful anymore.
why do i keep noticing the way she looks at me?
why does her laugh sound like something i want to hear first thing in the morning?
that moment hung there—brief, silent, almost something.
the you grabbed a pillow and whacked him, maybe a little too hard.
"okay that was dramatic. you made it a whole moment."
he barked out a laugh, delighted, instantly recovering, his head tilted to the side. "i was being helpful! you're lucky i didn't use a napkin like an old man."
you narrowed your eyes. "you definitely would've done the whole spit-on-the-thumb thing, huh?"
beomgyu gasped. "do i look like a mom at a school drop-off?"
you looked him up and down pointedly. "you do own a cardigan that says otherwise."
he placed a hand to his chest, fake-offended. "that cardigan is a fashion statement."
"it's a threat to society."
he snatched a handful of popcorn and launched a piece at you. it bounced of your blanket.
"you're just jealous," he muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "you wish you looked that cozy."
"i do look cozy," you said smugly, hugging the bowl to your chest now like it was a trophy. "and now this popcorn's mine."
"oh you think i'm gonna let that slide?" he said inching closer.
you tightened your grip. "don't test me."
your eyes locked in mock-serious challenge. then, without warning, beomgyu lunged. both wrestling over the bowl like two kids at a sleepover, laughing so hard, barely holding it together.
limbs tangled, the blanket twisted, and somewhere in the chaos, your hand ended up resting against his chest, and his leg slid beside yours, warm and solid.
both of you froze—not on purpose, but as if something instinctual told you this was different. the laughter trailed off in small, breathless remnants, but neither of you moved right away.
you looked up, realizing how close you were. his hair was a little messy now. he was smiling—but softer. not his usual teasing, lazy grin.
your fingers curled slightly into the fabric of his hoodie before you pulled them back.
beomgyu didn't say anything. he just shifted onto his elbow, resting his head in his hand, watching you as you sat up and set the popcorn down beside the couch.
the room was still. not awkward nor heavy. just full of something unspoken.
you turned towards the screen, tucking your legs underneath you again.
"you're not so bad for a popcorn snob." you said lightly, not looking at him.
"thanks," he replied, his voice softer now. "you're not so bad for a popcorn thief."
the both of you sat in silence again, this time more aware of it. more aware of each other.
it was supposed to be a quick study session. an hour, maybe two. just enough to finalize the concept sketches and finish your part of the layout. you'd done most of the work already—beomgyu had helped a lot more than you expected him to, even stayed up late editing the small mistakes you made when you were too tired to keep your eyes open.
so when he texted you that afternoon—
"you free to review the last presentation slides? i promise i'll bring snacks + my charming presence."
—you'd rolled your eyes and typed short yes.
unfortunately, the rainy season wasn't over yet. today the rain started like a whisper, then turned into a roar.
it poured down so hard, you could barely see the street from your window.
thirty minutes later, he was standing in your doorway,
like fully soaked. hair flat. hoodie sticking to his arms. his sneakers squelched when he stepped inside.
he looked half amused, half miserable.
you blinked, your eyes traveling over him from head to toe. "did you walk here?"
beomgyu nodded, blinking rain from his lashes. "i was halfway when the sky opened up."
"why didn't you bring an umbrella?"
"i was trying to be dramatic."
he smiled sheepishly. "also... i forgot."
you sighed, shaking your head, already turning to grab a towel.
he wasn't planning on getting caught in a storm, but maybe, deep down, he wanted an excuse to stay longer.
the professor gave the class another project, but you both finished it, mostly.
but that wasn't the reason he'd wanted to come over.
he liked your apartment. the plants in teacups. the art prints taped to the walls instead of framed. your weird little snack drawer organized by mood. it all felt warm, like you lived in comfort space, like you weren't trying to impress anyone.
and he liked your company, though he was still figuring out what to do with those thoughts about you that kept popping occasionally.
he liked the way your mind worked. the way you made things feel calm yet entertaining.
so yeah, he walked through the storm. and maybe he didn't care.
"guess i'm stranded." he said as you returned, holding a towel and a worn grey sweatshirt in your arms.
you tossed both at his chest.
"you're lucky i'm nice." you muttered, turning around, back to the living room.
he caught the sweatshirt midair and laughed, peeling off his soaked hoodie. "no, i'm lucky it's you."
you didn't answer him. you didn't want to read too much into it. beomgyu said things like that. he flirted for fun.
he also didn't usually look at you like that.
you tried to ignore the way your heart sped up when he pulled your sweatshirt over his head. it looked better on him than it did on you, of course. and something about seeing him in it made the room feel smaller. closer.
you turned away and focused on making tea.
the rain hadn't stopped. it got heavier.
by that time, you both ended up on the couch under the blankets, the storm had turned the apartment into a little cave—safe, warm, cut off from everything else.
the tea steamed gently on the table. the movie played, but neither of you were paying attention. you sat shoulder to shoulder, legs tucked up, knees barely touching.
and still, you could feel him. every little shift. every glance.
you saw him look at you once. then again. and a third time.
"hey," he said, eyes on the screen, voice barely above a whisper.
you turned your head slightly. "hm?"
"i'm really glad we got partnered together." he said referring to early spring.
he wasn't sure why he said it. but he did.
you weren't sure why your heart was speaking before your mind could process everything.
maybe for him, it was because the rain softened everything. maybe it was because the blanket was warm and you were warm and something about being near you made everything easier.
he didn't look at you, his gaze still glued to the tv. still, he felt you turn slightly towards you.
