𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𓈒 christian!sb X fem!reader 12k+ words smut / suggestive / humor MINORS DNI
ᝰ.ᐟ religious themes sex in church bathroom dom!yn sub!sb kind of forbidden romance kissing yn rubs her feet on sb’s dick corruption kink if you squint yeonjun giving slutty advice
𝜗𝜚 𝐆𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 ៹ uhhh. Idk what to say about this lol. I’m proud of it but I feel like I always lose the plot towards the end- and it's very demotivating. Enjoy though 🤍💋
Soobin’s dorm room smelled faintly of old textbooks and laundry detergent, a scent he secretly liked. He stood in front of his half-open suitcase, carefully folding his shirts, socks, and jeans. Each fold was precise, deliberate—as if the neatness of his packing could somehow impose order on the chaos he secretly feared summer would bring.
“Man, you’re pathetic.”
Soobin’s head snapped up. Yeonjun was sprawled across his bed, one arm dangling off the side, smirking like he was auditioning for the role of devilish roommate in a soap opera. “Pathetic?” Soobin asked, raising an eyebrow as he folded a pair of socks with surgical precision.
“Yes! You! Look at you, all neatly packed and wholesome, probably daydreaming about Bible verses and your mom’s chicken pot pie,” Yeonjun said, gesturing dramatically toward the suitcase. “Meanwhile, I’ve got a summer of adventure lined up!”
“I really don’t want to hear this,” Soobin muttered, sliding a stack of shirts into the suitcase and zipping it halfway.
“Ah, don’t be such a bore. I’m just talking logistics,” Yeonjun said, leaning forward with the air of a professor about to give a lecture on debauchery. “I’ve got the beaches mapped out, bars on the rooftop scoped, and a festival calendar that’ll make you question your life choices. And yes… there are girls.” He let the word linger in the air like a taunt.
Soobin stiffened. He could feel a flush creeping up his neck. “Yeonjun—please. I don’t want to hear about your… girls.”
Yeonjun laughed, a rich, dramatic sound that bounced off the bare walls of the dorm. “Not interested? Bro, twenty-four years of careful, moral living, and you think you can dodge the reality of life forever? It’s not just about kissing someone—though, let’s be honest, that’s long overdue—it’s about experiencing the chaos, Soob!”
Soobin picked up a neatly folded pair of jeans and shoved them into the suitcase, hoping his calm, orderly movements would somehow shield him from the storm of Yeonjun’s commentary. “I’m perfectly content experiencing… textbooks and prayer,” he said dryly, zipping the side of the suitcase a little higher.
Yeonjun threw himself onto the floor dramatically, one arm across his forehead. “Textbooks and prayer? Seriously? That’s your entire summer plan? Man, you’re like a monk trapped in a human body. A very tidy monk.”
Soobin couldn’t help but let a small, exasperated laugh escape. “I think I’ll survive.”
“You think you’ll survive?” Yeonjun echoed, sitting back up and wagging a finger at him. “Soob, you’re twenty-four! You should be living a little, learning a little, maybe getting… ahem, hands-on experience.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a mock-whisper. “You know, before you end up writing a thesis on the virtues of chastity while everyone else is… well, not.”
Soobin groaned, pressing his hands to his face. “I’m not interested. And I’m not going to—”
Yeonjun clapped a hand over his mouth, gasping in mock horror. “Not going to? Oh my god, I can’t even! You’re like a living, breathing cautionary tale. Twenty-four years of avoiding fun like it’s the plague. I honestly don’t know how your parents tolerate it.”
Soobin gave him a flat look. “I think they like it.”
“Yeah, sure. They like it until they start worrying you’re never going to experience a date night or… well, anything else,” Yeonjun said, lounging back on the bed like a general surveying a battlefield. “I mean, come on, Soob. You’re going to the beach this summer, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re planning on—what—reading a Bible in the sand? Coloring in a devotional while everyone else is… sunburned and kissing?” Yeonjun laughed so hard he nearly rolled off the bed.
“I really don’t want to hear your commentary,” Soobin muttered again, zipping the last side of his suitcase.
“You’re impossible,” Yeonjun said, pointing a finger at him like he’d just discovered a new species of human. “You’re like… the poster child for un-fun. I don’t even know why we’re friends.”
Soobin tried not to smile. “Probably because you’re loud and obnoxious and relentless, and I’m too polite to kick you out of my room.”
“That’s true! You are polite.” Yeonjun leaned back with a satisfied grin. “But one day, Soob, mark my words… one day, you’ll cave. And when you do, I’ll be there to witness every glorious, scandalous moment.”
Soobin could only groan and close the suitcase fully. He thought of home, of his parents, of quiet dinners and long, predictable evenings. Peaceful, safe, ordered… predictable. Perfect.
And completely unprepared for what—or who—summer would bring.
⸻
You slump onto your bed, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling as if it might magically give you a way out of this conversation. Your parents sit across from you, both wearing those impossible “disappointed-but-calm” expressions they pull out whenever they want to remind you that you’re still a child in their eyes.
“You’re going to stay with the Chois this summer,” your father says, his voice slow and deliberate, as if speaking too fast might let you slip out some excuse.
You blink. “Wait, what? The Choi family?”
“Yes,” your mother chimes in, hands folded primly on her lap. “Mr. and Mrs. Choi have kindly agreed to host you while we’re away. It’s… for your benefit.”
You bite back a laugh. “For my benefit?”
“Yes. We think it’s necessary for you to be in a wholesome, structured environment while we’re gone,” your father says, his tone calm but firm. “After… the recent incidents, we believe it’s best if someone else keeps an eye on you for a few months.”
You groan dramatically, rolling onto your side. “Oh, because obviously hanging out at home is so dangerous. I might… I don’t know… breathe too loudly or something.”
Your mother frowns. “Y/N, don’t make light of this. We’ve already discussed the situation with your… extracurricular activities. The partying. The drinking. The… immoral behavior.”
You sit up, glaring. “Unholy behavior? Really, Mom? That’s what we’re calling it now? I was at a concert. I had a couple of drinks. And yes, I—” You catch yourself and roll your eyes. “Fine, yeah, I slept with someone. But it’s not like I’ve been sacrificing virgins or something.”
Your father pinches the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t about dramatics. This is about maintaining your integrity and… your family’s reputation. You’ve been given too much freedom, and clearly, it’s become a problem.”
You tilt your head, smirking. “So, I get punished by being sent to hang out with someone else’s obedient kid? Sounds fun.”
Your mother sighs heavily, the kind of sigh that carries all the frustration of decades. “It’s not a punishment, Y/N. The Choi family is deeply Christian, and their son is an exemplary young man. We trust that spending time with them will… help you reflect on your behavior and make better choices.”
You raise a brow. “Better choices? You mean, like, not having fun?”
“Yes,” your father says, like he just solved the world’s biggest problem. “And not… succumbing to temptation. You’ve shown a pattern of poor judgment. This summer is an opportunity for you to learn responsibility, self-discipline, and—”
“Boring,” you mutter under your breath, earning a sharp glance from your mother.
“What was that?” she asks, lips pressing into a thin line.
“Nothing, nothing,” you say quickly, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “I just… can’t wait to help with chores and recite Bible verses with them every morning. It sounds… amazing.” Your voice drips with sarcasm, and you know they can hear it.
Your parents exchange a look, the kind that makes you feel simultaneously guilty and triumphant. They clearly know you’re being deliberately difficult, but they also know they can’t make you behave through anger alone. You’ve grown too clever for that.
“Y/N,” your father says, voice firm. “We’re not asking for your opinion on this. This is not a negotiation. You will stay with the Chois. You will follow their rules. And you will behave as though you were raised in their household.”
You lean back, letting out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Sure, sure. I’ll be a model guest. Help with dinner. Smile politely. Maybe even say a few prayers if you like.”
Your mother’s jaw tightens. “We are serious, Y/N. This is for your own good.”
You nod slowly, putting on your best fake serious expression. “Yes, Mother. Father. I will be perfect. Hallelujah.”
As soon as they step out of the room, you burst into laughter, collapsing onto your bed again. They have no idea what a challenge you are. No one knows how far you’ve pushed the boundaries, how much of a ‘rebel with a cause’ you’ve become.
⸻
The drive home felt quieter than usual, the hum of the tires on the highway blending with Soobin’s thoughts. He’d packed everything neatly—shirts, jeans, a few extra sweaters his mom would insist he needed—but the quiet of the road gave him space to wonder how peaceful summer would really be.
Pulling into the familiar driveway, Soobin took a deep breath. The Choi family home hadn’t changed a bit since he’d left for college: the tidy garden, the sun catching the roof tiles just so, his father’s old car parked exactly where it always was. It felt like stepping into a photograph, safe and predictable.
He grabbed his suitcase from the trunk and started up the front path. Just as he reached the door, it swung open—and before he could even say hello, his mother was on him, hands on his cheeks, squeezing.
“My goodness! You’ve grown so much! Look at you!” she exclaimed, her tone a mix of delight and disbelief. Soobin squirmed under the affection, taller now than he’d ever been in her presence. “Six-foot-one, my little boy! Six-foot-one! You’re practically a man!”
“Eomma, you’re crushing my face,” he murmured, half-laughing, half-trying to escape the bear hug.
“Doesn’t matter! You’re perfect! You need to eat more, sleep well, study hard, and… and—oh! Do you remember your old room? I made sure it’s exactly the way you left it,” she said, still holding him captive.
His father appeared behind her with a warm smile. “Soobin, glad to see you. The house hasn’t been the same without you. Sit, tell me everything. How’s school? Friends? Are you eating enough?”
“You’re growing up too fast,” his mother said, finally releasing him. She stepped back, adjusting her apron, clearly still fussing over him even as she gestured toward the door. “Come in, come in. Let me see your suitcase, let me—oh! Wait, you’re hungry, aren’t you? You must be starving!”
He nodded, humoring her, and dragged the suitcase into the hallway. “I’ll grab my stuff and unpack, Eomma. Promise I won’t starve.”
“Good, good,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “And don’t forget to say hello to your old room. You’ll feel at home in no time.”
He made his way down the hallway to his old bedroom, suitcase in hand, and pushed open the door. That’s when he froze.
Someone was in there.
A girl, standing in the middle of the room, one hand resting on a drawer as she rifled through the top shelf of his old bookshelf. She had a mischievous tilt to her head, and she was humming under her breath like she owned the place.
“Uh—hello?” Soobin’s voice came out sharper than intended.
The girl jumped, spinning around to face him, eyes wide—but not panicked. Amused, almost. “Oh! Hi. I didn’t think anyone else was here.”
Soobin blinked. “Who… are you?”
“I’m… uh,” she said smoothly, tilting her head in a mock-thoughtful pose. “Y/N. I’m… staying here for the summer. You know… helping out. Chores, stuff like that.” She smiled sweetly, but there was a spark there that immediately set Soobin on edge. Something about her didn’t match her explanation.
Soobin straightened, feeling a strange mix of confusion and caution. “Helping out? I… didn’t know anyone was coming to stay here. My parents didn’t mention it.”
Her smile widened, just the tiniest bit of teasing in her eyes. “They didn’t? Oops. Must’ve slipped their minds.” She shrugged nonchalantly, like she’d just confessed to borrowing a pencil without asking.
Soobin’s mouth went dry. He’d imagined his summer being quiet, safe, predictable… and here was this girl, confidently standing in the middle of his old room like she had every right to be there.
“My—my stuff,” he finally stammered, gesturing to the suitcase.
“Oh! Right, right, sorry. Didn’t mean to intrude.” She stepped back, though not enough to leave. “You just have… so much cool stuff. Can’t blame me for snooping a little.”
Soobin opened his mouth to say something—and then closed it again. He had no idea what to do. Normally, he’d have asked someone to leave, politely but firmly. But there was something about her tone, the way she looked at him, that made him hesitate.
“Um… okay,” he said finally, trying to keep his voice steady. “Just… don’t touch anything too important.”
“Deal,” she said, still smiling. “Though honestly, everything’s fair game when you’re bored out of your mind, right?”
Bored out of her mind? That sounded dangerously like she wasn’t just here to help out.
Soobin tried to shove down the flutter of nerves rising in his chest. He wasn’t used to people barging into his life—or his room—without warning. And yet, there she was, completely unbothered by his presence, already scanning a drawer like she owned the place.
This was going to be… interesting.
⸻
By the time the sun began sinking low outside the kitchen window, you’d already decided that this summer was going to be boring. Predictable. Utterly lame.
It wasn’t that the Choi family wasn’t nice—they were very nice. In fact, they were so nice that you found yourself smiling and nodding so much your cheeks hurt. Mrs. Choi was warm and bubbly, bustling around the kitchen like a woman straight out of a lifestyle magazine, while Mr. Choi was kind but reserved, always polite, always perfectly pleasant. The house itself smelled faintly of laundry detergent and home-cooked meals, and everything was spotless, like no one had touched a single object since Soobin moved out for school.
Soobin.
You’d met him earlier, sort of. More like startled him.
That tall, awkward boy with the wide brown eyes and the hesitant posture—he had looked at you like you’d been caught breaking into a museum. It had been kind of funny, actually. You’d half-expected him to tell you to get out of his room, but instead he’d just stammered something about “not touching anything too important” and stood there like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.
Now, a couple of hours later, you were leaning against the kitchen counter, slicing carrots under Mrs. Choi’s supervision. You weren’t thinking about Soobin much, not really. Other than the fact that, yeah, he was tall and handsome in that soft, boyish kind of way, but he screamed “obedient, Bible-loving, probably-virgin” energy from a mile away. Definitely not your type. Definitely not someone who’d understand your world, let alone survive a weekend in it.
Still, his mother was lovely. And you knew how to play nice.
“Thank you so much for helping, sweetheart,” Mrs. Choi said, her warm voice filling the cozy kitchen. She placed a bowl of peeled potatoes on the counter in front of you. “I hope you don’t mind me putting you to work right away. I thought I’d make something special for Soobin’s first night back.”
“Of course I don’t mind,” you said sweetly, smiling at her as you took the bowl. “I like cooking.” A partial lie—you could cook, but you didn’t do it often unless someone was watching. You knew how to play the part, though: polite, helpful, the perfect guest.
Mrs. Choi beamed. “You’re such a good girl. Your mother was right—you’re just like her when she was your age. Always willing to help.”
You smiled demurely, biting back the urge to laugh. If only she knew.
“Soobin!” Mrs. Choi called suddenly, wiping her hands on a dish towel as she turned toward the hallway. “Come here, honey!”
A moment later, he appeared in the doorway. He’d changed into a plain white T-shirt and gray sweatpants, his dark hair slightly mussed from unpacking. He looked tired but still polite, like he was mentally preparing himself for a social interaction he didn’t really want to have.
“Yes, Eomma?” His deep voice was calm, polite.
Mrs. Choi clapped her hands together, smiling brightly. “I forgot to properly introduce you two earlier! I’m so sorry about that. Y/N, this is my son, Soobin. Soobin, this is Y/N. She’ll be staying with us this summer while her parents are away.”
Soobin blinked, glancing at you, and offered a small, polite smile. “Oh. Um. Hi.”
You put the knife down and smiled back. “Hey. Nice to meet you… officially.”
He nodded once, awkwardly stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Yeah. You too.”
Mrs. Choi beamed, completely oblivious to the awkwardness. “She’s been such a help already, Soob. You should thank her for keeping me company.”
Soobin cleared his throat. “Uh… thanks.”
You fought the urge to smirk. Wow. Riveting conversation skills.
Mrs. Choi clapped her hands again, completely satisfied. “Good! Now you two should get to know each other. Why don’t you sit down and talk while I finish up here?”
“Oh, I can keep helping,” you said quickly, not particularly eager to sit in silence with this boy you barely knew.
“No, no! You’ve done enough. Go on, sit. Keep him company.” She waved you toward the table.
Soobin’s lips pressed together in a polite, tight-lipped smile, and he gestured stiffly toward one of the chairs. “Uh, yeah… we can… sit.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. This guy was painfully awkward. You slid into a chair at the table, resting your elbows lightly on the surface, while Soobin sat across from you, his posture perfect and stiff, hands folded in front of him.
For a moment, neither of you said anything. The faint sound of Mrs. Choi humming to herself in the kitchen filled the silence.
“So…” you said finally, trying to be polite. “How was school this year?”
“It was fine,” he said, voice quiet.
You nodded. “That’s good.”
More silence.
You tried again. “You’re a senior, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Oh.” You gave him a faint smile. “Me too.”
Another nod.
You blinked at him. “…Cool.”
This was painful.
He seemed to realize it too because he shifted uncomfortably in his chair and cleared his throat. “Um. What… what are you studying?”
“Marketing,” you said. “You?”
“Education.”
You nodded. “Nice.”
Silence again.
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He was handsome—ridiculously handsome, actually, up close. He had this soft, delicate kind of beauty that felt almost unreal, and his height only added to it. But good looks couldn’t save him from being awkward. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
Mrs. Choi broke the tension, sweeping over to the table with a tray of side dishes. “You two are so quiet! Are you shy?” she teased, smiling between the two of you.
You forced a polite laugh. “Just… getting used to each other.”
“Well, you’ll have all summer to do that,” she said warmly, setting down bowls of rice and kimchi. “Soobin, you should show her around tomorrow. Maybe take her to the park or something.”
Soobin nodded, obedient as ever. “Yes, Eomma.”
Dinner passed much the same way—Mrs. Choi chatting cheerfully, Mr. Choi joining in with a few calm comments, while Soobin answered questions politely and you played the part of the sweet, grateful guest. You kept your voice soft, your smile bright, and made sure to say “thank you” more times than necessary.
Inside, though, you were already bored out of your mind.
When Mrs. Choi excused herself to grab dessert, Soobin glanced at you briefly, then back at his plate. He looked so stiff, so awkward, that you almost felt bad for him. Almost.
“So…” you said again, trying to fill the silence. “Do you… like school?”
He looked up, surprised by the question. “Uh… yeah. I do. It’s… good.”
You nodded slowly, biting your tongue to keep from sighing. This was going to be a long summer.
Still, there was something oddly fascinating about him. Maybe it was the way he seemed so perfectly put together, so calm and polite, like he’d never even thought about breaking a single rule in his life. He was the exact opposite of you. And maybe, just maybe, that made you want to poke at him a little.
But not tonight. Tonight, you’d play nice.
You offered him a small smile. “That’s good. Glad to hear it.”
He blinked, as if surprised by your friendliness, and gave a small, tentative smile in return.
You weren’t sure why, but that made you feel like you’d just unlocked a secret level in a game.
⸻
You wake up late the next morning, sunlight spilling through the curtains and warming your bare legs. It takes you a moment to remember where you are—this isn’t your room, your apartment, or even your parents’ house. This is Soobin’s house. Well, technically, his parents’ house. You stretch your arms over your head, yawning, your cropped tank top riding up a little as you do.
You glance at the clock on the nightstand. Nearly ten a.m. The house is quiet.
Slipping out of bed, you pull on the first thing within reach: a pair of tiny pajama shorts. You don’t bother with a bra; you’re not going anywhere. It’s summer, it’s hot, and you’re just planning to grab some breakfast before showering.
Padding barefoot down the hallway, you follow the faint smell of toast and coffee. The kitchen is cozy, sunlight pouring through the window above the sink, glinting off the polished counters. You open a cabinet, searching for cereal, completely at ease.
You don’t notice Soobin at first.
He’s standing near the stove, pouring himself coffee. His hair is still messy from sleep, his plain T-shirt wrinkled, and there’s something incredibly soft and domestic about the scene. But when he turns and sees you, he freezes. Completely.
You glance up casually, box of cereal in hand. “Morning,” you say, your voice still raspy from sleep.
Soobin makes a noise that’s somewhere between a cough and a squeak. “M-Morning.”
You blink at him, confused by the way he’s staring. Then you glance down at yourself. Tank top, shorts. Nothing new. You shrug and pour yourself some cereal, sliding into a seat at the table.
But Soobin… he’s not moving.
You watch him from the corner of your eye, amused despite yourself. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. Or maybe an alien. His wide brown eyes dart to you, then away, then back again, like he’s not sure where to look. His knuckles are white where he grips his mug, and there’s a faint pink creeping up his neck.
You smirk to yourself, spooning cereal into your mouth. He’s flustered. Very flustered.
“Soobin?” you ask, tilting your head innocently.
He jerks his gaze back to your face, blinking rapidly. “Y-Yeah?”
“Something wrong?”
“No! No, I’m fine. Totally fine. Just…” He trails off, gripping the edge of the counter like it’s his only lifeline.
You glance back down at your outfit. “Oh. Is this… inappropriate or something?”
His face flushes deeper, and he immediately looks away. “N-No! It’s… it’s fine. You’re fine.” His voice cracks slightly on the last word.
You bite your lip to keep from laughing. You hadn’t put this on to tease him; honestly, you hadn’t even thought about it. But the way he’s reacting is kind of hilarious.
“Okay,” you say lightly, taking another bite of cereal. “You seem tense.”
“I’m not tense,” he says quickly, voice a little too high.
You raise an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.”
He sets his mug down a little too hard, the sound echoing in the quiet kitchen, and clears his throat. “Do you… want some coffee?”
You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Right. Cool. Okay.” He nods stiffly, then turns back to the counter like he suddenly has very important business there.
You can’t help but grin. Poor guy looks like he’s about to pass out. You wonder if he’s ever even seen a girl dressed like this outside of a TV screen.
“You’re really jumpy in the morning,” you tease, leaning back in your chair.
His shoulders tense. “I’m not jumpy,” he mumbles, clearly lying.
You sip your milk from the bowl, watching him fumble around the kitchen, pretending to be busy. He’s tall, painfully shy, and honestly kind of adorable in his awkwardness. You’d pegged him as a lame virgin yesterday, and nothing about this scene is changing your mind.
Still… you can’t help but enjoy how easy it is to get under his skin without even trying.
⸻
You didn’t plan on teasing him at first. Really, you didn’t.
After breakfast, you’d gone back to your room, scrolled on your phone, and killed time while Soobin busied himself with… whatever it was Soobin did. Probably cleaning his already spotless room or reading something boring. The morning had been uneventful, which was fine, except uneventful was starting to feel suffocating.
Then Mrs. Choi knocked on your door and cheerfully handed you a list of errands, asking if you and Soobin could “spend some time together” while helping out. The smile she gave you made it clear it wasn’t a request.
So now you were sitting in the passenger seat of Soobin’s car, legs crossed, wearing denim shorts and a cropped top, sunglasses perched on your nose as the summer sun streamed through the windshield. Soobin sat beside you, stiff as a board, hands gripping the steering wheel like it was a test of strength.
“This is going to be fun,” you said lightly, glancing at the list. “Grocery store, dry cleaners, post office… oh, and flowers for your mom’s friend. You’re, like, the perfect son, huh?”
He gave a small, polite shrug, eyes on the road. “Just… helping out.”
You smirked. He wasn’t much of a talker, that was obvious. He answered questions in short sentences, nodded a lot, and kept his eyes forward like a soldier on a mission. Which only made you want to poke at him more.
“You drive like an old man,” you teased, leaning back in your seat.
His hands tightened on the wheel. “I drive safely.”
“Safely is boring,” you said, grinning.
He shot you a sidelong glance, his expression unreadable. “It’s better than being reckless.”
You hummed thoughtfully, turning your gaze to the road ahead. “Maybe. But reckless is more fun.”
He didn’t respond, which was answer enough. You bit back a laugh.
⸻
The first stop was the grocery store. You followed him through the aisles, pushing the cart lazily while he methodically crossed items off the list. He seemed so focused, so serious about everything he did—like picking out produce was a matter of life or death.
“You know,” you said casually, leaning on the handle of the cart, “you don’t have to look so stressed. It’s just groceries.”
“I’m not stressed,” he said without looking at you, carefully inspecting a pack of strawberries.
“You look stressed.”
He sighed softly, finally glancing at you. “Do you always talk this much?”
You grinned. “Only when I’m bored.”
“Then… stop being bored.”
“How?” you asked innocently, leaning in closer. “Entertain me.”
His ears turned pink. He turned back to the strawberries. “That’s not… my job.”
You chuckled, enjoying how flustered he was getting. You weren’t even trying that hard.
When you reached the cereal aisle, you grabbed the most colorful box you could find and tossed it into the cart. “We’re getting this.”
Soobin frowned. “That’s not on the list.”
“Yeah, but it’s fun.”
“It’s full of sugar.”
“Exactly.” You smirked, leaning against the cart. “You ever even had this kind of cereal?”
He shook his head.
You gasped dramatically. “What? You’ve been alive for twenty-four years and you’ve never had this? Your childhood was tragic.”
He gave you a look that was equal parts amused and annoyed, but he didn’t take the cereal out of the cart. Victory.
The next stop was the dry cleaners. You leaned against the counter while Soobin politely spoke to the clerk, his posture straight and formal like he was at a job interview. You found yourself watching him—noticing the way his broad shoulders filled out his T-shirt, the way he said “thank you” so earnestly it almost made your heart squeeze.
Almost.
When you got back to the car, you couldn’t resist. “You’re so polite all the time. It’s like you’re afraid of offending someone by breathing wrong.”
He shot you a sideways look, starting the car. “Is that… a bad thing?”
“No,” you said, smiling slyly. “It’s cute.”
That shut him up immediately. His ears turned pink again, and you bit back a laugh as he focused intently on backing out of the parking spot.
At the post office, you decided to turn it up a notch. While Soobin stood in line holding a small package, you wandered the aisles of random stationery, humming softly to yourself. You picked up a greeting card and handed it to him when he rejoined you.
“Look,” you said sweetly. “This one says, ‘Congratulations on Losing Your Virginity.’ Should I get it for you?”
His jaw practically dropped. He choked on air, eyes darting around to see if anyone heard you. “Wh-What?!” he hissed, his face going crimson.
You burst out laughing, holding the card to your chest. “I’m kidding! Relax. You’re so easy to mess with.”
He looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “Why would you even—”
“Because it’s funny,” you said with a shrug, putting the card back.
He exhaled sharply, muttering something under his breath that you couldn’t quite catch. You just smiled and followed him out, enjoying the fact that you’d managed to rattle him so easily.
The last stop was a small flower shop. The smell of fresh blooms filled the air as you wandered between displays, running your fingers over the petals of a bouquet. Soobin spoke quietly with the florist, choosing a tasteful arrangement, his expression calm and focused.
He was… interesting to watch, you realized. He moved carefully, deliberately, like every choice mattered. There was something endearing about it, even if it wasn’t your style.
“Here,” he said suddenly, holding out a single daisy he’d picked from a display.
You blinked. “For me?”
He nodded, looking awkward. “You… seemed bored.”
You took the flower, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks. That’s sweet of you.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly, like your approval meant something to him. You twirled the daisy between your fingers as you followed him to the register, a little amused by how shy he looked.
By the time you got home, your arms were full of grocery bags, and Soobin was juggling the flowers and dry cleaning. Mrs. Choi greeted you both at the door with her usual sunny smile, praising you for being such a “good team.”
You glanced at Soobin, who was quietly putting bags on the counter. He looked tired, but in that calm, content way. You couldn’t resist teasing him one more time.
“Hey, Soob,” you said casually, leaning against the counter.
He glanced at you, wary. “What?”
You grinned, holding up the daisy he’d given you. “You’re not so bad. Maybe running errands with you isn’t the worst way to spend an afternoon.”
His eyes widened slightly at the compliment, and he ducked his head, pretending to be busy unloading groceries. “Thanks,” he muttered.
You smiled to yourself. He was easy to fluster, easy to tease… and kind of cute when he blushed.
Maybe this summer wouldn’t be boring after all.
⸻
Soobin sat at the small desk in his childhood bedroom, phone pressed to his ear, laptop open but forgotten. His suitcase was mostly unpacked now, his old room looking almost exactly as it had when he left for college. Same neat bed, same posters of nature landscapes his mom insisted made the room “peaceful,” same stack of untouched devotionals by his nightstand.
But the familiarity didn’t settle him like it used to. Not tonight.
“She’s… staying here,” he said, his voice low, like it was some kind of confession.
On the other end of the line, Yeonjun made an amused sound, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “What do you mean, ‘she’s staying there’? Who is she?”
“Y/N. A… family friend’s daughter.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. “My parents forgot to mention she’d be living with us this summer.”
“Okay, and?” Yeonjun prompted, voice teasing. “You sound like you’re describing a hostage situation.”
“It’s not that,” Soobin muttered. “It’s just… surprising.”
“Uh-huh.” Yeonjun’s voice sharpened with interest. “Surprising because she’s…?”
Soobin hesitated. “She’s… not what I expected.”
Yeonjun immediately pounced. “Not what you expected how? Like… in a good way?”
Soobin groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I don’t know. She’s just… different.”
Yeonjun laughed, loud enough that Soobin winced and shushed him instinctively. “Ohhh, this is rich. You’ve been home for, what, a day? And there’s already some mysterious girl staying under the same roof. Bro, this is literally a setup for a rom-com. Or, like, a… bad K-drama.”
Soobin shot a nervous glance at his door, half-expecting Y/N to suddenly appear. “It’s not like that.”
“Is she cute?”
Soobin froze. His mind flashed back to that morning—the way she’d wandered into the kitchen wearing those tiny shorts, that cropped tank top, not even remotely self-conscious. He’d nearly dropped his glass of water. She’d just grabbed a bowl of cereal and sat at the counter like nothing was out of the ordinary, while he’d stood there trying to remember how to breathe.
“…Yes,” he admitted reluctantly.
Yeonjun cackled. “I knew it. Okay, describe her.”
“No.”
“Come on!”
“No, Yeonjun.”
“Fine, I’ll guess,” Yeonjun said dramatically. “She’s probably hot, effortlessly cool, a little rebellious. The type your parents would not approve of. Am I close?”
Soobin stayed quiet.
Yeonjun gasped theatrically. “Oh my god, I nailed it, didn’t I?”
Soobin sighed heavily. “She’s… really different from me.”
“Well, yeah,” Yeonjun said with a snort. “Everyone’s different from you, Soob. You’re like… a walking hymn book.”
“Thanks,” Soobin said dryly.
“You’re welcome. Anyway, sounds like she’s exactly what you need.”
Soobin frowned, sitting up straighter. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Yeonjun said, his voice suddenly sly, “this summer is the perfect time for you to, you know… loosen up a little. Maybe learn a thing or two from her.”
Soobin’s stomach flipped. “Yeonjun…”
“I’m just saying!” Yeonjun’s laughter bubbled through the phone again. “You’ve been locked up in libraries and Bible studies your whole life. You’ve been what, single since birth? Don’t you think it’s time you—”
“No.” Soobin’s voice was firm, but he could feel his ears burning.
“No, what? No, you won’t even think about it?”
“She’s… she’s not like that. And I’m not like that,” Soobin said, flustered. “She’s just… staying here. That’s it.”
“Uh-huh,” Yeonjun said, clearly not convinced. “Let me guess. She’s flirty, huh? The kind of girl who knows she’s pretty?”
Soobin’s mind betrayed him again, replaying scenes from earlier that day—her sly smile when she teased him at the post office, the way she’d called him “not so bad” with that little grin. He’d felt warm all over, and not just from embarrassment.
“She… teases a lot,” he admitted.
“Classic,” Yeonjun said smugly. “She’s bored, Soob. Girls like that love making shy guys squirm. And you, my friend, are the perfect target. Tall, polite, sweet, probably never even—”
“Yeonjun,” Soobin interrupted sharply, already knowing where that sentence was going.
Yeonjun burst out laughing. “I’m right though, aren’t I?”
Soobin pinched the bridge of his nose. “This conversation is over.”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Yeonjun’s laughter was wheezy now, but he managed to get a few words out. “Just… think about it, okay? Maybe this summer’s your chance to, like, live a little. Stop being afraid of girls. Or, I don’t know, hold hands with someone before you hit thirty.”
Soobin groaned. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love me,” Yeonjun shot back. “Anyway, seriously. She sounds hot. Hook up with her.”
Soobin choked. “What?! No!”
“Why not?”
“Because!” Soobin lowered his voice, glancing at the door again. “She’s staying here. With my parents. That would be… wrong.”
Yeonjun snorted. “Only if you get caught.”
Soobin’s jaw dropped. “Yeonjun!”
“I’m kidding. Mostly.” Yeonjun laughed again, clearly delighted by Soobin’s horror. “But seriously, don’t be such a monk, man. It’s just a thought.”
Soobin ran a hand through his hair, feeling like his face was on fire. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re blushing, aren’t you?”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Fine, fine,” Yeonjun said, still laughing. “But call me when something happens. And it will happen. I can feel it in my bones.”
“Nothing’s going to happen,” Soobin muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.
“Sure,” Yeonjun said, clearly not believing him. “Night, lover boy.”
Soobin ended the call, tossing his phone onto the desk with a groan.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Nothing was going to happen. Y/N was just a guest. A… very pretty guest, with a sharp tongue and a mischievous smile, who had somehow already thrown his entire sense of calm off balance.
But that didn’t mean anything.
Right?
⸻
The house was quiet in that cozy, suburban way that made Soobin feel like a teenager again—like he was tiptoeing around to avoid waking his parents, even though they weren’t even home. They’d gone to some Bible study group for the evening, leaving him and Y/N alone for the first time.
He’d spent the last hour holed up in his room, trying to read, but every sound from downstairs had him glancing at his door. The occasional laugh, the clink of something in the kitchen. He assumed Y/N was scrolling through her phone or watching TV. He told himself he didn’t care.
Until he heard a male voice.
With an accent.
Soobin frowned, setting his book down and straining to listen. The voice had that breezy Australian lilt, casual and low. He heard Y/N laugh softly, and something about that laugh made his stomach twist—not in a pleasant way.
He got up, moving quietly to his door and cracking it open.
The murmur of conversation drifted up the stairs, followed by the unmistakable sound of kissing.
Soobin froze.
No. No way.
His parents’ house was sacred territory. A safe, orderly place where chaos wasn’t allowed to creep in. And here was this stranger—a guy with an accent, no less—probably with his hands all over their guest on the living room couch.
Soobin’s ears burned. He wasn’t sure if it was anger, embarrassment, or both, but his legs carried him down the stairs before he’d even decided what he was going to say.
And then he saw them.
Y/N was straddling the guy’s lap, her tiny pajama shorts riding up, one hand fisted in his hair as they kissed like they were alone in some dark club, not his parents’ pristine living room. The guy—Jake, Soobin vaguely recalled hearing her mention his name earlier—had a hand on her thigh, fingers creeping higher.
Soobin’s entire brain short-circuited.
“Y/N!” His voice came out sharper than he intended.
She startled, pulling away from Jake with a look of irritation. “What?”
Jake turned too, clearly unbothered, and flashed Soobin a lazy grin. “Hey.”
“Get out.” The words left Soobin’s mouth before he could soften them.
Jake blinked. “Huh?”
“You need to leave. Now,” Soobin said, standing straighter, his height casting a long shadow over the scene. He crossed his arms, trying to channel his father’s no-nonsense tone.
Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“My parents wouldn’t like this,” Soobin said firmly, ignoring how stiff he sounded. “You… you can’t just invite some guy over and—” His voice faltered as he gestured vaguely toward Jake.
Jake laughed under his breath. “Relax, bro.”
“No,” Soobin said, his voice deepening. “Out. Now.”
For a moment, Jake just stared at him, sizing him up. But Soobin was 6’1, broad-shouldered, and visibly pissed. After a beat, Jake huffed a laugh, disentangling himself from Y/N. “Alright, alright. No need to get your panties in a twist.”
Y/N stood abruptly, glaring at Soobin. “Jake, wait—”
But Jake was already heading for the door, grabbing his jacket off the couch. He shot Y/N an apologetic look, then gave Soobin a mocking salute as he slipped out.
The door clicked shut, and the silence that followed was deafening.
Y/N whirled on Soobin. “What the hell is your problem?”
Soobin swallowed, his pulse still hammering in his ears. “My problem is that you were about to—” He stopped himself, cheeks flushing bright red. “You can’t just… do that in my parents’ house.”
She crossed her arms, her glare sharp enough to cut glass. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
“You—” He sputtered, motioning to the couch. “You were practically—” He stopped again, his ears burning.
She smirked suddenly, stepping closer. “Practically what, Soobin?” Her voice was teasing now, low and slow, and the way she said his name made his chest feel tight.
Soobin took a step back instinctively, his back hitting the edge of the dining table. “That’s not… you can’t just… It’s disrespectful.”
She tilted her head, her smirk widening. “Disrespectful? Wow. You’re really that uptight, huh?”
“I’m not uptight,” he said quickly, though the heat in his face betrayed him.
“Yes, you are.” She took another step closer, and he caught the faint scent of her perfume—sweet and a little spicy, like vanilla with a kick. It made his pulse race even faster.
“You really are, like, the perfect little church boy, huh?” she teased.
Soobin bristled, jaw tightening. “There’s nothing wrong with… with having standards.”
She raised a brow. “Standards, huh? Or are you just scared?”
“Scared of what?” he asked defensively.
“Girls,” she said simply, smiling like she’d just checkmated him.
Soobin’s breath hitched. “I’m not scared of girls.”
“You’re acting like you are.” She stepped even closer, close enough that he could see the mischief glittering in her eyes. She was testing him, pushing buttons she knew would get a reaction.
And oh, she was getting one.
Soobin’s hands flexed at his sides, his body going rigid. He wanted to say something—anything—to regain control of the situation, but his mind was blank. All he could focus on was how close she was, the way her tank top clung to her curves, the bare length of her legs, and the fact that he’d just kicked out a guy she clearly wanted to be with.
“You really are no fun,” she murmured, leaning in just enough to make his breath hitch. Her lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. “You should’ve joined us. Might’ve loosened you up.”
Soobin froze, every nerve in his body going haywire. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.
Y/N laughed softly, clearly pleased with herself, and pulled back. “Relax, Soob. I’m just teasing.” She turned on her heel and sauntered toward the stairs, her hips swaying just enough to make him swallow hard.
“Goodnight,” she tossed over her shoulder, voice dripping with amusement.
Soobin stood rooted to the spot long after she disappeared upstairs, his heart pounding and his body buzzing with a confusing mix of anger, embarrassment, and something he didn’t want to name.
He glanced at the couch, where her legs had been tangled with Jake’s moments ago. The thought made his stomach knot.
This was going to be a long summer.
⸻
You couldn’t sleep.
Again.
The Choi house was too quiet. No muffled music from the neighbors, no occasional hum of traffic, no comforting chaos. Just stillness. A holy, suburban kind of stillness that felt suffocating. You’d been scrolling on your phone for an hour, bored out of your mind, lying in a bed that didn’t smell like home.
Your gaze drifted to the clock on your nightstand. 1:36 a.m.
You sighed and tossed your phone onto the bed. If you stayed in here any longer, you’d lose your mind.
So, naturally, you thought of Soobin.
Your lips curled into a mischievous smile. The perfect, polite, boring Choi Soobin. Always blushing whenever you teased him. Always tense around you, like you were some sort of test he was terrified to fail. He was such an easy target.
The thought of messing with him was way too tempting.
You slipped out of bed, your bare feet quiet on the carpet, and padded down the hallway. The house was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a lamp in the hallway. You knew which door was his—second on the left, the one you’d been snooping in on your first day here, him catching you.
You grinned at the memory as you gently turned the doorknob.
The door creaked open just enough for you to slip inside. You expected him to be asleep, maybe snoring softly in his perfect little bed, hair neatly arranged like he was starring in a toothpaste commercial.
What you didn’t expect was… this.
Soobin was lying in bed, shirtless, his long, lean frame illuminated by the glow of his phone screen on the nightstand. His hand was shoved down the waistband of his sweatpants, his hips barely moving—but it was obvious what he was doing.
Your lips parted in surprise, but you didn’t back out. You stayed frozen in the doorway, eyes wide, watching.
“Soo-…” His name almost slipped out of your mouth, but you caught yourself, biting your lip to stifle a laugh.
His head was tilted back against the pillows, lips parted, breathing uneven. And—oh god—he was muttering.
“Forgive me… Lord, forgive me… please…”
You had to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing. He wasn’t just jerking off. He was praying while he jerked off.
You felt a wicked thrill shoot through you. This was gold. You’d thought he was a shy virgin before, but now you knew it. The perfect church boy, caught red-handed in the most sinful act of all.
And the way he was trembling, whispering little apologies under his breath… it was almost cute. Almost.
You leaned against the doorframe, smirking, and finally spoke. “Soobin.”
The sound of your voice made him jolt violently. His eyes flew open, and he scrambled to yank his hand out of his sweatpants, fumbling for his blanket to cover himself.
“Y-Y/N!” he stammered, his face going crimson. “What are you—why are you—get out!”
You crossed your arms, enjoying every second of his panic. “Wow,” you said, your voice dripping with amusement. “And here I thought you were too holy for stuff like this.”
His jaw dropped. “I—I wasn’t—”
“Praying while you jerk off?” you teased, tilting your head. “That’s… impressive, Soob. Multi-tasking.”
He groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Please leave.”
But you weren’t leaving. Not yet. This was too fun. You sauntered over, plopping yourself on the edge of his bed like you owned the place. He flinched, scooting back against the headboard, clutching the blanket to his chest like it was a shield.
“Relax,” you said with a smirk. “I’m not gonna bite.”
“Y/N…” His voice was strained, almost pleading. “Please don’t—don’t say anything to my parents. They’d…” He trailed off, looking absolutely horrified.
“Ohhh, I know they’d freak out,” you said, leaning closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “Sweet, perfect Soobin, their pride and joy… praying himself off at one in the morning.”
“Stop,” he groaned, covering his face again.
You chuckled. “You’re adorable.”
He peeked at you through his fingers, scowling. “This isn’t funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” you teased. Then your smirk widened. “You know… I could tell them. I could march right downstairs and say, ‘Mrs. Choi, guess what your son’s been doing instead of reading Bible verses.’”
Soobin’s eyes widened in pure panic. “You wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t I?” you purred.
His mouth opened, but no words came out. He looked terrified.
You leaned in closer, so close he could probably smell your shampoo. “Unless, of course, you promise not to tell them I had Jake over the other night.”
He blinked, then frowned. “That’s blackmail.”
You shrugged. “It’s insurance.”
Soobin’s jaw clenched. “Fine,” he muttered. “I won’t say anything.”
You grinned triumphantly. “Good boy.”
His entire face turned bright red at that, and you couldn’t help laughing softly. He looked like he wanted to disappear.
“Relax,” you said again, patting his knee through the blanket. “Your secret’s safe with me, Soob.”
He stiffened at your touch but didn’t pull away. You tilted your head, studying him. His hair was messy, falling into his eyes. His chest rose and fell rapidly under the blanket, and even though he’d stopped touching himself, his arousal was obvious—he was still hard.
You bit your lip to stifle a grin.
“Cute,” you murmured, your voice soft enough to make him flinch again.
“Stop,” he whispered, his voice tight.
You leaned back, smirking. “Fine. I’ll stop.” You stood, smoothing your tank top, and shot him a wicked grin over your shoulder. “Goodnight, Soobin. Sweet dreams.”
His eyes followed you all the way to the door, wide and wary, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.
You slipped out of his room, closing the door quietly behind you, and padded back to your room with a satisfied smile.
If he thought this was bad, he had no idea what you had in store for him next.
⸻
You were already seated at the kitchen table when Soobin walked in the next morning, looking like he’d barely slept a wink. His hair was damp from a quick shower, his T-shirt slightly wrinkled, and he wouldn’t even look at you.
Perfect.
Mrs. Choi was bustling around the kitchen, humming softly as she placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of you. “Eat up, sweetheart,” she said kindly, before glancing at Soobin. “And you! You’re finally awake. Sleep well, honey?”
Soobin muttered something that vaguely resembled “yeah,” and sat across from you, rubbing at his eyes.
You smirked over the rim of your coffee mug. “Morning, Soob.”
He froze at the nickname, his shoulders tensing, but he only gave a stiff nod in reply. He wasn’t going to make this fun for you, huh? Well, that was fine. You had other ways of entertaining yourself.
“Soobin,” his mom said cheerfully as she sat down next to you. “Would you mind saying grace for us?”
He immediately straightened in his seat, folding his long fingers together. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he cleared his throat and bowed his head, reciting the prayer softly.