"me too," you said, and there was a smile.
that did something to his chest, a tiny smile growing on his face.
"you know, i used to think you were kind of quiet," he said, trying to keep his tone light. you raised a brow. "but you're actually... kind of weird."
you elbowed him softly. "what... thanks, i guess?"
beomgyu grinned. "no like... you say weird stuff. the thing with your mismatched socks, talking to your plants like they're your babies. your enormous snacks collection based on your mood. but it's cool. it's interesting."
you didn't say anything, more like not knowing what to say. so you just looked at him.
your eyes, soft, kind. more than words ever could.
"your sweatshirt smells like you," he murmured, completely out of nowhere. "like laundry and cinnamon."
"that was almost romantic," you teased, pretending to be unbothered by your heart, almost jumping out of your ribcage.
he reached for his tea, brushing your hand in the process. sipping from his mug, his eyebrows dancing. "almost?"
he laughed, but his heart stuttered, ‘next time?’ he thought to himself. why did i even say that. hiding his thoughts behind a smile.
from his perspective, you didn't seem to mind, you didn't make it weird. thankfully
the thunder cracked louder now, rattling the windowpane.
you checked the forecast on your phone and frowned. "yeah you're not going anywhere."
beomgyu looked up from where he had flopped dramatically across your couch, his hair still slightly damp and sticking to his forehead.
"tragic," he said, voice dry. "guess i'll have to endure your tea and fluffy blankets a little longer."
you gave him a look. "endure?"
he looked at you with his usual playful grin, hugging a throw pillow like it was a long-lost pet. "okay, luxuriate inn. happy?"
"ecstatic," you said, tossing him a second pillow to the face.
he caught it swiftly and immediately started building a pillow wall between you. "this is for my safety."
"from what?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.
"you. you're feisty when sleep-deprived. remember your mood last week."
"you literally tried to eat expired instant noodles last week."
"and i survived, didn't i?" he said proudly and had a smug smirk on his face.
"i am a man of mystery. i live on the edge."
"you live on convenience store snacks." you said and rolled your eyes. you pushed yourself off from the couch and his attention was now on you.
"you want me to grab something to sleep in?" you asked, voice soft with sleep.
he gave you a thumbs up from under the pillow fortress.
you came back with a pajama pants covered in tiny frogs, dropping it on his lap.
beomgyu's eyes lit up as he noticed the frogs. "i bet i'll still look handsome in this." his tone layered with confidence.
you rolled your eyes and shook your head slightly.
"whatever. i'm going to bed." you said after grabbing him a couple more blankets, since it was getting colder.
beomgyu nodded and prepared the couch to a comfortable bed.
"goodnight frog boy," you mumbled as you were walking towards your bedroom.
"goodnight popcorn thief." he said back. he was already laying comfortable, under the blankets and pillows.
the morning sunlight crept through the clouds, pale and hesitant casting a soft glow. the storm had finally passed.
you stirred awake to the faint clink of dishes and the sound of cupboard doors opening and closing.
you blinked a few times, sitting up slowly. your hair was a wild mess around your face. a yawn escaped from your lips and you pushed yourself up from your bed.
you padded into the kitchen, rubbing your eyes. "what are you doing?"
beomgyu turned around, spoon in his mouth and a box of cereal tucked under his arm like a prized possession. his hair was fluffy now, dry but still unbrushed, sticking up like he'd rolled straight from the couch into the pantry.
he pulled the spoon out and shrugged. "breakfast obviously."
you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "you have your own place."
"you don't have plain boring cornflakes," he said, lifting the box of choco rings slightly like it was a trophy. "you have joy."
you sighed, but your lips curved upward. "help yourself, i guess."
"oh i have been," he said with a playful wink, already reaching for a second bowl from the shelf.
the next ten minutes were filled with quiet munching and the soft sound of the morning news on low volume in the background. beomgyu sat across from you at the small kitchen table, still wearing the frog pants you'd given him the night before, like they were the peak of fashion.
"you've got milk on your chin," you said, half-smiling as you pount at him with your spoon.
beomgyu blinked, swiping at the wrong side of his face. you rolled your eyes, leaned over the table and wiped it with the corner of your sleeve.
he froze—just for a second. the kind of pause that hung in the air a beat too long. you felt it too, the sudden silence stretching between you.
"thanks." he said softy, eyes lingering on yours a little longer than usual.
you nodded, quickly looking down at your cereal. the clink of your spoon against the bowl suddenly felt too loud.
after a moment, he leaned back in his chair and tilted his head toward the window. "the sun's finally out," he said, his voice light again. "i was starting to think we'd be stuck in a tragic indie film forever."
you snorted. "you'd love that though."
he smirked. "depends. do i get the girl in the end?"
you stared at him—just a second too long. an unreadable expression on your face.
but your heart knew what was behind that expression, even if your mind was in denial.
he looked back, like he was trying to read something in your face. then he blinked and grinned, brushing it off like it was a joke. "kidding. unless you think i'd make a good male lead."
his usual teasing tone was evident in his voice.
you laughed, shaking your head. "you'd definitely cry at your own monologue."
"and steal the show," he said, eyebrows dancing, popping the last choco ring into his mouth.
you watched him, the sun catching his hair now, and something soft settled in your chest—warm and confusing.
"what?" he asked, catching your gaze.
"nothing." you said quickly. "just... your hair looks ridiculous."
"you say that like it's not my brand. and it's called trendy." he said and sent you a wink playfully, a light-hearted joke.
but why did my heart take it seriously?
୨♡୧ part one / part two / part three / bonus ୨♡୧