You didn’t bow your head. You just watched him, a slow smile playing at your lips. His voice was steady, calm… but you noticed the faint pink creeping up his neck. He knew you were watching him. He felt your eyes on him.
When he finished, his mom beamed at him and started eating. You picked up your fork but couldn’t resist leaning forward slightly, lowering your voice so only he could hear.
“You pray so well, Soobin,” you murmured. “I wonder if you were praying for the same thing last night.”
The way his entire body went rigid was delicious.
His eyes flicked up to yours, wide, panicked, and then darted to his mom to make sure she hadn’t heard. She was busy spreading butter on her toast, oblivious.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, voice strained.
You smirked, swirling your fork in your scrambled eggs. “Sure you don’t.”
His face turned bright red, and he focused intently on his plate, shoving a bite of toast in his mouth like it would save him.
Mrs. Choi glanced between the two of you, smiling. “I’m so glad you two are getting along,” she said warmly.
You hid a grin behind your mug. Oh, if only she knew.
“Yeah,” you said sweetly. “We’re… getting to know each other pretty well.”
Soobin choked on his toast.
His mom immediately fussed over him, handing him a glass of water. He waved her off, coughing into his fist, and when his gaze flicked up at you, it was sharp. A warning.
You just raised an eyebrow, enjoying every second.
After a moment, he leaned closer across the table, his voice low and shaky but tinged with something that almost sounded like defiance. “Careful,” he murmured. “Wouldn’t want me mentioning… Jake, would you?”
Your smirk faltered for a second. Oh?
He actually had a little bite to him.
Interesting.
You tilted your head, considering him. His face was red, but his gaze was steady in a way that surprised you. It was almost… hot.
You leaned back in your chair, a slow smile spreading across your lips. “You’re learning, Soob,” you whispered.
Then you stretched your leg under the table.
He flinched when your toes brushed against his shin.
He froze, staring at his plate, gripping his fork so tightly his knuckles turned white. You bit your lip, stifling a laugh as you slowly dragged your foot higher, along the length of his calf, up his thigh…
He inhaled sharply, his entire body stiffening.
“Soobin, honey, can you pass the jam?” his mom asked casually.
“Uh—yeah,” he croaked, fumbling for the jar and nearly knocking over his water glass.
You bit your cheek to keep from laughing. This was too good.
You let your foot settle in his lap, toes brushing against the obvious bulge beneath his pajama pants. You hadn’t expected him to be hard already, but the moment your toes grazed him, his breath hitched audibly.
You stilled.
Holy shit.
You could feel him. Thick, heavy, even through the fabric of his pants.
You blinked, caught off guard for a moment, before a slow, wicked smile curled your lips. Well, well, well. No wonder he was so shy.
“Soobin,” you whispered, just for him. “You’re… big.”
His entire body jerked, and he ducked his head, ears burning crimson.
“Y/N,” he hissed under his breath, voice strangled.
“What’s wrong?” you murmured innocently, pressing your foot down more firmly against him, rubbing along his length.
He squeezed his eyes shut, his fork trembling in his hand. “S-stop…” he whispered.
But he didn’t push you away.
You felt a thrill shoot through you at the realization. For all his protests, for all his shame, Soobin wasn’t stopping you.
You leaned forward slightly, your voice a soft, sultry whisper meant to torment him. “You really want me to stop?”
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He didn’t answer.
Your grin widened.
Mr. Choi, completely unaware of the battle happening under his kitchen table, calmly asked Soobin about his plans for the day. He stammered through a vague response, his voice strained and higher than usual.
You slid your foot up and down his length slowly, teasingly, feeling him twitch beneath your touch. You couldn’t stop smiling. The power you had over him was intoxicating.
He was flushed, sweating lightly, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark. You could tell he was holding on by a thread.
“Y/N,” he whispered again, his voice breaking this time. “Please…”
You tilted your head, pretending to consider his plea.
“Please what?” you whispered back, pressing your toes firmly against the outline of his cock.
He let out a tiny, strangled sound that made you shiver. You’d bet anything this was the first time anyone had ever touched him like this. And God, he was huge.
You pulled your foot back suddenly, leaving him panting and wide-eyed.
“Be a good boy, Soob,” you whispered with a smirk, stabbing a piece of scrambled egg with your fork. “Wouldn’t want your mom to find out what a pervert you are.”
He glared at you weakly, but his entire face was still red, and he was obviously struggling to calm down, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
Mrs. Choi smiled warmly at both of you, oblivious. “I’m so glad you two are spending time together. It makes me so happy.”
You gave her your sweetest smile, all innocence. “Oh, we’re definitely spending time together, Mrs. Choi.”
Soobin looked like he might die.
And you? You couldn’t wait to see how far you could push him next.
⸻
Soobin was pacing his room like he was about to have a nervous breakdown.
The week had been hell. Pure, unfiltered torture disguised as polite smiles and quiet breakfasts. He’d gone home for the summer expecting a few months of peace—visiting family, catching up on sleep, maybe reading a few books. He’d thought that would be safe.
Instead, every waking moment was haunted by her.
Y/N.
The sweet, church-going, well-mannered guest his mom adored. The one who helped set the dinner table every night and cleaned dishes without being asked. The one who dressed modestly when his parents were around, all demure smiles and soft laughter that made her seem like a model daughter-in-law.
But the second they were alone, she turned into…
Soobin groaned, dragging his hands down his face. He didn’t even want to think about what she turned into when his parents weren’t looking.
He plopped down on his bed, grabbing his phone. He needed to vent. There was only one person he could call about this without dying of shame.
“Yo,” came Yeonjun’s voice after a single ring. “Aren’t you supposed to be in, like, Christian suburbia right now?”
Soobin let out a long, miserable sigh. “I am.”
There was a pause. “You sound like you’re about to cry,” Yeonjun said, amused. “What happened? Did your mom make you lead a Bible study or something?”
Soobin flopped back on his pillow, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s… Y/N.”
There was silence on the other end for a moment, and then Yeonjun snorted. “The girl staying with your family? The one you said was sweet and polite?”
There was a pause, followed by a loud laugh that made Soobin’s face burn. “Oh my God, tell me everything right now,” Yeonjun cackled.
Soobin groaned again, curling into himself like a wounded animal. “She’s… she keeps… teasing me.”
“Teasing you?”
“Yes! She—she came into the kitchen the other day wearing barely anything! And she… she—” He swallowed, his face going nuclear red at the memory. “She touched me. At the breakfast table.”
Yeonjun burst out laughing so loudly Soobin had to pull the phone away from his ear.
“Bro,” Yeonjun wheezed, “you’re telling me this girl is flirting with you and you’re calling it harassment?”
Soobin sat up, glaring at the wall. “It is harassment! She’s—she’s not supposed to—”
“She touched your dick under the table, didn’t she?”
Soobin choked. “Y-Yeonjun!”
“Dude.” Yeonjun was still laughing, but his voice had an edge of disbelief now. “You sound like a Victorian maiden clutching his pearls. What is wrong with you? She’s obviously into you!”
Soobin groaned, burying his face in his hands. “She’s… she’s not! She’s just… she’s messing with me. She thinks it’s funny. And it’s working! I can’t even look at her without—” He broke off, too humiliated to finish.
“Without popping a boner?” Yeonjun supplied helpfully.
“Yeonjun!”
“What? Am I wrong?”
Soobin made a strangled noise, tugging at his hair in frustration.
Yeonjun sighed like a tired older brother. “Soobin. Buddy. You’re twenty-four. Not fourteen. This isn’t sexual harassment. This is a girl throwing herself at you and you being too scared to do anything about it.”
“I’m not scared!”
“You’re terrified,” Yeonjun said flatly. “You’re acting like kissing her will send you to hell.”
Soobin flopped back onto the bed again, staring at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above him. “Yeonjun, she’s… she’s not just any girl. She’s staying with my family. My parents love her. They think she’s perfect. If they found out she’s… like that…”
Yeonjun chuckled. “Like what? Hot? Horny? Into you?”
Soobin groaned into his pillow.
Yeonjun’s tone softened slightly, though there was still teasing underneath. “Soobin. Be honest. You like her, don’t you?”
Soobin froze.
His mouth opened, but no words came out.
“You do,” Yeonjun said, amused. “You like her. You wouldn’t be this freaked out if you didn’t.”
“I… I don’t…”
“Liar.”
Soobin sat up, glaring at the phone like Yeonjun could see him. “I don’t like her! She’s… she’s awful! She makes fun of me all the time, and she—she smirks when she knows she’s making me uncomfortable, and she won’t stop! She’s not… she’s not even nice!”
“You’re obsessed with her.”
“I’m not!”
“You are.”
“I—” Soobin stopped, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “…Maybe I am.”
There was a beat of silence, and then Yeonjun chuckled. “That’s more like it. Took you long enough to admit it.”
Soobin collapsed back onto the bed with a groan. “What do I do?”
“Easy. You fuck her.”
Soobin sat up so fast he almost dropped his phone. “WHAT?!”
“You heard me.”
“Yeonjun!”
“What?” Yeonjun sounded completely unbothered. “You’re both adults. She clearly wants you. You clearly want her. Why are you torturing yourself?”
Soobin’s face was burning so hot he thought he might combust. “Because! Because I’m… I’ve never… I don’t…”
“Because you’re still a virgin?”
Soobin made a noise of pure humiliation.
Yeonjun snorted. “So what? You think she’s gonna care? Dude, if anything, she’s probably into that. Girls love being someone’s first. It’s hot.”
Soobin covered his face with his hands. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”
“Believe it. And listen to me carefully, Soob. You’ve spent your whole life being this good, obedient Christian boy. Your parents are saints. You’ve never done anything wrong. But you’re twenty-four. You’re allowed to want things. You’re allowed to want her.”
Soobin bit his lip, staring at the ceiling. His heart was pounding.
“You’re not gonna go to hell for having sex,” Yeonjun continued. “Trust me. I’ve had plenty, and God hasn’t struck me down yet.”
“That’s… not comforting,” Soobin muttered.
Yeonjun laughed. “Look. All I’m saying is, stop torturing yourself. She’s not gonna stop teasing you. She’s making you crazy. Sooner or later, you’re gonna snap. And honestly? Maybe that’s what you need.”
Soobin groaned, rolling onto his stomach. “Yeonjun…”
“Yeah?”
“…What if I mess it up?” he mumbled into his pillow.
Yeonjun’s voice softened, losing some of its teasing edge. “You won’t. You’re Soobin. You overthink everything. She wouldn’t be teasing you this much if she didn’t really like you. She wants you, dude. You just have to let yourself want her back.”
Soobin closed his eyes, his chest tight.
He hated how much sense Yeonjun made.
⸻
Sunday morning was already off to a slow, painful start.
You’d been up late scrolling on your phone, the glow from your screen keeping you awake long past midnight, and the knock on your door at 8 a.m. had been a rude awakening.
“Y/N, sweetie? Time to get up for church,” Soobin’s mom called through the door, voice sing-song sweet.
You’d groaned into your pillow but forced yourself to get up. Church. Of course. You’d gone to church enough as a kid to know the drill, and while your parents still dragged you occasionally, you hadn’t stepped foot in a pew for months. Years, maybe. It had always been boring, and now? Torture.
You slipped into a modest dress from the stack your mom had packed for you—one of those high-necked, floral things she loved. You hadn’t even brought anything scandalous this week; your parents had practically triple-checked your suitcase before letting you leave.
When you came downstairs, Soobin was already at the kitchen table, dressed in a crisp white shirt and black slacks, hair neatly parted. He looked like he’d stepped out of a church brochure, all tall, angelic awkwardness.
“Morning,” he’d mumbled, glancing up from his coffee. He’d looked at you for a moment too long before quickly dropping his gaze to his mug.
You’d smirked to yourself, enjoying the way he couldn’t look at you without blushing, even when you were fully covered. It was… cute. Pathetic, but cute.
The ride to church was uneventful, though you caught Soobin glancing at you in the rearview mirror a few times. His parents chatted about some neighborhood barbecue, his mom asking you polite questions about school and complimenting your dress, while you smiled sweetly and lied through your teeth. You were good at that by now.
When you arrived, you plastered on your best “holy” smile as his parents introduced you to half the congregation. You shook hands, made polite small talk, and sat in the pew next to Soobin.
And then the boredom set in.
The choir sang. The pastor droned on about forgiveness and sin. You shifted in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs, your mind drifting.
You glanced at Soobin beside you. He was sitting up straight, hands folded neatly on his lap, listening intently. Of course he was.
You couldn’t help but smirk. He was so… good. So obedient. Even now, after a week of your teasing, he was sitting like a picture-perfect Christian boy.
Your gaze lingered on him a little too long, tracing the slope of his jaw, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. He was painfully handsome in a way that made your chest feel tight.
And then, as if God himself was listening, Soobin shifted. He leaned down slightly, murmured something to his mom, and then slipped out of the pew.
Bathroom break.
You bit your lip, your heart racing.
This was your chance.
⸻
You waited a minute, pretending to flip through the hymnal, then leaned over to Soobin’s mom. “Excuse me,” you whispered, offering her a polite smile. “I’m just gonna run to the bathroom.”
She nodded without suspicion, and you slipped out of the pew, smoothing your skirt as you walked casually toward the back of the sanctuary.
Once you were out of view, your pace quickened. You spotted Soobin disappearing into the men’s restroom down the hallway and smirked. Perfect.
When you pushed open the bathroom door, Soobin nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Y/N?!” he hissed, eyes wide. He was standing by the sinks, washing his hands. “You—You can’t be in here!”
You leaned against the wall, smirking. “Relax, Soob. No one’s out here.”
His jaw dropped slightly at the nickname. You’d only called him that a few times this week, always in private, always with that teasing lilt. And every time, it had made him blush.
He took a step back, looking like a deer in headlights. “What… what are you doing?”
You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “I was bored.”
He blinked at you like he couldn’t comprehend that answer. “So you… followed me into the bathroom?”
You shrugged. “Why not?”
His mouth opened, then closed again, like he wanted to scold you but couldn’t find the words. You stepped closer, watching him tense.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said softly.
“I… I haven’t.”
“You have.” You smiled, slow and knowing. “You’ve barely said two words to me all morning.”
Soobin flushed, glancing away. “We… we’re in church.”
“So?”
He looked back at you, eyes wide. “So… we’re in church!”
You laughed quietly, stepping closer until his back hit the wall. He froze, his breath hitching.
“You’re so dramatic,” you murmured, looking up at him. “What’s the big deal, Soobin? Afraid God’s watching?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Y/N…”
You reached up, brushing your fingers lightly over his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch. “You’ve been so tense all week,” you whispered. “I bet you haven’t stopped thinking about me.”
His eyes widened, and his lips parted, but he didn’t answer.
You smirked. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
He squeezed his eyes shut like he was in pain. “You… you can’t…”
“I can’t what?” you teased, leaning up so your lips brushed his ear. “Touch you?”
His breath hitched audibly.
You trailed your hand lower, fingers skimming down his stomach, stopping just above his belt. His entire body stiffened.
“Y/N…” His voice cracked, barely above a whisper.
You smiled, leaning back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were wide, glassy with panic—or maybe anticipation. Probably both.
“Relax, Soobin,” you murmured, your voice soft but teasing. “No one’s gonna know.”
You sank to your knees in front of him, and his face was red enough to rival a tomato.
“Wait…” Soobin glances at the door as you take off his belt.
You pause just to let him lock it before you tug down his slacks, which makes him yelp quietly.
You smirk at the sight of his big cock straining against his boxers. “So you do like this.”
Soobin doesn’t have time to respond before you’re tugging down his boxers as well.
He was trembling, his hands gripping the edge of the counter so tightly his knuckles were white.
You looked up at him, smirking at how utterly wrecked he already seemed, and murmured, “You’re so cute like this.”
He whimpered—a sound so soft you almost didn’t catch it—and your smirk widened.
The thrill of doing something so wrong in a church bathroom making your pulse race.
It only took one slow lick from his balls to his tip to have him moan in surprise. His cock felt heavy and hot against your tongue, the taste of his slightly salty pre-cum filling your taste buds as you swirl your tongue around his red tip.
You ignore his noises and worries to attempt to deep throat him in one go. Bad idea. As soon as his tip touched the back of your throat, you gagged just a little and pulled back.”
“A-Are you ok?!” Soobin asks, panicking a little bit.
“Yeah.” You nod quickly, redeeming yourself by just sucking what you could take.
Soobin moaned more loudly, his hips twitching towards your mouth.
Feeling his pleasure, you lift your hands to stroke what wasn’t in your mouth.
Soobin was a mess, trying desperately to stay quiet, his head tipped back against the wall, hands shaking.
You knew he was going to cum already, and you couldn’t blame him. So you hum a little as you bob your head and suck him harder, enough to make the poor man’s thighs shake.
He tried to push your head away because he didn’t wanna finish in your mouth or your face or anything “disrespectful”.
But you loved disrespectful. So you made sure not to get pushed away so you could swallow every drop of his pure virgin cum.
When you pull away, your lips leave his cock with a pop noise. You look up at Soobin, licking your lips.
His expression was wrecked. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his cheeks bright red, eyes glassy with disbelief. “You…” His voice cracked, and he shut his mouth quickly, like even speaking was too much.
You stood, grabbing his shirt to pull him down into a kiss. He made a soft, startled noise against your mouth, and you smiled, deepening the kiss until he finally kissed you back, clumsy and desperate.
You pushed him gently toward one of the stalls, guiding him inside and locking the door behind you. His back hit the wall again, and you grinned at his wide-eyed, dazed expression.
“Sit,” you whispered, giving his chest a little push.
He obeyed instantly, dropping onto the closed toilet seat with a thud, still looking like he couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Y/N, we… we can’t…” His voice was shaky, but he didn’t stop you when you straddled his lap, hiking up your dress just enough to settle over him.
You smirked, leaning in close, your lips brushing his ear. “You don’t want me to stop.”
A soft, broken sound escaped his throat, and you felt him tense beneath you.
“Y/N…” he whispered again, but it was less of a protest this time and more of a plea.
You smiled, cupping his jaw and kissing him deeply. He kissed back like he was starving, his hands hovering awkwardly at your waist like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you.
You guided him gently, whispering soft encouragement, your teasing tone melting into something sultry as you coaxed him to relax.
You lowered yourself slowly, inch by inch, feeling him stretch you in a way that made your breath hitch. His cock, long and thick as you’d imagined, filled you completely. You gasped at the sensation, clutching his chest for balance.
“F-fuck…” he groaned, voice breaking, hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you’d fall off. “I—don’t—don’t move yet.”
“Relax, virgin,” you teased, bouncing lightly on him. “You’re mine now.”
The first slow grind sent shivers up both your spines. His body tensed beneath yours with every tiny movement, each gasp, each soft curse from him fueling your own fire. You leaned forward, hands tangling in his hair, pressing your lips against his temple.
“You’re so fucking big,” you whispered. “I can feel every inch of you. God, I could ride you forever.”
He whimpered, fingers tightening in your hair. “I-I… I’ve never… felt… anyone…”
“Good,” you breathed, bouncing a little faster. “Then let me show you how it feels.”
With that, you began to move in earnest, rocking your hips over him, your body controlling the rhythm now. He groaned loudly, head falling back, eyes half-closed, utterly undone by your touch. Every grind made his muscles tense and release, every moan that escaped his lips sending a thrill straight through you.
“Faster,” he gasped suddenly, voice cracking. “Please… oh god—faster…”
You smirked, riding him harder, leaning forward to bite at his shoulder, teasing, cruel in the way only you could be. “You’re such a good boy for me,” you murmured, “learning your body like this… like I own it.”
His hips jerked wildly under you, hands gripping your sides, nails digging into your skin. You could feel his cock pulsing, every inch of him straining against you as you rode him.
“Y/N… I—I’m gonna—” His voice broke into a whimper, chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Oh, you’re gonna?” you teased, slowing just slightly to let him beg. “You’re not allowed to cum without me telling you to.”
He moaned, desperate, “Please… please, I can’t—I can’t hold it…”
You leaned down, lips brushing his ear. “Beg for it,” you whispered, tone harsh but wet with amusement. “Beg me, Soobin. Beg me to let you cum.”
“I-I… Y/N… please… please let me cum for you…” he whimpered, trembling beneath you, the tight coil of his tension about to snap.
You smiled cruelly, letting your hips roll one last time over him, feeling him explode inside you, his first release messy and overwhelming. His moans filled the room, guttural and raw, shaking your name over and over. You sank down onto him, letting him ride out his orgasm as your own shivers coursed through you, every nerve alive.
When he finally stilled, panting and slick with sweat, you leaned down, kissing his forehead lightly.
“You did so well,” you said softly, voice almost gentle now. “That’s what happens when you trust someone like me.”
He looked up at you, wide-eyed, still trembling, still overwhelmed. “I… never thought…”
“Shh,” you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. “Just feel. That’s all you have to do.”
And for the rest of summer break, you’d let him. Let him explore, let him feel, let him learn what it meant to be yours.
i have never been summoned so fast by a set of soobin photos
soobin has a minor major… problem. a little urge to cockwarm that shoves aside all of his other thoughts, always there, teasing, tantalizing, demanding attention to the point he’s not sure how else to fix it. except to give in. or try.
soobin, ‘m a little busy, you giggle a little, turning around to your tall, pouting boyfriend, who looks like he’s going to die of desperation any second now, peering at you through long, messy bangs, his tie undone and hanging around his neck, barely home for 2 seconds and he’s already trailing you like a lost puppy. and it’s not just a welcome home kiss he wants… not with the bulge in his pants. but it’s not his fault, not when he comes home after a long day and you’re cleaning your shared apartment, looking so perfectly pretty and domestic, oh fuck, soobin’s weak.
soobin couldn’t hide a boner if his life depended on it as you turn around, leaning the broom against a wall before leaning towards him on your tip toes, one quick kiss and soobin’s hands already find your waist, tugging you into him,, not even trying to hide how he’s already half hard in his pressed slacks, cute, awkward smile when you pull back, a little whine from him ‘cause one kiss isn’t enough! angel, please, his big hands not so subtly slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants, lazily trying to tug them down. ‘m not done cleaning yet, trying to be stern, but soobin’s disarming your weak defenses quickly, your hands pulling his out of your pants, making him whine in complaint.
i missed you so much, he mumbles, you’re killing me, baby. bringing your hand up to his heart shaped lips, sucking on the tip of your finger, lazy, half lidded eyes gazing down, just for a little bit? one hand on your waist, pressing you up against his bulge, god, he’s irresistible and he knows it.. so easy to always have his way, the corner of his lip tilting up. just cockwarming, okay?
mmph— n-needed this s’ much, doll, soobin’s breathy moan muffled by your hair, face buried in the crook of your neck, his breathing uneven and panting, warm, wet folds sinking slowly ‘round his heavy cock, soobin’s so big, leaking tip drooling all over your insides, clenched around him tight. manspread on the couch as you straddle his lap, legs trembling at the stretch, he’s too impatient for foreplay when all he wants is to cockwarm!
and it feels like his personal heaven, slacks not even off and just unzipped, boxers shoved down clumsily enough to free his heavy cock, neat dress shirt crumpled beneath your fingers, tie dropped somewhere on the floor, poor big dick boyfriend couldn’t wait at all, could he? your arousal dripping all over his crotch, feeling him so deep inside of you, filled so full to the brim it makes you lose your senses, dizzy with the sweet, pleasuring sensation only soobin can give, arms wrapped around his neck. and it’s pure intimacy, his need to be buried in your sweet pussy, warm and it feels like love, stress evaporating as he settles, bottomed out and pressing sleepy kisses to your neck, breathing in your scent
—
oh, he’s so fucked. soobin’s not sure how long has passed, except that you’ve fallen asleep, somewhat drowsy from the comfort… and his dick is aching, heavy and leaking. his hands slipping beneath your thighs, breathily moaning as he thrusts in a little, wet, slick squelch of your juices soaking his crotch, pussy sucking him in deeper as he sloppily fucks your hole, so desperate for release, pure need for sweet relief… and its a little embarrassing how fast he cums, hot, milky seed filling you up inside as you whine at the sudden fullness, tummy bulging a little with his cum and cock, barely awake and milking him of every drop as he moans, hands clumsily pushing your hips down, sticky cum seeping out from your cunt all over his boxers… surely you don’t mind..?
girl i need to sleep fml this is so messy sorry lol will write smth better when i have brain cells
i have never been summoned so fast by a set of soobin photos
soobin has a minor major… problem. a little urge to cockwarm that shoves aside all of his other thoughts, always there, teasing, tantalizing, demanding attention to the point he’s not sure how else to fix it. except to give in. or try.
soobin, ‘m a little busy, you giggle a little, turning around to your tall, pouting boyfriend, who looks like he’s going to die of desperation any second now, peering at you through long, messy bangs, his tie undone and hanging around his neck, barely home for 2 seconds and he’s already trailing you like a lost puppy. and it’s not just a welcome home kiss he wants… not with the bulge in his pants. but it’s not his fault, not when he comes home after a long day and you’re cleaning your shared apartment, looking so perfectly pretty and domestic, oh fuck, soobin’s weak.
soobin couldn’t hide a boner if his life depended on it as you turn around, leaning the broom against a wall before leaning towards him on your tip toes, one quick kiss and soobin’s hands already find your waist, tugging you into him,, not even trying to hide how he’s already half hard in his pressed slacks, cute, awkward smile when you pull back, a little whine from him ‘cause one kiss isn’t enough! angel, please, his big hands not so subtly slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants, lazily trying to tug them down. ‘m not done cleaning yet, trying to be stern, but soobin’s disarming your weak defenses quickly, your hands pulling his out of your pants, making him whine in complaint.
i missed you so much, he mumbles, you’re killing me, baby. bringing your hand up to his heart shaped lips, sucking on the tip of your finger, lazy, half lidded eyes gazing down, just for a little bit? one hand on your waist, pressing you up against his bulge, god, he’s irresistible and he knows it.. so easy to always have his way, the corner of his lip tilting up. just cockwarming, okay?
mmph— n-needed this s’ much, doll, soobin’s breathy moan muffled by your hair, face buried in the crook of your neck, his breathing uneven and panting, warm, wet folds sinking slowly ‘round his heavy cock, soobin’s so big, leaking tip drooling all over your insides, clenched around him tight. manspread on the couch as you straddle his lap, legs trembling at the stretch, he’s too impatient for foreplay when all he wants is to cockwarm!
and it feels like his personal heaven, slacks not even off and just unzipped, boxers shoved down clumsily enough to free his heavy cock, neat dress shirt crumpled beneath your fingers, tie dropped somewhere on the floor, poor big dick boyfriend couldn’t wait at all, could he? your arousal dripping all over his crotch, feeling him so deep inside of you, filled so full to the brim it makes you lose your senses, dizzy with the sweet, pleasuring sensation only soobin can give, arms wrapped around his neck. and it’s pure intimacy, his need to be buried in your sweet pussy, warm and it feels like love, stress evaporating as he settles, bottomed out and pressing sleepy kisses to your neck, breathing in your scent
—
oh, he’s so fucked. soobin’s not sure how long has passed, except that you’ve fallen asleep, somewhat drowsy from the comfort… and his dick is aching, heavy and leaking. his hands slipping beneath your thighs, breathily moaning as he thrusts in a little, wet, slick squelch of your juices soaking his crotch, pussy sucking him in deeper as he sloppily fucks your hole, so desperate for release, pure need for sweet relief… and its a little embarrassing how fast he cums, hot, milky seed filling you up inside as you whine at the sudden fullness, tummy bulging a little with his cum and cock, barely awake and milking him of every drop as he moans, hands clumsily pushing your hips down, sticky cum seeping out from your cunt all over his boxers… surely you don’t mind..?
girl i need to sleep fml this is so messy sorry lol will write smth better when i have brain cells
i have never been summoned so fast by a set of soobin photos
soobin has a minor major… problem. a little urge to cockwarm that shoves aside all of his other thoughts, always there, teasing, tantalizing, demanding attention to the point he’s not sure how else to fix it. except to give in. or try.
soobin, ‘m a little busy, you giggle a little, turning around to your tall, pouting boyfriend, who looks like he’s going to die of desperation any second now, peering at you through long, messy bangs, his tie undone and hanging around his neck, barely home for 2 seconds and he’s already trailing you like a lost puppy. and it’s not just a welcome home kiss he wants… not with the bulge in his pants. but it’s not his fault, not when he comes home after a long day and you’re cleaning your shared apartment, looking so perfectly pretty and domestic, oh fuck, soobin’s weak.
soobin couldn’t hide a boner if his life depended on it as you turn around, leaning the broom against a wall before leaning towards him on your tip toes, one quick kiss and soobin’s hands already find your waist, tugging you into him,, not even trying to hide how he’s already half hard in his pressed slacks, cute, awkward smile when you pull back, a little whine from him ‘cause one kiss isn’t enough! angel, please, his big hands not so subtly slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants, lazily trying to tug them down. ‘m not done cleaning yet, trying to be stern, but soobin’s disarming your weak defenses quickly, your hands pulling his out of your pants, making him whine in complaint.
i missed you so much, he mumbles, you’re killing me, baby. bringing your hand up to his heart shaped lips, sucking on the tip of your finger, lazy, half lidded eyes gazing down, just for a little bit? one hand on your waist, pressing you up against his bulge, god, he’s irresistible and he knows it.. so easy to always have his way, the corner of his lip tilting up. just cockwarming, okay?
mmph— n-needed this s’ much, doll, soobin’s breathy moan muffled by your hair, face buried in the crook of your neck, his breathing uneven and panting, warm, wet folds sinking slowly ‘round his heavy cock, soobin’s so big, leaking tip drooling all over your insides, clenched around him tight. manspread on the couch as you straddle his lap, legs trembling at the stretch, he’s too impatient for foreplay when all he wants is to cockwarm!
and it feels like his personal heaven, slacks not even off and just unzipped, boxers shoved down clumsily enough to free his heavy cock, neat dress shirt crumpled beneath your fingers, tie dropped somewhere on the floor, poor big dick boyfriend couldn’t wait at all, could he? your arousal dripping all over his crotch, feeling him so deep inside of you, filled so full to the brim it makes you lose your senses, dizzy with the sweet, pleasuring sensation only soobin can give, arms wrapped around his neck. and it’s pure intimacy, his need to be buried in your sweet pussy, warm and it feels like love, stress evaporating as he settles, bottomed out and pressing sleepy kisses to your neck, breathing in your scent
—
oh, he’s so fucked. soobin’s not sure how long has passed, except that you’ve fallen asleep, somewhat drowsy from the comfort… and his dick is aching, heavy and leaking. his hands slipping beneath your thighs, breathily moaning as he thrusts in a little, wet, slick squelch of your juices soaking his crotch, pussy sucking him in deeper as he sloppily fucks your hole, so desperate for release, pure need for sweet relief… and its a little embarrassing how fast he cums, hot, milky seed filling you up inside as you whine at the sudden fullness, tummy bulging a little with his cum and cock, barely awake and milking him of every drop as he moans, hands clumsily pushing your hips down, sticky cum seeping out from your cunt all over his boxers… surely you don’t mind..?
girl i need to sleep fml this is so messy sorry lol will write smth better when i have brain cells
DREAM RECALL ⸝⸝ He pulls away from you with a perplexed expression. Then he laughs, it’s short, cruel, he shakes his head. “Don’t be funny”, he mutters as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “You know I have a girlfriend, nerd.” He spits the words out like the venomous bite of a snake. His gaze drops to your unbuttoned blazer, briefly passing the harsh bruises on your chest. — “Don’t think you’re anything else besides a quick fuck.” ⸝⸝
wc ➘ 26k
pairings popular/bully!yeonjun x nerd!reader(fem) college au !
warnings heavy bullying, violence, exploitation, cheating, drinking, yeonjun is an asshole for 80% of this, redemption arc, some angsty scenes, hurt-comfort sort of? this fic contains 3/4 descriptive smut scenes which include — oral (both f & m), penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, a handjob, lots of degrading (reader receiving) but also a splash of praise, some tit groping, implied marking, very soft sex at the end (yeonjun cries a little), reader is inexperienced = virginity loss, + yeonjun teaching her how to give a blowjob as always lmk if I missed any!
#serene adds ✎ my god this fic has taken literal years off my life. But I could not have been happier with the outcome of it !! It's a long one, but I've tried to keep it interesting throughout it all for a lighter read. I'm not one to beg for feedback, but I will actually get down on my knees this time around. Please please comment/reblog or even send asks with your thoughts on it, I need it to be perceived in any way possible !! hehe please enjoy because I have slaved to get this done (if anyone notices the Skins reference in one scene, lets kiss)
(I was also slightly delirious when I read this through ahem...) anyway, ready, set go !
This story is part of a trilogy, find the masterpost here to make sure you're reading in correct order!
You don’t exactly know how it started. The cheating, the lying, the sleepless nights, the crying, the heartbreak, Choi Yeonjun. One day he was just…there. You had never met anyone like Yeonjun before yet you knew hundreds of people like him. He was everything, he was the cause of your pain, your tears, your self loathe. — But mostly importantly, Yeonjun was your first love. You would always remember him as that. You suppose it might have started on your first day at that college, back when you were only known as the junior transfer.
He was a senior. Perhaps it was a bit cliché, you don’t know, you didn’t think so. But you remember it clearly, the first time you saw him. — The air was hot, suffocatingly so, despite it being early October. Your palms were sweaty, and you squeezed them together as your hands remained neatly clasped in front of you. The eyes of the other students weighed a ton and you felt your knees buckle under the pressure.
Your professor clears his throat as he steps up beside you, gazing out across the classroom. “We have a new student today”, he announces what was already painfully obvious and you felt your cheeks redden further. Apart from a few sniggers here and there, silence follows. “Why don’t you introduce yourself?” His direct question made you flinch as you quickly glanced up from the floor, your gaze flitting between your professor and the large ocean of heads turned in your direction.
Your introduction was meek, the words getting caught in your throat as you stammered out your name. You could almost hear the smirks plastered on their faces as they drank in your fidgety frame. You jump when you feel your teacher's hand on your shoulder, “your new classmate is a year younger than you guys, but due to her impressive work ethic she has finished the majority of her classes already. She will therefore be joining us for the time being.” — His words of praise felt more like a set up for humiliation and you watched as students leaned over to whisper in each other’s ears, grinning at the words being passed around. You could hear the rumors already.
“Why don’t you take the seat over there?” Your new professor points to an empty desk by the very back and you breathe out a small sigh of relief, glad to be shielded from the peering eyes of your new classmates. But just as you’re about to step down and make your way toward the safe haven, you lock eyes with him. — Part of his face was shielded by his dark hair but you could clearly make out his brown eyes, staring right back at your own. He’s quick to catch on to your stare and you watch as his lips stretch into a menacing smirk.
Forcing yourself to look away, you grab onto your bag as you quietly make your way past the many rows of desks. An outstretched foot makes you stumble forward and you barely manage to catch yourself. “Careful”, one of the girls turns in her seat as she eyes you with a not so friendly smile, “wouldn’t want you to fall.” You give her a small nod as you hurriedly continue toward your own desk.
Thankful to have stepped away from the spotlight, you lean back as you let out a small breath. But it wasn’t enough. As class went on you continued to catch the multiple glances thrown your way, the small chuckles, the papers being passed around. It all felt too familiar, and your heart slowly sank. — You pushed the feeling away, focusing on what you did best, studying. Class was a nice distraction, but after an hour and a half it came to an end. And as soon as your professor had shut the door behind him, chaos erupted.
The scraping of chairs against the stone floor filled the classroom as students turned to get a glimpse of you. It didn’t take long for a small half circle to form around you, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.
“How did you do it?”
The first one to speak up was a lanky guy, he leans closer as he studies your uncertain face. Before you could even process the meaning of his question, a girl interrupted him, the same one who had tried to trip you over at the beginning of class. “I bet she slept with them, I mean, she must have.” — Her statement is followed by laughter as people nod in agreement. “But how did you get them in bed?” Another girl asks as she looks you up and down with distaste, “surely it wasn’t whilst looking like that?” More laughter.
Your face might as well have been on fire as you glanced down toward your notes. “What if she drugged them?” Another guy chimes in as he points an accusing finger toward you. Hurriedly you shake your head as your lips part in a reply, a reply that immediately gets stuck in your throat as you’re interrupted.
“You guys are being too harsh.” Another voice speaks up, everyone falls silent and soon the crowd parts as the guy you had made eye contact with earlier steps through. He’s followed by two of his friends and the small group stops by your desk. “It’s obvious you guys”, he exclaims as he leans down to come eyelevel with you. When this close, his sharp eyes somehow felt like daggers, boring into your soul as his lips curled into a smirk.
“She’s a nerd.” He draws out each syllable like it was his last, his lips stretching wider as he sees your face fall. Small gasps and hums of agreement fill the silent room, as if everyone just instantly agreed with whatever he said. “Don’t think of her as anything else”, he drawls, straightening his back once more as he stares you down.
You soon found out that his name was Choi Yeonjun.
⸝⸝
Your first day had only proven to be a small trial of the school year ahead. Word had quickly spread of the transfer student who took classes with the seniors, and wherever you went, you had eyes on you. — You tried your best to keep to yourself, to focus on your studies. That was how you had made it through your previous schools. But it seemed futile here, because no matter how low of a profile you kept, they always found a reason to pick and pull at you.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing nerd?” She yells as she shoves you against the red lockers and you groan in pain. You couldn’t remember her name, but you knew that she was a senior too, she sat two rows ahead of you and to the left. — Confused, you look up only to be met with a harsh slap to your face. “Don’t play stupid, I know that’s the last thing you are.” She sneers and your lips part in objection, though no words come out.
The girl signals for her friends to block either side of you, shutting off any escape routes as she rolls up her sleeves. “You think you can just go through my shit like that? That I wouldn’t know?” Her statement baffles you and your eyes widen, “what?” Another slap to your cheek, “right, come on now. Give it back.”
You frown, “give what back?” Her friends on either side of you grip onto your arms and you wince as they twist your limbs. She scoffs, “my lipstick you idiot, I know it was you. Who else would take it? Besides, I’ve seen the way you eye it whenever I put it on.” — While her words were partly true, you did think that her lipstick was really pretty and often found your gaze lingering whenever she picked it up from her bag, you would never stoop to such a level as stealing.
“I didn't steal your lipstick”, you croak out and she lets out a huff of disbelief. She goes off on yet another rant but you’re suddenly distracted as your eyes land on the small group of students walking by.
After your first day, Yeonjun hadn’t addressed you once. He never picked on you, never engaged in gossip about you, he barely even acknowledged your existence. But you knew that he was behind most of what happened to you, because everyone listened to Choi Yeonjun. If he didn’t like what was going on, he would put an end to it, but he never did.
You often saw him in the halls, he was always followed by his two friends. On your second day you had learned that the three of them were practically inseparable. — To his left was a tall guy, his frame could easily tower over just about anyone, yet he trailed behind his friends quietly with his head hung low. If it wasn’t for the scowl on his face whenever someone dared to glance in his direction, you would have assumed that he was just any other student. His name was Choi Soobin, that much you knew.
To his right, was perhaps Soobin’s opposite. He was shorter than his friends, not by much, but it made him stick out. His hair fell in uneven sections across his face and he often brushed it away with his pinky whilst he spoke. Unlike Soobin, Choi Beomgyu talked almost all the time, with the occasional input from Yeonjun. Though few of his words were kindhearted. He often picked on you, his comments were snarky and mean, you only ever caught a break when Yeonjun got fed up.
Then there was Choi Yeonjun, walking in the middle, he gazed ahead as Beomgyu blabbered nonsense into his ear, Soobin following slightly behind them. The Choi’s, that was what people called them. Something to do with their names all being Choi, you thought it was kind of corny. Yet you couldn’t deny the way your eyes lingered on Yeonjun, just a little longer than the rest.
It wasn’t like you thought that he was handsome or anything, but he was nice to look at…you supposed. And even though you knew better than to pay him any mind, it was hard to tear your gaze away from him. Only when he passed you, did you feel your heart stutter. For the first time since your first day here, he looked at you, if only for a brief moment. His gaze flickered over your practically torn limbs and a small smirk etched its way to his lips. — You felt your knees go weak under his eyes and swallowed hard.
Though his attention soon returned to the girl draped under his arm, the same girl that had tried to trip you over on your first day. You had found out that she was his girlfriend, her name was Mimi. She twirled a strand of her hair as she whispered something in his ear and Yeonjun chuckled. — Their small party continued past you as if nothing was wrong before disappearing down the hallway, leaving you to face the fate before you.
⸝⸝
You convinced yourself that it wasn’t a crush, that you simply found him appealing. The topic of crushes stopped being a thing after middle school, right? You, a twenty year old, have a crush? The thought was ridiculous. But no matter what lies you forced into your brain, your heart still beat a little faster whenever he was present, your eyes drifted in his direction and there was nothing you could do to stop them. — So what if you did have a small crush on Choi Yeonjun? It wasn’t going to harm anyone, it wasn’t like you were going to act on it. He had a girlfriend. Whenever you reminded yourself of said fact, a pang of guilt shot through your chest. You know you shouldn’t feel guilty, but it was hard not to. Most of all you felt guilty toward yourself — guilty for letting yourself sink to such a level.
As October went by, you did your best to stay out of the firing line of your classmates, you kept your head down and did your work. And when there was no work left to do, you spent your time looking at Yeonjun. He really was pretty to look at. — You noted the way he would lean back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head before yawning, his eyes momentarily fluttering closed. Usually, he wasted his classes on his phone, or chatting with Beomgyu, it was unusual for him to be doing any of his coursework. Perhaps he didn’t need to, or he simply didn’t care to.
Occasionally, you would catch your name slipping past Beomgyu’s lips, your gaze immediately snapping down to your book as your heart practically beat out of your chest. But no matter how many times he mentioned you, pointed at you, sneered at you, Yeonjun never even as much as turned his head in your direction, simply shrugging along to whatever his friend was saying.
The only time Yeonjun looked at you was when everyone else did. That one time someone poured milk over you in the cafeteria, or when you got a basketball in your face during gym. Only when the whole school pointed and laughed, only then did he spare you a fragment of his attention. And maybe you did like it, maybe you did want him to look at you.
It was kind of pathetic.
What was perhaps even more pathetic was that one offer you hadn’t been able to pass up. It wasn’t like you could say no to your professor either, right? — “I think there are a few students who would benefit from studying together with you.” You blink up at him as you watch your teacher lean back in his chair. This was why he had called you? To be frank you don’t know what you had expected when he asked you to stay behind after class, but this was far from it.
“Studying with me?” You repeat as you point a confused finger toward yourself. Sure you worked hard, but that was because you had your mind set on doing so. You doubted that your classmates would want to spend even a second wasted in your presence.
Your professor sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are a clever girl”, he nods toward your latest test result on his desk and your gaze follows his movement as you swallow. “Not to mention the fact that you are a whole year ahead of your peers.” He then adds with a small smile and you silently thank him, even though you were certain that he could smell the hesitation radiating off of you. “Look, it is not something you have to decide on today”, he begins as he gathers the papers on his desk, “but students like Mr. Choi could definitely use a hand in their studies.”
Your ears perked up at the brief mention of his name, and it was almost embarrassing how quickly your head jerked in the direction of your teacher. Though you did not dare get too ahead of yourself. Shifting on the spot, you softly clear your throat, “Choi…Choi Yeonjun?” Your professor stops to look at you, “why, yes, but you do not have to decide today take the weekend to-”
“I’ll do it.”
⸝⸝
You’ll do it? What a joke.
Your whole weekend was spent pacing back and forth across your room. Teeth gnawing away at your fingernails, your mind wrecked with different scenarios of how that following Monday would play out. What were you honestly thinking, saying yes like that? — With an exasperated groan, you flop down on your bed. Staring at the ceiling, you envision Yeonjun, a furious Yeonjun, or maybe a jeering one, you didn’t know which approach he would take. But surely he wouldn’t be happy once the news reached him, unless they already had?
Briefly you considered calling in sick that Monday. You had never called in sick before, at least you couldn’t remember doing so; recalling the multiple times you had ignored the fever in your body as you marched on to class. Not to mention that time you had the flu and still sat through your three hour long exam. — Were you really considering calling in sick over a mere guy. But it wasn’t just a guy, it was Choi Yeonjun.
Regardless of the situation, you still went to school on Monday. But as soon as you stepped inside the classroom, you could tell that something was different. It was like the air had shifted. And as you made your way to the back of the room, carefully taking your seat, not a single one of your classmates bothered to pick on you. Instead they all occupied themselves with whatever they had in front of them. It was odd to say the least.
In regular fashion, the classroom door swings open during the very last minute as Beomgyu saunters inside. Behind him follows Soobin and Yeonjun, both in the midst of a hushed conversation. You find your gaze instinctively lingering by Yeonjun’s tall frame, fingers twirling your pen mindlessly in your hand. It isn’t until you glance up and find his eyes already boring holes into your own, that you’re suddenly ripped from your trance.
Yeonjun was looking at you. He was actually looking at you, no, he was glaring at you. The realization was enough to send your heart into a frenzy as you swallowed a gulp. His gaze is unwavering as he approaches his desk, still conversing with his friend, but his eyes remain entirely on you. — Sweat builds on your forehead and you grip your pencil tightly. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find yourself to break his gaze. You knew that you were giving him exactly what he wanted by letting his eyes practically tear you apart, so why couldn’t you pull away?
It isn’t until the classroom door opens yet again that he puts out the fire he had momentarily created between the two of you, his eyes shifting toward board as your professor clears his throat, ready to begin today’s lecture. As his monotone voice fills the room, you breathe out a sigh of relief, glad to be out of his sight.
He had to have known by now, the nasty looks he shot you throughout the day were more than telling. For someone who never even paid you as much as a second thought, it was most unusual for Yeonjun’s full attention to be directed toward you. Even during lunch, you could feel his eyes on you as he sat by his usual table. With Mimi on his lap and Beomgyu talking in his ear, his gaze still remained on your slumped figure as you focused on your plate of food.
⸝⸝
Your professor had helped set up today’s session, but after that you would have to schedule them on your own. You were supposed to meet by the library, at 5:15pm that Monday. — You were there by 4:55. It took you about five minutes to pick a suitable table, not too close to the door, not in a corner somewhere, but also not in the center of the room, perhaps you were overthinking it. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Desperately you tried to calm your nerves as your trembling hands brought out your notebook and pencil case.
By 5:15 you were ready, actually you had been ready for the past ten minutes. The small library had been vacant even when you arrived, you didn’t know if you felt relieved at the fact or not. — By 5:25 you started to think that he might not show up. Out of all possible scenarios fabricated in your way too creative brain, the one of him not even bothering to come hadn’t crossed your mind at all. What would you do then? Accept defeat? Tell your professor? Talk to him in class? Neither option seemed too appealing.
It’s 5:32 when the doors creak open. Hesitantly, you lift your gaze as you watch Yeonjun’s eyes wander across the room, finally landing on you. His face morphed into a scowl and you felt your stomach drop. You notice that he hasn’t brought any study materials along with him and you bite the inside of your cheek. The short breath he lets go of echoes out into the silent library and then he marches toward you. — You don’t have time to think before he’s by your table, the palm of his hand slamming against the wood with such force that your pencils rattle, and you flinch.
“Do you think this is some kind of sick joke?” He sounds agitated, his hot breath searing through his gritted teeth as his nostrils flared. Your once tense jaw falls open as your brows draw together in a confused frown. — “I mean, I knew you had a thing for me. But don’t you think this is going too far?” He sounds almost hysterical as a grin spreads across his lips.
You felt color rushing to your cheeks at his words. Did he know? Could he tell by your small glances? But you thought you were being subtle. Yeonjun seems to be reading your mind as he runs a lazy hand through his hair, “oh come on now nerd, for someone so clever you really are quite oblivious.”
“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice the way you eye-fucked me every single opportunity you got?” He sneers, tilting his head to the side as he watches you with a cruel look of distaste. Your lips part but no words come out. So you shake your head, you didn’t know who you were trying to convince, him or yourself. “It wasn’t like that…”
He scoffs, “no?” Suddenly his face is only inches from yours, and you had to force your gaze not to stray down to his lips as he spoke. “Then what is it?” He murmurs, so close that you could almost taste his words on your tongue. You swallow, hard. What was it? You didn’t know, you didn’t want to answer, he couldn’t make you answer, could he?
His grin widens as a low chuckle rumbles in his chest. “No way”, he shakes his head as one of his hands grip the backrest of your chair, easily twisting you to face him fully. His previously cocky expression was replaced with a look of sympathy, his voice now laced with pity.
“Don’t tell me you’ve got a little crush, nerd.” He spits the words out and you’re quick to shake your head, denying his blunt accusations. “I don’t”, you stammer, leaning back as far as your chair would allow you to. — “You’re telling me you’re doing this out of goodwill?” He asks as he tilts his head to the side. He hardly seems moved by your denial, but when you quietly nod his smug face turns into a snarl. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
“What? No, no, no that’s not what I-” You stop yourself before getting another word out, it felt like no matter what you said, you only worsened the already sour situation. Yeonjun exhales, his warm breath slamming against your already hot face. He leans back, taking a seat on the edge of the table as his hands dig into the pockets of his uniform. Confused, you watch him as he silently gets comfortable.
“What do you want then?” He finally asks and you blink up at him. “My number? Is that it?” He wonders as he fishes up his phone, unlocking it as he pulls up his contacts. You shake your head and he frowns, “then what?” — Your lips part and you motion toward the books in front of you, “just…”
“Don’t tell me you want me to fuck you, because that would be pathetic, even for you nerd.”
His statement catches you so off guard that you almost hit your leg on the chair opposite your own. “What?” You whisper, unsure of the fact that you had even heard him correct. You knew that there was no such universe in which someone like Choi Yeonjun would ever view you in that way, so it felt almost bizarre to hear those words leave his lips so casually.
He sighs as he gets up from the table, leaning down to become eye level with you once more. “I mean, I get that you’re desperate, believe me”, he lets his gaze drop to your chest for a brief second. “Looking like that, I’m sure it’s hard to get by”, he hums, and in that moment, you wished for the ground to swallow you whole.
It had been a foolish idea to even consider doing this, even more to say yes. If you had only turned your professor’s offer down, none of this would have happened. Because in all honesty, if this was how Yeonjun looked at you, with such menace and fabricated pity, you think you preferred it when he paid your existence no mind.
“But you’re lucky”, he murmurs before leaning even closer, his breath mingling with your own. Lucky? What a joke, you thought. — You flinch when you feel the light caress of his fingers on your shoulder as they slowly entangle themselves in your hair. “I’m feeling particularly nice today”, he smirks and your eyes involuntarily dart down to his perfectly plump and pink lips. “Besides”, he drawls, his hand moving to cup your cheek.
“I’ve never fucked a nerd before.”
You barely get the chance to second guess his words when Yeonjun presses his lips against yours. Immediately you freeze as your shoulders jerk up and your back curls against the chair. The hand on your cheek moves to your chin as he grabs ahold of your face, forcing his tongue inside your mouth and you let out a small shriek. — He hums against you, his eyes fluttering closed, lips moving on top of your unresponsive ones.
A moment later he pulls back. “You kiss like a virgin”, he states as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. As soon as the words left his lips, he grins, “but I bet you are.” — Still too stunned to even speak after his sudden course of action, you merely shake your head as you glance between him and the floor. You weren’t a complete virgin, you did have a boyfriend back in high school. Not that the two of you ever went further than kissing though, and even then, his kisses were nothing like Yeonjun’s.
Hesitantly you meet his gaze, swallowing down the nerves bubbling in your throat. “Come on now nerd”, he murmurs as his hands grip onto the armrests of your chair, large arms entrapping you against the old wood. “You’ve done it now haven’t you?” — “You got me here all to yourself, why don’t you use it to your advantage hm?” His eyes gleamed with mischief and you knew better than to trust his persuasive ways. Still you found it hard to do anything besides gawk at him, in utter disbelief of what was currently happening.
Biting your lip, you let your eyes flit down to his parted lips, focusing a little too long on the sheer layer of saliva that coated them. Yeonjun is quick to pick up on the subtle shift in your focus and he chuckles. You clearly see the way he moves closer, but it still doesn’t register that he’s kissing you again until his tongue molds against your own. Despite your initial shock, you try your best to kiss him back this time. You knew that you were probably horrible, but even then, he didn’t say anything.
Your breath catches in your throat when his hand envelops one of your breasts, groping it softly. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had your tits touched?” He drawls, easily noting your uncertain approach. Your silence is almost deafening and the way you squirm when he pinches one of your nipples tells him everything he needs to know. With a small frown he pulls back, just enough for you to see his face. He looks conflicted, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek as he runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck, you really are a virgin aren’t you?” He sounds almost…serious and you find yourself slowly nodding as you grip the hem of your skirt tightly.
Yeonjun sighs and you hear him mutter something under his breath. His gaze snaps back to you and you can see the shift in his eyes once he settles on a decision. “Alright”, he states before quickly dropping to his knees. Baffled you follow his direct movement, shrieking as his hands on your knees part your legs. “We’ll start slow”, he hums as his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your thighs, your weak arms easily giving up when he pushes your skirt up.
“No need to be nervous”, he reassures you as his fingers hook around the hem of your panties, “I’ve done this plenty of times.” With that, he tugs your underwear down, past your knees, letting them pool around your ankles before his attention shifts to your exposed core. Your legs close in an attempt to shield yourself from his invasive stare but Yeonjun only gruffs out a short breath as he breaks your knees apart once more. — When he doesn’t say anything you grow worried, clearing your throat awkwardly as you shift on the chair. You had never done anything like this before so you had no idea if his silence was a good or a bad thing.
You don’t have to ponder for long as his fingers suddenly graze your folds. The touch was unexpected and you jolted forward as you tried to suppress the surprised noise threatening to escape. The smirk stretching across his lips only grows as Yeonjun basks in the way you react to his simple touch, you were far easier than any of the girls he’d been with. — “Ever had anyone touch you like this?” He asks, his voice a low murmur as his attention remains on his fingers sliding against your cunt, gathering the slick that formed as he smeared it all over you.
Meekly you shake your head, breathing out a small “no.” He seems satisfied with your answer, his ego inflating by the minute as he watches you writher under his small touches. Everything still felt so surreal, there was no way that this was actually happening, was it? You’re reminded of all the times you had watched him from afar, sneaking shy glances at him during class, before and after school, in the cafeteria, where he sat with his friends and…and his girlfriend. The reminder is enough to pull you from whatever euphoric state that transpired within your body as you jerked away from his touch.
Yeonjun’s eyes snap to you with a hint of curiosity and you bite the inside of your cheek, drawing in a small breath before daring to speak. “M-Mimi… w-what about her?” — He groans, a frustrated groan, and you wonder if you overstepped. “Nerd, someone like you, doesn’t count as cheating, got it?” He holds your gaze, speaking clearly, as if giving instructions to a toddler. He grins, a menacing grin, “besides, shouldn’t you be happy? I’m giving you what your perverted little mind has craved since you first stepped foot here.” Sheepishly you nod, heat rushing to your cheeks at the blunt statements he made.
Choi Yeonjun was bold, his words were harsh, and a lot of times they hurt. For some reason that made you like him even more.
“Now stop asking obvious questions”, he grunts as his hands trail along your thighs, pulling you forward on the chair, ignoring the way you squeal when he nuzzles his face between your legs. — It felt far from what it looked like in the movies, or even in porn. Yeonjun's hot breath against your core, his tongue dragging across your folds, it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand and you gasped as he flicked your clit.
It was almost impossible to control the way your thighs twitched, squishing either side of his head as you fought to remain composed. A small whine left your lips as he latched on to your sensitive flesh, licking and sucking on it as if it was the only thing he was capable of doing. You barely register the way one of his hands grab onto your trembling ones, guiding them to his hair as he hums against your cunt. “Don’t be so awkward”, he mutters, his tongue dwelling deep inside of you, eliciting a moan from you as your fingers immediately twist in his dark locks.
Never in a million years had you thought that the study session that you had been far too eager to agree to would turn into something like this. And that Choi Yeonjun of all people would be the first one to see such a part of you. — You didn’t know if it was such a good thing. But it was impossible to form a single coherent thought with him between your legs, mouth falling open in surprise as his nose bumps up against your clit. He doesn’t seem to mind when you push yourself further onto his face, practically grinding your hips on his mouth as small noises of pleasure ripped from deep within your throat. You were thankful that the library had been vacant for hours.
“Y-Yeonjun!” His name falls from your lips without registering in your brain beforehand and you almost slap a hand over your mouth as realization washes over you. Yeonjun on the other hand, only chuckles, the sound sending vibrations against your sensitive cunt and you whimper as he withdraws his tongue from within you. — A somewhat familiar sensation bubbled in the depths of your stomach. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had an orgasm before, but the occurrence was rare, you didn’t exactly spend much time with yourself like that.
His name is pulled from your chest once more and his grip on your thighs tighten. “You got something to say, nerd?” He wonders without leaning away from you, hot mouth working against your throbbing core as he draws moans and whines from you. “C-close..” you mumble, feeling your cheeks redden at the small statement, and you were suddenly glad that he was unable to see your flustered face.
“Cum on my face then, bet you’ve never done that before.”
The comment was mean, possibly even degrading, but it still made you clench incoherently around nothing as you released against his waiting lips. To your surprise, he doesn’t immediately pull away, his face remaining between your legs as he laps up the aftermath of your orgasm, drinking in the taste of you with a small satisfied groan. — And when he does finally tear himself from your sore cunt, you can barely look him in the eyes, ashamed at what had just transpired between the two of you. Yeonjun doesn’t seem affected in the slightest, his thumb wiping away the sticky fluids on his chin before popping them in his mouth. The sight should not have made you throb but it did and you bit your lip.
Without warning, he suddenly gets up as he dusts off his pants. “W-where are you going?” You’re unable to stop yourself from asking. He shoots you a glance that says ‘well isn’t it obvious?’ He sighs, frustrated by your blunt obliviousness, “our session is over, isn’t it?”
You blink at him, still recovering from your climax as you pull your panties back on. “But the study-” — “You’ve got what you wanted, haven’t you?” He states as he stares down at you, much like he had on your first day, and your words suddenly fall short as you meet his gaze. Shaking his head, a small chuckle escaped his lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow, nerd.”
The last thing you hear are the library doors slamming shut before the room is enveloped in a deafening silence once more.
⸝⸝
Everything had returned to normal the following Tuesday. You could barely wrap your head around it. The snarky comments were back, the pestering stares, whatever had roamed the air yesterday seemed to have completely vanished and you were left dumbfounded. — There was only one exceptionally different thing. Choi Yeonjun.
Part of you had hoped that he wouldn’t come to class, but that was a foolish thought. You hear him before you see him, or rather, you hear Beomgyu’s obnoxiously loud voice echoing off the hallways as The Choi’s approach. The classroom falls into a hushed murmur as the door swings open and the three of them enter. — You had told yourself that you would avoid him at all costs. That meant not speaking to him, not looking at him, not even glancing in the same direction as him.
You found it to be very hard. But the shame over what had happened not even 24 hours prior kept your gaze trained to the pages of your notebook. Not even as he pulled out his chair, making an agonizingly scraping noise that cut through the otherwise quiet room, did your eyes stray from the words in front of you, rereading them over and over as you tried to get your brain to register them. — You lasted approximately two minutes.
One small peek his way confirmed your every fear. Leaning back in his chair, Yeonjun paid you no mind as he scrolled through his phone, one of his hands rubbing the back of his neck as he did. He acted…just like he usually did, as if nothing had happened between the two of you. For a moment you had worried that he would tell everyone, that was a shame you wouldn’t be able to bear. But perhaps he was trying to spare his own reputation, you could only hope he would keep quiet. Did he regret it? Probably. Why wouldn’t he?
What was perhaps even worse than his indifferent mannerism toward you was when Mimi greeted him with a kiss. Flinging her arms around his neck, she pulls him close as she practically shoves her tongue down his throat. Beomgyu makes a vile comment before turning to Soobin but besides that, no one else paid them much mind. Except you. The guilt was eating you alive, and you weren’t even the one who had cheated. What would happen if she found out, would she break up with him? Surely she would find a way to put the entire blame on you. You did not dare think of how miserably you would be treated if she found out. It couldn’t happen. You would have to talk to Yeonjun about it, one way or another.
But how?
You tried approaching him at lunch, but you only managed one step in his direction before you chickened out. Then you tried again before English, this time you made it halfway before Soobin swooped in right in front of you, his tall frame covering Yeonjun completely from view and you sighed. Your last shot was after gym. As everyone ventured toward the locker rooms you trailed behind, Yeonjun had, too, stayed to talk with your professor but just as you were about to approach, a tap on your shoulder freezes you in place.
“The hell are you staring at, nerd?” Beomgyu’s voice is filled with distaste as he eyes your sweaty figure, his nose turning up in disgust. Stunned, you fumble for words as your eyes dart between him and Yeonjun, just a few paces away. “N-nothing I was just…” — “Just leaving, right?” He cocks an eyebrow at you and you quickly nod. “Y-Yeah”, you squeak out before rushing off. Why did his friends never stray from his side? It made things so difficult.
You were always the last one to leave the changing rooms. Hiding away in the bathroom, you waited for the other girls to finish before you dared to venture out and get changed yourself. It had become somewhat of a routine, not that it was particularly comfortable, but as it was your last lesson of the day, you weren't in any rush. — Whilst you get dressed, your mind concludes with a ton of ideas to approach Yeonjun. It would have to be when there was no one else around, before or after school seemed like your best bet. The only remaining problem was his friends, who seemed to be glued to his side.
Grabbing your bag, you walk over to the exit as you think of a way to get him alone. But as the door to the locker room closes behind you, it seems your problems have solved themselves for you.
“What took you so long?”
Yeonjun’s sharp voice startles you and you almost drop the bag in your hands as your head snaps in his direction. Leaning against the wall, his own gym bag swung over his shoulder, Yeonjun studies you with an indifferent expression plastered across his face. Your mouth falls open as you peer down the empty hallway, completely at loss for words. “Y-you waited for me?” You splutter as your attention shifts back to him.
He purses his lips as he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “yes, but I’m starting to regret it.” — “Do you always take this long?” His voice is laced with annoyance and you swallow as you shake your head. “I- I mean I…I didn’t know you were waiting I..”
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” He waves your meek explanation off as he shifts against the wall. Still confused on why he was even here in the first place, you bite your tongue as you wait for him to speak first. But out of everything he could’ve said to you, you had not expected the next words that were to come out of his mouth.
“When’s our next study session?”
What? He wanted to have another study session? You had been prepared to confront him about yesterday, to tell him, no beg him, to keep quiet. Yet he was asking for another session? You were sure he could read the bewilderment on your face as his lips drew into a grin. “N-next session?” You gawk out as your mouth repeatedly opens and closes. He rolls his eyes before huffing out a short breath of air, “yes our next session, we never settled on a date.” — Well you didn’t think he wanted to, you had planned on telling your professor that the whole ordeal had been unsuccessful but here he was, asking for a redo?
Was it a good idea to say yes? Considering how last time had played out, the answer was probably not. — “I- I’m free whenever.” But you obviously were very bad at listening to your gut instincts. However the smile that spread across his face made it all worth it, you felt your heart speeding up at the endearing sight. “Perfect”, he chimes, “then we’ll do tomorrow 5:30.” You nod but before you can get another word out he adds, “third floor, room 291.”
Would you guys not be studying in the library? Despite your slight uneasiness, you nod, “alright.” — “Make sure no one sees you on the way there, and don’t be late.” He warns before turning on his heel and walking off. You were left stunned as you leaned against the wall, still gripping your bag tightly in your hands as you tried to process what had just happened.
⸝⸝
Wednesday rolls around, the day progresses just like any other would. But something feels different, you feel different. It’s a different kind of excitement, bubbling in the pits of your stomach. You had barely gotten any sleep last night, which was a warning sign on its own because you always made sure to get 8 hours. But you don’t feel tired, not in the slightest. And as the last bell of the day rings, you hurry to the bathroom.
You never fussed over your appearance, far too busy with having a book stuck under your nose. But today felt different, sure the two of you were just studying, it didn’t mean that you couldn’t make an effort if you wanted to look nice, right?
The sound of bathroom stalls slamming behind you shifts your attention to a group of girls passing by. They all stop as they watch you apply a clear gloss to your lips, their noses scrunching up in disgust. “What’s gotten into that freak?” One of them mutters as she makes a move toward you, only to be stopped by one of her friends. “Don’t, you might get contaminated”, she sneers and the small group burst out into a fit of giggles. — Holding back a small sigh, you ignore them as you wait for them to leave before daring to do the same.
Your shoes echo off the now almost empty hallways, it was late enough to where few students lingered behind. Still unfamiliar with the building, you made your way to the third floor. You took no classes here and you had to rely on the numbered doors in order to find 291. It takes a while but soon you’re standing in front of it.
Your hands tremble as you hurriedly glance down the hallway, making sure no one saw you. When your gaze returns to the door you realize that it was a lot smaller than the others, its red paint standing out amongst the otherwise beige ones. That was odd. Yet you push any concerns aside as you reach out to twist the handle.
Upon stepping inside you quickly realize that this was not a classroom. The room was small, crowded shelves pushed up against all walls, displaying a large range of items, from old books to tools such as screwdrivers and wrenches. Your eyes scan across the multitude of contents as your mind tries to piece together the scene before you.
“You’re awfully punctual”, Yeonjun drawls as he emerges from a shadowed corner. You jump as you turn to him with a confused frown, “what’s this?” — He grins, his hands digging deep into his pockets as he leans against one of the shelves, “this is where our study sessions will be taking place from now on”, he explains as he motions for you to have a look around. From now on? But there was hardly room to study here, was there?
Quickly noting your perplexed expression, Yeonjun’s grin widens. “Well come on now, nerd. You didn’t actually think I was planning on sitting down and doing algebra with you?” Your frown deepens, lips parting as your eyes dart between him and the cramped space. “But what…then why are we here?” You ask as you readjust the rather heavy bag on your shoulder. — He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a step forward, that single step is enough to get him right in front of you, his chest dangerously close to yours. His hand slides up your arm, reaching your shoulder as he hooks two fingers under the strap holding your bag. “Use that clever little brain of yours for something other than your studies, and maybe you will start to see the bigger picture.”
Your bag hits the floor with a thud as Yeonjun’s hand returns to your shoulder, fingers twiddling the collar of your blouse as he waits for the wheels in your head to finally turn. And when they do, you glance up at him, your eyes wide with realization. “Yeonjun I… I don’t know…” Your eyes flit toward the door, mind altering between your options, stay or go, stay or go, stay or–
“Tell me now.”
His voice is calm and his posture remains stoic as he peers down at you. “I’m not about to waste my time on a loser like you if you’re not even into it.” He sneers as his hand lets go of your collar, pushing you back, only slightly, but enough for you to hit the shelf behind you. Was he seriously asking for your opinion right now, for your consent? Choi Yeonjun was willing to spend time on you, with you. The news were hard to melt and you found yourself awkwardly gazing up at him as your mind fumbled for an answer.
“What’s it going to be, nerd?” He tsk’s before leaning forward, one of his hands resting on the shelf next to your face as he cages you against it. Briefly you considered turning back, walking away, to return to your otherwise dull life as you watched him from afar. You remembered Mimi, his girlfriend, the guilt and shame, suddenly it came crashing down all over again. But you also remembered his words: “someone like you, doesn’t count as cheating”. Had he really meant that? If not, why else would he be here right now?
In the end, you nod. “O-Okay”, your voice comes out as a small peep and you curse yourself for not controlling it better. The smug smirk that immediately crawled onto his face should have been a waving warning flag, yet you ignore it, too caught up in the way his eyes darted to your lips, eyeing the clear coat of gloss you’d previously applied. His thumb swipes across the sticky substance. “I was about to tell you not to disappoint me”, he murmurs before pulling your lip down, “but I can already tell that you won’t.”
Your heart swelled at the small praise, and you leaned into his touch. You hear him scoff at your blunt advances, his lips twitching as he eyes your eager figure. “You virgins really are gullible.” — He presses his mouth against yours, making you gasp in surprise as your pupils blow wide. In what you guessed to be an attempt at loosening you up, his hands roam up and down your sides, settling on your waist as he pushes himself closer, grinding his hips against yours.
You had no clue of what to focus on, his tongue in your mouth, his hands on your waist, or the way his thigh pushed between your legs, rubbing against your panties in a way that had you practically squealing. — You knew that he was enjoying the reactions he pulled from you, ever so sensitive to his smallest of touches. It’s not long before his hand is on your thigh, gradually moving along your skin before reaching the hem of your underwear. He pushes the fabric to the side, fingers sliding across your already pathetically wet folds before finding your clit, as if they had done this a hundred times.
The moans you emit are all swallowed by his hungry lips on yours as he lets you grind yourself onto his hand. None of the previous hesitation you had felt during your session in the library was present in your mind, all you could think about was how good he felt, how you didn't want him to stop, and how you wanted more, a lot more.
“More.”
You can feel him smirk against you, your desperate whine ringing out into the hot air. — “Yeah?” He muses before pulling back, his lips are coated in your clear gloss, the sight was strangely enticing and you find yourself nibbling on your own lip as you sheepishly nod. He chuckles, pressing his lips against yours whilst he hikes your leg around his waist, the small adjustment bringing you even closer to him, and as you feel the hard bulge through his pants, reality slowly sets in.
But you can’t stop now, you don’t want to. The sound of him undoing his zipper becomes a muffled noise somewhere in the background as your arms wrap around his neck, clinging to him in every way possible. — He breaks the kiss, confused, your eyes flutter open as you try and peer at him in the dim light of the storage room. You briefly catch him tearing a small package open with his teeth and for a moment you’re left completely dumbfounded before realizing that it must’ve been a condom.
People wore condoms for one of two reasons, either they were avoiding knocking someone up, or they were afraid of catching diseases. But what disease could you possibly be carrying? So that would mean… You don’t have time to ponder on the matter further as you feel the tip of his cock against your folds. Immediately your eyes shoot open as your hands grip onto his shoulders. Suddenly everything seemed very real, perhaps a little too real.
“Tell me if it hurts”, he murmurs, his forehead leaning against your own and you meekly nod. Was it supposed to hurt? You draw in a sharp breath as you feel him slowly push inside, the stretch of his fingers had been nothing compared to this and you felt completely unprepared. His movements come to an abrupt halt as he leans back to gauge your reaction with a wary expression. Quickly nodding, you loosen your grip on his shoulders, breathing out a small “‘m fine.”
“Yeah?” He wonders and you nod once more. Only when he’s fully inside, do you dare let out the breath you had been holding in; feeling your body relax against his. “You feelin’ okay?” His genuine question catches you off guard and you give a small nod of assurance. “Y-Yeah I am..” — He smirks, then he captures your lips in a small kiss, the gesture distracts you from the moment he begins to move, gently rocking his hips into you and you gasp against his mouth.
“Fuck”, he grunts. With one hand around your waist and the other maintaining a steady grip on the shelf behind you, he slowly thrusts inside of you. “Are all virgins this tight?” He murmurs, the question was rhetorical and he doesn’t give you the chance to answer, “or is it just you nerd?” — “I bet it is.” He sounds menacing but his ragged breathing makes it hard for you to tell if he’d really meant it or not.
The items on the shelf rattle as his pace grows quicker, harsher, drawing moans and whimpers from you with every move his hips, cock stretching you wide as you claw against his shoulders. He leans back, enough to where he can watch the way your lips part, your now smudged gloss spread across your cheeks and chin as you whine. His gaze drops to your chest, fingers quickly beginning to work on the buttons that concealed you from him. Flicking them open one by one, Yeonjun’s hand quickly tears your blouse apart, eyes darting to your plump breasts as they bounced in rhythm with his movement.
“You’ve got some nice tits for a nerd”, he muses, his hand groping your chest as his thumb flicks along your covered nipple. Feeling your cheeks redden, you only moan as he draws deeper inside of you, the tip of his cock brushing against parts of you that made you squirm. — Yeonjun made you think of yourself, see yourself, in ways you never had before, and it was exciting.
“Has anyone ever told you that, hm?” He sneers, his hand pushing your breasts together as he watches the flesh squish against one another, groaning at the sight. Unable to form a single coherent thought, much less a full sentence, you merely shake your head. “Well you do. You got some of the nicest tits I’ve ever seen.” He grunts, hips snapping against you. The compliment makes you throb around him, your orgasm approaching at a rapid pace and your fairly short nails dig into his shoulders.
“P-Please”, you wail and Yeonjun rolls his eyes, letting out a gruff sigh. “Thought you would last longer than this, nerd.” — “But don’t worry”, he murmurs, leaning in close as his lips trail the shell of your ear, “it comes with practice.” He moves down your neck, prepping your skin in soft kisses before he pulls it between his teeth.
You whimper when his thumb rubs at your clit, legs trembling around his waist as your hands move to his hair, fingers threading through his dark locks before securely latching on. It doesn’t take much for your high to hit, your cunt clenching down around his cock as it pulls him in further. — Yeonjun curses under his breath as his hips jerk forward before stuttering. In the pure ecstasy of the moment, you roughly pull his face from your neck as you crash your lips against his. You knew that it was messy, sloppy and uncalculated, but you didn’t care as long as you got to feel him this close to you.
You hear him sigh, you can’t tell if he’s content or not. But a moment later he breaks the kiss, gazing at you with a clouded expression as a small grin tugs at his mouth. He bites his lip, eyes dropping to your chest one final time before he pulls out, making you wince at the sudden feel of emptiness. — “Not too bad for a first timer”, he comments as he rids himself off the condom. You open your mouth to say something but he beats you to it.
“Same time Friday, got it?”
⸝⸝
Your study sessions with Yeonjun became a regular thing, and every instance was just like the former. They would take place after school, in room 291, shielded away from prying eyes as he had his way with you. You were there, at his every beck and call, never once showing up late nor canceling. — It was both thrilling and excruciating. You knew that whatever transpired between the two of you was nothing personal and only temporary. Yet you couldn’t help but long for something more; you longed for Yeonjun to like you back.
It was probably a selfish thought, a selfish fantasy. But the images of Mimi flashing before your eyes, which had previously filled you with both dread and guilt, were suddenly replaced with a feeling of superiority. Because even if she didn’t know it, her boyfriend fucked someone else on the side, her boyfriend was cheating on her, with you. And it felt good. Often you had to hold yourself back from letting said fact slip past your lips. The scenarios would sometimes look something like this…
“Watch where you’re going, nerd.” Mimi spits after purposefully crashing into you in an almost empty hallway that provided more than enough room for two parties to pass. Her friends turn to you with a scowl as they fold their arms across their chests. Your eyes dart between them and their vengeful leader before flitting down the long corridor, down to where The Choi’s were hanging out.
Making the mistake of letting your gaze linger, garners her attention as Mimi snaps her fingers in front of your face. “What the fuck are you looking at nerd?” She barks as her eyes follow yours. She scoffs, her lips curling into a smirk, “do you think my boyfriend looks good or something?” Her question rips your attention back as you feverishly shake your head. — Mimi only laughs, her friends quickly joining in as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.
“It’s okay, I don’t blame you, really.” She tries to appear nice, perhaps even pitiful, but the malicious intent behind her words linger. You shake your head once more, “no I wasn’t I..” She holds up a finger to silence you, “come on now, it’s obvious. Everyone knows you have a thing for him.” She practically giggles as she covers her painted lips with a hand. Your cheeks feel as if they were on fire, your gaze dropping to your shoes as you bite the inside of your cheek.
“But don’t worry”, she leans closer, her breath, which reeked of the strawberry bubblegum she always chewed, fans across your face. “You’re not exactly his type.”
The statement almost made you scoff. Not his type? Was that what it was? You briefly considered telling her, telling her what her boyfriend was doing behind her back, and with the school nerd at that. The one girl she thought she didn’t have to worry about. It was almost a bit comedic. But you held your tongue. No matter how bad you wanted to crush whatever illusion she had going on, you couldn’t. Besides, Yeonjun would probably just deny it, and who would believe you?
Speaking of Choi Yeonjun. — He had become almost insufferable outside of your sessions. From barely looking at you in class to bringing attention to you at almost every possible second, Yeonjun was now the sole epitome of the bullying you endured. Whether it was the nasty and mean comments he shared with Beomgyu, his words echoing out through the classroom as he brought the whole class to laughter. Or the multiple times in which he’d trip you over in the hallways, undoubtedly peeking up your skirt as he did, but of course, no one noticed that, and if they did, they didn’t fault him.
Choi Yeonjun did nothing wrong. He never did. So when he invites you to a party, your very first one, you don't know what to say.
“Think about it”, he huffs as he zips his pants back up. The air in the small storage unit felt hot and stuffy, your clothes sticking to your sweaty body as you pulled your panties on. “I don’t know..” you quietly murmur, glancing down toward the dark floor as you twist your hands behind your back. — Yeonjun sighs, running a hand through his hair before he tries again. “Why not? Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
You shake your head. “I’m not. But…I don’t know anyone, I don’t… I can’t just show up there.” You argue before swallowing the lump in your throat. It had been an outright baffling proposal on his side. What would people think if you just turned up? — “Tell them I invited you, they’ll let you in.” You blink up at him, was he being for real right now?
“Y-You?” He nods, as if it was a given. “Make sure to wear something half decent at least.” He says, giving your shoulder a pat before he pushes past you and out of the small room, leaving you in the dark once more.
⸝⸝
Something half decent? What was something, half decent? You didn’t know, and it took you about an hour to pick out a dress you thought would be suitable. It wasn’t particularly short, stopping at your knees, the dark purple complimented your skin nice, you thought. But it felt uncomfortable to walk in, and with one hand wrapped around the fabric, you pull it down as you near the driveway of a large villa.
Your eyes flit across the scenery, it was dark out, but the house remained lit despite the late hour. Music was playing, loud enough to where the beat echoed out across the empty street. Swallowing a gulp, you run a hand through your styled hair one final time before daring to step inside.
Immediately you’re greeted by a large number of perplexed eyes, everyone slowly turning to you as you venture further into the villa, reaching the filled kitchen space. “What’s she doing here?” “Did someone invite her?” “I can’t believe she would actually show up.” — You cringe at their remarks, trying your best to ignore them as your eyes scan for Yeonjun. What if he wasn’t here? What if this had all been a ploy to draw you out and humiliate you further. You shouldn’t have come here, you really should–
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Mimi’s harsh voice snaps you from your small trance as she immediately corners you. Freezing on the spot, your hands curl into fists as you turn to her. Desperate for a way to defend yourself, to explain the situation, or to just escape all together, your mind spirals with excuses. Your lips part but you can’t seem to get a single syllable out. “Come on nerd, I asked you a question.” She huffs, growing impatient as she takes a step forward, her chest almost touching yours.
“I’m…I..” Could you really tell her that her boyfriend invited you? Would she believe you? No, of course not, no one would. You bite the inside of your cheek, eyes flitting across the crowded kitchen. — “Did you come here to make a scene or something? I mean come on, you’re not even a senior.” Her comment makes everyone hum in agreement as they nod, some even sharing a couple of laughs.
She was right, and even if she wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. You stood no chance against anyone in this room. Tears prickle in the corner of your eyes and for the first time since you came here, you actually felt like crying. Taking in a small breath, you slowly exhale again. “Well I…”
“I invited her.”
Your heart practically froze over as Yeonjun’s voice cut through the tense air. Quiet murmurs carry out through the room as everyone redirects their attention. Somewhere in front of you, you can hear Mimi scoff as she takes a small step back. “What?” She questions and you finally dare to lift your gaze, your eyes immediately locking with Yeonjun’s as he leans against the kitchen island, seemingly unbothered by the small uproar taking place.
Mimi on the other hand seemed to be fuming as she glanced between her boyfriend and you. “What do you mean you invited her?” She seethes, her voice laced with hatred and spite. Yeonjun shrugs as he digs his hands into his pockets, an indifferent look on his face. “Come on now, loosen up a little. It’s our responsibility as her seniors to take good care of her, don’t you agree?” He lets his gaze wander across the multiple eyes directed at him, everyone seeming to break under his stare as they quietly nod.
He cocks an eyebrow in the direction of his girlfriend, “then there’s no problem, hm?” Mimi’s mouth had fallen open as she watched him win everyone over within a matter of seconds. Though quickly regaining her composure as she nods, muttering out a quiet, “whatever”, before she pushes past you with such force that you almost lose your balance.
Yeonjun sighs as he moves off the countertop, placing a hand on Beomgyu’s shoulder, “get her something to drink won’t you?” His friend frowns, “why me?” But Yeonjun doesn’t pay him any further mind as he, too, takes his leave, most likely in search of his raging girlfriend.
As soon as he leaves, the previous tension seems to lift as everyone returns to whatever conversation they had been preoccupied with earlier. You breathe out a small sigh as you wrap your arms around you, leaning against the kitchen island as you keep your gaze down. — A drink is shoved in front of you, it’s reddish hue making you frown as you gingerly take it from Beomgyu’s outstretched hand. “T-Thanks”, you mumble as you grip the plastic cup tightly.
You’re surprised when he doesn’t leave, instead he groans as he takes place beside you, resting his hands on the countertop behind him. “Y’know I really don’t understand why he invited you of all people.” He begins and you can feel his eyes roam your body with distaste. Swallowing, you quietly nod as you sip on the drink, it wasn’t at all as bitter as you had expected it to be, rather it tasted kind of sweet.
“I…I don’t know either”, you shyly mumble, keeping the cup to your lips as you occupy yourself with gazing down at the liquid swirling around. Beomgyu scoffs as he shakes his head, “Of course you don’t. No one knows what’s going on in that thick skull of his.” — His words came out…almost insulting, and you wondered why he chose to speak in such a way about his friend.
“You’ve got some guts though, I’ll give you that.” He states, running a hand through his messy hair as his eyes fixate on something in front of him. Surprised at the sudden almost compliment-like statement, you glance up at him in sheer bewilderment. “Not many people in your shoes would’ve come here”, he adds as he gives you a quick one-over. “No offense y’know, but you kinda look…” His nose scrunches up in what you could only guess to be disgust and you bite the inside of your cheek as your gaze drops to your dress.
“O-Oh yeah…I guess.”
Beomgyu chuckles, “My, are you gullible.” You internally wince at his words, a small grimace flickering across your face as you take another sip of your drink. You can feel his eyes on you as Beomgyu studies you closely, a little too close. “Y’know, maybe I do understand why he invited you”, he sniggers, pushing himself off the kitchen island, he leaves without saying another word.
Left confused and yet again, alone, you chew on the plastic of your cup as you wonder how long you would have to stay before it would become appropriate to leave.
⸝⸝
You think an hour had passed, it felt like three. Back pressed against the wall of the open-spaced living room, your eyes roam the makeshift dance floor as you watch the way your classmates enjoy their evening together. Your presence had soon become old news and after your first encounter, Mimi had left you alone, and so did everyone else. You were thankful, you supposed. But you still didn’t know why Yeonjun had invited you, much less why you had even decided to show up. Because right now, he was nowhere to be seen.
You think that you might be able to just sneak out, leave, go home and forget that this evening ever took place. This wasn’t for you, that much you could tell. You would face the embarrassment come Monday, but today, now, all you wanted to do was evaporate.
Standing up a bit straighter, you tug your dress down once more, preparing to leave. It’s only then he makes an appearance. It’s quick, so much so that if it weren’t for the subtle tap to your forearm, you would’ve probably missed him as he passed you by. Your eyes follow Yeonjun’s retreating frame as he aims for the staircase, leading to the second floor. Before climbing the first step, he throws a quick glance over his shoulder, eyes finding yours as he flashes you a small smirk.
You gulp as you watch him disappear again. Nervously chewing on your bottom lip, your gaze flits across the room, no one was looking at you. Still you wait another five minutes before aiming for the stairs as well. Each step forward made your legs feel like jelly and you steadied yourself against the railing.
The second floor consists of a long hallway, with doors either side of it, reaching down to at least four of them. Your heartbeat picks up at the thought of having to push all of them open as you carefully peeked inside. But your attention is drawn to the third one on the right, slightly ajar as a yellow light seeps through its cracks. Hesitantly you venture forward, coming to a halt in front of it as you debate your next move. Did you knock? Call out for him? Was he even there? Maybe you were seeing things. There was only one way to find out was there?
Mustering up whatever courage you have left, you gently push the door open. The room is… a bedroom. A small onesize bed, pushed up against the window alongside the empty bedside table, tells you that it’s most likely a guest room. Your eyes flit to the armchair in the corner, widening as they land on Yeonjun’s figure, sprawled out against the cushion, a hand down his pants as he lazily strokes himself. He watches you with a faint smirk, his head leaning back against the backrest, eyes half lidded as they peer over at you.
What was going on? You glance back and out into the hallway, afraid that someone, anyone, might walk by. What if Mimi came looking for him? But you were almost certain he’d meant for you to follow him. Quickly you shut the door behind you, locking it for good measure. Yeonjun watches your hurried movements with an amused expression, the hand on his cock unwavering.
“W-What’s all this?” You quietly wonder, willing your eyes to look anywhere but him, anywhere but the hand down his trousers. He doesn’t say anything, lifting his free hand, his index finger beckons you over and you hesitantly comply. Stopping by the chair, you awkwardly clasp your hands together in front of you as you wait for him to break the stale silence.
“You look nice tonight.” He finally says, his voice seemingly indifferent as he shamelessly lets his gaze roam your body, stopping at the slight cleavage your dress provided. In the dim light casted by only a small lamp on the drawer next to him, you were unsure if he could make out the blush coating your cheeks or not. “Thank you..”
He hums, readjusting himself on the soft cushions as his legs spread further apart. It takes everything in you not to let your gaze drop. For a moment everything is quiet, and you wonder why he had even bothered to get you up here in the first place. But then he sighs, the small exhale easily garnering your attention as you shift on the spot.
“Have you ever blown someone before?”
He asks the question as if it were any other and you feel the color on your cheeks intensifying. He can’t just ask someone something like that…But then again, there was little Choi Yeonjun couldn’t do. Part of you doesn’t understand why he even bothered to ask, wasn’t it obvious? Another part of you suspects that he wants to hear you admit it, wants to see you get flustered as you shake your head, squeaking out a meek “no, never.”
That’s exactly what you do. — He smirks, a wide smirk, exposing his sharp teeth as his free hand grabs onto one of your own. You let him pull you to your knees, the soft carpet beneath your bare skin felt nice but it was hard to focus on anything but the bulge in front of your face, the movement of his hand visible through the material of his pants.
“I’ll teach you”, he mumbles, letting go of your hand as he pushes your hair back, gaze wandering across the light makeup you had applied, lingering by the cherry red lipstick on your lips. You slowly nod, hands gripping onto the hem of your dress with such force that you’re surprised it doesn’t tear.
Without further warning he leans back, swiftly pulling his cock free from his jeans as he continues to stroke it, now only inches from your face. Sure you and Yeonjun had hooked up before, in the darkness of the small storage unit, in places where you never paid his dick much attention apart from when it was inside of you. This was the first time you actually saw it, you think, and this close too.
Your jaw goes slack as your eyes trail across the large veins climbing up his shaft, coated in a sheer layer of arousal, seeping through his fingers as they wrapped around the length of it. Gulping, you eye the tip, a bright red hue as droplets of precum spilled from the slit. You would be lying if you said that the sight didn’t make your thighs clench together. — Obviously enjoying your stunned response, Yeonjun groans as he gives himself a particularly harsh tug, making your eyes widen further as they flicker from his cock to his face and back again.
“Come here”, he directs you to scoot forward and you do, offering your hand for him to take as he guides it to wrap around his shaft. He felt hard and heavy in your palm, and you bite your lip as you try to gauge his reaction. Letting his hand drop to his sides, Yeonjun sinks back against the cushion as he peers down at you. “Start slow, don’t use too much pressure but don’t be afraid to touch me. I’ll tell you when you can speed up.” He instructs as he lets his head fall back, getting comfortable as he pays you little mind.
Your attention returns to his cock in your hand, doing as he said, you slowly let your palm glide up and down, fingers quickly becoming coated in the shiny layer of his arousal. You can’t tell if he likes it or not, he gives little reaction as he stares up at the ceiling. You want to ask him, you want him to reassure you, but it feels stupid to ask, and you hate feeling stupid.
His hand joins in on top of your own, guiding your fingers to his tip, which you had purposefully avoided as you didn’t know how to approach it. “Flick your wrist like this”, he murmurs, letting your palm glide over the head before returning to stroke him. He only shows you once before his hand moves back to his side. But you can tell that he’s watching you now, eyes tailing your every movement as you repeat what he had just showed you, rolling your hand over his tip, drawing a small huff of air from him.
“Use your thumb”, he breathes, and your gaze flickers to his face in slight confusion before catching on. The next time you twist your wrist over his head, you press the surface of your thumb against the slit. He shudders under you, a small groan passing his lips and your heart speeds up at the small confirmation you just received. It managed to boost your confidence enough to where you gripped him more firmly, experimentally squeezing his cock, just like he had done moments prior, relishing in the way his breath hitched.
“You can go -f-fuck- faster.” He grunts, his hands sliding against the armrests of the chair, fingers digging into the plush cushion. Quickly nodding, you’re happy to oblige, repeating your previous movements but with an increased pace as your eyes dart between his leaking dick and his slightly contorted face.
When he first twitches in your hand, you’re taken back. Surprised by the sudden movement yet you felt yourself throb as you tugged at him even harsher, wanting to pull that very same reaction from him once more. — He’s stopped guiding you, biting down on the inside of his cheek as he tries to muffle whatever noises threaten to escape. You don’t mind, in fact it only spurred you on further as you flicked your wrist over his flushed tip once more.
His hips buck up against your hand as he lets out a strangled noise. His hand quickly finds its way to your hair, brushing it back as he breathes out through his nose. “Fuck, slow down”, he mutters, tugging at your hair as he forces your face up to meet his, “I’ll cum before you’ve even blown me at this rate.” The statement made your chest swell with pride, still, your hand slows down as you settle back into a more languid pace.
He takes a moment to open his eyes, drawing in a few ragged breaths before he does. The hand in your hair moves to your face, cupping your cheeks as he pulls you closer, the tip of his cock merely inches from your lips and you swallow. “Relax”, he says, fingers pulling your mouth open and you let him. “Breathe through your nose, and don’t use your teeth.” — You slowly nod, your hands bracing themselves on his thighs as he taps his cock against your parted lips, smearing his arousal all over your cherry lipstick.
He pushes inside slowly, you wince at the stretch, your mouth widening as much as it allows. The first thing you note is the salty taste, it isn’t particularly strong and you’re relieved. But no matter how hard you tried to relax your jaw, when his cock hit the back of your throat you instinctively pulled back with a small gag. — Yeonjun tsk’s above you, the hand on your cheeks gripping you firmer as he pulls you back onto his dick. “Thought I told you to relax, no?” He murmurs, letting out a breathy moan as you let him slide himself back into your hot mouth.
Your eyes screw shut as you focus on evening out your breathing, taking steady breaths in and out through your nose as you allow your tense frame to relax under him. “Think of it as the same as what you did with your hand.” His fingers relax against your cheek, thumb grazing your skin as he feels the way his cock slides in and out of your pliant lips. — It feels weird at first, uncomfortable too, but after a while you slowly get used to the feeling of him in your mouth.
Hesitantly wrapping your lips around him, you press your tongue flat against him as you carefully bob your head up and down. He groans somewhere above you and your eyes flutter open as you peer up at him through your mascara coated lashes. Yeonjun always looked good, but there was something about him like this, from this view. A sheer layer of sweat that made his dark hair stick to his forehead, his parted lips and furrowed brows, you clenched at the sight, taking him deeper and with much more urgency.
Something about tonight felt…special, perhaps even more intimate than all your past encounters. Maybe it had to do with the change of scenery. The dimly lit bedroom, the plush armchair, the fine carpet, you can’t place it, but something is different. And for the first time, you can only think about Yeonjun, not his girlfriend, his friends or even your classmates. It was only him.
Remembering how you had pressed your thumb against his slit earlier, you pull back to refocus your attention to only his tip, your hand joining in to stroke the rest of him. You press your tongue flat against his head before swirling it to the best of your abilities, watching intently as Yeonjun’s brows drew further together, a breathy moan ripping from deep within his chest.
“F-Fucking hell”, he groans, his head falling back against the cushion. “Fuck ‘m gonna-” His hips jerk forward, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you pull back with a small wince, unprepared for when his hot cum spurted into your mouth. Not really knowing which approach to take, you continue to suck him off, cum dribbling down your chin as you fought to swallow the rest without losing your breath once more. Yeonjun slumps back against the armchair, his hand releasing its hold on your cheeks as he lets it fall to his side.
Carefully pulling off of him, you sit back as you begin wiping your chin with the back of your hand. You steal a glance at him, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. Yeonjun runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head as a small grin etches its way to his lips. — “Was…was it okay?” Your words are barely above a whisper, and he cocks an eyebrow at you, his grin widening.
“Sure it was, nerd.”
You blink up at him, “really?” — He chuckles, tucking himself back into his pants with a small grimace. “Would I have asked you to do it if I had doubts?” He retorts and you bite your lip, no perhaps not you supposed. “You’ll get even better with a bit of practice”, he reassures you, giving your head a light pat before getting up.
He’s reached the door before he turns back to you, “wait another fifteen minutes or so before leaving, yeah?” Without waiting to hear your answer, he unlocks the door and steps out, slamming it shut behind him.
⸝⸝
You spent another thirty minutes aimlessly wandering around the large villa, astonished by how someone could afford a place this big. You still had no clue whose house this even was, and no one seemed to care for the sake either. — Halfway down a long corridor, filled with what you could only assume to be modern art, you suddenly freeze in your tracks as the voices of someone else joins your quiet footsteps.
After spending a rough minute trying to locate the source of the sound, you finally realize that it’s coming from behind one of the larger pillars a few paces ahead. Debating your choices for a solid ten seconds, you opt to try and eavesdrop, if only for a moment. And as you quietly creep forward, their conversation suddenly becomes a lot more clear. — Shuffling to squeeze yourself behind another pillar, you lean against the cool marble as you try and pick up on what’s being said.
You knew the voices belonged to two of the girls from your class, but you were unable to pair them with any faces. — “Did he really?” One of them asks, her voice is slightly high-pitched, almost a bit squeaky. Her friend’s voice is fairly deeper as she replies, “Yes! And it was a week before her birthday too!” A small gasp. “You don’t mean… But with whom?” The first girl asks.
There’s a brief pause, and you, too, find yourself holding your breath as you await the second girl's answer. “With Hera..” You frown, unable to recognize the name but the other girl seemed more than aware as she let out a small shriek, earning a sharp “hush!” from her friend. — “But that’s…” the first girl begins only to be interrupted by her friend, “her best friend.”
Their conversation made little sense in your ears, and with a small sigh you turned to walk the other way when suddenly, a familiar name surfaced. — “But it was kind of obvious was it not”, the girl with the deeper voice begins, “Yeonjun has cheated on Mimi with practically all of her friends. She’s bound to find out some day, it’s only a matter of time.”
You felt your face fall as your heart plummeted through your stomach. Had you heard them right? You hoped you hadn’t but the first girl quickly butts in as she confirms what you dreaded. “I told her from the start that Yeonjun was promiscuous, but she didn’t listen of course”, the girl huffs as her friend hums in agreement. “Better her than me”, she adds.
You had heard enough. That was it, you were going home. Turning on your heel, you quietly dart down the long corridor. — You knew that you didn't have a reason to be upset, hell he had even cheated on his girlfriend with you. It still didn’t stop the tears that pricked in your eyes as you pushed past the crowd in the kitchen. A small part of you had thought, perhaps even hoped that maybe, maybe what he saw in you was different from what he saw in Mimi. God you’re so stupid. You quietly mutter, reaching the open living room just in time to see who you had hoped you wouldn’t.
Near the front door, leaning against the wall, was Yeonjun, arms wrapped around his girlfriend’s frame as she pressed sloppy kisses to his neck. Your mind flashes with the images of what had taken place between the two of you not even an hour ago. Yet here he was, shamelessly buttering his so-called girlfriend up as if he hadn’t had you on his cock moments prior. And to think that you had allowed yourself to become part of his crowd, it was disgusting.
You finally saw Choi Yeonjun for what he really was. A fucking asshole. And with that clarification in mind, you forcefully push past the pair as you march out of the front door, leaving the still lively party behind as you begin your journey home.
⸝⸝
Monday came all too fast. The aftermath of the party is still fresh in your mind as you rummage through your locker. You had spent the whole weekend reanalyzing your every interaction with Yeonjun; from the day you first met to the thirty minutes spent in the guest bedroom just two days ago. You questioned his true intentions, more than twice. But no matter how many hours you tossed and turned in bed, you got no closer to solving the mystery that was Choi Yeonjun.
Slamming the red steel door shut, you almost drop the books in your arm as you come face to face with the person you least wanted to see. — Yeonjun leans against the locker next to yours as he studies your face intently. Quickly you turn around to see if anyone was watching the two of you before shifting your attention back to him. “What are you doing?” You whisper as you watch him with a wary expression.
He only shrugs, a small grin playing on his lips. “See me after class”, he nods in the direction of the stairs, leading to the third floor and you internally sigh. Still, you should talk to him, you really should, so you nod. “Okay.” — His grin widens as Yeonjun pushes himself off the locker, continuing down the hallway without another word.
You find yourself counting down the hours, lesson after lesson, your eyes remain glued to the clock on the wall. In fact, you’re so focused on the afternoon ahead that the insults thrown your way merely passes over your head. — Then finally, after what feels like an eternity, you find yourself walking up the steps and past the doors as you neared room 291.
He was already there, waiting for you. And as soon as the red door closes behind you, he’s got you pressed up against it, hungry lips on yours within a matter of seconds as his hands roam your body. It was easy to get caught up in his world, his kisses and his touches, you have to remind yourself of why you came here. His name falls from your lips, but it’s not the usual desperate whine, it’s serious, you know that he can tell, humming against your lips yet his hands don’t stray away from wandering beneath your shirt.
"Yeonjun, wait."
He stills, if only for a moment, leaning back slightly as his lips brush against yours. Taking in a deep breath, you prepare yourself for the conversation to come. You had rehearsed it many times in your head, but as you glance up at him in the dim light of the storage unit, you find it hard to even look him in the eyes. “I…I’ve been thinking”, you slowly begin, watching the faint smirk that surfaces on his face. “Don’t you always, nerd.” He mutters, his hands resuming their journey up your chest, flicking the buttons to your shirt open as his mouth leaves hot kisses against your neck.
You try to ignore the burning sensation sparking through your body, forcing yourself to go through with what you wanted to say. “Yes but, I’ve been thinking about…about us.” — Your words make his hands around your breasts stutter and he goes quiet against you. Biting your lip, you hold your breath as you wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t, only humming against your skin as he continues to litter you in red marks.
“What makes you think there is an ‘us’?”
His question makes your composure fall as you let out a shaky exhale. “There isn't?" You hesitantly ask, already anticipating the answer you were bound to receive. — He pulls away from you with a perplexed expression. Then he laughs, it’s short, cruel, he shakes his head. “Don’t be funny”, he mutters as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “You know that I have a girlfriend, nerd.” He spits the words out like the venomous bite of a snake. His gaze drops to your unbuttoned blazer, briefly passing the harsh bruises he’d previously left on your chest.
“Don’t think you’re anything else besides a quick fuck.”
Oh. There it was. He finally said it, he finally confirmed what you had been dreading all along. You weren’t stupid, you knew that whatever the two of you had was nothing romantic. But hearing those words come out of his mouth, it hurt more than you ever thought it would’ve. Still, it was just what you needed. With your palms pressed against his chest, you push him back, as far away from you as the small room allowed.
“I don’t think I want to be that.”
Your voice is trembling as you speak and you have to force your gaze not to drop down to your shoes. Letting your hands fall back against your sides, you draw in a small breath, holding it as you watch Yeonjun’s face form into a confused frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He huffs, sounding almost angry as his hands clenched into fists before relaxing again.
You bite the inside of your cheek, giving a meek shrug of your shoulders. “I don’t want to be just a… a quick fuck.” You murmur, unable to maintain his intense gaze, you let your eyes drop to the floor. He scoffs, leaning back against the shelves with such force that the items behind him rattled. “Do you honestly believe that anyone else is even going to consider fucking you, nerd?” He was pissed, that much you could tell.
Shaking your head, you blink away the tears that had managed to form in your eyes. “I don’t care, I just…”, you exhale, praying that your voice wouldn’t break as you continued, “I just don’t think this is for me.” — Yeonjun laughs, the same laugh that echoed off the classroom walls as he made fun of you. You realize then just how fucked up your situation had become. How could you have allowed yourself to stoop to such a level?
“I gave you so much, and you… you don’t think that it’s for you?” He jeers, taking a step forward as he comes face to face with you once more. But now none of the previous lust and desire remained, only fury. All you can do is continuously shake your head, not daring to meet his gaze. “No. It’s not.” You state as you tear your eyes from the floor, it takes everything in you to not have your resolve crumbling as you peer up at him.
“So let’s stop.”
You motion toward the small unit you were currently standing in. “Whatever this is, was, let’s end it now.” You swallow, hard, the sound ringing in your ears. Yeonjun runs a hand through his hair once more, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek as his eyes flit between you and the door. “You want to end things? Fine.” His voice lacks all the anger it previously held, now sounding almost monotone.
“But don’t come crying when you realize just how much you’re about to lose.” He drawls, eyes boring into yours one final time before he pushes past you, knocking you back against the wall as he rips the door open. Darkness envelops you as soon as it's slammed shut behind him, and you finally let out the sob you had been holding in.
⸝⸝
You didn’t go to school that following Tuesday, nor Wednesday. It was the first time you had missed a whole day since your junior year in highschool. Was it pathetic? Probably. Curled up on your bed, you spent the two days in front of your laptop, binging whatever show seemed appealing as you sniffled into a tissue. — You wanted to go back in time, back to when you only knew Yeonjun as the obnoxious leader of bullies from your class, back to when things were simple.
You wondered what he might’ve said about you in your absence. What kind of lies he might’ve conducted, surely he wouldn’t just sit still. You dreaded returning, but you knew that it was inevitable, and as Thursday rolled around, you pulled yourself from bed.
The classroom was empty when you arrived, there was another thirty minutes left but you had chosen to get there earlier to save yourself perhaps at least a few stares as you walked toward your desk. You had missed a lot, you were sure, two days was a long time to be away from school and you worried that you would have a lot of reading to do when you came back home. Though you supposed the distraction of studying would be nice.
It’s about ten minutes left until class when the first few students emerged from the doors, swinging their bags down on their desks as they chatted loudly with one another. “Watch it nerd!” A girl sneers as she gives the leg of your chair a harsh kick, you grip onto the edge of your table as you hang your head low. But beside that, nothing happens, and you frown. You were sure it was going to be worse than this, but it wasn’t. For the first time ever you felt relieved that your classmates were treating you indifferent. Well, all except one.
Yeonjun doesn’t show up to first period. And just as you think he’s about to be absent for the second one as well, the door is pushed open as he walks inside. Yeonjun seldom did what he was supposed to in class, but he always brought his bag, not today though. You tried to not let your eyes linger, inevitably failing as you watched him pull out his chair and sit down, his hands remaining in his pockets as he leaned back to gaze across the board with a lazy expression. In regular fashion, Beomgyu goes off about a random topic next to him as Soobin twirls a pen between his fingers, seemingly bored out of his mind.
Class begins, and ends, and nothing happens. Not even as much as a glare in your direction. It was just like before, before the two of you were ever intimate, Yeonjun acted as if you didn’t exist, and you watched him. But this time, you didn’t feel a sense of longing, honestly, you didn’t know what you felt. Relief, a sense of mourning, regret? You didn’t like the way your stomach felt when you looked at him, so you stopped.
⸝⸝
Weeks went by, the bullying never stopped, why would it? You kept quiet, your gaze downcast as you moved through the hallways. It worked, because you rarely saw him anymore. You didn’t know if he was avoiding you or not, you didn’t care. It felt nice to not care. The only thing tugging away at you now… was the loneliness. It wasn’t like Yeonjun acted friendly with you, especially not during school hours, but he had made you feel less alone. In the most fucked up way possible, he was the only one you had ever had some kind of relationship with since your first day here. And a small part of you missed it.
But even the loneliness would one day stop.
You blink up as a plate is placed opposite yours in the crowded cafeteria. Confused, your eyes darted between the boy before of you and the plenty of empty tables. He doesn’t seem to care as he slides down on the chair in front of yours. “You’re the junior girl who takes classes with the seniors right?” He asks as he tilts his head to the side, studying you with wide and curious eyes. — Still wary of the intentions behind his move to sit with you, you slowly nod, “I am.”
He smiles, it was perhaps one of the first genuine smiles you had received since you started here. Shuffling a bit closer, he offers his hand for you to shake, which you hesitantly do. “I’m Hueningkai, but you can just call me Kai.” He says as you let go of his hand once more. — “I’m a junior too, but I’m stuck with everyone else our age”, he explains with a coy smile.
You nod, taking a small sip of your water. His eyes shift to the book placed next to your tray. “Lord Of The Rings?” He asks and you hum as you turn it around for him to see. “I love those books!” He exclaims as he brings it to his face, studying the back intently. “I’m re-reading them..” You quietly mumble as your gaze flickers between him and the glass in your hand. Kai sets the book down as he turns to you, “you mean you’ve read all this more than once? Sick!”
That was how you met Kai. You don’t know why he approached you, you didn’t care to ask. All you knew was that you had finally found a friend. And though the two of you still took separate classes, you always stayed behind to study together, ate lunch just the two of you, and walked each other to class. It felt nice to have someone to talk to, even though you didn’t tell him about you and Yeonjun, he still listened to you as you explained all of the bullying.
You were amongst the last to return to class after lunch one lousy Tuesday. Kai and you had spent the entire break discussing quantum physics, and you had only realized the time once you went to search something up on your phone, making you rush to class. Not thinking much of the rare occurrence, you make your way over to your desk by the very back of the room, only freezing when one of your classmates addresses you.
“What’s got you coming in so late, nerd?” He sneers as he leans back in his chair to see you better. With the intention of not replying, you take your seat as you begin rummaging through your stuffed bag. But when another girl butts in, you feel yourself go stiff. “Don’t you know?” She drawls, easily garnering the first guy’s attention as well as everyone around her. Even the Choi’s seemed to be listening as Beomgyu put down his phone. You held your breath, anticipating the worst yet it somehow ended up being so far from anything you could’ve ever imagined.
“Nerd’s got a boyfriend.” She exclaims, watching triumphantly as everyone began whispering amongst each other, hushed murmurs carrying around the room. You felt your face burn as you glanced toward Yeonjun’s table. — He was still scrolling absentmindedly on his phone, but the way his jaw clenched, accompanied with the small frown of his brows, made your stomach sink just slightly.
“That’s such bullshit!” Mimi exclaims as she throws you a harsh glare. But the girl who’d announced the news merely shakes her head. “I’ve seen them myself!” She retorts as she folds her arms across her chest. “That junior boy, y’know the blonde one.” — “I’ve seen them too!” Someone else chirps in and the girl is quick to nod.
“They always eat lunch together too”, the girl turns to you with a wide smirk, “isn’t that right nerd?” — Your fingers curled around the pencil in your hand, gripping it with such force that it might break. You don’t look at her, gaze dropping to your table as you merely shook your head, earning a scoff from the girl as she turned back to the rest of the class.
“Shit, are you serious?” Beomgyu wonders as he leans forward in his chair. But before the girl has a chance to reply, Yeonjun cuts her off. “Don’t be stupid”, he mutters as he pulls Beomgyu back by the collar of his shirt. — “What the fuck man, it’s just a question”, he whines as he rubs his now sore neck. Yeonjun huffs as his gaze remains glued to his phone screen, “of course she isn’t serious. Stop believing her bullshit.”
Beomgyu falls silent at his words and so does everyone else. The next few minutes are awkward as everyone scrambles to occupy themselves with whatever they could find, desperately wishing for your professor to walk through the doors.
⸝⸝
The sound of the old library doors being pushed open shifts your focus from the book in your lap as you glance up just in time to see Kai approaching your desk. He smiles, waving his hand enthusiastically and you find yourself reciprocating the small move. — “Sorry I’m late”, he apologizes as he takes the seat next to yours, pulling a few books from his bag. “It’s fine, really”, you assure him as you place your own book down.
It had become routine for the two of you to meet up and study together, well, you often just talked the hours away, but neither of you seemed to mind the lack of work getting done. “Which chapter are you on?” He wonders, and you slide the book over for the two of you to share, “fifteen.” He nods as he scoots closer, your shoulders practically touching as you take turns reading and scribbling down notes.
Usually you didn’t mind the close proximity, but when thinking back of what had transpired after lunch earlier that day, you felt different. Ever since your break up with Yeonjun, if break up was even what you could call it, you had little desire to enter into a new relationship. But the more you mulled over your classmate’s words, the more sense it all seemed to make. — Eating lunch together, walking each other to class, even now, you both sat so close that you could hear the pattern of his breathing.
Kai was cute. He was the type of cute that made you look back twice when you passed him on the street, the type of cute that made you want to revisit the small café because of the waiter that had served you, the type of cute that you wanted to bring home to your parents. — Not only was he cute, he was nice too, you felt happy, comforted, in his presence. Unlike Yeonjun, Kai only made you feel giddy inside as you longed to see him. He never made you second guess his intentions or yourself.
But there was still something missing, something that you couldn’t quite place. Something that Yeonjun had made you feel by just stepping into the same room as you. You hated yourself for comparing your new friend to someone like him, but it felt almost impossible not to. You didn’t care about Choi Yeonjun anymore, so why did he continue to haunt the subconscious parts of your mind?
As if on cue, Kai turns around in his seat, his nose almost grazing your own due to how close you sat. “Hey are you following along?” He wonders, seemingly concerned as a small frown tugs at his brows. Blinking, you shake your head, “sorry no..” — You swallow, willing yourself to be honest with him, you need to be.
“Can I…can I tell you something?” You hesitantly ask, gnawing on your bottom lip as you twirl your pencil anxiously between your fingers. He nods, a small smile painting his lips, “of course!” — Awkwardly clearing your throat, you think of a way to begin the whole thing. “W-Well basically…Everyone in my class they-”
Your words get stuck in your throat, not because you were afraid of uttering them, not because Kai made you in any way feel uneasy. But because the oak doors to the library opened once more, the sound almost deafening to your ears, eyes becoming glued to Yeonjun’s frame as he enters. It doesn’t take him long to spot you, his already spiteful expression seemingly worsening as his gaze locks with yours.
He grasps a book tightly in one hand, walking over to the front desk as he practically slams it on the table, making everyone inside the room jump as their heads turn in his direction. Yeonjun however, pays them little mind, his eyes never straying from yours as the old librarian goes to check out his book. — Even Kai’s attention had shifted toward your classmate, watching as Yeonjun leaned against the desk with a scowl on his face.
“Isn’t he in your class?” He wonders as the frown on his face deepens. You nod, “ignore him”, you mumble as you shift uncomfortably under his intense gaze. “But he’s looking at you..” Kai states and you shake your head again, “please let’s just ignore him.” — Finally, Kai tears his gaze from him as he gives you a small nod, “of course. So what’d you want to tell me?”
Oh right. “Well I… It’s a bit weird, promise you won’t be freaked out.” You begin as you bite your lip, feeling an evident blush rise on your cheeks. Kai nods as he takes your hand, the small action somehow making the whole thing even worse but you couldn’t find it in you to push him off. From the corner of your eye, you can make out Yeonjun’s figure as he watches the two of you, his mere presence made the hairs on the back of your neck stand.
“My classmates they…they sort of think we’re…well they think we’re dating..” You quietly mumble, the last part becoming nothing more but a faint whisper. You can easily read his surprise as Kai’s eyes widen, his gaze flitting down to his hand on top of yours as he swallows. “Oh.” Is all he says. — “I hope it doesn’t make things weird between us”, you quickly add, your voice near pleading as you search his gaze.
Biting the inside of his cheek, Kai slowly nods as he keeps his eyes on your hands. “No I suppose it doesn’t… I mean, it’s not like it’s true..” He says, offering you a small smile as his gaze returns to your face. You nod, “y-yeah, exactly..” — Daring to steal a glance in the direction of Yeonjun, you barely manage to catch his retreating figure as he exits the library, oak doors slamming shut behind him.
Kai follows your gaze, his hand on top of yours moving back to rest on his lap as his eyes flicker between the spot where Yeonjun just vanished and your almost longing expression. He sighs.
⸝⸝
It’s nearing 6pm when you finally part ways outside the library. And after waving Kai off, you turn to walk up the flight of stairs leading to your locker. The hallways are vacant, your low heel shoes clacking against its floors as you readjust your heavy bag on your shoulder. — Your footsteps come to an abrupt halt about halfway down the long corridor, your eyes spotting a tall figure, leaning against the red lockers by the end of the hall. You swallow, easily recognizing his lean frame. It’s too late to turn back, you know that he’s heard you already.
“Have you been waiting here all along?” You wonder, stopping a few paces from him, maintaining a good distance as you shift your weight over to one leg. Yeonjun’s head, previously leaning against the red steel behind him, lazily turns in your direction as he studies you with a tired expression. “No.” — You knew it was a lie.
“Then why are you here?” For once, it’s your gaze boring into his, and not the other way around. Yeonjun remains silent, his hands digging deep into the pockets of his pants, his eyes roaming your body just like they had so many times before. He doesn’t say anything. You wait for him to speak, you wait for two whole minutes. Nothing.
With a small huff, you give up as you approach your locker. Now only inches from him, you type your code in as the red door clicks open. Pulling your books from your bag, he watches you as you place them neatly inside the small space. You bite your tongue, refraining from saying the many things on your mind. It would only complicate the situation further. — It’s not until you close the locker again, turning around as you get ready to leave, that he finally breaks the silence.
“Is it true?”
You freeze, slowly turning back to face him with a small frown. Still leaning against the lockers, he tilts his head to the side, his expression holds no amusement, not even anger, just…emptiness. You had never seen him like that before. — “What?” The surprise is evident in your voice, and you watch as he pushes himself off the lockers, moving to face you completely. “You and him, is it true?” He repeats his question and your breath gets stuck in your throat at the mention of Kai.
You didn’t want him to become the next affection of Yeonjun’s harsh bullying. More than anything, you wanted to maintain the only friendship you had, you could not have your past mistakes getting in the way of it. — “Does it matter?” Your stance remains guarded as you fold your arms across your chest. He cocks an eyebrow in your direction, his lip twitching, “of course not.”
Confused, you frown, you had forgotten how near impossible he was to read. “Well then there you have your answer.” You firmly state. He shakes his head, and you could’ve sworn you caught the small grin on his face before it vanished again. “So then it is true..” — “Yes.” The small word of confirmation slips from your lips without you even realizing it. But it was too late to take it back now. Yeonjun frowns, he seems almost surprised at your immediate response.
“It’s true that we hang out everyday. It’s true that he makes me smile, and laugh. It’s true that he cares for me and I for him. All of it is true, is that what you wanted to hear?” You’re almost out of breath by the end of your small rant. — Yeonjun’s jaw clenches, hands curling into fists inside his pockets as he draws in a sharp breath through his nose.
“So does it really matter if it’s true or not when he treats me in a way that makes me feel loved and appreciated?” You’re unable to hinder yourself from letting out all the emotions that you had kept pent up during the past weeks. And by the end, your voice sounds as if it’s about to break at any moment. — But he doesn’t say anything. His expression remained as indifferent as possible, watching the way your chest heaved as you caught your breath again.
His silence felt heavier than a thousand words. Part of you wants to swallow your statement again, another part is relieved to finally have gotten it out. You quickly realized that you probably wouldn’t get another response from him, and thus you made your second move to leave. Except this time, he acts faster.
Fingers wrapping around your wrist, Yeonjun prevents you from taking another step away from him. His grip is tight, but not enough to hurt, you can feel the slight tremble to his hand and your gaze dart between his hold on you to his now determined expression.
“I could too.”
His voice is low, yet the sentence echoes off the empty hallway walls. Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, blood rushing beneath your skin as your wide eyes meet his. — “I could make you feel like that too.” His voice is clearer now, steadier, and he takes a step forward. You find yourself shaking your head, making him frown. “Why, don’t you believe me?”
The question made you scoff. “Of course I don’t.” You exclaim as you withdraw your arm from his grip, he lets you, briefly glancing down to his now empty hand before letting it fall to his side. “You’ve said it yourself. I’m nothing besides a quick fuck, right?” — He bites the inside of his cheek, your words undoubtedly true.
Maybe three weeks ago, his small statement would’ve been able to sway you, to make your heart beat a little faster. Now it only felt like he was rubbing salt onto your barely healed wounds. Just as you had gotten over him, just as you had finally made a real friend, he had to go and ruin it all again by saying exactly what you both dreaded and longed to hear from him. And you hated him for it. You hated Choi Yeonjun.
Tears stung in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks. You couldn’t let him see you cry. — He grabs onto you a second time as you turn to leave, pulling you flush against his chest with such haste that you barely have time to register what’s happening before his lips are on yours. “Don’t go”, he breathes into your mouth, kissing you with such urgency that you thought he might just be on the verge of dying.
Your hands are on his chest within seconds as you pry him off. “Stop. Just stop.” Your pleading voice cuts like knives through the air and he pulls back with a stunned expression. Shaking your head, you tear yourself from him as you take a step back. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you. But it better stop.” He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. “Don’t let me get my hopes up only to crush them again.”
Refusing to hear him out any longer, you quickly turn on your heel as you hurriedly walk down the hallway, leaving him behind as he runs a hand through his dark hair.
⸝⸝
The next day, Yeonjun doesn’t show up to school. You’re just as confused as everyone else, your eyes darting toward the door every other second, thinking that it might be him, but it never is. — “Is he sick?” Someone asks but Beomgyu only shakes his head, leaning back in his chair with a small huff, “beats me.” Ah, so he didn’t know either. Gnawing on your bottom lip, you’re suddenly filled with worry, was it because of what happened yesterday? Was he actually hurt by it? No, surely not, it was Choi Yeonjun after all.
It’s not until the doors bursts open once more, revealing a disheveled Mimi, that realization slowly starts to set in. Her usually put together face is in ruins as makeup has been smeared across her cheeks. Heads turn in her direction as one of her friends guides her over to her desk. — “What happened?” A guy asks only to be hushed by her friend, quietly mouthing out the words: “he broke up with her.”
Everyone seems to fall silent after that, allowing Mimi’s quiet sobs to fill the room as you wait for class to start. — He broke up with her… You blink, glancing down to the empty page in your notebook as you swallow. Did that also have anything to do with what happened yesterday? Once again you’re left feeling guilty, Yeonjun always seemed to make you feel that way.
When your professor finally arrives, the lecture moves slowly, agonizingly so. And for once, you didn’t find any joy in your studies. Sure it might also have something to do with the persistent feeling of being watched. — Turning your head ever so slightly to the right, you find Soobin’s eyes locked on your unnerved frame. Not even when he knows that you’ve caught him does he turn away.
He continues to watch you throughout the day. Wherever you went, he seemed to be there too. Eyes boring into you at all times, an indifferent expression on his face. He knew something, that much you were sure of.
⸝⸝
Finally, as your last lesson comes to an end, you manage to slip past Soobin’s prying gaze as you hurried down the stairs to meet Kai. The two of you had begun accompanying each other on the way home as you both took the bus from the same station. — You find him waiting by the entrance, a large smile plastered across his face and as soon as your eyes fell on him, all worries were washed away.
“How was class?” He asks as you walk down the courtyard. You shrug, swinging your bag in front of you cheerily, “nothing out of the ordinary.” — “No mean comments, no nothing?” He wonders and you bite the inside of your cheek, “no…actually not.” After the news of Mimi’s breakup, everyone had fallen into this sort of trance where no one seemed to want to bring attention to themselves. Thus you had been left alone all day, which felt both nice and incredibly weird.
Kai hums, the two of you were walking so close that your arms brushed together, but you didn’t mind. Once you reach the large gates leading out onto the streets however, you freeze. Stopping a pace in front of you, Kai turns to you with a small frown, “something wrong?” — You shake your head, “no…I just.. think I left a book behind, you go ahead.”
He opens his mouth, as if to object but you quickly interrupt him, “it’s fine! I wouldn’t want you to miss your bus”, you reassure him as you offer a small smile. “Then what about you?” He wonders but you just wave it off in a disregarding manner, “I’ll take the next one, don’t worry about me.” He doesn’t seem entirely convinced but the small hug you give him makes him nod. “Alright, text me when you get home”, he says and you quickly agree as you send him off.
You watch him disappear down the pavement with a small sigh. Not until he’s completely out of sight do you turn to cross the street. You walk with long and determined strides, not stopping until you reach the large tree by the sidewalk. — Yeonjun isn’t wearing his usual school uniform, instead he’s dressed in a dark pair of jeans, a black jacket wrapped around his torso to prevent the chilly December air from getting to him. He leans against the naked tree trunk, his gaze flickering from the concrete beneath him and over to you as you approach.
Feet planting in front of his, you cross your arms as you peer up at him with an expectant look on your face. He doesn’t say anything, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. Unable to bear the silence, you break it. “You didn’t come to school today.” You don’t know why you stated the obvious, perhaps you wanted him to explain himself, but he doesn’t, only nodding silently.
Frustrated, you run a hand through your hair. He wanted to talk to you, right? That’s why he was waiting across the street from your college, openly risking being spotted by your classmates. So why wasn’t he saying anything? — Huffing out a short breath, you part your lips to say something, but he’s quicker than you.
“I broke up with her”, he calmly states. His posture remains relaxed as he speaks but his eyes search yours with something akin to desperation. — “I know.” You mumble, biting the inside of your lip before continuing, “she was crying all day, did you know that?” He scoffs, “so?” His nonchalant approach made you frown, “so? Don’t you care?” Your question is met by the mere shake of his head as he shrugs, “no, do you?”
“I do.”
He hadn’t expected your answer, you could tell by the way his face dropped, if only for a moment. “Why? It’s not exactly like she’s a good person.” He jeers, shoving his hands deeper into the denim pockets of his jeans. “And you are?” Even though your voice remains steady, there’s a linger of hurt between your quiet words. — He goes silent in front of you as his gaze flits between yours and the entrance behind him.
“Why are you even here, Yeonjun?” Your tone is near accusing and he looks almost guilty as his attention shifts back to you. He swallows, rubbing a hand along his neck, as if stalling for time. You bite your tongue, waiting patiently for him to speak. — “Why do you like him?”, he finally asks. It hardly took a genius to guess who he was referring to.
You sigh, observing the way the naked branches of the tree moved against the mild breeze. “I told you, didn’t I?” You drawl, readjusting the bag swung over your shoulder. The corner of his mouth twitches as Yeonjun shakes his head, “that’s not what I wanted to hear.” — “And you think you’re in a position to make demands like that?” You snort, watching as he pushes himself off the tree before taking a step in your direction.
Leaning back to glance up at him, you try your best to hold your ground as he tilts his head to the side, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you. “Then tell me what I need to do.” — Your mouth falls open as you gawk at him, what was he implying? Taking a step back only ends up with him taking yet another forward, his hands coming up from his pockets to rest on your shoulders.
“Tell me how to be like him.”
Slowly you realize just what he was asking of you. Immediately shaking your head, you take yet another step back. “It doesn’t work like that.” You quietly murmur, averting your gaze to avoid looking him in the eyes. He frowns, a confused frown, “sure it does”, he says, sounding almost hopeful as he grips your shoulders tighter. “Just tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”
Did he honestly think that everything could be undone just like that? The pain, the tears, the bullying, that he could take it all back just because he wanted to? Just because he had a change of heart? The thought was almost as ridiculous as his proposal. — This was Choi Yeonjun, he wasn’t about to change his ways just because of you, you should know that. Whatever this was, this moment of confusion, it wouldn’t last, and you had to pull out before you got hurt, again.
“I don’t know what you want from me…” You bite back the harsh insults waiting on your tongue, shaking your head once more. “I don’t know what it is, and I don’t care. Please just stop confusing me”, you almost beg as you try to pry his hands off of you. — Yeonjun looks perplexed as he lets you push him off. “Confusing you? I don’t–”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” You retort, your voice growing in intensity as you failed to hold back the anger and resentment you held for him. “I let you screw me over, I let you use me, humiliate me, I put up with all of it, because…” You exhale, taking a step forward as you point an accusing finger to his chest. “Because at one point I thought that I liked you, but I don’t. I know exactly what you are and I know that you won’t change.”
He frowns, his fingers wrapping around your wrist on his chest. “You don’t know the first thing about m-” — “I do.” You cut him off, aware of the way his jaw clenches as his grip on your wrist tightens. “I know that you cheat, you lie, you use people as you please, and worst of all, you don’t even feel guilty about it.”
You tear yourself from his grasp, stumbling backward as you cradle your sore wrist. “I know far from everything about you”, you state, watching him bite the inside of his cheek as he fights off the remark he so desperately wished to fire. — “But I know that I hate you. And that’s enough reason for me to stay as far away from you as possible.”
“So please, leave me the fuck alone.”
As soon as you turn around to dart down the street, the tears spill from your eyes as you sob into your open palm. More than anything, you regret ever becoming infatuated with him.
⸝⸝
Yeonjun didn’t come to school the following day either, nor the day after that. People stopped asking about him, only becoming disregarded by both Beomgyu and Soobin as the two kept to themselves. Yet the taller’s persistent stares remained as Soobin watched your every move, like a hawk stalking its prey. Even now, as you sat by your usual table, listening to Kai as he rambled on about a random topic, did you feel his gaze on you.
“D-Did you hear me?”
Kai’s hesitant voice snaps you from your trance as your eyes shift to his fidgety frame. Nervously twisting the hem of his uniform, he gives you a sheepish smile. You blink, “I…s–sorry what did you say?” You wonder, feeling a bit embarrassed by your lack of engagement as he spoke. But Kai only shakes his head, the tips of his ears turning pink as he clears his throat. “I was wondering if… if you would maybe want to study this weekend a-at my place?”
You could tell that it had taken almost all his courage to ask the simple question. But somehow you find yourself comparing it to how easy such demands had fallen from Yeonjun’s lips as he shamelessly took whatever he wanted. Internally you curse yourself for letting your mind so comfortably shift to the subject of Yeonjun when you had tried so hard to forget about him.
“Sure I would love to!” You smile, heart swelling at the endearing sight before you as Kai’s face practically explodes in an ocean of red. “R-Really?” He asks and you nod, “of course!” — You’re about to ask him what time would be suitable when suddenly a large shadow is casted over your table. Squinting up your eyes lock with none other than Choi Soobin as he peers down at you with a vacant expression.
“I need to talk to you.” He states in a monotone voice, jutting his chin toward the large entryway of the cafeteria. Your gaze flits between him and Kai as your friend shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “O-Okay”, you quietly mumble, giving Kai an apologetic look as you get up to trail after Soobin’s tall frame.
He walks fast, and you almost have to jog in order to keep up. Pushing past the crowded hallways, Soobin doesn’t seem to mind the multiple glances shot his way. The two of you walk for a good five minutes without stopping, and just as you’re about to ask where you’re going, he comes to an abrupt halt, making you almost facepalm against his back.
With the light kick of his foot, the door to a vacant classroom swings open and he steps inside, seemingly waiting for you to do the same. — Once the door is shut behind you, he turns to lean against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. Nervously, you tug at the collar of your blazer as you glance around the dark room.
You don’t think you had been alone with Soobin, ever. Nor did you think that you had ever heard him utter more than two words out loud. And he had never directed a single one to you. So to say that your current situation was surprising, would be a grave understatement. — You think a whole minute must have passed when he finally speaks. But the words coming out of his mouth made you wish for everything to be silent again.
“What’s your deal with Yeonjun?”
His voice is low, barely above a murmur, and deep too. Not at all like his snarky friends whose laughs would echo off the hallways. You swallow, hard, the sound is audible in the otherwise quiet room. Unlike Beomgyu, Soobin never once picked on you, nor did he join in when the others were laughing, at best or worst, he would give a small grin. — If it were Beomgyu you would at least expect him to be mad in a situation like this, but Soobin remains eerily calm as he watches you from a distance, just like he had these past three days.
“I don’t think that’s any of your business”, you stand your ground, despite the fact that it felt as if the floor was literally shaking beneath you. He chuckles, it’s breathy, almost inaudible. “You don’t need to act so prideful, he’s told me everything about you.” — It feels as if all air has been knocked out of your lungs. So he did know something.
“Everything?” You exhale, your breath near trembling. He gives a curt nod, “everything, except for why he isn’t here today”, he mutters, seemingly displeased with the fact. — A small frown etches its way to your face, lips parting in confusion. “I know you’ve got something to do with it.” He states, tilting his head back as he gazes up toward the ceiling. “But he won’t tell me what.”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance down to the floor, the uneven wood planks suddenly seeming very intriguing. “I couldn’t possibly know why he–” — “Don’t bullshit me.” He snaps, his eyes flickering back to you within milliseconds. Your breath gets caught in your throat as you flinch, taking a small step back before your thighs hit the table behind you. Soobin ignores your skittish reactions as he continues. “I don’t know what he’s getting at, going for someone like you.” He says it with such distaste that it makes your skin crawl.
Before you know it, he takes a step forward, then another one, and another one, until he’s got you caged against the desk. He doesn't say anything, one of his hands reaching into his pocket as he rummages through it. Pulling up a folded piece of paper, he shoves it into your open palm. “He asked me to give you this.” — He brushes his hand against his jeans as he takes a step back.
“Fix whatever you caused.” Is all he says before turning on his heel to leave again. Upon yanking the door open, he’s met with Kai’s alarmed frame as he jumps to the side. Sparing him a mere side glance, Soobin shoves past him as he takes off down the hallway. — You shove the small paper in the pocket of your blazer as you walk over to your friend with a sheepish smile. “Hey how long have you been standing-”
“You and Yeonjun?” He asks, almost baffled as he eyes you, full of distrust. The smile immediately vanishes from your face and your throat suddenly goes dry. “W-What?” You ask, still not registering his question fully, hoping that maybe you had heard him wrong. Kai shakes his head, his jaw momentarily clenching. “Just how much exactly did you hear?” You quietly whisper.
He gives you a small shrug, “enough.” — He sighs, looking almost defeated as he runs a hand through his blond hair. “I thought you…I mean the two of you, I never thought…” Frowning, he gives up with a small huff and you bite your lip, reaching out a hesitant hand to place on his shoulder, but he only jerks away from your touch.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds hurt, you can tell he is. The guilt was slowly seeping back into your veins, Yeonjun always made you feel guilty, but this time…this time it was your own doing. “I’m sorry.” The apology is genuine, you hope he can tell. Because you really are sorry, sorry for not being honest with your only friend.
Kai looks at you, his eyes hold so much pain that you wondered just how deep your lie had stung. “Do you like him?” He asks, his voice sounds strained, as if he was holding back tears. The question catches you off guard and you blink. Did you like him? No, of course not. You hated him. You hated Choi Yeonjun.
“No, nevermind, don’t answer.” He shakes his head, “I don’t care.” — You fumble for words, wanting to say anything that would comfort him. It felt almost impossible. “I- I’m sorry I should’ve told you I–” — “Yeah you should’ve.” He bites back, his unusually harsh tone making you wince. “You should’ve told me a long time ago. Before I..” He cuts himself off, biting his cheek as his gaze drops to the floor.
“Before what?” You quietly wonder, noting the way his shoulders slumped as he exhaled a shaky breath. “Before I liked you.” His voice is merely above a whisper, his attention strained to the floor as he refused to look you in the eyes. Your mouth falls open, it wasn’t like you were completely unaware. Kai’s lingering touches and stares didn’t go unnoticed but you had never imagined that his feelings ran this deep.
“You like me?”
He scoffs, dragging his feet leisurely in front of him. “I thought that was obvious.” He pauses, his gaze briefly meeting yours before fleeting down again, but it was just enough for you to catch the shiny layer of tears coating his lashes. You swallow, it felt almost as if you were about to throw up, the guilt slowly eating away at you.
All you could do was stare at him with a stunned expression, not knowing what you could possibly say to mend the situation. Kai draws in a sharp breath before he wipes his face with the back of his hand. “It’s alright”, he mumbles, “it’s not your fault.” — Your heart might as well just have been ripped out and stepped on at this point. Why was he being so kind to you, when you so obviously didn’t deserve it.
“We’re friends still…aren’t we?” He wonders, looking up from the floor with bloodshot eyes. “T-This doesn’t change anything, right?” — You wanted to tell him that this changed everything, that things might never be the same again. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t hurt him like that. So you shake your head, wrapping your arms around him as you hug him tight. “Of course not, Kai.”
You wondered if things had turned out differently between the two of you, had you never gotten involved with Yeonjun.
⸝⸝
It’s early, earlier than you’d like to admit as you leave your apartment that Sunday morning. The sun has yet to rise and the city is still asleep, but you haven't been able to shut your eyes and relax for the past three days. No, you had waited, dreaded, for this day to come. — The bus is almost empty, save for another young woman, but she looks far more comfortable than you as she rests her head against the window.
The air is cold as you step off, and you hug your coat tighter around your body. You walk for about ten minutes before a large building comes into view. Pulling the small note from your pocket, you glance between the address scribbled down and the number on the building in front of you, they perfectly align. — The note, the one Soobin had so hastily shoved in your hand three days ago, the note you had reread at least a hundred times throughout the weekend. An address, a day, but not a time. — Perhaps you were a bit early, but as you trudged up the stairs, you no longer cared. You had waited for three whole days, you’d had enough.
You take the stairs instead of the elevator. To get some exercise in, you tell yourself. But there was no mistaking the fact that you wanted to prolong the moment for as long as possible, despite your urgency to get here. — Finally, you reach the fifth floor, out of breath, you lean against the wall as you take a moment to gather yourself.
The first time you read the note you had considered not showing up at all. It was a cowardly move to send his friend in his place. But at the same time, your mind longed for answers, answers that you would hopefully get today. — You bring the paper to your face, rereading it one final time. The address, the day, and the small sentence, at the very bottom.
“Let’s talk, please.”
Fine, if he wanted to talk, then you would talk. Your fingers curl into a fist, lightly tapping the dark wood. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve been mindful of the still early hour. But right now your mind was set on one thing alone. — Your heart beats obnoxiously loud in your chest, the wait seemingly eternal.
Then the door creaks open. And as soon as your eyes fall on him, you can tell that he’s had trouble sleeping too. The bags under his eyes were a most unusual look, his hair too, laid messily sprawled on top of his head. He’s still dressed, almost as if he hadn’t gone to bed at all. — “Hi”, his voice is low, raspy, like he hadn’t spoken in days. You give him a small nod of acknowledgement and he steps aside as he lets you in.
Yeonjun’s apartment is clean, minimalistically furnished. It wasn’t like you had ever tried to imagine what his home would look like, but this somehow felt just like him. Your gaze trails across the few paintings on the walls, you can tell that he hadn’t picked them himself, most likely they came with the flat. The white couch, situated by the large windows, catches your eye.
Upon walking over and taking a seat, you find that Yeonjun does the same, maintaining a respectable distance as he glances down towards his hands. For a moment, everything is quiet. Part of you wished to stay like this forever. But that was of course impossible. — He clears his throat, shifting awkwardly on the sofa. “Do you want something to drink?” You bite your lip before nodding, “water’s fine.”
He gets up, walking over to the joint kitchen as he turns on the faucet. You can hear him grabbing glasses, filling them to the brim before returning to place one in front of you on the marbled coffee table. Quietly thanking him, you take the glass, bringing it to your lips as you take a sip. You wait for him to speak first, he was after all, the one who had reached out.
Yeonjun looked very different like this. In the comforts of his own home he resembled little of the person you had grown accustomed to in school. You wondered if he often brought people over, judging by how awkward he was acting, you supposed not. — He draws in a sharp breath, his gaze remaining downcast as he speaks.
“You got my note..” He mumbles as you set your glass down. “I did”, you state, leaning back against the soft cushion as you turn your head in his direction. “Why didn’t you give it to me yourself?” You frown, feeling rather hurt by his choice of using his friend, his friend who definitely didn’t seem to like you. Yeonjun is silent, he’s silent for a good while, fingers intertwined with one another as he bites the inside of his cheek.
“I was scared.” He quietly admits and your eyes widen at the confession. “Y-You were?” You can’t shield the surprise in your voice, Choi Yeonjun, scared? He scoffs, and for a moment, his usual self emerges as his face turns into a small scowl, but the way his eyes flicker as he speaks gives him away. “Of course I fucking was, I still am.”
“Why?”
He doesn’t answer straight away, as if considering his next words with great care. Running a hand through his disheveled hair, he lets out a small almost inaudible exhale. “Because I’m scared that I’ve fucked things up so bad this time… That there’s no going back.” — You uncomfortably shift on the couch as you distract yourself by taking another sip of your water. Yeonjun’s body is taut as his jaw clenches, refusing to even glance in your direction he keeps his gaze steadily fixed on the window in front of him as the darkness outside slowly shifts into a deep blue.
“I want…” He slowly begins, his sentence falling short as he takes another couple of breaths. “I want to apologize.” You blink, your eyes shifting from the water in your glass and over to him, you don’t think you had ever heard him speak with such sincerity. — And for the first time since your arrival, he looks at you. He swallows, adam's apple bobbing as he does.
“I’m sorry.”
When you don’t say anything he hastily continues. “I know that it doesn’t fix shit, but I…I still need to say it. And if I could I would go back and undo all the pain I caused you, I really would. I don’t expect you to forgive me, quite frankly I don’t even expect you to ever talk to me again, I suppose that’s fair. But if I don’t tell you how sorry I am now, I’m afraid that I never will.” He takes a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it go again, his shoulders slumping, almost like a deflating balloon.
“So, I’m sorry…for everything.”
He holds his tongue after that, gaze dropping down to his fingers once more. You don’t know how to feel, much less what to say. It was all so surreal. Hearing those words come out of his mouth felt almost like a fever dream and you wondered if you had perhaps managed to fall asleep after all and that this was just a fragment of your imagination, the universe pulling a sick prank on you.
But then you turn to look at him. He’s nothing like the Yeonjun who had hurt you for so many weeks. Right now he looks small as he sits on the couch, biting the inside of his lip as he nervously rolls his thumbs together. In the end you realize that no matter how you feel, there’s only one thing you can say to him.
“I forgive you.”
He freezes, teeth letting go of his lip as he slowly lifts his head to peer over at you. An almost puzzled look paints his otherwise tired face, “you do?” He sounds almost disbelieving as he studies you with a wary expression. — You slowly nod, watching as his eyes widen with recognition, he swallows. Then everything becomes silent once more. This time it’s a different kind of silence, it’s not comfortable but the air somehow feels lighter, if only a little.
You find yourself staring out the large windows. The sky had turned a deep orange now, shades of pink seeping through the cracks formed by the clouds. The darkness slowly makes way for the light as a new day rises before you. — You want to say something, now feels like a good moment to get things off your chest. But you can’t seem to find the words, your throat feels thick and it becomes hard to swallow.
“Please like me instead.”
At first you thought that you had imagined it. The faint whisper of his lips. But when he shuffles next to you on the couch, turning to face you fully, there’s no doubt about it. You tear your gaze from the warm sky as you glance over at him. In the morning light, Yeonjun looked like he was glowing. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, his dry lips, or even his unkempt hair; he looked truly beautiful.
“What?”
Your voice is soft, a low murmur, unsure and hesitant. He scoots closer, your knees touching as he places his hands on the cushion either side of him. “Like me instead. Instead of him.” Instead of Kai. He searches your gaze desperately as he bites his lip, leaning closer. — You don’t say anything, if you do, his statement would become real. You’re scared, you think.
But he doesn’t give up. “I know that you hate me, but please, I can’t stand it when-”
“I don’t hate you, Yeonjun.”
His mouth shuts, and he blinks at you, confused, brows knitting together. “What?” — “But you said..” You shake your head, turning away as you feel tears prick in the corner of your eyes. You hated how easily he made you cry, even when he didn’t intend to. “I lied.” You confess, shame and guilt overflowing your senses. “Why?”
“Because I was scared.”
As the words left your lips, you think that the two of you might not be so different after all. Maybe, just maybe. — Yeonjun doesn’t say anything, his attention dropping to your knees, barely grazing one another. His hand on the sofa twitches, as if he held himself back from reaching out, from touching you.
“I was scared of liking you.” Your quiet whisper felt like a weight being lifted off your shoulders. A small murmur was all it had taken, so why had it seemed so hard? — His gaze shifts back to your face, his eyes wide as his lips part in surprise. “You were right all along”, you give him a half hearted smile, watching as his frown deepened. “I’ve always liked you”, you swallow, “even when I didn't want to.”
A pang of guilt takes over his expression for a moment as he internally cringes at your words, more so his own actions. “I thought it would go away if I told myself that I hated you.” You shake your head, glossy eyes dropping to your hands, the first tears threatening to escape at any moment. “It never did.” Your vision slowly becomes blurred as you blink away the salty droplets that fell down your cheeks.
You can barely see it, but you can feel it, the warm caress of his hand on your cheek. It feels nice, comforting, you don’t push him off, you don’t want to. He wipes your tears, the very same that he had caused. The faint whisper of yet another apology lingering on his lips. — Then he hesitates, you never saw Yeonjun hesitating, he always took what he wanted, did as he pleased. But you can tell that he’s uncertain of his next move. His eyes flickering between your teary eyes and parted lips.
In the end he decides to be brave. Slowly initiating what had been on both of your minds for weeks now. But when his lips meet yours, it feels different, this kiss is nothing like your previous ones. It holds no guilt, no shame, no secrets, it doesn’t feel forced nor desperate. It feels like an apology, remorseful of the past, and like a promise, a vow to the future. You can tell that he expects you to pull back, to tell him off, just like you had days prior.
Instead you cling to him, part of you thinks that this might be just what you need, another part says it’s stupid and reckless. But in the end, you want to be brave too. Even if that meant being stupid and reckless. — The stupid and reckless part of you lets him push you back against the soft cushion, lets him kiss you deeper, lets his hands trail across your body.
“I’m sorry.” He chants it like a prayer, littering your body in the light caress of his lips. You know he means it, every kiss, every touch, every apology. — His hair feels soft between your fingers, you twist the strands lightly, feeling him sigh against your skin. Yeonjun was usually one to talk in moments like these, but today there are no sarcastic remarks on his tongue. He’s quiet, attentively listening to the hitch of your breath, the small moan passing your lips, he doesn’t want to miss a single thing.
He tugs your tights off, his hands immediately soothing the goosebumps erupting on your naked skin. You think he looks pretty like this, basked in the first rays of sunshine, half lidded eyes rapidly moving as he trails them across every inch of your body. — His lips return to yours, fingers sliding between your legs just like they had so many times before, but this time it’s different, everything is.
He touches you slowly, he pays attention, he wants to know exactly how he makes you feel. Treating you as if you were made out of glass, worshiping you as if you were made out of gold. You become hyper aware of the way his body moves against yours, the soft pattern of his fingers sending sparks through your stomach.
You had been intimate with Yeonjun more times than you could remember. Yet as he lines himself up alongside you, it suddenly feels like the first. It feels new, nervous, perhaps even a little scary. But that was okay, you knew that he was scared too. — He goes slow, savoring the moment as his face rests in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry.” He can’t stop saying it, it’s never enough, it never makes up for the damage he’s created, he knows it. But you forgive him, you would continue to forgive him for eternity if he apologized for as long.
He groans against you, his voice is near trembling. Your hands are on his back, feeling the smooth surface of his skin, then they’re tangled in his hair, pulling him to look at you. For the first time it feels as if you’re seeing him clearly. Behind the lying, the cheating, the bullying, it was just him. Just Yeonjun.
As soon as the first tear rolls down his cheek, you kiss him. Tasting the saltiness on your lips, he sobs into your mouth. His chest heaves against yours, his once slow and deliberate thrusts becoming jagged and uneven as he fights to stay composed. You want to say something, but you don’t know what. Instead you pull him closer, so close that you can’t feel anything but his body against yours.
You stay like that, melted against one another. Hours pass, neither of you seem to mind. His breath is warm against your chest, your fingers are soft in his hair. The silence is light, comforting, reassuring. Your mind is filled with him, he’s all you can think about, all you want to think about. You know he feels the same, it’s comforting to know. It’s also scary, you’re not sure if you’re ready. But even then, you’ll at least be scared together, just the two of you.
It’s nice to not be alone.
⸝⸝
Monday morning also feels different. Maybe because you’re walking down the hallway side by side, you and Yeonjun. People stare, he tells you to ignore them, you try, and it works. You glance over at him, he looks happy, his step is light, his arm securely wrapped around your waist. You find yourself smiling, biting the inside of your cheek as you gaze ahead.
It’s not until you reach the all too familiar door, leading into your classroom, that you halt. Confused, Yeonjun stops a pace in front of you. “Is something wrong?” He asks as he studies your nervous posture, your eyes flickering between the now almost empty hallway and the door in front of you. The corridors were one thing, but the classroom held so many memories. Memories that wouldn’t just vanish over a day.
He notices your hesitation, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shakes his head. He reaches out, his warm hand enveloping yours as he grips it firmly. You glance between your interlocked fingers, and the small grin splayed across his face. — “I’ve got you, nerd.”
The small reassurance makes you smile, and you nod, letting him tug you closer as Yeonjun pushes the classroom door open.
𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ And you don’t know why you took a step forward, why you let your hands brush against his, why you didn’t stop when you saw the bewilderment on his face. You don’t know why you leaned in closer, when you should be pulling back. — And you don’t know why you couldn’t look away, why you couldn’t tear your gaze from the flames dancing across his eyes.
You don’t know why you kissed him. ⸝⸝
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ wc, 25.5k ་༘࿐
𝓹airing bully!beomgyu x fed-up!reader (f)
𝔀arning friends to enemies to lovers, bullying, implied violence, violence, beomgyu's a dick, reader's also mean at times, college au, kissing, fingering, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex + pullout, angsty confessions, hmm um um what else, I have no clue..
#serene adds ✎... HAPPY BEOMGYU DAY !! (because it's still the 13th here) ⎯ and oh my god have you guys been waiting for this fic... how long has it been, 6/7 months? maybe even more... I have no words. I feel like this fic is a little all over the place, you might notice the inner monologue changing and so on, but that's because I've been writing it over 6 months roughly, my view on the story has changed with each month... I hope it'll still be worth your while >.< happy gyu day, my love <33 - rain says I need to mention her
This story is part of a trilogy, find the masterpost here to make sure you're reading in correct order!
People change for the stupidest of reasons. At least Beomgyu thinks so. He’s been told that his view of the world is narrow, that change is something good, something that everyone goes through. That change is important. What a load of bullshit. Look what change had done to his best friend. — Ever since Yeonjun had gotten together with that stupid nerd he’d changed. Changed for the worse. And it seemed as if Beomgyu was the only one who could see it.
He glares at his classmates, but his once sharp gaze seems to have lost its touch. They whisper, talk, murmur, gossip, they speculate about him. Because everyone knew that something had happened between The Choi’s, that something was no longer the same. — But why him? Beomgyu wasn’t the one who’d changed, they changed, not him. Yeonjun was the one who…He was the one who became infatuated with that good for nothing nerd, and Soobin he…he just accepted it?
Beomgyu almost snorts at the thought. Fine. If they wanted to give everything up just like that, they could, why should he care? But the lingering glances he receives as he pushes through the crowded hallways are near impossible to shake off. So what if he was walking alone? He didn’t need his friends, they weren’t his friends anymore, they were just side pieces in a much bigger pictur–
“Hey! Watch where you’re going freak!” He seethes as a small boy crashes into his chest, a freshman probably. Beomgyu’s eyes narrow as he seizes the kid. The younger male swallows as he scrambles to gather his belongings, clearing his throat awkwardly as he pushes his glasses further up on his nose. — “I-I’m so sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going and I..”
What a pathetic being. Beomgyu grimaces at his petty apology, “stay out of my way next time, alright? You weak piece of–”
“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”
The voice is familiar as it pierces through the crowded hallway and suddenly the previous buzz of students surrounding him diminishes as Beomgyu’s gaze flickers past the small boy in front of him. — You.
His teeth grind together at the sight of your cocky figure, that smug grin you always wore, as if you were better than everyone else, as if you were better than him. What a joke. Ever since him and his friends broke apart, you seemed to have been actively plotting against him, singling him out now that he was alone. — Beomgyu would die before admitting that your schemes ever proved successful. Because if there was one thing he hated, it was people who meddled in his business. And you seemed to know nothing else.
The young freshman scurries off before Beomgyu has the chance to grab him and he bites back a frustrated groan. Instead his attention shifts to your approaching frame. With the small squeak of your sneakers against the floor, you stop inches from him, your eyes near level with his. — Blood rushes within his body like never before, anger soaring through him at the mere sight of your pestering face.
“Pick on someone my own size? And that would be what, you?” He scoffs, eyeing you with disdain. The grin on your lips only widened further and he refused another grimace. Then it clicks, and Beomgyu has to hold himself back as he feels his jaw twitch. — “You.” The acknowledgement is a short huff of air, it hits your face and you squint as your eyes pierces his. “You’re the one who’s been running their mouth about me all week.”
Suppose you had been mentioning his name a little here and there. A few comments, nothing crazy, nothing that wasn’t true. It wasn’t exactly unwarranted either. Choi Beomgyu was a nuisance. And without his friends to protect him, you were finally able to sharpen the knife that had been so diligently resting behind your back for three years. — You had longed for an opportunity to get back at him for all the shit he caused you through freshman and junior year; and finally, the universe presented you with one.
You glance over at him, it would merely take a small raise of your heel for your eyes to become leveled perfectly with his. Without that tall friend of his, looming behind his back, or Yeonjun’s authoritative status, Choi Beomgyu was really nothing. — That didn’t change the fact that you absolutely loathed him. And you would be sure to have him know.
“Why, has something interesting caught your ears?” You drawl, feeling the grin on your lips threatening to bloom into a smirk. Beomgyu’s face morphs into a scowl, undoubtedly familiar with the rumors of him you’d conducted during the past weeks. — “You must think you’re so smart, sitting on your ass all day and spewing nonsense”, he grits as he takes a charging step forward, chest colliding with yours and you almost stumble backward.
It takes some effort but you manage to remain fairly unfazed as you eye him with indifference. It only serves to make him angrier. Beomgyu was like an open book, a book in which you only had to read the paragraph on the very back to understand exactly how it would end. He was predictable, and without his friends, he was an easy target for someone who’d been studying him for so long.
“I do”, you chirp, hands clasping behind your back as you sway on the spot. Beomgyu scoffs, giving a small roll of his eyes before his firing gaze centers on you again. “Just stay out of my way.” — His attention drops to the uniform you wore, the one school handed out at the beginning of each year, much different from the designer one he had tailored each semester. It was subtle, but different, and Beomgyu’s grin widened as his eyes raked across your worn out shoes and old bag. “Think you’ve got other things to worry ‘bout.”
Without another word, he continues down the hallway, though not before giving your shoulder a harsh shove. — Your lip twitches into an uncomfortable grimace and with a small huff you readjust your backpack. Fucking asshole. Your tongue prods against your teeth, tsking slightly as you watch him disappear.
⸝⸝
“Oh come on, do you really think it’s that bad of an idea?” You whine as your cheek rests against your forearm, eyes trained on the words being written out on the paper before you. — “I do”, Taehyun states without lifting his pencil from the sheet, brows slightly furrowed as he focuses on his work.
With a small huff you peer up at him, the glasses on the bridge of his nose are crooked and you resist the urge to snatch them from his face. “And what does Mr. Class President presume I should do then?” You sarcastically wonder; though the question makes him raise a disbelieving brow as he glances toward you. “I suggest you stay out of trouble.” — Just as you open your mouth in objection, does he cut you off; “and not spread rumors about him.”
Your expression contorts into one of disagreement but you remain silent. In a way, you suppose you should feel thankful for him. Taehyun was your only friend, if friends were even what one could call you. — The mutual acquaintanceship consisted of you sharing the latest events of your quite dull life, recapping the drama you’d picked up on your way to the school cafeteria, and most importantly; Choi Beomgyu.
Though he was originally opposed to the friendship, Taehyun had begrudgingly come to accept your persistent presence as you lingered by his desk between classes. And by your senior year, he knew everything that was to know about Beomgyu and why you so loathed him. — “Shouldn’t you let go of him? We’re about to graduate next year”, he states, his voice monotone as always but you could clearly decipher a hint of pleading as he urged for you to stop fawning over the guy.
“Let go?” You scoff, sitting up a bit straighter as you eye him with a frown, “I do not need to ‘let go’, I need revenge, besides, Christmas break is coming up, I need to act fast.” — Seemingly unimpressed by your enthusiasm, Taehyun merely shakes his head as his focus returns to the piece of paper in front of him, scribbling down a few lines before he sighs; “and how exactly do you plan on doing that?”
The way your face lit up was unmistakable and you could practically see him regret his words as you shuffled closer. “Well, I happen to have a plan–” But before you can finish, the classroom door swings open and your professor enters. With a small scowl, you lean back in your chair as Taehyun immediately disregards you, turning his full attention to the lecture about to take place. Jeez, what a try-hard.
History was far from your favorite, but the mention of a group project sparked your interest. Your professor was old, a tall and lanky man, and as he announced the presentation you were to hold regarding a historic event, the class groaned. — Immediately turning to Taehyun with hopeful eyes, you’re met with a small glare before he sighs and nods, announcing that the two of you could partner up. With delight you open your mouth to thank him when your history teacher’s raspy voice suddenly interrupts you.
“Though seeing as your parallel class is taking the very same course, I thought it’d be a good idea to merge the two of you. – It’ll save me some time when grading as well”, he huffs as a small grin tugs at his wrinkled lips. — It doesn’t take long for the room to be drowned in a chaotic murmur. Your brows pull together in a confused frown and you twist in your seat, “what’s that supposed to mean?” — Taehyun merely shrugs as his eyes flicker between you and your professor by the board, and for once he seemed equally lost.
A quiet cough makes your gaze snap back to your old teacher as he rummages through his bag for a small piece of paper. “Now I know you aren’t too acquainted with the other class, so I’ve taken the liberty of pre-arranging partners for you.” His statement is met with another wave of complaints and displeased groans as students leaned back in their chairs and shook their heads.
“Wait, does this mean we won’t get to work together?” You wonder to which Taehyun gives a small nod, “most likely.” — You felt your heart drop at least ten floors as you watched your old teacher fasten the small piece of paper to the board. The sound of chairs scraping against the hard floor fills the classroom as everyone scurries toward the front, eager to see who they’d been partnered up with.
Without thinking you, too, rise from your desk as you pull Taehyun by his arm, yanking him toward the board. It takes a few shoves to get through the crowd that had formed, but soon enough, you’re standing in front of the list. — Your eyes fervently scan the names, going over the rows at least twice before you find yours. It was as if all air had been sucked from your lungs, your throat uncomfortably dry as you eye the jagged scribbles. Next to your own name was ‘Choi Beomgyu’.
Behind you, Taehyun lets out a short huff, his lips pulling into a menacing smirk as he eyes your expression. — “Was this also part of your ‘plan’?”
⸝⸝
“I’m doomed!” You exclaim, hands feverishly tugging at your hair as you cling onto Taehyun’s shoulder. Met with a shrug from your friend who trudges forward, you pout, jutting your chin out as you whine in his ear. “What do I do?” — Taehyun sighs, pushing his glasses further up on his nose as his eyes scan the nearly empty hallway. “This is exactly why you shouldn’t have gotten on his bad side”, he scolds and you huff.
“Come on now”, you mutter as you release your grip on him, “a rumor here and there has never hurt anyone.” — “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be taking my side?” You finish with a small frown, the crease on your forehead only deepening when he doesn’t say anything. “You told everyone that he threw up in one of the school bathrooms”, he then states and you snort, a small grin seeping onto your face. “So? He might’ve.”
Taehyun shakes his head, “my point is, you’re already off to a bad start.” — His statement makes you slow down, the shift in your pace causing him to nearly stop as Taehyun turns to you with a confused look. “You’re talking as if I’m the one who should watch myself. – Tae, he’s an asshole, if anything, he should feel ashamed.”
Your friend bites his lip as his gaze flits between the floor to the books in his hands, and you wondered if you had said something wrong. Choi Beomgyu had earned himself quite the infamous reputation at your college along with the other Choi’s, everyone knew that they were bad news, so why did no one speak against it? — Why did Taehyun cower at the name?
You couldn’t possibly understand their unreasonable fear.
But you don’t have to ponder for long, because mere moments later, an all too familiar voice calls out. — “Hey, class president!” Beomgyu’s nasty drawl echoes off the desolate walls as he nears you. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his expensive uniform, and he walks with an allude of confidence.
Upon hearing his name called, Taehyun freezes beside you as he hesitantly turns to face the source of the voice. Stopping mere inches from your friend, Beomgyu leans forward with a smug smirk and Taehyun hastily blinks under his glasses. You watch their small exchange with a puzzled expression. — “You got my essay?” Beomgyu asks as he quirks a brow in the shorter male's direction. His essay?
Taehyun nods as he reaches for the bag swung over his shoulder, undoing the zipper as he rummages through its contents. Beomgyu watches him with a look of nonchalance, seemingly unaware of your presence as he focuses on your friend before him. — “Here”, Taehyun murmurs as he hands him at least four pages worth of paper, neatly stapled together.
Beomgyu scans through it leisurely before giving Taehyun’s shoulder a harsh pat, making the shorter wince. “What’s the meaning of this?” You spit, unable to help yourself as you witnessed the person you so loathed go after your only friend like that. Finally, he seems to acknowledge you as Beomgyu’s eyes snap in your direction, his hand falling from Taehyun’s shoulder as his face contorts into a small scowl.
Despite the lack of his friends, he still made do with the reputation he had left. Your rumors seemed to have made an insignificant dent in the power he held. But…Taehyun? Of all people, he wouldn’t possibly… Your gaze flits down to the essay in Beomgyu’s hand and over to your friend who avoided your gaze as he urged for you to come with him without causing a bigger scene.
“Why don’t you stay out of my business.” Beomgyu sneers as he eyes you with distaste. “Business? You call this business?” You frown as you shrug Taehyun’s hands from your arm, stepping between your friend and the menace before him. — Your nose could practically graze his as you let out a short breath of air, meeting his furious gaze with one of your own.
“Bullying people into doing your work? How do you expect to make it outside of college?” The comment makes his already angered expression flare up and you catch his hands curling into fists by his sides. — “Worry ‘bout yourself won’t you?” he scoffs, ready to push past you.. until your next words catch him off guard.
“Well that’s going to be difficult, seeing as we’re partners now.”
He stops, dark eyes snapping back to yours within milliseconds and you feel Taehyun’s hand urgently tug at your arm as he silently pleads for you to back down. — “What?” The word comes out as a mere hiss and you can’t help but feel a triumphant grin pull at the corner of your lips. Ah, so he didn’t know yet.
“Haven’t you heard?” — You let your head fall to the side, an amused expression flashing across your features as you take in his puzzled and angered state, so predictable. “Mr. Brown’s class, the history project, we’re partners, you and me.” The dread that had previously consumed you seemed minimal when you with satisfaction watched Beomgyu’s face practically explode in a multitude of enraged questions; none of which you were planning on answering.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He spits, a look of disbelief presenting itself across his otherwise arrogant face. You shrug, letting Taehyun pull you back as you send him a small wave, “that we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other I suppose.” — Before you can get another word out, your friend has pulled you down the hall in a most hurried manner; scurrying to get away from Beomgyu's piercing gaze as he leans against the wall with a small huff, eyeing you with a mixture of fury and intrigue.
“What the hell was that?” Taehyun grumbles as he drags you along, walking with determined strides. You merely roll your eyes as you let yourself be swayed down the long corridors. — “I should be asking you that”, you counter, still not over the fact that he had written an entire essay for the scumbag.
Not late to catch on, Taehyun bites the inside of his cheek as he fiddles with the glasses on his nose. “Nothing you should worry about”, he mutters, intent on disregarding any further questions. “Nothing I should worry about? What are you, his slave?” — “Don’t say it like that”, he groans and you frown, stopping completely as you break yourself free from his grasp.
With an exasperated sigh, Taehyun turns to you as he runs a hand through his short hair. “Listen, it was a one time thing and..” — “That’s how it always starts”, you huff, rolling your eyes as you shake your head. “Soon he’ll be asking you to write his exams for him as well”, you exclaim, throwing an accusing finger down the hall.
But Taehyun only shakes his head as he waves his hands in front of him in denial. “I’m just helping him out..!” — Your gaze narrows down on your friend, helping him out? Sure Taehyun was many things, friendly? – was not one of them. And to think that he was willingly helping one of the Choi’s with something so trivial…
“Does he have something on you?” You ask, watching as Taehyun’s eyes widened, “is that why you’re slaving away like this?” — “No I..” He begins but quickly seals his lips in a tight grimace, “you don’t understand.” Like hell you didn’t. Why on earth would anyone stoop to such a level. For over two years you had watched as the Choi’s ruled your school, and to say that you were sick of it would be an understatement.
Perhaps your hatred for the small trio was rooted deeper than your peers. Especially your hatred for Choi Beomgyu. — Because you hadn’t always hated him, in fact, at one point, you think you might’ve even liked him.
⸝⸝
“Hey, is this seat taken?”
The voice is warm, kind and friendly. It makes you blink as you tear your gaze from the small pile of nail polish that had accumulated on your desk, your nervous habit of picking at the paint evident. — First day of freshman year, first day of college, that had been the day.
With a small nod, you motion toward the chair next to your own. He takes the seat, grinning from ear to ear as he studies you with curiosity. “Nervous?” He wonders as he tilts his head to the side. “Yeah..” Your quiet whisper is near inaudible but he still seems to pick up on it as his lips stretch further. “Me too”, he says and you can’t help but frown, he didn’t look nervous in the slightest as he comfortably leaned back in his chair, fiddling with the collar of his shirt leisurely.
He was way out of your league. — Yet he reaches a hand out, eyes darting from yours and down to your own intertwined fingers. His palm is soft and warm against yours, his grip unwavering as he shakes your hand. “I’m Beomgyu, Choi Beomgyu”, he smiles, it’s a kind smile, and your heart flutters at the sight.
Choi Beomgyu. What a pretty name.
You spend your first week with him, it was nice to have someone you could call a friend. Someone who made you feel less alone, and Beomgyu did, the two of you were friends, you think.
You ate lunch together…
“Tofu’s the best when grilled”, Beomgyu hums as he shoves a forkful in his mouth, barely swallowing as he loads yet another one. You giggled as your gaze returned to your own plate, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. The cafeteria was both crowded and loud, you had dreaded the days you would spend alone in here.
But as Beomgyu found a nice and secluded table for the two of you, even pulling your chair out with an over exaggerated bow to which you rolled your eyes, you felt hopeful. — Perhaps college wouldn’t be so bad after all.
And you studied after school…
“If 9 is the value of ‘x’ then all we have to do is replace the variables with such”, you say as you scribble across his notebook. Beomgyu’s frown was nearly dented into his forehead, his bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration. “But how does nine become ‘x’? Isn’t nine a number and ‘x’ a letter?”He wonders to which you shake your head.
“Not in this case”, you state before drawing a small ‘x = 9’. Scratching the back of his neck dumbfoundedly, Beomgyu gives a deflated sigh as he slumps against his chair. — “I’m never graduating.”
You even saw one another outside of school…though only once..
“I don’t think I’ve ever been here..” You quietly mumble, eyes flitting across the expensive looking furniture. The restaurant was small but reeked of wealth, the meals here were surely out of your budget but Beomgyu had insisted on you joining him one friday evening. — “What?” He exclaims in bewilderment, “Are you kidding? This is the best place in town!”
True to his word, he paid for your meal, not hearing you out on trying to pay him back in the near future. — “Spending time with you is more than enough”, he says as a matter-of-factly, arm wrapping around your shoulders as you walk down the empty streets.
Not to forget that one time he’d asked for your number…
“I mean it’s just… I think you’re cool and..” He clears his throat, sending you a sheepish smile before continuing. “Just y’know, for staying in touch and things..” — The timidness of his request made your heart flutter as a grin spread across your lips.
“Of course I’ll give you my number, silly!”
The relief immediately flooding his face was palpable as he sighs, eagerly fishing his phone up for you to put the digits in. He made sure to add a pink heart next to your name, promising to be at your every beck and call should you ever need him.
It was friendship, right?
Doing stuff together, noticing things about each other, like the cute little mole on his left cheek, accentuating his already endearing grin. Or his habit of pushing his hair from his face with the help of his pinky, carefully touching up the dark strands, almost absentmindedly.
You wondered if Beomgyu noticed things about you too. Did he see things you didn’t, and did he like them? Did he like you? Perhaps you would’ve gotten answers to all of those questions, had things turned out differently.
It was inevitable, of course, you were all enrolled in the same class after all, they were bound to bump into one another soon enough. But things changed when Beomgyu met Choi Yeonjun, changed for the worse. And it didn’t take long for him to become someone completely different, someone unrecognizable.
Slowly he stopped showing up to your study sessions. More often he’d make excuses to not walk you to class. You began eating lunch alone, and before you knew it, Beomgyu was no longer part of your life. — Except he was, just as someone else. Someone cruel, someone who didn't care about what others felt, someone who only lived to make others suffer.
His new friends were no different, and together they earned themselves an infamous reputation as the school’s bullies. It hurt. Seeing them act so nonchalantly when toying with others, with people who’d done nothing to upset them. — And as you catch him in the hallway one day, a much smaller student hoisted up by the collar of his shirt, Beomgyu’s grip unwavering as he spits insults in the younger’s face.
It was then you grew to loathe Choi Beomgyu.
⸝⸝
Your finger hovers over the block button as you lay in bed that night. Back then, just as you applied to switch classes, as you tried to get as far away from him as possible, you had rid yourself of his number too. Part of you thinks you should’ve deleted the old chats along with blocking him, but something held you back. It felt…oddly comforting, re-reading the old messages between the two of you, a glimmer of what you’d once had, of what he’d once been. How pathetic.
With a small groan you let your phone fall down onto the mattress next to you, shifting to lay on your side as you prepare to let sleep overtake you. He would have to bring it up, because there was no way in hell that you were unblocking and texting first. — “Fucking piece of shit”, you tiredly murmur, letting yourself fall into a very uncomfortable slumber, plagued by the thoughts of your upcoming weeks.
Beomgyu did not text you first. In fact he didn’t text you at all. The whole weekend goes by, and not a single word. Taehyun on the other hand, had been paired up with some stuck up bitch, he’d told you her name, something on M…M, M, M… Ah yes, Mimi. She’d dated one of the Choi’s, until he left her for that shy nerd, served her right. — But even the two of them had already gotten together to get working on their presentation.
You had until Christmas break, but that was a mere three weeks away, and at this rate, you’d be lucky to get done by graduation. — Finally, your gloomy reality sets in, and you heave a loud sigh as you drag yourself down the hallway. History classes had become optional, and without your partner, there was little to be done. You spend the hour roaming the third and second floor, sneakers squeaking against the uneven tiles.
Upon passing that one peculiar little red door, your ears are met with the muffled sounds of what could only be someone getting their guts absolutely plowed. Your nose wrinkles in disgust, ‘room 291’, you could only imagine how many girls had lost their virginity in there. — Shaking your head, your gaze returns forward, but instead of continuing your eternal journey down the long corridors, you freeze.
The object of your affection was standing right there. You thought he’d skipped. Anything to avoid the project at hand you’d supposed. But Beomgyu’s eyes meet yours, and though he’s all the way down the hall, you still catch the disgust lingering in them. His lip twitches, jaw clenching for a split second, and then he’s turned on his heel, marching down the hallway faster than you could blink.
You scramble to catch up, upping your pace to a light jog as you call for him. “Hey asshole!” But he isn’t listening, nor is he stopping. In fact…Was he walking even faster? What a dick. “Hey wait up!” Fuck, was he really going to make you chase after him? How immature. — Thankfully having made the girl’s football team in seventh grade seemed to have paid off, and you managed to reach him soon enough.
Fingers clasping around his forearm, you yank him backward, making him spin around on the spot as he collides with you. The crash makes you wince and you retreat, blinking to regain focus before turning your attention to him. Beomgyu was already watching you, his lips curled into a nasty scowl as his brows furrowed. “What?” He spits, his voice barely above a hiss.
Suddenly, you realize just how close the two of you were standing, chests nearly grazing one another, and the scent of his cologne invades your senses; it was the same one he’d worn for all of college, at least that hadn’t changed. — You clear your throat, quickly scanning the empty hallway before you turn to him, plastering on the sternest of expression you could muster. “The project”, you say, subtly straightening your back. Beomgyu raises a questioning brow as his hands dig into the pockets of his uniform.
You frown, and only when you add the word “history” does he seem to catch on. “Oh yeah, that one”, his features relax, lips pulling into a small grin, “how’s it coming along?” Your mouth opens and closes again. “Excuse me?” You huff, the anger in your words palpable. Still running with his act of obliviousness, Beomgyu shrugs, it was clear that he enjoyed the easy rise he was getting out of you. How you would practically explode over his mere existence. You think he liked making you like that, perhaps it made him feel in control.
Well he wasn’t. Not anymore.
“It’s a group project”, you state, folding your arms across your chest, “there’s no way I’m doing this alone.” — Beomgyu looks almost as if he's considering your words, his lips pursed and head tilted to the side. “So ask your little friend to tag along, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to”, he jeers, flashing you a nasty smirk. Was he talking about Taehyun? Your Taehyun. The same Taehyun that he’d made write his essay.
Your feet move on their own as you take a quick step forward, jabbing an accusing finger to his chest and Beomgyu’s face contorts into a small scowl at the action. “You’re hilarious if you honestly think I’d let you off the hook this easy, that I’d just let you sit back and take credit for my hard work.” You move to shove him backward but his hand is already clasped around your wrist, restraining any movement.
“Get your fucking hands off of me”, he spits, yanking you from his chest with a force that was near bruising. — “Why? Scared that I’ll dirty your expensive attire with my grimy hands?” You retort as you gesture toward his clothes. Beomgyu sneers as he shakes his head, his long hair falling in front of his face before he pushes it back again. “You’ve already tarnished my reputation with that dirty mouth of yours”, he barks, eyes flickering with malice, “got nothin’ better to do than spreading shit about me, do you?”
He shifts on the spot, his gaze wandering down the hall briefly, as if checking for witnesses before his attention returns to you. “I’m not stupid, I know it’s you, and I know you’re behind this whole group project too.” — Woah there, way to get ahead of himself. You scoff, arms falling to your sides as you regard him with disbelief. “You think I set this up on purpose? As if I’d want to be anywhere near you-”
“Well you sure act like it”, he cuts you off, gesturing toward the two of you and the empty hallway you were currently occupying. “Chasing after me like this, trying to get me alone, and the rumors”, his face flashes with something akin to contempt, a spark of his usually crude and mean demeanor simmering through his facade of hate. “I mean come on, it’s obvious.”
Your jaw could practically sweep the floor at this rate and you almost wanted to laugh at the near comical situation. “Whatever it is you’re implying, I can assure you, you’re way off”, you huff, quick to defend yourself. His fingers are still locked around your wrist, an almost tingling sensation spreading through your arm. Upon trying to tug yourself free from his grasp, Beomgyu’s hand only tightens around yours, dark eyes boring into your own as he scoffs: “Cut the crap. You’ve been chasing after me for years.”
The blunt accusation makes you pause, and for a moment every single comprehensive thought completely evaporates from your head. Chasing after him? No. You’d been trying to make his life a living hell, so what if that included knowing his entire schedule and who he hung out with? It was all part of a much bigger picture, a picture his tiny brain failed to comprehend. — But then again, Beomgyu had always had an ego made out of steel. It wouldn’t be the first time he would twist and turn a situation entirely in his favor.
“What’s it that loser friend of yours said? To let me go?” He chuckles, warm breath hitting your already flaring face. How did he know about that? Just how much had Taehyun told him when doing his essay? — Your usually sharp mind can’t seem to conjure a single witty remark, and you’re left biting the inside of your cheek as you send him a bitter glare.
His hand lets go of your wrist, and Beomgyu takes a step back. “Perhaps you should listen to Mr. Class Pres, it might do you good.” With a final cruel smirk, he shoves past you, shoulder slamming against yours as he ventures down the hallway with his hands leisurely stuffed into his pockets.
You want to scream, throw something at him, possibly advocate for murder, but you do nothing, nothing but watch his retreating figure as he disappears down the corridor. Fucking asshole.
⸝⸝
That night left you in a flammable state. Anger gnawed at your very being as you paced the small space of your dormitory. Who was he to speak to you like that? And how would you ever make this project work? Talking to him was useless, a complete and utter waste of time. — Then it hits you. Like a small lightbulb being turned on over your head. Talking to him was pointless, you knew that. But what if you just didn’t speak?
The cafeteria is as packed as it could get that following Tuesday, and you have to paddle through the large ocean of students, all eager to find an empty seat. You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less for today’s plain lunch menu, and instead of searching a clear table, your eyes scan for the most crowded one.
It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. Surrounded by a heap of what you could only assume to be acquaintances, Beomgyu sits perched on a table in the center of the room. Conversation flows around him but his gaze is glued to his phone in his hand, mindlessly swiping across the screen in a bored manner. You wondered if he even knew the names of those surrounding him. You guessed not. Beomgyu had a.. unique way of making friends, if friends were even what they were. They looked more like tokens, perhaps he used them to appear less alone.
His attention suddenly shifts from the device in his hands and you follow its direction, eventually landing on a table not far from his. — Occupied sparsely by a mere three students, three students whom you easily recognized. Choi Yeonjun leans forward, his arm wrapped around a girl you recognized as his girlfriend. He looks to be in deep conversation with the third of their small party, Choi Soobin.
They used to be friends, Beomgyu and them. You remember it clearly. The harsh words, the glares, the distaste on their faces whenever they passed you by in the hallway. But something had obviously happened, a small rift in an otherwise unbreakable circle. And you’re not late to pick up on the way Beomgyu continues to glance their way, even when surrounded by at least a dozen others. You recognize the look in his eyes, the longing. It was the same way you’d been looking at him for the past two years.
Perhaps he had a weakness after all.
Your fist slams against the firm surface of his table, making everyone around you snap their heads in your direction. Their eyes boring into you suddenly made you waver, but you shake it off, turning your attention to your target, now only inches from yourself. — Beomgyu glances up from his phone, brows immediately furrowing as his lips part. Surely he had an insult waiting on his tongue, but you cut to the chase by shoving a small piece of paper in his free hand.
His confused gaze flickers down to the note as he begins unwrapping it, only to be stopped by your hand on his as you shake your head. You mouth the words “not here”, and he scoffs, though shoving the paper in his pocket. — His token friends all burst out into “oooo”s as they wiggle their eyebrows suggestively.
Beomgyu pays them little mind as he rolls his eyes, instead he watches your retreating figure as you push past the crowd in which you had emerged from. A subtle smirk playing on his lips as he mindlessly fiddles with the note in his pocket.
⸝⸝
You had no idea if your plan was even going to work. Would he show up? Or had he thrown the paper in the trash at the first opportunity he got? — Running a frustrated hand through your hair, you sigh, casting a quick glance at the time on your phone, 5:27 pm. He still had three minutes.
Gnawing on the inside of your cheek, you start to reconsider the choice of bringing him to your dorm room, was it really such a good idea? Though it was hardly like he’d show up anywhere in public with you. This was your best bet, you think..
The minutes tick by and your anxiety levels only rise, heart hammering in your chest as you pace the small space of your dormitory. By 5:47 you realized that he was a no-show. A weird mixture of disappointed relief floods you, it’s strange, you had expected the disappointment but why did you feel relieved? Did the idea of spending time alone with him scare you? No. That was impossible.
Flopping down onto your bed, you emit a small sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed as you replay today’s scenario in your head. Scared? What a joke, Beomgyu didn’t scare you, he was nothing but an immature, selfish, rude piece of–
Knock knock.
Your body jolts forward, flying off the bed like a deer in headlight as your head snaps in the direction of your door. He came? He actually came. You didn’t know whether to cry or laugh as you gingerly got up. — As you head for the door, you stop by the small mirror by your clothes drawer to check your reflection. Quickly running a hand through your hair, your eyes scan for a lip balm. You catch yourself mid-act, almost cringing at the way you tried to appear presentable. What the fuck were you doing?
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you twist the handle as the door glides open, revealing no other than Choi Beomgyu on the other side. He’s still wearing his school uniform, and his gaze quickly lands on the loose t-shirt and plain sweatpants you’re dressed in, a glimmer of distaste overshadowing his otherwise expressionless face. You ignore the silent insult as you clear your throat, “You’re late.”
Beomgyu scoffs, his eyes darting down the hall either side of him before pushing past you as he steps inside. “You’re gonna nag me about that too?” He drawls, hands digging into his pockets as he saunters about, taking in the small space you resided in. You notice that he hasn’t brought along any study materials, and you internally groan. “Yes, I am. If this is going to work out then we’re going to have to work together”, you state, folding your arms across your chest as if to prove your point.
Your partner merely hums as he fiddles with the papers scattered across your desk. “Cute room you’ve got”, he comments as he points to the entirety of your dorm. Your jaw slacks as you blink dumbfoundedly. Did he just give you a compliment? No, you catch the smugness in his voice, and the small glimpse of a smirk as he turns back to your desk. Asshole.
“I’m serious”, you huff, “this project is important to me, we need to do well on it.” One thing you couldn’t afford to screw up were your grades. Not that they were anything spectacular of the sort, in fact you were flunking French. But as long as you did well in a few of your best subjects… History being one of them.
Shoving the pen he was previously twirling between his fingers back into its container, Beomgyu turns to you with a sneer. “If it’s so important then I reckon you’d do better by yourself, I might just slow you down.” He regards you with an apathetic expression, almost as if he was waiting for you to snap, to lash out on him and to yell. You suppose it must surprise him when you instead only shake your head, dragging yourself over to your bed as you flop down with a heavy thud.
“Let’s just get started”, you mutter, pulling your computer out as you power it on. Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow in your direction but doesn’t say anything as he leans onto your desk, hands returning to their default position in his pockets. — “How about one of us gathers information and the other one writes it down onto a powerpoint?” you suggest. He looks to be considering your words as he scratches his chin thoughtfully.
“Fairs.” He shrugs as he pushes himself off the table and before you know it, the mattress dips next to you as he sits down. Your whole body tenses up, your eyes remaining glued to the computer screen in front of you as you avoid as much as peeking his way. You weren’t scared of him. But a part of you felt so oddly on-edge whenever he was around, you couldn’t quite place the feeling.
His body radiates warmth, a warmth that spreads over to your own, a bead of sweat accumulating on your forehead as you swallow. You weren’t scared of him so why did your heart feel like it was going to beat out of your chest? — The smell of his expensive cologne, usually sickly strong as it tickles your nose, now only feels nostalgic as you breathe in. He’s so close that your hands are on the verge of touching, his pinky inches from yours.
Beomgyu on the other hand seems unfazed as he peers over at your screen. “I’ll do the research part”, he states as he leans back against the headboard, “sounds less demanding.” You silently exhale in relief as he creates a safe radius of distance between the two of you, nodding as you hum in response.
The two of you work like that, side by side in silence for a good while. At first you’re so engrossed in your work, doing anything to distract yourself from the fact that Beomgyu was quite literally less than three inches away, on your bed, in your dorm. But as time goes by, you finally dare to tear your gaze from the screen in front of you, and sneak a small peek at him.
It felt almost surreal. Two years of being strangers in the halls, two years of constant insults, two years of hatred. Yet here he was, so close to you, just like he had been before everything changed, before he changed.
But now, the two of you were doing something so mundane together.
Your gaze lingers on him, even though it probably shouldn’t. But you can’t help the way your eyes trail across his seemingly relaxed expression. From the small, almost unnoticeable, furrow of his brows, the subtle pout of his bottom lip and the natural flush of his cheeks. Your attention strays by his dark eyes as they move along the words on his screen when reads. If you tried really hard, you might’ve been able to forget about everything that had happened, if only for a few minutes.
Maybe. Just maybe.
Suddenly, you want to reach out and touch him. To run your fingers through his long and unkempt hair, feel the skin of his hand in yours. And you almost do. Until you remember. — Things weren’t like that anymore, they hadn’t been for over two years. You almost recoil at the slip of your thoughts; for having allowed yourself to fantasize like that when reality was far from it. The Beomgyu before you wasn’t the Beomgyu you knew back then. No. You didn’t know this Beomgyu, and it’s with a bittersweet taste in your mouth that you accept said fact.
You think half an hour might’ve passed when you notice that something’s off. Thirty minutes of radio silence from his otherwise enthusiastic mouth. And as you peer over your shoulder, you find him leisurely swiping across his screen, eyes glued to something that looked far from the information he was supposed to gather. — “What’re you doing?” The question slips from your lips without you actually thinking it through. Beomgyu’s head turns in your direction and he watches you with an expression that said, ‘what the fuck does it look like I’m doing?’
“I thought we agreed on working on the project”, you say as you point a finger toward your open laptop. Beomgyu merely shrugs, his eyes flitting back to the phone in his hand. “I’ve done my part”, he sighs and your brows knit together in confusion. A small tap of your finger leads you to the first slide of your powerpoint, in which he’d copied and pasted in what could only be pages worth of information.
Seemingly noting your flabbergast expression, Beomgyu huffs, “Why, you can’t expect me to seriously read all of that?” — “So you’re saying we should just cheat our way through it?” The disbelief in your voice is palpable but he doesn’t seem to pick up on it as he gives a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “It’s not cheating. The information is out there to be used, doesn’t say how to use it”, he states. You have to bite your tongue in order to not let your words slip as you stare back at the computer screen with a puzzled face.
He did have somewhat of a point. But you’d rather die than admit that. Besides, his ways would surely land you a ‘barely passed’ at most. And you wouldn’t have that. — Grumbling out a quiet, “whatever”, you turn back to the powerpoint as you begin sorting through the paragraphs pasted in there. You quickly become immersed in your work, and fail to notice how Beomgyu discards his phone on the bed as he glances around your room with curious eyes.
You swallow a groan as you re-read the same paragraph for a third time, seemingly unable to focus with him around. Perhaps he was right, perhaps you should’ve just bit into the lemon and done this project on your own. — “Fuck, you kept this?” Beomgyu’s almost taunting voice snaps you from the text you were so close to giving up on, and you turn to him with a confused frown.
Though your eyes quickly widened as they landed on the bracelet Beomgyu was holding between two fingers. Suddenly your heart is racing and your breaths are coming in short. The already thick air feels even heavier and you emit a shaky exhale. The brown leather, interlaced with streaks of blue, immediately sends your mind to places you hadn’t allowed it to wander for nearly two years..
⸝⸝
“A friendship bracelet?” you question as you eye the small piece Beomgyu had just handed you. The fine leather felt expensive and you wondered just how much he’d spent on this. It was braided together with a thinner blue thread, the cold shade a stark contrast to the warm brown leather, and your thumb slowly traces its outline as you bring it to your face.
Beomgyu coughs into his hand, shaking his head as he rocks back and forth on the sole of his shoes. “When you put it like that it sounds childish”, he mutters, the tip of his ears radiating a warm pink and you feel your lips tug into a grin at the sight. — “It’s more like..” He hesitates, biting the inside of his cheek as his gaze strays by the bracelet in your hands:
“Like a piece of me.”
Your eyes widen when he suddenly takes a step forward, reaching for the accessory as he plucks it from your fingers. “So that, in a way, I’ll always be with you”, he says as he wraps the leather around your wrist. — It’s impossible to refrain from smiling and your cheeks heat up as he carefully fastens the bracelet around your arm. — Then your curious eyes suddenly fall on the leather around his own wrist, a darker and cooler brown intertwined with a warm red.
A weird and tingly sensation spreads throughout your stomach as you swallow. And before Beomgyu can withdraw his hand again, do you stop him, fingers clasping around his wrists as you bring them together. — The blues and the reds, they remind you of the friendship necklaces you wore back in elementary school. Two halves of a heart, a childish but sweet promise to be what makes the other one whole.
Was it childish? Probably. But it was Beomgyu, and you found that you did not care for such matters when he was around. In fact, you think you might even like it. — No, you did like it. You liked everything Beomgyu did, you liked everything about him. And though you were too shy to even admit it to yourself, you probably liked him too.
“It’s okay right?”
His sudden question snaps you from your train of thought and you blink as your gaze returns to his warm eyes. He looks…nervous? You’d never seen him like that. Beomgyu was always so adamantly prideful, and you don’t think you’d ever seen him waver. But you decide that you like this side of him too, the bashful and almost cute one.
“I love it.” And you do, you really do. You love it so much that you keep it even when he stops wearing his. Even when he no longer represented your other half. You keep it for two years, tucked inside the top drawer of your bedside table where it resides, waiting for the day where you might finally be able to look at it without bursting into tears.
⸝⸝
“Where did you get that?” Your tone is harsh and snappy but it barely makes him flinch as Beomgyu leisurely twirls the bracelet between two fingers. — You reach for it, but you’re too slow, and can only helplessly watch as his whole fist envelops the leather. “I expected a lot from you, granted that you’re still running your mouth about me and all”, Beomgyu drawls as he leans back against the pillows. “But you even kept this piece of shit?” — “I mean come on, it’s pathetic.”
His words stung. Pathetic? Did he really think of your time together as that? Did he think of you as that? Of course he did, you idiot, get that through your thick skull. You hate Beomgyu. One half-successful study session in the privacy of your dorm didn’t change that and it never would.
He probably threw his out, it would make the most sense if he did. Perhaps you should’ve too. You switched classes, blocked his number, and avoided him as best as you could in the halls. So why had you kept that? Why did you cling to something so insignificant? Why did it bring you comfort to feel the cool leather against your palm?
“Just give it back”, you groan as you meekly try and pry his closed fist open. Beomgyu looks as if he’s going to put up a fight, say something nasty back, but he doesn’t. Instead he lets you untangle the bracelet from his fingers, watching as you snatch it back before throwing it on your bedside table once more. — An uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you, weighing down like dark clouds on a previously sunny day. You wait for him to say something, but he never does. He only watches you with that nearly permanent half-smirk of his, brows tugged slightly upward as his eyes flicker across your flustered frame.
“I think we’ve done enough for today.” The statement sounds monotone and gray as it falls from your lips. And even now, you expect a reply. Foolishly so, for Beomgyu merely shrugs, swinging his legs over the mattress as he gets up from your bed. — You don’t dare look up as he rounds your bed, your gaze stays by your discarded laptop. The sounds of his footsteps suddenly vanish and you carefully crank your head in the direction of your door.
With one hand on the handle, Beomgyu looks back at you, his eyes glimmering with something you can’t quite decipher. His lips twitch into a full smirk, and for a moment, you think he might spit another insult on you. He doesn’t. — “See you in class, yeah?” Is all he says before twisting the doorknob and vanishing down the hall.
And as the door slams shut behind him, you’re left in an unbearable silence. Carefully you reach for the bracelet, only to find it torn in half.
⸝⸝
Beomgyu shows up to class after that. It takes you by surprise, and apparently everyone else too as heads turn in his direction when he pulls out the chair next to you. And though his work effort is minimal, he’s still there. You hate the satisfied feeling that blooms in your chest at the accomplishment. And you hate the fact that a small part of you has started looking forward to history class. But you would never tell him that, you would never tell anyone that, not even Taehyun…
“Come on, it’s just one tiny little essay!” You complain in a distraught tone, dramatically kicking at a few stones on the road in front of you. The small rocks clash together as they roll down the gravel pathway that takes you around campus. — Taehyun squints against the bright sun that shone despite the cold December air. He shakes his head, exhaling a small cloud of condensation.
“It’s less than fourteen days until Christmas break”, he argues as he shoves his hands deep into the pockets of the large coat he wore. “Well that’s exactly why I need your help!” You whine, throwing your frozen hands in the air. — “With everything going on, you know the history project and all, I’m going to seriously flunk French at this point Tae..” You sigh, turning to him with the biggest eyes you could muster as you stick your bottom lip out into a pathetic pout.
“Please Tae, isn’t that what friends do?”
Taehyun merely spares you a quick side glance before his focus returns ahead. “You can’t pull the ‘friend card’ whenever you’re falling behind”, he huffs. Biting the inside of your cheek, you think of another way to persuade him. “But if we study together? Then I’m bound to learn!” You suddenly exclaim, causing Taehyun to flinch due to your unanticipated outburst.
“Fine..” He begrudgingly agrees, though quickly groaning as you wrap your arms around him in a tight hug. “I knew I could count on you!” You cheer before carefully letting him go again. — It’s when you pull back that you notice the figure by the benches a few paces away. You frown, gaze narrowing down on its hunched posture. It was odd for any student to be outside between classes during the cold and harsh winter months, let alone sit perched on one of the usual summer hangout spots.
“Who’s that?” You question, your footsteps coming to an abrupt halt on the rough gravel. Taehyun groans as he turns to see where you might be looking, a small noise of disapproval passing his lips. “No one important, let’s go back inside”, he says as he pulls you along once more. — But in the bright light of the early afternoon-sun, the black hair atop the lonesome shadow’s head seemed awfully familiar.
“Is that…Beomgyu?” Your inquiry is met by yet another groan from your friend. Taehyun tsk’s as he shoots a sneer in the direction of the lonely figure. “Wouldn’t that be even more reason to go back inside?” — Despite his greatest efforts, you ignore him as you venture off the small path and over the grass. Taehyun calls out for you, conflicted as his gaze flits between you and the entrance not far away.
With a small roll of your eyes, you stop to wave him over. But Taehyun promptly shakes his head. “Fine, then go on inside, I’ll be right with you”, you say as you readjust the bag on your shoulder. He looks puzzled for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line as he regards you with a concerned frown. “What are you going to do?” He asks, albeit somewhat hesitant. You merely smile, and though it didn’t quite reach your eyes, Taehyun chooses not to pry further when you say: “I’m just going to ask about the project.” — He gives a curt nod before disappearing down the graveled path, hands still stuffed deep in his pockets.
Your footsteps crunch against the frosty grass and they fill the crisp winter air. The closer you get the more certain you become. It was Beomgyu. Sitting on the wooden table, his feet rest on the accompanied bench. He’s not wearing a jacket, only the blazer he had gotten personally tailored. If he was freezing, he didn’t let on to it as he remained still, his eyes focused on the ground below him.
The real question was, why was he out here alone? Surely he should be spending the lunch break in the cafeteria with his friends, and not on a cold bench outside in the middle of the winter. — You stop in front of him, so close that your worn out shoes break the circuit of his limited vision. He knows that you’re there, you can tell by the subtle twitch of his jaw, and the way his fingers curl against one another as his hands mold together.
“Hey.”
You greet him. It’s polite, and when you think about it, you can’t recall ever uttering the word ‘hello’ to him, not for the past two years at least. It takes him a moment to finally look up, and when he does you immediately notice how sunken his eyes are, the almost grayish color of his cheeks and the pink tint to his nose. — He looked like shit.
Part of you wants to say something about it, to finally jab back at him for all the crude comments he’d made about you. But you can’t. And suddenly, you don’t know what to say at all. Why had you even approached him in the first place? The two of you hadn’t spoken in private since… Well since the bracelet incident. Thankfully he had yet to bring it up again, but you didn’t know if you could trust him not to. It was already awkward between the two of you.
Had you just made things worse?
Beomgyu looks too tired to bite back himself as he lets his gaze leisurely drift across your frame. “What are you doing out here?” — Fuck, that wasn’t the question you were supposed to ask. Fucking idiot. But you couldn’t deny the curiosity that lingered around you. What was he doing out here?
“That’s none of your business.” He spits, lips curling into a small scowl, but you can tell that it’s taking him a great deal of effort. And for some reason, you care. You hate that you do. Because you should feel anything but concern. You should be celebrating his downfall. This was what you had been waiting for. So why did it feel so bittersweet?
You think it must have something to do with the afternoon spent on your bed. Almost an hour of complete silence, no bickering, no insults thrown. You blame yourself for getting too caught up in the moment. For letting yourself view him in a different light. — You hate Choi Beomgyu. And he hates you. That’s how it was supposed to be.
When you don’t reply, he lifts his head once more. His eyes are dark, lifeless. He frowns, and for a second he looks almost irritated. “Why do you even care?” He grunts, a flicker of disgust tracing his features, as if the mere thought of sympathy from you was enough to have him gagging. It was nice. It felt familiar. It felt like the Beomgyu you knew.
“I don’t.” You simply shrug, letting your bag fall from your shoulder as you heave yourself onto the bench next to him. He doesn’t move, but you can feel his gaze on you as he studies you intently. — You don’t dare look at him, instead you keep your eyes set forward. Despite the cold and chilly temperatures, snow had yet to fall. And the naked trees now only looked dystopian as you glance around the campus grounds.
“Where are your friends?” You suddenly ask, the question coming out light, just like any other. You don’t expect an answer, not from him. In fact you’d prepared yourself for him to get up and leave. But he doesn’t. — Beomgyu is silent for a second, you hear him draw in a slow breath, holding it for a moment before letting go. “What friends?” He then says, and this time he actually sounds tired.
Your stomach twists in an uncomfortable way, a way that was nowhere near satisfying. “What about the ones from the cafeteri..” — “Don’t be daft”, he cuts you off, his voice gaining a sudden sting. “You’re not stupid. Don’t pretend that you are. It’s unattractive.” He jeers, fingers twisting against one another, as if he was trying to crawl out of his own skin.
“Isn’t that why you’re here?” He huffs, shuffling to the side as he creates a cold metaphorical wall of distance between the two of you. “To poke fun at me? To shove it in my face?” He sounds almost distressed, and before you can reply, he turns to you. “You think it hasn’t been already?” — For the first time since you approached, he’s looking entirely at you. And when you return his wide gaze, it feels like you’re looking at a shell of who he used to be.
You tell yourself that it’s the cold air. That it’s the already depressing surroundings of the dying nature around you. But Beomgyu looks just as malnourished as the trees, as pale as the sky and as beat as the frozen grass you walk on. It was easy to take pity on him like that. It was almost like he was begging for it. Begging for someone to sympathize with him. You can’t imagine that anyone ever did.
“That’s not why I’m here”, and your statement is true. You don’t know why you’d come here, but you knew that it wasn’t out of malice. Because even if you did hate Choi Beomgyu, you don’t think you could ever say it to his face. — He didn’t know that of course. Part of you wished he did. Beomgyu scoffs, his gaze returning to the frosty ground as he bites the inside of his cheek.
You’re scared that you might pity him forever. That things might never change. That the two of you might just be stuck in an eternal loop of hatred and unspoken feelings. — You don’t know what you want, but you know that it is not that. Perhaps this history project was the start you had been looking for. Maybe…
“Are you free friday?”
⸝⸝
Your study sessions became regular after that. Beomgyu appeared to have nothing better to do with his time, and to be frank, neither did you. And though you were far from friendly with one another, none of the insults lingered. You studied in silence, him by your desk and you on your bed, as far away from each other as you could get. It was quiet, so quiet that you sometimes forgot that he was even there, save for the occasional sigh or click of his tongue.
At first, he would bring his phone, checking it every other second, like he hoped for something, for someone, to be there. But after four days, he stopped. And your curiosity only grew.
Now a mere week remained until christmas break. You and Beomgyu had been studying together for the past six days, without fail. Your presentation was nearly completed, and part of you thinks this might be amongst your last sessions together, if not your very last. — It felt strange, almost melancholic. Would you miss him? Or would you miss the company? Taehyun was your friend, sure, at least that's what you called him. But as soon as the bell rang, as soon as class ended, it was only you again.
So was it really so wrong to look forward to a bit of company after school? Even if said company was a grumpy and quiet Beomgyu who did his best in ignoring you whilst he was there. Maybe. — Maybe it was the slight urgency of losing the temporary comfort these quiet hours had provided you that led to the act of stupidity you were about to perform next.
The sun had set hours ago, casting your room in a dim glow provided by the small lamps on your bedside table and desk. You and Beomgyu had been working quietly for the past while. Now that the information was gathered and all that remained was for you to edit the last paragraphs, he used his time to decorate the powerpoint, adding relevant pictures and messing with the fonts. It wasn’t hard work, but the fact that he did something, made your stomach flutter in an unfamiliar way.
“Are you busy next week?” You wanted to ask him if he would like to practice the presentation together. But Beomgyu kills your last glimmer of hope with a small huff, “Yeah.” He doesn’t turn to look at you, his eyes steadily fixed on the computer screen in front of him despite the fact that he was now only aimlessly flipping through the slides.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you refrain from asking if he was busy all week. You would most likely only receive a half-hearted ‘yes’ anyway. Instead your gaze flickers down to your keyboard, your nails quietly tapping against the keys as you think of something to say. Every second spent in his presence only seemed to pull even more questions from your already curious mind. There was so much you wanted to ask him about, even though you knew it wasn’t your place.
Just let him go.
You can hear Taehyun’s voice in the back of your head, pleading for you to not pry, to keep your eyes down and mind your business. It wasn’t that easy. He didn’t understand. He didn't know. He didn’t know Beomgyu like you did, like you thought you did.
“Are you sure you don’t have time to come by and practice?” You can’t stop yourself, the question slips out anyway, and you watch as Beomgyu’s shoulders tense before relaxing again. “I told you I’m busy”, he repeats in the same monotone and tired voice he’d been using for the past week. — “Right…” You hold your tongue, fingers brushing over the keys on your keyboard, hovering above the space button. Your lips part, then they close, and then they part again.
“Are you meeting Yeonjun?”
You shouldn’t have asked that, you know it. Yet you did. Perhaps you wanted a reaction from him, perhaps you wanted to hear him raise his voice for the first time in over a week, perhaps you wanted him to get angry, to insult you, because it was the Beomgyu you knew.
His shoulders go rigid this time, and though you can’t see his expression, you can still catch the twitch of his jaw. He’s stopped swiping through the presentation slides, now stuck on the first one as he gazes ahead. For a minute, everything’s quiet, you think he might not say anything at all. But when he speaks up, he doesn’t raise his voice, instead he lowers it, until it’s nothing but a low drawl of his tongue.
“You think this is funny?” The cold words send a shiver down your spine, and even though he isn’t looking at you, you felt as if you were being judged under a microscope. “I… I’m sorry..?” You squeak, your voice nearly inaudible but Beomgyu catches it. — He chuckles, pushing his chair back as he turns to you.
The fiery brown in his eyes is long gone, replaced with an ashy looking color, like he was drained of all life. His lips, usually pulled into either a scowl or a menacing smirk, remain just as unreadable as the rest of his face. — “Do you enjoy this?” He asks, but it hardly sounds like a question.
You gulp, fingers pressing so hard against the keyboard that you have managed to insert a whole paragraph of nonsense onto the powerpoint. Quietly shaking your head, you think of a way to salvage the toes you’d accidentally stepped on. “No I, I’m sorry…” You swallow once more, “I just…I don’t know what happened between you…I..”
Beomgyu’s loud scoff cuts you off, and you watch as he gets up from the chair, kicking it back against the desk. With two long strides he reaches you by the edge of the bed. Though he was barely an inch or two taller than yourself, he somehow managed to appear menacing as he loomed over you. “Has it ever crossed your mind that it might not be any of your fucking business?” He says, his tone remaining indifferent as he glares down at you with those empty and dying eyes.
You bite your tongue, refraining from intervening and saying that practically everyone at school knew it. Though you were sure he already knew that too. — Beomgyu huffs out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. “Every single fucking day”, he mutters, his eyes narrowing as they linger by your slightly sheepish expression. “Every day, people like you, stick their nose where it doesn’t belong.”
The way he spoke, grouping you together with the other students, it shouldn’t have made your chest churn the way it did. “People like me?” You repeat the words, tasting them on your tongue, and finding that you don’t like them. Beomgyu, on the other hand, merely sends you a small look of distaste, the only emotion that had managed to pass his features in a whole week.
“What? You think you’re something else?” He jeers, frowning when you get up from the bed, straightening your back as you come face to face with him. — “I know I am”, you say, forcing your voice to remain steady. You knew that you weren’t the only one who’s thoughts lingered in the past. You knew that he must still think of the two of you from time to time, even if only for a brief moment.
Beomgyu finally seems to catch on, his brows rising on his forehead when he does. He looks like he’s about to burst into laughter, you think that he might. “Oh that’s right”, he muses, “You think you’re special because I was nice to you back then, because I took pity on you.” He pushes a strand of dark hair from his face with the help of his pinky, “Bet it was the first time something like that happened.”
You didn’t want to admit that he was right, that it had been the first time someone had ever gone out of their way for you. That it had been the first time someone had ever gifted you something, apart from your own family, that it was the first time someone willingly sat with you during lunch. But your mind gets caught on that one word he’d used. Pity.
Was that all it was to him? A game of play-pretend, a chance for him to play hero? You shake your head, it couldn’t be, it wasn’t. — For two years, you had blamed Choi Yeonjun. You had blamed him for taking Beomgyu away from you, for turning him into someone you couldn’t recognize, for ruining your only chance at an actual friendship, perhaps even something else.
It was easy to blame Yeonjun, you didn't like him, you never had. But you could never bring yourself to actually blame Beomgyu himself, because that would mean he was a bad person, and you didn’t want him to be. You wanted him to remain the perfect version you had created in your head, the version you thought you liked. It became clear now, that he wasn’t.
“You’re a liar.”
You state, fingers twitching by your sides as you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. Beomgyu’s expression morphs into one of confusion, then he scoffs. “A liar?” He asks, his voice hollow: “Do you hear yourself talk? You sound fucking crazy.” — “If you think for a second that what we have is different from any other piece of shit person in this school, you’re wrong.” He spits, eyes flaring up for the first time in so long, a small fire igniting within them.
He continues to list reasons, reasons to hate you, reasons to hate him, reasons to hate everything. You weren't listening. All you see is his eyes, burning with rage, with life.
It’s unexplainable, the feeling that surged in your chest, that pounds against your ribcage and pulls on your lungs as it sucks the air from them. And you don’t know why you took a step forward, why you let your hands brush against his, why you didn’t stop when you saw the bewilderment on his face. You don’t know why you leaned in closer, when you should be pulling back. — And you don’t know why you couldn’t look away, why you couldn’t tear your gaze from the flames dancing across his eyes.
You don’t know why you kissed him.
But you did.
And now it was too late to ever go back. — Though you're not sure you want to.
His lips feel soft against yours, not that you had ever stopped to think about how it would ever feel. Yet this somehow seemed right. You don’t open your eyes to look at him, you don’t think you could bear that. Still, you’re surprised when he doesn’t immediately jerk backward, when he doesn’t push you away. — Beomgyu hesitates. You think it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him do.
The moment lasts forever, and somehow it seems to have vanished within the blink of an eye. The bed squeaks when you crash against the mattress, you can still feel the flat of his palms on your shoulders as the force he’d used to shove you away from him lingered.
When you peer up at him, you find him already watching you. The flames in his eyes seemed to burn even brighter now. His jaw clenches, fingers curling into fists by his sides as he struggles to keep his composure. — Your lips part, but no words come out. What was there to say? Sorry? But you weren’t. I hate you? But you didn’t.
Beomgyu speaks before you get the chance to, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath. “You’re fucking insane.” It’s all he says, not waiting for a response as he turns back to your desk. He shoves his laptop in his bag with such force that you thought its seams might break.
Then he heads for the door, reaching it in four long strides. He doesn’t turn to look at you, not like he had that day. He rips it open, ignoring the squeaking sound it made when he slammed it shut behind him.
The silence that follows echoes through your small dorm. And you remain on your bed, motionless, staring ahead as your fingers reach up to touch your lips. — Still burning with the fire he’d igninited.
⸝⸝
That night was a quiet one, your dorm room basked in the eerie glow of the moon. Nothing but the soft sounds of your hushed sobs filling the confined space. Your pillow is wet, stained with your tears as you cry into the cotton. It was pathetic, really. In fact, you didn’t even know why you were crying. — But as soon as the door had slammed shut, and you had been left alone with nothing but your lingering thoughts, everything had become too much to bear.
The events of the past few weeks finally catching up to you, breaking the dam of pent of tears you’d been so carefully keeping at bay. It felt as if it would never stop. You didn’t know whether you felt humiliated, rejected or just straight up insulted. Part of you just felt stupid. What the fuck were you even thinking? Kissing him like that. The image itself makes you grimace, and with a heavy sigh you pull yourself into a sitting position.
After fumbling in the dark for a few moments, your fingers manage to grasp your phone. The bright light of its screen blinds you, and you squint as you scroll through your ridiculously short contact list. — The line rings for almost a whole minute, all the while you anxiously bite on your short nails, chopping the last bits of green polish from your nail beds. And when he finally picks up, it’s silent, save for the deep breaths he emits as he waits for you to speak.
“Taehyun?”
Your voice comes out a lot more hoarse and strained than you had anticipated, causing you to immediately clear your throat. Taehyun groans, and you hear him shift slightly as he mutters something incoherent. “Do you know what time it is?” He finally asks in a groggy, sleep-laced tone. A spark of guilt blooms in your chest, and you throw a quick glance toward the time on your phone, showing that it was well past midnight.
“I’m sorry…I just”, you bite your lip, hesitating for a moment. It wasn’t like you didn’t trust Taehyun, it was just different. You and Taehyun were different. Part of you thinks he won’t understand, that he might judge you, no you know he will. Still, he was the only one you could turn to. — “Taehyun, I think I messed up.”
He doesn’t answer right away, but you know he’s still there. You sit in silence for a while, just listening to his breaths, and for a moment you wonder if he’s fallen back asleep. But then he speaks, this time he sounds more awake. — “How bad?” He asks, and somewhere in the background, you think you can make out a light being flicked on.
“Really bad..”
⸝⸝
You had never been to Taehyun’s house before. Two years of so called friendship and you would think that you’d progressed further. But as you heave the last step leading up from the subway, you stop in order to relocate yourself. The neighbourhood looked average, yet inviting. Its quaint little houses, lined up along the dimly lit street, all reflected one another.
Number 14, that was the one you were looking for. Your worn out sneakers hit the asphalt with heavy thuds, and a small cloud forms when you exhale out into the cold December air. With your fingers stuffed deep in the pockets of your duvet jacket, you make a slight turn, coming face to face with house number 14.
It looked just like the rest, a small mailbox by the fence gate, its white paint chipped in places. You push it open, stepping up the small graveled path taking you to the doorsteps. Taehyun told you not to ring the bell, but to quietly knock. He didn’t live alone, you knew that much. — He shared the small flat with one of the juniors, you think his name might be Kai.
You knock once, proceeding to wrap your arms around yourself as you wait anxiously for him to open. It takes him a mere thirty seconds, and when the door swings aside, you're met with the still sleep-laced figure of Kang Taehyun. — He’s dressed in nothing but a pair of checkered sweatpants and a black t-shirt, the glasses he always wore nowhere to be seen. He looked far different like this, it takes you a moment to even recognize him.
Your silence must’ve been unusual, because he soon cocks an eyebrow, stepping aside as he motions for you to get in.
Taehyun’s place looks nothing like you’d imagined it. It was far messier. With clothes hanging off the kitchen chairs, lecture material spread over the round table and piles of books crowding the already small countertop. Still, he doesn't seem to mind the slight chaos as he reaches up to fetch two glasses from the cabinet, not saying anything as he fills them both with water from the tap.
This eternal silence covers you both like a thick blanket, enveloping you in a false sense of ignorance, like the fact that you were currently in his kitchen, at 3am no less, was completely normal. — Taehyun remains quiet as he walks past you and into the joint living room, you trail behind him, eyes lingering on the discarded guitar that rested against the wall.
The large green sofa takes up a good third of the room, and Taehyun sets your glasses down on the wooden coffee table in front of it as you take a seat. — “Do you play?” It’s the first thing that comes to mind, not a ‘Hello, sorry for bothering you so late at night and barging into your home.” But you can’t help yourself, somewhere in the back of your mind, you hear Beomgyu, clearly remembering the day he’d told you about his love for music, no less the guitar.
But Taehyun merely shrugs, and when he speaks, his voice is groggy. “Kai does.” The statement doesn’t leave room for further questions, and you thought it was probably wise to not bother him with more small talk.
Reaching for the glass, your fingers wrap around its cold surface as you bring it to your lips. You sip slowly, prolonging the inevitable confession you were to make. And as the refreshing water slides down your incredibly dry throat, you sneak a glance in his direction. It felt odd, seeing Taehyun outside of school like this.
Your gaze lingers on his bare arms, something his uniform never allowed even as much as a glimpse of. He leans against the soft cushion of the couch, mindlessly fiddling with a small string which you had no idea where he’d gotten it from. — It might’ve been the late hour, or the change of scenery, hell it might’ve even been the fact that you’d probably made the biggest mistake of your life not even eight hours ago. But had Taehyun always looked this… Good wasn’t the right word… At least you didn’t think it was.
You suppose he looked… Ordinary. He looked far more relaxed than he ever did at campus, in class or in the cafeteria. This Taehyun resembles little of your class president, right now he just looks like, well him.
“Why are you here?” His sudden question snaps you from your trance and your eyes immediately snap toward the water in your glass, the clear liquid swirling around slowly. Why were you here? Because you were alone, because you were scared, because you didn’t have anyone else to turn to. — “I… I messed up”, your deflated sigh rings out in the living room.
Taehyun continues to fiddle with the small string, twisting it around his thumb. “The presentation?” He asks, but you can tell that was not what he’d actually meant. Still, you nod. “Well that one too, that’s for sure..” You didn’t even want to think about having to face him next Tuesday, much less going through with that presentation together, in front of everyone.
“It’s about him, isn’t it?”
The question was hardly needed, and you mumble out a quiet ‘yes’ as you set your glass down. Taehyun hums, his eyes trained to his hand. You wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. Biting the inside of your cheek, you inhaled slowly. It was better to get it out right away, wasn’t it? Besides, there was no way you could sugarcoat it, no way for you to lie yourself out of this. You wanted to be honest with Taehyun, because it was easier to be honest with him than with yourself.
“I kissed him.”
There. You said it. So why didn’t the lump in your throat ease? Why did your chest still feel tight and your palms sweaty? Why couldn’t it all just go away, you did what you were supposed to, you confessed. Was that not enough? — Taehyun doesn’t look surprised. In fact he looks almost amused. As if he was betting with himself, ultimately ending up winning as you said what he’d already expected you to.
“I think he hates me even more now. No - I know he does.” You can’t stop the words from flowing, all your pent up emotions rolling off your tongue in one swift motion. “I don’t think he’s ever going to talk to me again. And I’ll probably have to do the presentation alone. But I don’t reckon he’ll tell anybody, I’m sure he’s embarrassed about being associated with me. Fucking entitled asshole.” The last part comes out with slight distaste.
“Don’t you agree?” You turn to Taehyun who’s been listening quietly. Finally, he glances up from the string he’s fiddling with. He sighs, “I think you should’ve stayed away from him just like I told you to.” — His words made your chest tighten even further, but they were not surprising. You knew what his response would be, you had known before you even picked up the phone to call him. Still, you did it. Because even if he told you what you’d already heard so many times before, it was something, and something was better than nothing.
“Why did you do it?” You quietly ask him, your question coming out nearly inaudible. “Hm?” His dark eyes, the ones you used to watch behind the thick lens of his glasses, shift over to you. — “Why did you write his essay?” Your sudden change makes him pause, his fingers stilling around the thin thread he’d been twirling for the past minutes. Taehyun looks at you, but you can tell he’s not actually looking at you.
“What do you mean?” It takes him almost a whole minute to reply. That had never happened before. Holding your tongue, you consider your next words carefully. You’d been wanting to ask him about that day in the hallway for so long now, it had been pestering you for weeks, like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. Because if it was one thing you couldn’t understand, it was why someone like Taehyun, would do something like that, for someone like Beomgyu.
“Does he have something on you? Is he bullying you?”
Taehyun shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he discards the thread between his fingers. “No”, he finally states, his voice firm. He was lying. He had to be, right? — “Then why?” You knew you were pushing far, too far, but you wanted, no, needed answers. But he only averts his gaze, his attention fixed on something far ahead. You try to follow his line of sight, your own eyes landing on the crowded bookshelves.
Books. Your lip twitches at the sight of pages worth of study material. But as you survey the shelves closely, you find that they’re neatly organised, unlike the chaos that spread through the rest of the house. From different subjects, all neatly categorized, yet one book remained alone, separated from the rest. You didn’t recognize its cover.
“Latin.”
Taehyun’s thoughts seem to align perfectly with yours as he, too, eyes the lonesome book. “I didn’t know you took latin..” You murmur, still not tearing your gaze from the shelf. Beside you, Taehyun hums before going silent once more. That silence lingers for another thick and heavy minute. The darkness of his living room closing in on you, the sounds of your quiet breaths remaining the only signs of life.
“Hardly anyone picks latin”, he then adds, nodding toward the book on the very edge of the shelf. You nod, even though you don’t exactly understand where he’s going with this. Taehyun sighs, and he sounds tired, “Picked it ‘cause I felt bad.” — “The professor would hardly have a class to teach this semester if it wasn’t for me.”
You frown, shifting back to him as your lips part in an unspoken question. But Taehyun doesn’t need to look at you to know what goes on inside your head. — He shrugs, “You asked me why.”
The silence that follows his last words did not feel as heavy as the others. It merely felt…confusing. Your gaze drops to your hands, placed neatly on your lap. Exhaling through your nose, you begin picking away at your already chipped nail polish, watching as the red flakes fell to your knees. Latin… He picked it out of pity? Not because he enjoyed it but because he felt bad?
But what did Latin have to do with…
“Did you want to do it?” Taehyun suddenly asks, and it felt weird, because he hardly asked questions about you, and especially not about Beomgyu. — The lump in your throat bounces back twice as big this time, and your fingers still. “Yes.” If there was one thing you were sure of, it was that. You wanted to kiss Choi Beomgyu, and you had.
“I don’t…” You begin but quickly trail off. Taehyun is patient. He waits for you to continue, he waits for two whole minutes, until finally, you say: “I don’t regret it.” — “And I wish I could tell him that.”
Taehyun shifts on the green cushion, turning so that he’s now facing you. His gaze isn’t the narrowed and sharp one you’d grown so accustomed to. This one’s gentle, almost soft. — “So why haven’t you?”
⸝⸝
“What the fuck is your problem?”
The voice is sharp, and you think you might recognize it. It makes you halt, stopping just as you were about to round the corner taking you to the dormitories. With your back now pressed against the cool wall, you freeze, listening to the conversation taking place. You had mindlessly been returning to the place you called home after a long day of classes, when suddenly two arguing voices caught your attention.
“My problem?”, Beomgyu spits, his tone harsh and defensive, “Fucking hell man, have you even seen yourself lately?”
The other voice, which you now recognize as Yeonjun's, cuts back with an equal bite. “Oh come on, just admit that you have something against her. – It’s not like you’ve ever tried to hide it.”
Beomgyu remains quiet, the air feeling dense and heavy with unspoken feelings. “I don’t have anything against her.” He pauses and you wonder what his face might look like right now, furious, deflated? He exhales, “It’s you, okay? You’re the issue here.”
You could almost hear the surprise as it radiated off of Yeonjun, and you manage to get a glimpse of one of his arms as he shifts on the spot. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He sounds confused, agitated almost.
“It means..” Beomgyu begins, though quickly cutting himself short as he inhales. “It means you’ve changed, alright. — And I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you but you..” He trails off, the frustration at not being able to say what he wants, what he feels, is palpable and you shift uncomfortably against the wall as you hold your breath.
Yeonjun scoffs, it sounds almost like laughter. “Oh, so I get a girlfriend and suddenly can’t hang anymore?” — “Yes.” Beomgyu immediately responds. “You and that fucking good for nothing ner-”
Thud.
It sounds almost as if one of them had shoved the other against the wall and your eyes widened as you resist the urge to take just a single step forward, to round the corner and see for yourself. — Yeonjun is the first to speak. “You fucking watch your mouth!” He snarls and you can make out Beomgyu’s low groan as he splutters against what you presumed to be Yeonjun’s chokehold on him.
“Or what?” He counters in a strained voice, the teasing edge evident, the one he used to mask how hurt he was.
The sound of Yeonjun’s fist connecting with what could only be Beomgyu’s face echoes through the otherwise empty hallway and your heart drops to your stomach. But Beomgyu merely chuckles. “She ruined everything”, he grumbles, merely adding fuel to the fire.
“Shut your mouth.”
Beomgyu snickers, and Yeonjun’s frustration bounces off the walls. You’d heard enough, and you certainly weren’t going to risk staying and ending up in the middle of it. So you turn around, and just as quickly as you had come, you retreat again.
⸝⸝
You nervously pace your room, mumbling the words to yourself over and over, trying your hardest to memorize them. It had dawned on you that you would be doing this alone, and now what remained was to learn everything. But no matter how many times you circled your bed, you always found yourself off track, needing to double check your laptop over and over.
You were slowly becoming desperate. Nothing seemed to work in your favor. — You curse yourself for letting your feelings get the better of you. For being naive, for thinking that he actually felt something, anything for you. Had you just restrained yourself, had you just held back… You wouldn’t be in this situation right now.
Anxiously gnawing on your nails, your teeth scrape their beds as you re-read the paragraphs written on the powerpoint for the fifthteenth time. The sentences had started to blur, the words merging with one another slowly. — You shake your head, willing yourself to stay focused, to not let your emotions get the better of you, again.
But then there it is. A loud, almost frantic, knock at your door. — Knock! Knock!
Your head jerks in its direction, the presentation long forgotten about as your eyes narrow on the dark oak. You throw a glance at the time, 8:29 pm, what could anyone possibly want you at this hour? — But the knocking persists.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
It’s loud, flaring like thunder through your dormitory and it makes you jump. Naturally, you do the only thing that comes to mind; you approach, with both curious and wary steps. Your hesitant hand reaches for the handle, the other one twisting the lock as you pull the door open. — The sight that greets you on the other side is nothing you could’ve ever imagined.
Beomgyu looks even worse than he had a week ago. The bags under his eyes were a permanent look now, dark and sunken in. His long hair falls in uneven sections down the sides of his face, a few strands sticking to his forehead, covered in a sheen layer of sweat. Even his expensive uniform was messed up, tie hanging loosely around his neck and his white shirt torn by the seams.
You can only make out half his face, the rest shielded by his unkempt and dark hair. But what stood out was the large and angry bruise covering his cheek. Its blue and purple hues were a stark contrast to his honey-like skin. You knew where he’d gotten that. His breaths come out ragged, shallow, like he’d ran here. Perhaps he had. Your lips part, but before you can get the question out, he’s barging inside, slamming the door shut behind him. — “Beomgyu what..” Your words fall short as he pushes his hair from his face, revealing his dark eyes to you.
They were burning with the same fire they had been that night, the night you kissed him. The flames dance across his bottomless irises. You think that if you got too close, you’d end up burning yourself. Another part of you thinks it’s too late to take cover. That you had already walked inside and sealed the door shut behind you, and now you would burn with him.
He takes a step forward, the fire drawing in closer and you squint against its flames. His chest heaves, it clouds your narrowed vision as he backs you up against the nearest wall. Something had happened, something had made him like this, because this was not the Beomgyu you knew. The Beomgyu you knew would be repulsed to even as much as near you, to even breathe the same circuit of air as you.
He is not the Beomgyu you know. Because the Beomgyu you know would never kiss you.
But this one does, and it’s without hesitating that his hands reach for your face, cupping both cheeks in his blazing hot palms as he brings your face to his. — Your eyes widen, alarm bells going off in your mind, screaming for you to push him back, to demand answers from him. So why don’t you? Why do you let him kiss you, why do you let him toy with you like this?
Beomgyu did not like you. He hated you. That was a fact. Not because he’d said so himself, or because he treated you like he did. But because it was the reality you had been feeding yourself for so long. It put you at ease, knowing that he hated you, because if he did, then he at least felt something for you. You weren’t just another face in the halls, your time together wasn’t just a figment of his or your imagination, it had been real. The two of you were real, and the resentment and hate was a confirmation of just that.
So when his lips press against yours, warm and wet, his tongue slips inside your mouth without waiting to hear your startled yelp.. The reality you had built for yourself suddenly starts to crumble. Everything was wrong, this was not how it was supposed to be. — You had allowed yourself a slip up last week, a moment of weakness. You had kissed him. For a brief, short and awfully painful moment you had let your own desires consume you. And you had paid the price.
This time Beomgyu was acting on his desires, not yours. And that scared you.
His chest is flush against yours, his grip on your face unwavering as he forces your lips to meet in a searing kiss. You don’t understand. You thought you had him all figured out, this wasn’t supposed to happen, why is he… — “Beomgyu, stop!” Your nails dig into his shoulders, tearing him off of you with all your might. He separates from you, if only an inch, the kiss coming to an abrupt stop as you’re left panting.
His lips are coated in saliva, a small string connecting the two of you before it breaks just a second later. You barely recognize him. “What’s going on?” The question is accusing, your voice laced with confusion and anger.
Beomgyu remains silent, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he exhales a final heavy breath. His jaw clenches when he swallows, and his dark eyes flicker down to your lips once more. — “Shut up.” It’s all he says, but there’s no malice in the way he does. It sounds almost like a plea. And the fire within his eyes seems to burn even brighter as his gaze meets yours. “Please just shut up.”
You did not want to shut up. You wanted to ask what the fuck he thought he was doing. You wanted to show him just how it felt when he rejected you just days prior. You wanted to tell him that he was ‘fucking insane’ and slam the door shut in his own face. — You did none of that.
The next kiss is initiated by you, not him. It’s soft, and it reminds you of the one you’d given him last week. Slow, hesitant, but tender. And Beomgyu’s hands reluctantly drop from your face, gently sliding down your arms and sides before settling on your waist. — You had known for a long time now that you felt empathy for him. That you pitied him. Perhaps it was why you let him use you.
Tomorrow he would not speak of this. He would act as if it never happened, he would bury it as deep as he could. He might think that this is his only solution today, that this will be his solace for whatever might’ve set him off. But it isn’t, and when this night morphs into dawn, he will realize that. — You don’t want him to.
You should tell him to stop right now. He’ll only end up hurting you, not that he cares, he never had. But you, you should care. So why don’t you?
Your fingers tug his already loose tie off, letting it slip from his neck before you work on his shirt, hastily unbuttoning it. Beomgyu follows in your tracks, letting you shrug the torn garment from his shoulders before he reaches for the pajama pants you wore. — You stop him, your hand on his wrist. “On the bed, please”, you whisper against his lips.
His nod is barely noticeable before he hoists you into his arms. The sudden action startles you and you cling to him in shock as he gently places you down onto the mattress. He just about bothers to shove your laptop to the floor, muttering something incoherent about being able to get you a new one if it broke. You can’t find it in you to care, not when he climbs on top of you, the bed squeaking beneath his weight as he does.
You feel warm, fuzzy, intoxicated even. Bleary eyes finding his as he hurriedly presses his lips against yours again. It was almost as if he was trying to drown out whatever thoughts plagued his mind as his hands grabbed at whatever part of you he could access. — His fingers hook around the waistline of your pajama pants, attempting to tug them off once more, and this time he succeeds.
The air of your dormitory is cool against your naked skin, causing goosebumps to flare across it as Beomgyu slides your clothes down your body. He was moving fast, almost too fast. For some reason you let him, even though you know you probably shouldn’t. He was being selfish right now, wasn’t he? Using you like this, only to quiet his own worries, to soothe his own pain. He didn’t care for your feelings and he never would, not even now as his hands hover above your panties, fingers tracing their lining with eagerness.
Or perhaps you were the selfish one? He clearly wasn’t thinking straight. The Beomgyu you knew would never stoop to this level, he would never go for someone like you, and you would never allow it.. Right? — Were you selfish for using him in this state, for egging him on even when you knew that the two of you were to regret this in the morning?
Maybe.
You don’t care.
His fingers slide beneath the fabric of your pantines, running between your folds, circling your clit once as he pulls a shaky gasp from you. Your hands are still gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the skin there, leaving crescent like shapes in their wake. — He doesn’t wait, doesn’t drag the process out. You can tell that his mind is set on one thing. That’s okay, so were yours. Right?
You cry out when he pushes two fingers inside of your aching cunt, curling them meticulously as his lips trail down your jaw. Your hips arch off the bed, meeting his movements as you wordlessly beg for more. — “Beomgyu, we… we should..” You didn’t even know what you wanted to say, the feelings swirling within your chest were difficult to convey.
But he won’t have a word of it. “Shut up”, he grunts, the palm of his free hand pressing against your pelvis as he shoves you back against the mattress. He’s rough, surprisingly so. You’d always taken him for a little bitch. But his strength startles you, as well as sending a shot of heat through your stomach, making you clench around his fingers.
If he notices it, he doesn’t bother to comment, which is unusual for him. Something bad must’ve happened, that’s all you can think. Something so bad had happened that his only resolve was you. The thought of him using you to get over whatever had hurt, it should upset you. It should make you feel small and insignificant, but it never did.
Beomgyu tugs your panties down, throwing them over his shoulder as he parts your already spread legs. — Your hands glide over the apex of his shoulders, and you blink up at him expectantly. He doesn’t return your gaze. That hurt.
Instead he focuses on the zipper of his uniform pants, undoing it with a harsh tug before slipping hand down his pants. His low groan pierces the thick and hot air, the sound is one so sinful, one you could have never imagined coming from his lips. — Your eyes dart down to his cock when he pulls it free, tongue subconsciously darting out to wet your lips as you regard the way he languidly strokes himself.
“Touch yourself”, he says, his voice low and gruff as he eyes your dripping cunt. — Surprised, you hesitantly comply as you reach a hand down between your thighs, fingers experimentally dragging across your core. The small moan that slips off your tongue makes your face heat up as you avoid his gaze.
You push two fingers inside of your pleading cunt, not even bothering to put on a show for him as you let yourself become immersed in how it feels, how good it feels. In fact everything felt good, a little too good, when you know it shouldn’t. — You watch him through the corner of your eye, catching the bead of precum that slid down his veiny shaft. And your stomach flutters uncontrollably when he squeezes around himself, letting his head tip back with a strained moan.
When he’s evidently had enough, he pushes your hand away, ignoring your cries as you lose any semblance of pleasure. Though your loss is soon replaced by the head of his cock as he slides it between your folds. It bumps against your clit, making you shudder as your fingers twist in the bed sheets. — Your lips part, but Beomgyu’s hand covers them again.
“Don’t.” He grunts, his attention focused on the way his thick cock gently eases itself inside your warm cunt. Your eyes widen, a small and muffled noise of pleasure leaving you as you squirm beneath him. — “Don’t say anything”, he nearly pleads, his dark and burning gaze flickering to your face for a brief moment.
Your chest contracts, you didn’t understand.. Yet you complied, sealing your lips off to anything that wasn’t a cry or a moan. — Beomgyu’s pace is rough, leaving no room for you to argue as he snaps his hips against yours. The bed frame rattles against your wall, and you briefly worried that the sound would carry into the next room. Beomgyu doesn’t seem to care.
His hand slides off of your lips, resting on the mattress just inches from your face as he hovers above you. — Stifling a small whimper, you reach up to touch him, any part of him that you could. This was your chance, no?
You can feel every twitch of muscle as you drag your fingertips along his arms, letting your hands glide across his tense shoulders. Beomgyu shudders when you reach the nape of his neck. — He complies when you pull him down for another kiss. This one starts out slower, but quickly morphs into something that could easily match the pace he was keeping. His teeth pull your bottom lip into his mouth, biting down with a force that startles you, a surprised moan ripping from your throat.
He made you feel nearly delirious, like you didn’t exist, nothing felt real. But at the same time, you could feel everything at once. He was so close, closer than he'd ever been to you. Not even back then, back when you considered him your friend. Not even then did it feel like this.. Raw, scorching hot, burning and most importantly, alive.
Your chest is already hurting, already mourning the loss of him that was to come. Why couldn’t you just allow yourself to live in the moment, to give in to your desires completely, even if they were beyond what you knew to be possible. This was real, he was here, with you. For now, for tonight, everything was different, and you should let it be just that.
“I love you.”
The confession slips past your lips. It carries out into the dim room, bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears and pounding against your ribcage. Beomgyu stills inside of you, his dark eyes immediately landing on yours as they narrow. — Fuck. You shouldn’t have said that. Did you even mean it? Or had you let your flimsy emotions get the better of you once again.
But this wasn’t just a small peck on the lips. Something you could pull back from, something you could wipe off your mouth and forget about. This was you baring your heart to him. This was you showing your most vulnerable self. — This was you being selfish.
Beomgyu’s face twists into a scowl, the way it did whenever he tried to mask how hurt he was. Because that’s what he was tonight. Hurt. It’s why he’d come here. To use you. To let himself forget. He’d begged you to be quiet. — And you had done the exact opposite.
“You don’t.” His statement is cold, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “You don’t know what you’re saying”, he grunts. And his expression hardens when you insistently shake your head.
“I do”, your lips press into a thin line, determination flickering across your features. That was a lie. You did not know if you loved him. But you knew that you pitied him, that your heart ached for him. It was like every punch to his gut went straight to your heart. — Perhaps the hurt was so strong that you had confused it with love. Maybe your empathy for him got mistaken for real feelings in your mind.
How should you know? It wasn’t like you’d ever felt it before.
And he hadn’t either. You were sure of it.
“I know what I’m..” — “I said you don’t know anything!” Beomgyu’s voice cuts you off, it sounds like a scream. Ear-piercing and deafening. Beomgyu was yelling at you. And it scared you.
He shifts above you, elbows digging into the mattress and you suddenly remember that his throbbing cock is nestled within your cunt. You think he might pull back, that he will get up and leave. That’s what he should do. But he doesn’t. — Instead he jolts back into action, snapping his hips against yours with newfound force, his jaw clenching as his dark eyes bore into you.
“You’re confused”, he jeers, and you choke back a wanton moan when his thumb circles your clit. “Lot of girls get confused when they’re stuffed with cock”, he scoffs, “And you’re no different.” — Beomgyu was back to his old self, the cruel and menacing one. The Beomgyu that fronted whenever he tried to hide his true feelings, when the real him was feeling weak. You should’ve seen it coming, really. But his words still hurt, they always did.
He rams himself into you, making your thighs quiver as they meekly wrap around his chest, drawing him even closer. You screw your eyes shut, not wanting to see him for as much as another second. He doesn’t seem to care, in fact he hardly seems to care about anything at the very moment.
His fingers are harsh against your clit as he drinks in every moan you emit. And when you finally finish around his cock, your cunt fluttering around him, he doesn’t say anything. You pant, still refusing to look at him as you catch your breath. His thick cock makes you wince as it continues to push into you with demand.
Beomgyu pulls out wordlessly. Hissing out into the quiet air as he cums all over your spread thighs, his sharp intake of air pounding in your ears. His release is warm, a sickening contrast to the cold sweats that had broken out on your body. It nearly makes you shiver.
A new kind of silence follows after that. One full of knowing. Because you both knew that what had transpired tonight, was not something you would ever talk about again. The unanswered questions would never be brought to discussion. And you were supposed to be okay with that. You were supposed to be okay with this.
You don’t know if you ever will be.
⸝⸝
The bed was empty that following morning. The only trace of Beomgyu were the rustled sheets where he’d slept. And you spent nearly an hour tracing their patterns with the tips of your fingers, following every crease of duvet carefully as you memorized the shape of him.
You knew that this was how it was going to end, as nothing more but yet another mistake. Another reason for him to hate you, and you him. Which is why you shouldn’t feel this melancholic. He sure as hell wasn’t. So why should you suffer? Yet it takes everything in you to drag yourself out of bed that day.
The water is scorching hot against your skin, and you lean against the cool tiles as you close your eyes. But no matter how hard you scrubbed, how many layers of soap you covered yourself beneath. The feeling of his hands never went away. You almost thought you could see them, the faint outlines of his hands, all over your body. And as soon as you let your mind wander, even for just a second, you could feel him on you again.
With a shudder you shake your head, promptly turning the water from flaming hot to an icy cold. The warmth reminded you of him, of the fire in his eyes and the burn of his touch. Cold water did not remind you of anything, that was better.
Part of you had thought, almost hoped, that he would come to you, that he would beg of you to keep quiet, to not utter a single word about the night that had been. But he never did. Presentation day comes, and it passes again. It wasn’t very dramatic, in fact, it was like nothing had changed at all.
Beomgyu showed up. He didn’t look you in the eyes when he took his papers from you. He didn’t look at you during the presentation, he kept his gaze ahead, fixated on the rest of your joint classes. He didn’t speak to you before, during, or after it. Not even a simple, ‘well done’ or even a ‘thanks’ when you’d offered to take his papers and throw them away for him.
His indifference hurt the most. Perhaps the night had meant nothing to him. It had been just as you suspected, a way for him to forget. Forget whatever it was that had happened with Yeonjun that afternoon. — It had worked. Beomgyu seemed to have forgotten, but you remembered, you remembered far too much.
Winter break began a mere three days later.
A different kind of excitement lingered in the air. No matter how old you got, the joy of Christmas never seemed to dull people’s spirits. Almost three weeks to spend with family and friends, three weeks away from the tortuous hell that was college. Except you would stay right where you were.
This would be the third Christmas you spent on campus. And while the school offered the remaining students to gather in the cafeteria for present unwrapping and long movie marathons, it was never the same as the warm embrace of home. — But home has long since lost its meaning to you. And Christmas no longer felt like a holiday.
Taehyun had left as well, leaving you with nothing but your own thoughts to reconcile with. Suppose it was during the holidays you realized just how lonely you were. That hurt, of course. — You would spend your days doing mundane things, like reading, writing, drawing… Anything to get your mind off of the almost depressing reality you faced. It usually only worked for an hour or so. It was like a constant loop of distraction, one where you chased the comfort that slowly slipped from your fingers.
But you were tired of chasing.
⸝⸝
Your worn out sneakers make an awful squeaking noise against the polished floors and the sound rings in your ears. It’s all you can hear, which serves to quiet your thoughts for a moment, proving to be quite the distraction.
The long hallways are eerily empty and quiet, it gives them an almost uncanny feeling. Campus no longer felt like campus, more like a shell of its former self. You knew that it would change as soon as break was over of course, but for now you were forced to make your way down the vacant halls all alone in order to get to the cafeteria and have dinner.
It was for these exact reasons that the sudden tap to your shoulder made your heart drop.
With a quick spin of your heel, you come face to face with the person you’d least expected to see. — His dark hair is nicely done, and his eyes glimmer with a kindness that two months ago would have had you doing a double take. Snow had melted on the shoulders of his jacket, and the tip of his nose was a bright red. An almost gentle smile is splayed across his rosy lips, and he gives a nervous chuckle. You almost didn’t recognize Choi Yeonjun.
“Hey uh..” He scratches the back of his neck rather awkwardly, his eyes darting around the empty hallway. “You don’t happen to know if there’s someone with keys to classroom 017? - My girl forgot one of her books in there before the break you see..” — You remain silent. You don’t think you’d ever had a decent conversation with Yeonjun, ever. It had all been mean and crude comments, nasty smirks and awfully childish pranks where you became a laughing stock.
So to say that it felt a little weird to be approached by him like this, well that would certainly classify as an understatement. Your first instinct was to walk away, to leave him hanging like he deserved or perhaps you should belittle him on his obliviousness, did he not know all keys were held in the lobby? You refused an eye roll. — For the first time since your night with Beomgyu, a different kind of emotion blossoms within your chest.
Anger.
Your mind easily recognizes Yeonjun as the one who’d taken Beomgyu from you two years ago. It was him who you’d blamed for the way Beomgyu turned out, it was him who was at fault. It was him… He…
You swallow, giving him a small nod, “Think there should be someone up by the lobby.” The polite words sting on your tongue, your fingers itching as they clenched and unclened. Yeonjun on the other hand, smiles, his grin stretching wide as he thanks you. What had changed?
“I best head there then.” With his hands stuffed deep in the pockets of his jeans, he turns and begins his journey down the lifeless corridor. You watch him, eyes trailing over his figure for a moment before you call out. — “Hey, wait!”
He pauses, turning back to you with raised brows. You march forward without giving yourself the chance to think it over once more. The sounds of you sneakers squeaking against the floors becomes almost deafening but you disregard it as you come to a halt before him. Straightening yourself up, you hold his confused but intrigued gaze.
“You were friends with Beomgyu, right?” It wasn’t a question, but you phrased it like one anyway. The smile immediately falls from his face upon hearing your words, and for a split second, the old Yeonjun, the face you recognized in the halls fronted. His lips twist into a small scowl and his dark brows furrow. “What’s it to you?” His voice had grown sharp, almost snappy, perhaps you’d hit a sore spot.
Something had happened.
Yeonjun studies you for a moment longer, his brown eyes drinking in your frame. His tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, and he looks almost thoughtful. Then he huffs a short breath, it sounded almost like a laugh. — “Oh, yeah that’s right. I know who you are.” He stated it like it was an insult, like your name weighed heavy, and for all the wrong reasons.
You can feel the confusion evolve on your face, he can too. “Why, I bet he’s told you everything. Bet he came running to you like a bitch.” Yeonjun’s menacing sneer is far from unfamiliar and your chest twists at his words. What was that supposed to mean? — “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was true. You had no idea what had happened between the two of them.
It’s silent for a moment, and Yeonjun studies you closely, as if searching for lies. When he finds none his shoulders visibly relax. He lets out a short breath, averting his gaze, as if the confrontation of the subject made him uncomfortable. — “He’s an immature bitch, what do you want me to say?” He doesn’t hesitate as his eyes snap back to you, this time with something akin to fury.
“Couldn’t accept my girl so why should I accept him. – But come on now, he’s told you that already.”
You don’t answer. Your fingers nervously fiddles with one another as your hands rest by your sides. What was he talking about? What was there for you to know. — Your silence seems to make the pieces fall together in his mind, finally assembling a large puzzle and Yeonjun’s face lights up. “Oh shit”, he huffs, “He hasn’t told you anything at all.” It’s a statement, one that makes your heart drop.
He runs a hand through his dark hair, a near sinister grin playing on his lips. “Fucking hell.” — He glances down the hall, which was ironic considering how blatantly vacant it was, then he turns back to you. “I thought– I mean I”, interrupting himself only to clear his throat, Yeonjun looks to be fighting back yet another laugh. “I mean I thought you guys were…”
Shaking his head, he drags the flat of his palm across half his face. “Fuck, I guess not. That’s sad. Really.” — You want to object, tell him that whatever assumption he was currently making was wrong. You wanted to tell him that you and Beomgyu were exactly that. But that would be a lie. And you’d had enough of those.
“Do you not miss him?”
The question takes him by surprise, and Yeonjun pauses as he glances back at you. For a moment he looks offended, taken aback by your bluntness. His lips curl into a small scowl, the one he used to wear in the halls, not anymore though, now it was reserved for only one person, Beomgyu. — “Don’t think that’s any of your business, no? – I mean you guys aren’t even..” He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth in a disappointing manner.
“Just stay in your own lane”, he then adds, giving you a quick one over. “You’re better off without him anyway. – He’ll only bring you down with him.”
Without another word, Yeonjun walks away. And you don’t stop him. For some reason, his words hurt. They were never directly targeted your way, so why did it hurt to hear him talk bad about Beomgyu? — Why did you feel the need to take on his pain as well, why did you feel the need to carry a burden that was never yours.
The walk to the cafeteria feels even heavier than usual, and you barely get any food down that evening.
⸝⸝
The days sort of blend together when you have nothing to do. They’re rolling on a loop, one after the other, and each one would follow the same mundane pattern. With only a day to spare before Christmas, you finally drag yourself off campus grounds, determined to at least make an attempt at lifting your spirits.
Stores are beyond crowded, and you get shoved left and right as you swim your way through the large masses. God, had none of these people done their Christmas shopping with at least a little margin? — Supposedly not.
You didn’t know what you wanted, hardly anything seemed to catch your eye. Still, you scour the near empty racks, even when nothing appeals. A small cry to your right diverts your attention in said direction where a young girl clings to her mom. — “I want this one!” She whines, her tiny feet stomping against the hard ground. Her mom sighs but eventually complies, shoving yet another toy in their already full cart. She looked exhausted.
Your gaze lingers on the tired moms who rushed about with bags stuffed full, on the dads who checked off lists, on the workers who wiped sweat from their forehead as they tried to get through the long line of customers waiting to pay.
All this commotion for a single day of the year. As much as the thought itself made you want to snort, there was also an undeniable sense of longing that filled your chest. You, too, wanted to rush about, you wanted to have to worry about what to get people for Christmas. You wanted to stay up late and wrap presents, you wanted to see the joy on their faces, hear their laughs.
You didn't want to be alone.
Walking was nice. But it becomes tiresome after a while. With your coat wrapped snugly around your body, you stroll the campus grounds absentmindedly. The cold air made your nose freeze and your cheeks sting, but you refused to return to your dorm just yet. There was something so comforting about being swallowed by the shivers running down your spine, or perhaps it was just numbing, like medicine, only it would never cure you.
The frosty grass crunches beneath the sole of your shoes, and you trudge forward with heavy steps. There was but a thin and crisp layer of snow, one that could be erased with the swipe of your foot. So much for a white Christmas, you thought with a bitter scoff. — Your fingers are on the verge of falling off, but you clutch the small bag in your hand anyway, swinging it back and forth in tune with your casual strides.
You pass a most familiar bench, now coated in a thin blanket of white but undoubtedly the same. Without thinking twice you come to a halt, feet melting into the ground as they force you in place. Furrowed brows press against your narrowed eyes as you peer over at the very same spot where you had seen Beomgyu sitting not long ago, all by himself.
Everything seemed to remind you of him, even when all you wanted was to forget his mere existence. You look away, blinking the hurt from your eyes as you glance toward the entrance leading back inside, leading to warmth and to safety. You should go, you should go there now. But it’s impossible to get yourself to move forward, your legs refuse to carry you and you feel your knees buckle.
With one harsh shake of your head you pull yourself from the small trance. And finally you move, but it is not the entrance you approach. — The old bench squeaks under your weight, and with the help of a gloved hand you dust the worst snow off.
Sigh. Everything looked different now, yet it was as though nothing had changed. You close your eyes, and for a second you could almost imagine him as he sat beside you, sharing a laugh and perhaps even melting the cold away with your hand in his. The image pains you just as much as it warms you.
Had it not been for the cold, the moment out on the bench might have even been tranquil. But the harsh winds soared through your body, chilling you to your core as it forced you to huddle in on yourself. You suck in a sharp breath, the cold air slicing down your throat as you force your almost numb lips together.
Arms wrapped around yourself and fingers digging into your forearms, you’re so busy keeping the cold out that it takes you almost a whole minute to recognize the soft patter of frozen grass crunching beneath feet. But when the sound does reach your ears, your head jerks in its direction.
There, on the other side of the once grassy field, without as much as a uniform or school bag in sight, is Beomgyu. You’re taken aback by his casual appearance, much so that you almost completely disregard his even more unusual visit. But only almost. — What was he doing here? He had a lot of people to spend Christmas with, no? What business did he have on campus?
You shift on the old bench, the squeaking noise of the wood however, catches his attention. You swallow when his dark eyes find yours, even from across the field. For a split second you think that he might just keep on walking, to continue his act of nonchalance, as if nothing had ever happened between the two of you, and that you were crazy for even suggesting such a thing.
But Beomgyu’s gaze doesn’t harden, nor does it lessen. In fact his expression remains completely impassive, though his actions speak for him. He puts one foot before the other, and it’s not until he’s gotten about halfway across the field that you realize where he’s headed. Your stomach drops as you watch him push his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders slumped as he approaches. Your gaze flickers to the bag in your hands, swallowing nervously as you tune in to the sound of his footsteps nearing.
Beomgyu doesn’t say anything when he sits down beside you, and you listen to the squeaking noise the bench makes in protest to yet another element of weight. You peer at him through the corner of your eye. His hair was shorter, the dark strands no longer reached the nape of his neck but stopped just below his ear. Even the bruise on his face had begun to fade, now it was a mere light purple, with splotches of red coating its edges. Lastly, the tip of his nose, which was an uncharacteristic shade of pink, one you found to be almost endearing.
Your attention travels to the clothes he wore, the jacket looked expensive, undoubtedly more than you could afford even if you saved all your money’s worth. Funnily enough, he doesn’t seem to care for it as his fingers lazily pick at its seams. Beomgyu took a lot of things for granted, you could tell. — Things you could only dream about.
The silence surrounding you is thick, hugging you tight and keeping you from moving. Your lips part as you attempt to break said silence, despite how dry your throat feels. Beomgyu however, is quicker than you as he heaves a sigh.
“Why are you out here?” He asks, his gaze still fixed far ahead as his fingers give his jacket a small break. You had expected a ‘hello’ perhaps even a ‘how are you?’, maybe you would even have been content with a sharp glare or a ‘fuck off’. But Beomgyu leads the conversation in a completely different direction.
When your silence becomes deafening he turns to you. His eyes are filled with something you can’t quite place, something unlike his usual self. He searches your face, as though looking for clues with the help of a magnifying glass. “It’s cold”, he then adds, as if the obvious could not have been made any clearer.
You scoff, shaking your head as you fiddle with the bag in your hands. “I’m dressed for it”, you mutter without looking at him. Beomgyu hums, and for a second it sounds as though he’s about to say something else, only to stop himself. — The thick silence returns, this time it feels almost claustrophobic. You wanted to ask him about that night, you wanted to ask him about Yeonjun, you wanted to ask him about the two of you, you wanted to ask him…
“Why are you out here?” Your quiet whisper is nearly swallowed by the whirling wind but Beomgyu manages to catch it as his attention jumps from the naked trees and back to you. There were a thousand thoughts swimming within his eyes, things that were just waiting to be said. So why didn’t he?
“It’s Christmas”, you add, watching as his lip twitches in amusement. — You could not remember the last time you’d made Beomgyu laugh. He shakes his head, tongue prodding against his cheek. “It is”, he nods in agreement, his gaze dropping to the bag clutched in your hands. “Present?” He asks to which you slowly nod.
Pulling your lip between your teeth, you exhale a deflated sigh, “A stupid one.” You didn’t want to admit that you had bought it for yourself, considering the fact that it would be the only gift you were to receive this year, again. It’s quiet after that and you desperately hoped he would drop the subject again.
Beomgyu shrugs, “Isn’t that the whole point of Christmas?” When you only frown, he continues, “I mean, wrapping things up and giving them away.” He scoffs as he runs a hand through his dark hair, “Using gifts as condolences, it’s quite materialistic don’t you think?”
You wanted to argue that it was not, but as your gaze flickers over the expensive clothes he wore, you realized that he didn't seem even a tad grateful for them. Perhaps they had been just that, condolences. — Your thoughts are interrupted by Beomgyu as he shifts on the bench and his hand reaches into the pocket of his coat.
“I’m not much better”, he murmurs when pulling out a small box. It fit perfectly in his palm, enveloped in silver wrapping with a tiny bow on top. You eye the tiny present with intrigue, your stomach flipping at the sight. — He inhales sharply as he twists the box between his fingers. “Reflecting, repenting all that bullshit..” He mumbles as his brown eyes meet yours, “Suppose that’s what I’m trying to do here.”
Confused, you open your mouth to speak but before you can get as much as a word out, he hands you the gift. His eyes look near pleading as he silently begs for you to accept it, as if it would mean you accepted his apology. Perhaps it would take the guilt off his shoulders if you did. — The frown on your face only grows, but you set your own bag down before reaching a hesitant hand out to grasp the present.
It feels light in your palm, almost weightless. “Open it”, Beomgyu encourages beside you, his warm breath ghosts across your cheek and you hadn’t even realized just how close he was. — Shrugging your mitten off, your free hand carefully plucks the lid from its container. You can feel his gaze on you, watching intently as you gently tug the rustling paper aside.
Your breath catches in your throat and your eyes widen tenfold when they fall on the familiar piece of leather. It was the same warm brown, and the contrastingly dark navy blue. The bracelet which you had cherished for so long, the one you had clung onto in the hopes that his matching part would still exist somewhere.
“I…” You breathlessly begin but Beomgyu quickly cuts you off. “I.. I’m sorry, yeah, that’s what I was…”, he trails off, shrugging as he averts his gaze sheepishly. It’s weird to see him like that, it reminds you of a time long ago, a time before everything.
The reality of his words slowly sank in, Beomgyu was apologizing.
You had spent countless sleepless nights, tossing and turning in bed as you prayed and hoped for a time like this. Was it selfish for you to wish for things to be the way they had been? You wanted to bring back someone who no longer existed, a version of him that was but a mere memory, remembered and kept alive only by you.
Yet here he is, doing just as you had hoped, and for so long. But you hate Choi Beomgyu now. That was a fact. And he hated you too. So this didn’t make sense, no, it wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be apologizing. He should have brushed it off, acted as if nothing had ever happened and given you a shoulder cold enough to bring back the ice age.
“This is wrong.. — I mean, you can’t just-” Biting back a frustrated groan, you twist uncomfortably in your seat as you avoid his reluctant gaze. You can sense his confusion, and it only fuels your frustration. Did he not understand that he couldn’t just undo everything with a simple ‘sorry’ and a gift.
Beomgyu swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing against his throat. “What?” He asks, his gaze dropping to the untouched gift still in your hands, “Do you not like it? — I can get you something else.”
You shake your head, “It’s not about the gift, Beomgyu.” — He frowns, “Then what is it?”
“Everything.”
You’re looking at him now, your heart hammering in your chest as you fight your nerves. “It’s everything, okay? You, me–” You motion between the two of you, “Yeonjun, the presentation, us.” It wasn’t just something you drew a line over, something you blurred and pushed back in the depths of your mind as you tried to forget it.
“But, why does any of that matter?” He wonders with a confused frown, his bottom lip slightly jutted out as he regards you with caution. You have to hold back a scoff, your fingers curl around the small box, knuckles turning white as you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Because it does! You might not get that, but it hurt me.”
Beomgyu groans as he runs a hand through his short hair. “Fuck, I already apologized what more do you want from me?” His anger matches yours in a way that instantly reminds you of just how bad you could be together, of how deeply he made you feel. — “What difference does it make?” You snap, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill.
“Everything.”
“It changes everything, alright?” His chest heaves when he exhales, his eyes flaring with the same fire they had that night, the night when he wasn’t thinking straight. He probably wasn’t right now either. — “Because”, he swallows, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he regains his composure. “Because I don’t know how else to change things.”
He drags a hand across his face, like he didn’t know what else to do with himself. “You act like I’m the biggest asshole to walk this earth and next thing I know you’re kissing me. It confuses me and it angers me. But even when you’re mean you’re nice, and I hate how it makes me feel. — I hate that it’s you I want to go to when shit goes wrong, and I hate that I did. I hate how you let me use you that night.”
He’s barely taking breaks to breathe in between sentences, and you catch the subtle flush to his cheeks as he speaks. “I fucking hate the fact that you’re always on my mind, much more do I hate that I never even try to will those thoughts away.” Beomgyu bites his bottom lip, chewing on it for a good five seconds before letting it go as he sneaks a glance your way. “But I…” He sighs as he finally comes to a conclusion after his long battle with himself. — “I don’t hate you. I want to, but I can’t”
You swallow, your hand still hugged by the mitten feels clammy and sweaty. Your heart races and your mind jumps between his jumbled words with little coherence. You don’t think you’d ever heard him say so many things at once, and certainly not like that. His usual mean and crude self had completely drained from his system and left was a shell of the Beomgyu you thought you knew.
It was then, you think, that you realized Choi Beomgyu wasn’t so different from you after all. Your gaze drops to the small gift still in your hands. What had once weighed so little now felt heavy in your grasp, like you were holding all of him, all at once. The bracelet fills you with hope, something you’d long since given up on entirely.
You glance toward him. His jaw is clenched tightly as his narrowed eyes peer ahead, intent on avoiding you it seemed. His apology was complete and total shit, his reasoning even worse. But Beomgyu was quite shit at most things. So were you. — Your gaze lingers on his pink nose, bitten by the cold. Your own nose stings too, for the both of you had been out here far too long.
In the pale winter air it became clear. Beomgyu was lonely, just as lonely as you. The slump of his shoulders and the defeated look on his face surely matched your own. You imagine how the two of you must look from afar. It would have to be quite a pitiful sight. How could one be lonely in the presence of someone else? Only two jackasses must manage something like that.
But you didn’t want to be a jackass anymore, and neither did he. — So you shift on the bench, ignoring the squeaking noise it makes as you turn to Beomgyu. “Do you want to watch a movie?”
⸝⸝
It’s awkward at first.
The soft rustle of bed sheets, the untouched bowl of popcorn between you, the flimmer coming from the Tv screen as a cheesy romcom movie plays. Beomgyu, who was usually more than at home in your dorm, was now stiffly sitting on his side of the bed, his back straight as he pressed against the headboard. He appeared almost nervous.
You weren’t faring much better, in fact your hands were dripping sweat as they remained tightly clasped together. Neither of you had touched the large bowl of popcorn, and they had long since gone cold. — Despite the freezing temperatures outside, your small dormitory seemed to be burning up.
None of you had said a word since the movie began playing, and before that you had been communicating with fast and hushed murmurs as you avoided each other’s gaze. — Never had you imagined that you would be spending Christmas with Beomgyu, much less on the small and squeaking bed in your dorm.
Did this mean that things were starting to look up between the two of you?
Your heart practically leaps to your throat when you feel him shift on the mattress. Everytime he moved, even if it was just a mere centimeter, you tensed up. But the dramatic beating of your fluttering heart was only increased when he suddenly appeared even closer to you. His body feels warm, scorching hot inside the already airless room.
He doesn’t say anything, and when you steal a glance his way, you find him watching the Tv. His expression would be relaxed if it weren't for the subtle twitch of his jaw when he felt your eyes on him. — Your attention drops to his hands, they were placed on the bed either side of him, his fingers moving absentmindedly against the sheets as he fiddled with them.
Your lips pulled into a small smile, and oh how you had missed smiling.
Beomgyu frowns when you suddenly climb off the bed, leaving behind an empty spot that radiates your sweet scent. He looked as though he was about to say something, one of his hands reaching out before stopping himself again. — He watches as you reach for the same bag you’d been clutching so tightly out on the bench, the one that had been completely disregarded in the end.
You clear your throat, standing awkwardly by the edge of the bed as you hold it in two hands. “I…” Your throat feels parched and your lips dry as your tongue wets them, “I want you to have this.” You reach the bag out toward him and Beomgyu's frown only deepens. — “But it’s yours..” He murmurs as his eyes flit between you and the bag in your hands.
“I want you to have it. — Besides”, you shrug, “You’re not the only one who’s been an idiot here.”
His brow raises at your words, a small grin tugging at his lips as he gratefully accepts the token of an apology from you. You take the moment of him peering inside the bag to retake your position next to him on the mattress. Eagerly you watch as his frown deepens, only for it to ease up as he realizes what he was looking at.
“This is..” He begins, one of his hands reaching into the bag as he pulls out the small bracelet. Beomgyu’s jaw slacks as he turns the cool and brown leather in his fingers, thumb caressing the warm and red embroidery. “You…” He cuts himself off, whether that was because he did not know what to say next or did not dare to.
Your gaze flickers to the small box placed on your bedside table, perhaps you weren’t complete jackasses after all.
“Why did you…” He swallows, and though he never finished his sentence, the question swirling within his eyes was obvious. — You shrug, nibbling on your bottom lip as you regard the bracelet in his hand. “It just… felt right.”
There was no other way to explain it. For as you had trudged forward on tired feet, with heavy and droopy eyes, you had stumbled upon the very thing that had haunted you for so long.
It has been a small stand, hardly making itself known amongst its competitors. The handmade jewelry however, immediately caught your eye. You recognized the leather, eyes widening even further as they caught glimpse of the warm red braided into it.
Your stomach had dropped, just the way it would on a rollercoaster before its drop. That was undoubtedly the very same bracelet he’d worn, the one that had wrapped around his wrist so delicately, a constant reminder of what you had once lost.
“That one,” You had said as you pointed to the accessory. Why? Because it felt right. Words would never even come close to describing the pull you felt, the immense need to have it. — But now, as you watch it lay in Beomgyu’s open palm, his lips parted as he regards the very bracelet, you understand perfectly.
Things were exactly how they were supposed to be.
Beomgyu’s hand suddenly drops, and he twists in his seat as he turns to you. The touch of his fingers against your cheek makes your eyes widen, the subtle reaction not passing him by unnoticed as a sly grin pulls across his lips. “What are you doing?” Your brows knit together, the soft confusion on your face only amusing him further.
His breath is warm against your lips as his own hover above them. The tip of his round nose brushes against yours, the small contact sending a jolt of electricity through you. “What I should have done from the start”, he murmurs before pressing his lips to yours.
⸝⸝
The agonizing noise of violent video games fill the open spaced living room. Continuous shots are fired, easily drowning out the sound of the doorbell. Completely immersed in his game, Yeonjun doesn’t look up until he feels the cushion beneath him shift as somebody takes the seat next to him. He doesn’t turn his head and look, he already knows who it is.
“How did you get in?” He asks in a somewhat monotone voice, his eyes still glued to the Tv screen in front of him as he taps the controller in his hands. Beomgyu, who occupies the other half of the cough, shrugs as he spreads himself out on the soft furniture, just like he had so many times before. — As though nothing had changed.
“Your girlfriend let me in”, he simply states as he, too, tunes in on the violent game. Yeonjun on the other hand frowns, his face morphing into confusion as his thumbs slow down on the buttons. At last, the game comes to an end and he tears the headset from his ears. — “Oh, so you talk to her now?” He retorts, his tone snappy and sharp as he tosses the control onto the coffee table.
Beomgyu bites the inside of his cheek, his gaze still fixed to the ‘New Game’ flashing on the screen. “I do”, he hums, fingers absentmindedly toying with one another. Yeonjun scoffs as he throws a glance in the direction of his supposed friend. — “Any particular reason?” He queries to which Beomgyu swallows.
There’s a momenteral silence following his question as the two of them remain quietly seated on the couch. Neither of them move, the air feeling heavy yet filled with a sense of anticipation. Finally, he clears his throat as his anxious fingers come to a halt. “I’ve been acting like an asshole..” Beomgyu murmurs as he pushes a hand through his now short hair.
Yeonjun looked as though he was biting back a snarky remark, his gaze flickering between the other and his own hands. “No shit”, he mumbles under his breath, unable to hold the comment back as he sucked in a sharp breath. His gaze jumps from his hands and over to Beomgyu’s as he nervously fiddles with the seams of his jeans. He can’t help but notice the oddly familiar bracelet around his wrist.
It takes him a good minute, but soon the pieces fall into place. His lip twitches as his eyes stray by the bracelet. — “I’m sorry”, Beomgyu quietly adds. It seems apologies were becoming a new habit of his. It took Yeonjun by surprise, making his eyebrows rise on his forehead, all the while Beomgyu avoided his gaze.
“I haven’t been too good either, I suppose.” Yeonjun reluctantly admits as he gives a small shrug. Beomgyu doesn’t reply but still nods as he purses his lips. Another thick silence follows, it’s not uncomfortable, but it’s not one either of them want to linger in. Yeonjun is the first to break it when he clears his throat.
“I missed you man”, he says, his words light and filled with sincerity.
Beomgyu finally finds himself looking at his friend, his eyes widening just a fraction. “Yeah?” He asks, the ghost of a grin playing across his lips. Yeonjun scoffs as he leans further into the couch, “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it get to your head.” But it’s already too late, for Beomgyu was smirking as he leaned over to grab the discarded controller.
“Wouldn’t dream of it”, he drawls as he presses ‘New Game’.
you can't hold back when you ask, "how come you didn't tell me that you were moving?" soobin pauses, his head slowly lifting up to gauge your facial expressions. "i mean, i know we weren't super close but we were science partners and i was a little hurt when i had to find out from the teacher that you left." your voice gets soft to show that you weren't angry at him, just curious.
"i-" soobin's had comes out to comfort you, but he stops himself and drops it onto the bed and grips onto the comforter instead.
fem!reader x soobin, virgin!soobin, nerdy soobin, he blushes a bunch, making out, handjob, cum-tasting, he stutters a bunch, glasses!soobin, beomgyu and taehyun cameo!, kind of premature cumming, this is kind of long i'm so sorry !
note from luna: a request that i got carried away with and took me super long to write (˃̣̣̥ᯅ˂̣̣̥) , i really hope you enjoy it nonetheless (@mymelodying)
as far as you knew, the last time you saw choi soobin was your senior year of high school. you occasionally talked in the one class you shared together, science. he was your lab partner and you would often have to do experiments and assignments with each other, maintaining an 'A' average throughout the year. in class, soobin often kept to himself and was typically hunched over his work or books. he never spoke too much and when he did, he would stumble over his words and pink would dust his cheeks while he avoids any and all eye contact with you.
when you got the chance, you would often glance at his belongings. you heard the talks about him outside of class, the whispers in the hallways about how "weird" soobin was. the way he watches so many animated shows/films was obsessive, always nose deep in recent manga, mumbling to himself about the characters and major plot points. they would talk about the way he dressed, draped in over-sized hoodies and sweats, his glasses that were just a tad bit large on his nose and often slid down the bridge. you were endeared when you would catch him pushing them back up, a small smile creeping onto your face.
one day in class you took notice to the little stickers that littered his folders and notebooks, also the plush keychain that hung from his backpack. you thought it was cute how he showed his interests in little ways like that, especially since he wasn't able to talk about them to these judgmental students in school. you never thought it was strange like the other students saw it to be. but to soobin, your wandering eyes must have felt that way. he snatched up his things with shaky hands and shoved them in his bag, his face burning red. before you could get a word out, he sped-walked out the classroom and down the hall.
you and soobin never got close, never had the chance to. aside from playing with chemicals and writing scientific equations on a piece of paper, you didn't get to talk that much. here and there you would gather a little information about him, but he would often shut himself up from going on and on about his interests or life. he kept it short, like he was drawing a line between the two of you. it pained you a bit that he felt like he had to hold himself back, you noticed the light in his eyes when you would ask him a question and the way it faded when he caught himself. his eyes shaky and gnawing on his bottom lip, changing the subject to science-related topics.
the day before soobin left, it was a friday and you managed to get a smile from him. it was a stupid joke you made while doing an experiment involving looking at germs. you mustered up the courage to lighten the tense mood since you've been working for an hour on the assignment, jabbing soobin in the side before he pressed his eyes into the scope.
"hey," he turns to you, his eyes immediately shifting when they locked with yours. he stares at a corner of your face, but you were used to it. just like you were used to the pink that spread across his face whenever you would converse with him. "why did the germ cross the microscope?"
he furrows his brow and chews on his bottom lip, "w-why?" he stutters.
you hold back a laugh as you complete the joke, "to get to the other slide." you couldn't hold back for long as you burst out with laughter at how dumb the joke was, it wasn't even that funny. yet, you couldn't help yourself. soobin's eyes widen at the sudden loud sound, his face flushing as he turns away while trying to stifle a laugh. he looks into the microscope in front of him, but you don't miss the small smile that comes onto his face. nor the little dimple that appears on his cheek.
you were the last to know about soobin and his family deciding to leave the city for one that was three hours away from yours, which meant he would be transferring high schools. you didn't have a chance to say goodbye or thank you for all his help during the class as he just stopped showing up. you were pretty worried, it wasn't like soobin to miss a day. let alone it being three in a row, your anxiety was starting to eat you up and you decided to ask the teacher about him.
"you didn't hear, soobin transferred last week. friday was his last day."
it shocked you, he never talked about leaving. granted, you weren't the closest to him but you thought with the small-talk you often made he would mention something like that. or even bring it up the day before he supposedly left, the day you saw him smile for the first time. before leaving the classroom, you took another glance at the seat next to yours that was empty with something heavy weighing on your heart.
after he moved, it took about a month before you got use to his absence. everyday you walked into class your eyes would immediately fly to the seat he once sat in. you hoped that you would find him sitting there with his disheveled black hair, his glasses that were perched on his little nose, his lips that would be pursed in concentration as he worked out a problem in his study book. you would deflate when he wasn't there, shuffling to your seat and plopping down with a sigh.
you eventually got a new lab partner, beomgyu was his name, and the two of you would come to be good friends. often finding yourself doing the same things you would with soobin, plus some. hanging out with the boy after class and talking to him about his interests. sometimes you'd find that same glint in beomgyu's eyes that you saw in soobin and get sad, shaking the feeling off with a small smile.
you would eventually forget about soobin in the following months leading up to graduation, maybe not completely though . even though you knew he wasn't there, he couldn't possibly be, your eyes still searched the sea of graduation caps hoping to find those glasses and flushed cheeks you grew fond of.
you and beomgyu walk into your first chemistry class of the semester together, shoulder to shoulder, and laughing about some video that he sent to you this morning. the two of you ended up getting accepted into the same college after vowing to never separate post-graduation. you were happy to know one person for your first year, and even happier that it was your best friend beomgyu.
you take a seat in the third row of the classroom with a sigh, beomgyu following and plopping down next to you. you turn towards beomgyu with a blinding smile and he playfully shields his eyes, making you push him. before you could strike up a conversation about your excitement, the professor walks in along with some straggling students who didn't want to be marked late on the first day. she was a short and limber lady, with a high bun resting on her head and circular glasses that framed her face well. she looked like the kind of professor that enjoyed her job.
she shut the door behind the last student to enter, before making her way to her desk. she fumbles around with her many folders and laptop, pulling up a slide show. the room is mute of talking, the only sounds being the shuffling of students reaching into their backpacks for their computers and pencils, prepared to take any introductory notes. as she sets up, the door to the classroom creaks open and everyone's heads turn in the same direction.
a boy with wired-headphones plugged into his ears walked into the room. he was wearing a black tight-fitted shirt that hugged his sides, it was tucked into his jeans that fit his thighs perfectly, his dark hair was mussed but in a stylish way. he grimaces and his face flushes when he realizes the squeaking of the closing door was bringing unwarranted attention to him, dimples that looked a little familiar appeared on his cheeks.
"class starts at eight, young man." the professor says, grabbing the remote that controls the screen now that her slides were pulled up. he turns in her direction, popping the buds from his ears and wrapping them around his phone, his face seemed to turn even darker and he sucks in his bottom lip. you cock your head to the side, the more you stare at him and watch his actions, the more familiar the boy looks. distant memories that you can't quite catch float around in your head.
"s-sorry. it's not an excuse, but my alarm didn't go off." his voice was deep and smooth as he spoke, honesty laced in his tone as he apologized. all around you, the girls in the class started to whisper to their friends. presumably about his good looks, you would do the same with beomgyu if it weren't for you trying to wrack your brain trying to figure out why you think you've seen him before. he presses his lips together and bows his head awkwardly in apology. he starts to head for a seat, but he's stopped by the professor speaking again-
"i'll let it pass this time since it's the first day," she starts and he nods his head in acknowledgement, his grip tight on his bag-strap that was slung across his slim waist. "what's your name?" everyone tunes in, wanting to know the name of the handsome boy who would be in this class for the semester. he runs a hand through his hair, his eyes darting around the room and avoiding stares. "ah, c-choi soobin."
you freeze, your eyes widening at that name. choi soobin? like choi soobin that you went to high school with? choi soobin who suddenly upped and left one day? the same one who buried himself in over-sized clothing and his glasses that never sat on his nose right? that's the same guy who was standing in front of you, with fitted clothes, no glasses on his face, and a lot taller than what you remembered, that soobin?
your eyes follow him as he walks past you once the professor dismissed him to a seat that was a few rows behind you, you couldn't help it. you haven't heard that name in about a year and now he shows up again in the same college as you, in your science class? your eyes lock briefly when he goes by, his eyes immediately shifting away and his face going pink. you don't think he remembered you though, besides it's been a while and you also forgot about him until this moment.
all class, you could only think about the boy who you were semi-acquainted with in high school and how much he has changed. your body itched to turn around and catch a glance at him, figure out if it was actually the same boy you knew.
"you okay," beomgyu whispered to you, poking a finger into your side. you give him a nod before placing your face in your hand and gnawing on your bottom lip. you had to talk to him after class, right? you needed to know if he remembered you, thought about you even a little after he left.
you were lost in thought until the final minutes of class, the professor clapping her hands together sharply before clicking to the last slide. it was an announcement that she will be putting us in pairs, and we'll stay in that duo for the semester. you'll do labs, assignments, and presentations with your partner. it reminded you a lot of the class you took in high school.
"hopefully we're together." beomgyu whispers, crossing his fingers and you smile at him while also twining your fingers in hopes. we wait while professor starts calling out pairs, your heart beating fast. the both of you take a pause when beomgyu's name is called.
"choi beomgyu and-" he bites on his bottom lip and squeezes his eyes shut, grabbing onto your hand and holding it tightly in his. "kang taehyun." he deflates, throwing a pout at you and you caress his shoulder. he turns around and finds his partner who raised his hand. he gets up with his belongings and makes his way towards the boy and they immediately jump into conversation. you think he'll be alright and you shoot him a thumbs up when he looks your way with a soft smile.
you jump when your name is called next, snapping your head to the front of the room. hopefully whoever you get is nice and not someone who will slack off and make you do all the work, that's the last thing you want in a college-level chemistry class. "and choi soobin."
you eyes widen and your mouth drops open in shock. what are the odds that you and soobin would be in a science class together and be lab partners at that. it gave you a reason to talk to him again after some time, but you haven't thought about what you would say. how would you even bring up what you wanted to talk about?
when you turn around, soobin was already looking back at you. you couldn't quite read his facial expression, he looked a little surprised but also intrigued. he would shift his eyes away though, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. you gathered your belongings and headed up the stairs to his row and taking the seat next to his.
you look at him from the corner of your eye, too scared to turn and look at him and just fidgeted with the pencil in your hand instead. you let the professor finish putting people in pairs, she tells the class to exchange info with your lab partners and get to know them as our first lab will be on thursday. there's about fifteen minutes of class left and she dismisses us to be able to converse.
slowly, you turn your head towards him. "hey,"
soobin jumps and rubs his hands anxiously over his thighs. he looks over at you and bows his head, before turning away again. he squeezes his eyes shut and says something under his breath you can't catch.
"uh, so… we should probably exchange numbers like the professor suggested since we're going to be together for a whole semester. and we might have to keep in contact with eachoth-" you started to ramble before soobin suddenly cut you off.
"did we go to high school together?" he asks, turning towards you. he quickly catches himself, his face burning and his eyes shifting away from your stare that felt too intense. he looks down at his lap, at his fumbling hands that were there. "ah sorry- i mean…m-more specifically did we have a science class together?" he mutters the last part.
you freeze, so he did remember you…"uh, yeah. we were lab partners back in high school." you answer his question while nodding your head.
there was the tiniest smile that came to his face, crooked and cute. "i thought so…" he mumbled more to himself. his hand comes up to his nose like he was going to push up his glasses, but his hand curls into a fist when he realizes they weren't there.
"what happened to your glasses?" you blurt out without thinking. soobin's drops his hand onto the table and his face turns a pretty shade of pink.
"my-my glasses? i, um stopped wearing them awhile ago. i wear con-contacts now." his hand scratches the back of his neck as he speaks and he clears his throat often the more he talks, like he was thinking of the next words to say as he said it.
"mmm," you hum in understatement. before you could ask another question, about why he left so suddenly without saying anything, it was the end of class. the professor would announce that while also telling us to pick up our homework for the day. a worksheet to get to know all about your lab partner, like we were in kindergarten again.
soobin packs up his belongings and you can't help but to notice the keychain that hung from his backpack, the same one from when we were in high school. you smile to yourself and soobin gets up, a quick and jerky movement that startles you a little.
"i-i'm gonna go now," he stiffly says, sliding behind you and starting for the stairs that leads to the door. you bite your lip, quickly getting up and packing your stuff to follow him. you can't let him get away that easily, not when you got the chance to finally see him again.
"wait-" you say, catching his hand that was on his phone and ready to unravel his headphones. he flinches away, snatching his hand back and leaving yours hanging mid-air. when you look at him, he was blushing, his eyes looking everywhere but at yours and his cheeks were puffed out.
"sorry i- i was just wondering if you wanted to get started on the homework?" you ask him, dropping your hand and clutching onto your tote bag. soobin taps the screen of his phone with his thumb to check the time.
he opens his mouth to speak but gets interrupted by someone slinging their arm over your shoulder and ruffling your hair. you knew it was beomgyu cause he was the only person that did that to you, the little punk.
"shall we grab some lunch, i'm starving~" he asks, pinching your cheek. he stops when he realizes that soobin is standing there, looking between the two of you with wide eyes. he particularly focused on beomgyu's arm that was around you, which striked you as odd.
beomgyu nods at him before shoving a hand out in front of soobin, "hi, i'm beomgyu! you must be soobin and this losers lab partner." you roll your eyes, shoving his arm off of you and making him pout. soobin tentatively takes his hand, shaking it almost robotically before letting go.
"so," beomgyu turns to you, bringing his face completely in your view. you notice the way soobin turns his head away, his face burning. "are we getting lunch or not?"
you lean back and gesture towards soobin, "actually, i was going to get started on the homework assignment with soobin." you smile at beomgyu who drops his obnoxiously and his eyes flicker towards the boy that was standing there shuffling on his feet. he looks back at you, wiggling his eyebrows.
you never talked to beomgyu about soobin, never felt a reason to. it felt better to keep those little memories you had to yourself, instead of loading all you grievance on someone you just met. so, to him it probably looked like you were looking for a hook-up.
"oh, that's cool! i'll just get lunch with taehyun and catch up with you later?" he taps your shoulder and gives you a shit-eating grin that makes you roll your eyes even harder than the first time. he skips away, smirking at you as he heads out the door to track down his new friend.
soobin looks at you, not for too long of course, before staring down to his feet or the ground beneath them you weren't too sure. he drums his fingers against his bookbag strap, the silence stretching on.
"uh, sorry about that…do you have any time to do the assignment right now?" you ask him.
soobin's head pops up and he seems to perk up a bit at the idea of you still wanting to hang out with him, "yeah down- i'm down!"
"we can go to my dorm, it's only a five minute walk from here. if that's okay with you of course!" you offer, pointing in the direction of your room. soobin blushes furiously, but nods his head in agreement. you smile, waving your hand and motioning for him to follow you.
"me and beomgyu share this place, but he shouldn't be back for awhile. but you already knew that…"
soobin shucks off his shoes before looking around. it was a cozy and small dorm room that he can tell is properly lived in. plushies littered the couch, there were two mugs on the coffee table in front of it, he placed his shoes next to the others that were by the door. it smelt good too, like cinnamon and something else he couldn't name.
you watch as soobin scans the place, his head turning until it lands on you. he gets startled as if he forget that it was your place and that you were actually in it. you don't fight the giggle that bubbles up and comes out.
"we can go to my room, it's more comfortable." you smile at him and make your way down the hall and to the right where your room was, opposite of beomgyu's who was on the left. he follows you into the room and jumps when you shut the door.
you gesture towards the bed, "have a seat." he nods and rummages through his bag for the assignment, a clipboard, and a pencil to write with. he settles on the bed, but he doesn't move. he looks almost frozen as he sits there and you smile fondly at how shy he can truly be.
you sit next to him, climbing onto the bed and crossing your legs with the paper in your lap. soobin mirrors you, being sure to put a little bit of distance between the two of you as he does.
"i-i'm ready when you are." he says, scrunching his nose and pushing up imaginary glasses. your eyes linger on him a little longer than you intended, soobin's eyes shifting and his cheeks turning rosy as he clears his throat.
"right- um, first question is…what's your favorite thing to do?" you look up from the sheet for him to answer first.
"i would say m-my favorite thing to do is read or watch tv, it's what i do the most." he shrugs his shoulders while you write down his response.
"and what do you like to read and watch?"
"nothing much, just…what everyone else reads and watches." he answers, his hands fidgeting around his pencil.
"and what is everyone reading and watching?" you tease. soobin stutters over his words, his tongue felt tied as he tried to come up with a lie and think about what trending shows he's heard others talking about.
"i'm messing with you," you laugh, placing a comforting hand on his thigh. he tenses under you and you pull away, he immediately relaxes when you do. "but i did notice the jujutsu kaisen figure on your bag, do you like that show? it's anime, right?" soobin's eyes are wide when he looks at you, his mouth moving like a fish.
"you know about jujutsu kaisen? have you ever watched the show?" he sounded excited that someone recognized the figure, as if it wasn't one of the most popular ones out now. he had that same shine in his eyes that he did back in high school when he would talk about things like this.
you felt a little bad when you had to admit the truth though, "i've never watched it, but beomgyu always talks about it!" you try to make the situation a little better and give him a topic to bring up with beomgyu whenever he sees them again, maybe they can become friends too.
"oh…" he deflates, tapping his pencil against his paper.
"we could always watch it together, since we're going to be around each other the whole semester." you suggest to him.
"really? you would watch?"
"yeah," you answer honestly and watch with fondness as soobin smiles, sucking his lips into his mouth in an attempt to hide it. it reminds you of the day before he left, the same day you finally saw him smile.
you can't hold back when you ask, "how come you didn't tell me that you were moving?" soobin pauses, his head slowly lifting up to gauge your facial expressions and feeling the shift in the mood. "i mean, i know we weren't super close but we were science partners and i was a little hurt when i had to find out from the teacher that you left." your voice gets soft to show that you weren't angry at him, just curious.
"i-" soobin's hand comes out to comfort you, but he stops himself and drops it onto the bed and grips onto the comforter instead. "i wanted to say goodbye… i didn't even know we were moving until i got home that day." he mumbles with a small head shake.
"everything was already packed and they were loading up the u-haul truck. i hardly even had time to process it all and once i did i was in a new city surrounded by a bunch of new people. b-but believe me when i say i wanted to say goodbye at least…" and you do believe him. he sounded too sincere and his eyes reminded you of a sad puppy, his lower lip jutting out into a pout as he spoke.
he almost looked he wanted to cry and you couldn't have that, not over something so small. you were just curious as to why you never saw him again, you didn't mean to upset him in the process. you don't remember how or when but when you snap out of your thoughts, you're close to soobin. super close, with your hand pressed against the side of his warm face.
he was blinking at you wildly, his fingers gripped tight into your covers. you gasp, your eyes widening as you steal your hand away and pulling back. "sorry, i don't know why i just did that…"
"you-" soobin presses his lips together, furrowing his brows.
"i…?"
"you whis-whispered something,"
"what did i whisper?" you nervously ask.
he clears his throat, "you said that you missed me…"
you were taken aback, you didn't remember saying that but soobin said you did and he didn't have a reason to lie. did you miss him? when he left, you did think about him a lot. even after meeting beomgyu and graduating, there was little moments when he would pop into your mind and you would wonder how he was doing. if he was doing the same, thinking about you at that very moment.
you look at the boy who was so different from what you remembered. his muscular and toned body that was visible through his shirt, his legs that were a lot longer than before and encompassed by his jeans, his slender hand that held his pencil, his big and curious eyes that were no longer framed with glasses, his pretty and pink lips that were pouted so cutely. you wanted to lean in and kiss them-
your lips touch in a chaste kiss that lasts a second. when you pull back, soobin's eyes were squeezed shut and his lips were still protruded. you giggle, hiding your smile behind your hand and soobin's eyes crack open. he was blushing furiously and he had a sheepish look on his face.
"it's true, i did miss you…" you admit to him. you shove the classwork aside and crawl towards him. soobin's breath hitches when you start to come closer, his legs involuntary parting and allowing you to fill the spot between them.
you bring your faces close enough so that your breathes mingle between the little space there was. you slowly bring your hand up to his face again, your thumb rubbing under his eye. soobin's breath gets shaky as he lets your explore his face, gnawing on his bottom lip in nervousness.
you let your finger trace the bridge of his nose where his glasses used to be, "do you still keep your glasses around?" soobin brain was malfunctioning and he couldn't speak so he simply nods his head and points a trembling finger at his backpack that was on the floor. with a smile you hop off the bed to grab his glasses that were in a cute case before repositioning yourself to where you were.
you raise the glasses up to his face and gently slide them over his ears and up his nose. they were the same ones he had back then, except now they fit his adult features. they looked perfect on him, against the pink of his cheeks.
"so handsome," you mutter while continuing your evaluation of his face. letting your fingers trace the bow of his upper lip, soobin's stuttering breath making them moist. you look him in the eyes, "can i kiss you, properly?"
soobin swallows, his eyes sliding to the wall behind you. "i-i don't know how… i've never kissed somebody before." he whispers.
you were slightly taken aback, "really?" it was a little hard to believe that someone that looked like this has never kissed anyone. he shakes his head slowly, his nervous eyes finding their way back to yours. it was cute, the contrast between his striking visuals and his timid actions. and the fact that you were the first person to kiss him, be close to him like this, defile him was kind of turning you on.
with a gentle touch, you tap his lips. "just keep these open and follow my lead, hm?" soobin nods again, licking his lips and parting them, shutting his eyes as you move in close to him. you tilt your head to slot them together with his and soobin's fingers grip onto the blanket.
you take it slow and let soobin get the feel of making out, he's clumsy at the start of course. he can't quite find the right rhythm and sometimes he'll press too hard. he pulled back a little at one point and whispered against your mouth, "is that right?" you would grab him by the chin gently and hum in agreement before pulling him in again.
this time soobin melts into the kiss, finding the pacing easier this time as you capture his lips. wrapping an arm around his neck to keep him in place, sliding your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and making soobin shiver. his whole body squirms as your nails scratch his scalp gently, a tiny whimper slipping into the kiss.
the sound sent tingles through your body and you wanted- no needed to hear it again. you grip the hairs and tug them just a little, just enough to tilt his back and deepen the kiss.
"ngh," soobin moans into your mouth, his pretty lips opening wider. you place a hand on his chest, pushing him back onto his elbows. you slip your tongue into his mouth and soobin allowed you to explore his mouth, moving your tongue against his. he finds himself liking the way it feels, his body heating up, his pulse racing, and there was another sensation happening…between his legs.
he can feel the way your hand slides down his chest and tense tummy, heading right for the spot that was throbbing. his breath hitching when your hand ghosts over his crotch, your hand warm against the prominent bulge. his hips twitch up into your hand and he moans at the contact, the friction was delicious and he wanted to chase it.
it wasn't until you started rubbing at the same time as he grinds into against your hand. he found that the longer you did it, the better it felt and there was something coiling in his belly that made his breathing uneven and his body tingle. it scared him a little and he would pull away from the kiss, pushing your hand off of him, "wa-waitwaitwait-" he voice was breathy and his face was flushed, lips red and swollen.
"what's wrong?" you ask with concern, your hand that was just making him feel good was now rubbing his shoulder in comfort. soobin's skin was tingling with every graze, but it was bearable and not as intense as whatever just happened.
he ducks his head in embarrassment, his voice low when he speaks. "i-it's just that was my first time feeling something… like that."
"did you not like it? we can stop if you don't wan-"
"no!" he shouts, his head popping up and his eyes wild. "n-no it's not that i didn't like it…in fact i think i liked it too much. there was this feeling, right here." he points at his lower abdomen, right above his cock that was still hard and twitching in the constraints of his jeans.
"it was really intense and overwhelming, it scared me a little. it was too much, too fast," his speech is fast, his face burning all the while. you giggle a little and let your hand drop back down to his hard-on. soobin jerks, his legs twitching at your sides and lets out a breathy moan as his eyes flutter.
"what you were experiencing was getting close to having an orgasm. you've never touched yourself before?"
soobin's body felt like it was on fire, "no, never…"
"well," you lean into his neck, letting your breath ghost against the sensitive skin. soobin swallows when you trail your lips along the side. "would you like me to be the first to touch you there?" he moans while nodding his head, giving you the consent you needed to hear.
you unbuckle the belt that was around his slim waist, unzipping the zipper and sliding your hand into his pants. soobin watches with heady eyes, blinking slowly as if he didn't want to miss anything. you pull his cock from his pants, the tip was glistening with precum and you press a finger into the pool. you bring your finger to your mouth, lapping at the liquid.
"w-what are you doing, why would you eat…that?" soobin stammers, but his eyes were glossy as he watched you lick up his precum. it made his cock twitch between the two of you.
"it's sweet," you simply reply. "wanna try some?"
soobin tentatively nods, one small motion of his head and you kiss him. immediately, you push your tongue into his mouth while wrapping your hand around him and lubing him up with his own precum.
"uhn," soobin moans, his hips slowly raising up into your fist and his hand comes up to squeeze your arm tightly. it feels so good, he feels so good that he can't even keep up with the kiss. his mouth going slack as he continously moans and whines.
the air between the two of you is humid, soobin's glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose from the sweat building there. his hazy eyes looking at you through his almost fogged lenses, letting out an assortment of needy sounds.
you start to jerk him earnestly, letting your hand go up and down his cock at a quick and steady pace. drinking up all of the whimpers and pants that soobin feeds you. he leaks profusely over your first, a tell-tale sign that this was in fact his first time being touched.
soobin couldn't think, his brain was clouded and his skin was prickling with pleasure. he couldn't control his hips that kept thrusting up, chasing after that intoxicating feeling of your hand on him.
"i-" he gasps when he feels that coil in his tummy again, coming at him quicker than the first time. he doesn't think he can stop it this time though, his body tensing as the pleasure ramps up and his orgasm builds.
"you?"
"i don't think i can hold back -" he choked on his words, shaking his head. his eyes were shiny like he could cry at an moment from feeling so good. you let your hand graze his tip briefly and that seems to be soobin's breaking point.
"i'm- i'm gonna cum," he breaths, his eyes rolling back and his hips kicking upwards in one final thrust. his body twitches, a long and high-pitched moan of your name flowing from his mouth as he comes in your hand.
he tosses his head back, his one hand that was in the sheets so tight that his knuckles were white and his other hand that was on your shoulder was shaking. he felt like he could see white as he came, he felt light and dizzy as multiple spurts of warm cum landed on his shirt and jeans.
you stroke him while he comes down, his breathing heavy and his bottom lip was now sucked into his mouth as he tried to regulate himself. "wow," you smirk, admiring the amount of cum that landed on his clothes. soobin gets shy, his face burning as he turns his head away.
"i'm sorry - i didn't mean to cum so quickly…" he apologizes.
"you don't have to apologize for that." you reassure him, sticking a hand into his mussed hair before reaching down to push his glasses back up his nose and making him crinkle it cutely.
"it-it's embarrassing… cumming just from you touching me." he mumbles, his eyes downcast in shame.
"not embarrassing at all, it's hot." you lift his head up and make sure he's looking into your eyes, letting him know you were telling the truth. he swallows, his throat bobbing and he nods his head.
you laugh, letting his face go and grabbing some tissues from the bedside table. "but if you came that fast just from a handjob, i don't think you would've fared if we went all the way."
soobin's eyes go wide, whimpering when the soft tissue touches his sensitive cock. "i-i… i could've lasted longer!" he counters, a little frown on his face as he said it. you tuck him back into his boxers and zip his pants up.
"really?" you raise an eyebrow, tossing the dirty tissue aside and climbing into his lap. you settle down, pressed directly against soobin's sore cock and moving your hips a little. soobin moans, his hands coming to your waist while nodding his head.
"well, we have a whole semester to figure that out now don't we?" you smirk, as you hop of his lap and start to head out of the room. soobin watches with a furious blush on his face as you go.
"w-wait, my pants!" he calls out, leaping off the bed to remind you off his cum-stained pants he was wearing. he pauses though, looking down and groaning. he was rock hard again. "dammit," he mumbles while shoving a hand between his legs.
how was he supposed to survive chemistry like this?
IN WHICH after yet another gym session with Taehyun, you start feeling weird things. Things you never thought you would have to worry about when it comes to one of your close friends. Fortunately, Taehyun will gladly help you take care of the itch he caused.
kang taehyun x fem!reader
contains— smut, gym partner!taehyun, friends to ??, oral (f. rec.), penetration, fingering, breast play, biting/marking, reader is ovulating
word count— 3.8k
↪ izzy speaks... Legends say they are still at it like some wild animals
request | taehyun m.list
You weren't into sports much throughout your childhood, so when your friend suggested you'd try the gym with him, you had no intentions of saying yes to him.
So how exactly did you find yourself in a gym so often after all? You're not sure. One minute you were telling Taehyun that you don't want to go, and the other you were already practically living in here. It just happened without you having any control over it, and you blame his persistence.
If Taehyun wasn't going with you so often, you definitely wouldn't be here. Every time you had a session planned together and he apologized to you because he won't be able to make it, you just didn't go either. Your motivation relied on him, so despite how much you wished to be the girl who would go work out just because she wants to, you aren't her.
"Come on, one more," Taehyun encourages and you have to fight the urge to not snap at him. One thing you learned about yourself on your little fitness journey, you hate bench press. It's so stupid. It's dangerous, dumb, and you beg Taehyun to let you off the hook every time he says that's the next machine you're going on. You know it could easily be solved if you decided to start planning your training on your own, but you like it more when he's the one in charge.
Not only does he plan the machines around in a way you can be near each other all throughout the training, but he also actually understands fully what you're training on each thing. If you were to plan your own rotation, you would just be on the same five machines every day. Which, even you know wouldn't do you any good.
"I can't," you complain, a strained whine leaving your lips as you try to push the bar up once more. Your hands won't move though. You seriously can't. "Tae," you beg, completely out of power now.
When he hears the struggle in your voice, realizing you won't push it up again, he quickly steps forward and wraps his fingers around the middle, bringing it up with ease. You sigh in relief when he does, letting your arms drop to your sides. "Let's take a break," he suggest and you look up at him. You'd love to say it's easy to find his eyes when he is standing right behind your head, but thanks to the position, the only thing you find are his pants. You quickly avert your eyes, trying your hardest to pretend you didn't just lock eyes with his print.
Pushing yourself up, you sit on the bench while he unloads the weights. You feel like you're going to die. Blinking up, your brows furrow in confusion as he comes to stand in front of you, offering you his bottle. "Finish this, I have more left than you do in yours," he practically pushes the bottle into your hands, which you're glad for because you do need that water.
"Why do you like torturing me so much?" You ask as soon as you rest the bottle on the floor again. "Is this some sort of a kink? Finding pleasure in seeing me get crushed down by weights?"
He snickers at your question. "I'm not a sadist," he assures you with a shake of his head. "I seriously thought you could do one more."
"As you can see, I couldn't," you sigh.
"Do you want to move onto legs? I need to get two more sets in," he points towards the spot he's been occupying until he came to spot you, and you nod. "Just do whatever you're in the mood for. I'll join you in a bit."
You go refill both his and your water bottle before moving on. You settle on a leg press — your favorite machine unlike the one you just had to do. It's positioned in a way that allows you to watch Taehyun as you work out, admiring his drive for this. Even all these months later, you still admire how determined he is. He is incredible.
You keep your eyes on him while pushing the weights with your legs, watching as he grips the bar above him and pulls himself up. It doesn't look easy at all, and you're glad he didn't make you do that yet. You're sure you'd fail. The last time you attempted to do a pull up was probably in high school, and even then, it ended with utter embarrassement.
Taehyun only let's go off the bar once he loses his strength completely, finishing his set. He shakes his arms on his side before reaching for the bottle you filled, instinctively looking for you with his eyes. As soon as he finds you, he smiles, a soft curve of his lips that almost causes for you to fail your set. Steadying yourself quickly, you pull at the lever on your side to catch the weights, relaxing for a second.
He takes a long sip and you let your eyes wander for a second — simply admiring what work outs do to his body, you convince yourself. His Adam's apple is exposed, sweat running down and making it glisten. You can see it even from across the room. His black shirt clings to his body, hugging every one of the muscles he built with such precision. You've seen him with it off a few times before, and you can confidently say his shirt doesn't do him justice.
His abs are perfectly toned, a sight you could look at for hours. Then, of course, there are those legs. Those fucking legs. Taehyun has strong thighs that others easily overlook. The amount of times you found yourself staring at them while he'd work out in the past months is not something you could recall. The memory of him helping you at the bench press rushing to your mind, the sight of his legs practically right on top of your head. God.
You need to get a grip. You can't be thinking about the print you saw when you were trying to look at him, not when you're in a room filled with people.
Your body doesn't listen to your head, though, and your eyes drop down on their own again, locking with the same print you are not supposed to be thinking about. Fuck me. The words are printed all over your mind in bold letters, making you feel like you're going crazy. Who the fuck stares at their friend like this and thinks about fucking them? All because of the fucking sweatpants he decided to wear.
So when it comes to it, it's really his fault.
You are not the one with your muscles out.
Fucking hell, are you ovulating?
You force your gaze up again just to find Taehyun already looking at you, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Your lips part but no words come out. You're not even sure what you wanted to say. It's not like he'd be able to hear you if you did speak either way.
You watch as he pulls his weight up again, his eyes still on you, before looking away, trying your best to focus on your set. You must be going crazy. And ovulating. Because since when is Kang Taehyun hot? Kang Taehyun, the same guy who you met in your high school math class and stayed by his side since then. Kang Taehyun, who saw all kind of versions of you throughout the years and supported you when you needed it. Kang Taehyun, who you always thought was just a great friend to you.
Looking at him now, though, all sweaty with his boba eyes watching you and his strength out in the open for you to see, the last thing you feel is that he is just a friend.
The rest of your set goes by in a blur. You can't focus. You can't do anything but thing about the man on the other side of the gym. You're a mess. Both in your head and between your legs.
You need to get home.
"How much longer do you need here?" You blurt out as soon as he joins your side again, not giving him a chance to speak.
He blinks confusedly at first, looking around the gym. "Uhm, if you want to go already we can I was just going to do—"
"Please," you nod, desperate to get out of here.
"Okay," he doesn't question you further. "Let me just grab all my things and we'll meet in the car?" You don't answer him, hurrying out and leaving him there, his confusion only growing.
If he's honest, he's been confused for a while. Ever since you parted ways and he stayed behind to finish his pull ups, he's noticed the change in your behavior. It wasn't anything huge so he didn't think much of it, holding your gaze just like he normally would. But then your eyes started flickering all around him, almost in distress. To say he's been wondering what you're thinking about is an understatement.
He keeps about it as he goes into the changing rooms. As he changes back to his jeans and a new shirt, as he walks out of the gym and heads towards his car, as he opens the door for you like he always does and sees your flushed cheeks, and as he drives towards your apartment. Especially as he drives towards your apartment. He can't get rid of his curiosity, trying to figure out just what exactly you were thinking about while watching him like that.
Like what? He honestly isn't sure.
As wise he knows he is, his skills apparently don't include reading people's expressions well.
"Wait," he stops you before you can run out of his car when he parks in front of your apartment. "Are you okay? What's—"
"I'm good, Taehyun," you brush him away quickly. "I just— I really need to go," you excuse yourself, but just as you grab the handle to open the door, he catches your other wrist in his hand, not letting you go. Your name slips from his lips, a confused plea to tell him what's going on with you. But you can't. You need to take care of the itch he managed to cause in the gym. You're desperate to take care of it and find a release to this sudden attraction you feel towards him. He's doing things to you you don't want him to know about.
"I can clearly see you don't feel okay. Can you at least look at me? Did I do something to upset you?" The desperation in his voice makes just only that much crazier. The need you hear in his voice to understand you better sending a shiver down your spine, one that forces your thighs together. You really need to get away from here.
"It's not that," you shake your head quickly, your lips forming a straight line as you try your best to keep any signs of what you're feeling hidden.
"Then what—" he pauses, losing his breath for a second. "Oh." Your brows furrow confusedly at the sudden change, following his eyes to see what he's seeing.
Your eyes widen instantly when you realize you've been rubbing your thighs together. You quickly push them apart, "Fuck, fuck, fuck," you curse on repeat, brushing his hand off yours and finally opening the car door to escape.
"Wait!" He calls after you, only met with a harsh slam of the passenger door. He's quick, getting out of the car as well and meeting you at the back as you get your gym back from his truck. The sound of your name makes you freeze but you brush it off as fast as you can, heading towards your apartment. He closes the truck door and locks his car, rushing after you without a single care that what you are so desperately trying to get away from is him. "Can we talk?"
"Not a great time for a talk, Tae!" You yell back at him, searching for your keys.
"I think it's the perfect time!" He claims, appearing at your side before you can unlock the door. "Just listen to me. Let me help."
"You don't want to help with this," you shake your head, barely listening to what he's saying.
"I do!"
You stop in your track, blinking at him confusedly. "You do?" You question, taken aback.
"If you were just listening to me for a second, you would have known."
"But you— we— this—"
"Do you want me to take care of that itch or not?"
You don't hesitate any longer, breathing out a desperate, "Yes."
You're not sure how you expected a kiss with Taehyun to look like, but it wasn't as gentle as this. You dropped your gym back in the hallway as soon as you closed the door behind yourself, and he didn't waste any second, latching his lips onto yours. And while the hands gripping your flesh were anything but, his kiss has been soft and tender.
If you didn't know any better, you'd think he's been wanting to do this for a while.
With your back pressed against the front door, you moan into his lips as he pushes a knee between your parted legs. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer as you kiss him with more urgency.
"How long?" He asks before moving his lips lower, planting wet kisses to your throat. "You're like this because of me, right?"
"Yes," a whine escapes through your lips, your ears red from the embarrassement.
"How long?" He repeats his question, helping you rock forward on his thigh. His fingers dig into the flesh of your waist as he does and you crazy. You need to get these clothes off.
"I don't… know," you cry into his ear, trying to move your hips faster. "It just happened." He hums into your skin. "Taehyun, please."
You feel him smirk against you as your plea reaches him. His hands move under your shirt, cupping your breast through your bra. You suddenly regret wearing a sports bra, wishing you'd have a more flattering one instead. "Will you get this off for me?" You nod, and as soon as he has his confirmation, he lowers himself down to his knees.
Your head spins at the sight, finding him more attractive than ever as he kneels in front of you. He toys with the hem of your pants, waiting for you to take off your shirt before pulling them down. You get rid of your sports bra just as quick, locking your eyes on him again.
Unlike you, he takes his time getting you rid of the last piece of clothing, his eyes glued to your skin as he hooks his fingers into your panties. The wet fabric is clinging to your pussy and Taehyun groans at the sight. This has got to be the best day of his life.
He drops the clothing to your ankles and you step out of it with ease, kicking it aside. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling at the brown locks lightly. He looks up, his mouth opened and just inches from where you need him the most. He grips your waist again, his fingers digging into your skin. "You're beautiful," he whispers, pressing his lips to your thigh. "Do you know that?"
You shiver under him, the image of him looking at you from between your legs now planted in your head. You watch him as he pulls one of your legs over his shoulder, steadying you in place with his hands. You're obsessed with the way he murmurs your name against your skin, grabbing any flesh he can get his hands on as his mouth meets your clit.
"Fuck," you breathe out instantly. It feels like forever since someone ate you out, your body recognizing the pleasure immediately and inching forward. Taehyun's tongue flickers over your sensitive bundle of nerves before dipping lower. His tongue slides between your folds, collecting all your wetness. The grip you have on his hair tightens, causing a low whine to leave his lips. You feels the sound in every part of your body.
You want his cock inside.
Crying out, barely understandable blabs leave your lips as you beg for more. You're not sure if he can't hear you or just doesn't care, but he simply continues with what he's been doing until now, taking care of your clit with his tongue.
It's only once he hears you moan his name that he decides to be nice to you, letting his fingers join. You almost thank him as he dips one of his fingers inside you, adding to the pleasure. The second finger comes right after, moving in a slow rhythm.
Adding a third fingers almost makes you come. Despite the teasing slow moves, he is nothing if not skilled. With his fingers pumping in and out of you and his tongue working you at the same time, you could probably come at his demand.
He hums against your skin, noticing you get closer. "Will you come for me, pretty?"
You whine at his words, nodding instantly. You feel hot all over, burning with need. Keeping him right where you want him, your legs shake around his head. It comes so fast, your breath shakes as you finish on his lips.
He pulls away only after licking you clean, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he brings his fingers to his mouth, wanting you to see him suck the last bits of you off. You moan at the sight, dropping your leg back down to the floor, trying your best for them not to give out. It feels like another work out.
"Come here, I need you to know how perfect you taste," he says as he pushes himself up again, chasing after your lips. Wrapping your hands around him as he kisses you, you use it to help you stand straight, needing to hold onto him. As if he could read your mind completely, he pulls away just enough to speak. "Do you have enough energy to stay here?"
You shake your head quickly, not seeing a reason to hide it from him. He nods back, not wasting any more time and picking you up with ease. You hook your legs around his waist while he grips your ass, getting more and more obsessed with touching your naked skin. "Bedroom?" He questions. "Please."
He sounds just as desperate as you are. God. You need to feel him inside. Nodding, you point him towards your bedroom despite knowing he is well aware of your apartment layout. It's not the first time he is over, but it certainly is the first time he's made you come at the door. Hopefully, it's not the last one, though.
Before you can even register being put down, Taehyun is already undressing, enjoying the way your eyes trail down his body. If you thought he was hot before, you are completely gone now. As soon as his shirt is off and you get a look at his build torso, you get wet all over again.
"Condoms?" He asks, his eyes locked on yours as he undoes his belt. Jesus. Can't he think about you a bit more? How are you supposed to not bounce on him instantly — even without getting that condom first — when he looks like this?
"In the drawer," you nod your head towards your bedside table and he nods, dropping his belt on the ground and pulling down his zipper as he walks around the bed to get it. You make yourself more comfortable as you watch him get rid of the last bits of clothing as well, climbing onto the bed to join you.
Your eyes fall to his cock even before he starts rolling the condom over his length, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sight. You don't think you could even explain how pretty his dick is.
"Tae, please," you look up at him, batting your eyelashes. A barely audible groan leaves his lips as he closes the space between you and presses his lips to yours, his cock rubbing against your clit. Your hands wander across his naked skin, feeling the hard build muscles you're starting to appreciate a lot more than before.
Moaning into each other's mouths, his tip stretches your walls, taking his time with each inch. For a moment, you forget completely that he's one of your friends, everything you feel too much to be considered that. From the pleasure to the pound of your heart as he whispers sweet praises into your ear.
You rock your hips against his, meeting his rhythm. There's a loud yell in your head, begging for more despite his cock already filling you so much. "Turn around," you whine and Taehyun listens, flipping the both of you so he's not laying on his back with ease. As you sit on top now, you feel him even deeper, your hand resting against his chest for support.
His eyes stay locked on you, flickering between your face, bouncing tits, and the spot where his cock disappears into your body. He can't get enough. Thrusting his hips into you harder, the sounds you make get louder. It's a song to his ears.
Bringing his hands up, he squeezes your boobs, rolling your nipples between two of his fingers. You bite on your bottom lip to prevent the loud sounds from escaping, but it doesn't work as well as you'd like, the pleasure he brings you stronger than your want to stay quiet.
"I'm gonna come," you cry, rubbing your clit to help yourself get over the edge.
"Fuck," he groans. "You're taking me so well, I'm going to come too."
Still playing with your breasts, he takes you to another orgasm, moaning with you as you drop your head to his shoulders and sink your teeth into his skin, needing to focus on something other than the intense orgasm crashing down your body. As soon as you do, he paints the condom white as well. The sound he makes as he comes must be the prettiest one you've heard in a while.
Giving you a few more sloppy thrusts to help you both ride it out, he tries to help you off him only for you to sit right back down on his cock again. "What are—"
"Please," you cry. "Just one more." Raising your head to look at him, you watch as his eyes flicker with want. His cock is as hard as if he didn't just come.
"You're going to be the death of me," he moans, claiming your lips in his. "Let me get the whole pack you have, baby, I think we'll need them."
SUMMARY: When your best friends gets a little jealous but he seriously has nothing to worry about.
DISCLAIMERS: guys idk this was random and also just smau, more fluff, all pictures are from pinterest and are not mine!!!!!! thank u enjoy, txtblr email me, intak p1harmony mention and minji new jeans ok?
💌 mika’s message he’s gonna get eaten by me. a big bite will be taken out of him and you guys are not gonna look at me okay???
"You seemed to have garnered quite the reputation for you on campus— one that had the word “trouble” following you like a shadow. But when you give Beomgyu an offer he couldn’t possibly turn down in exchange for helping you get your grades back up, how could he refuse? You can’t possibly be that hard to handle, right?"
Beomgyu x fem!reader, ft. Hueningkai
Genre: college au, slowburn (kinda..?), tutor!gyu x rich girl!mc, fluff, angst, smut
Word count: 37.1K
Warnings: mc is a bitch, and maybe a bimbo? gyu wears glasses, and he’s like super super shy, mc gets sick for a scene, she rambles but its part of her character ok!, toxic relationships, pining/unrequited love, Yunjin is so fake here im sorry Yunjin, mentions of alcohol/drinking, the puppy gyu agenda is fucking strong here !!!
Smut warnings: multiple smut scenes first of all, fwb!huening, dom!hyuka, switch!mc, sub!gyu, (the worst case of sub gyu yet), virgin!gyu, breast play, dry humping, biting, pet names (f rec: princess, m rec: puppy, good boy, baby, slut, etc.) mentions of bondage (f. rec.), spanking (f. rec.), degrading, praise, praise kink, finger sucking, oral (f. & m rec.), handjobs, mouth fucking, cum eating (?), explicit, verbal consent is not stated in two scenes but both parties are willing! Semi-public sex, overstimulation, slight thigh riding, marking, hair pulling (m. rec. lol), begging, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, cockwarming
notes: i don't even know what to say... there's really no reason for this to be so long, how did we get here. i hide my face in shame.
It all starts as an accident— a very inconvenient accident.
Really, it wasn’t your fault; how were you supposed to keep up with these endless assignments that only seemed to get worse as time went on? You had better things to do with your life— studying is way too much of a headache for you these days.
Instead, your days have been filled along the lines of parties and trips your friends hold, gaining connections with people that always help things go next level; Empty vacation homes, yachts, even a private jet once— you were lucky enough to land a friendship with these type of people, the thought of taking things slow and worrying more about your education not crossing your mind anymore once you got a taste of the fast life.
Which is exactly how you got where you are now.
“There goes your man,” Yunjin’s elbow is sharp against your side as she whispers teasingly, the jab only making your frown deepen as you weakly attempt to shake her off.
“Shut up.” That’s all you can manage as you go to lay your head down on the dining hall table, your appetite long gone as your head swims and your stomach twists with nausea; her single jab is enough to remind your body of its terrible shape, your eyes shutting tightly as you fight through the urge to hurl then and there.
You’re not even sure of what she might mean— you don’t remember telling her about any recent hookups— hell, you don’t even remember gawking at anyone in your vicinity; so for her to be teasing you about this “man” of yours was strange, a pout forming on your lips as you try to focus on the cool feeling of the wood beneath your skin.
“I gotta go,” Yunjin says abruptly, your eyes opening to send her a confused look. All she can do is give you an eager smile, patting your head as she grabs her now empty coffee cup from the table. “Your man is coming this way.”
Before you can ask her what man she could possibly be talking about, she’s off, not bothering to look back as she sends you a little wave over her shoulder, perfectly manicured nails glittering under the sunlight that shines through the windows.
The seat in front of yours is quickly filled.
“You weren’t at our study session yesterday.”
Jesus.
There’s not much you can say to that, clearly guilty as you choose to press your forehead against the cool table in response. Maybe, if you close your eyes, he’ll disappear— if only it were that easy. But instead, you’re stuck with Choi Beomgyu and the warm scent of coffee that follows him— god knows how many cups he drank as a substitution for sleep. Your lashes flutter against the table as you attempt to drown out his whines, surprised that he hasn't taken your unresponsiveness as a hint to go away.
“Have you ever gone to Paris?” You ask, the sentence flying from your mouth and interrupting his rambles. It’s enough to shut him up, sitting up as you plant your hands firmly on the table in a weak attempt to not lay your head back down.
“No, I haven’t.”
His response is typical— you didn’t care whether or not he would say yes, leaning into the table as you stare into his eyes; it’s clear he’s flustered by the action, leaning back in reciprocation as his pupils land everywhere but on you.
“If you had the chance to go to Paris right now, would you?” It takes a moment before Beomgyu nods his head hesitantly, mouth opening as he prepares a new line of questioning for you. But you’re quick to cut him off again, clapping your hands in satisfaction as you stand up— his eyes follow your every movement, face resembling a lost puppy as he watches the way you get ready to leave.
“Exactly; Paris really is beautiful by the way, definitely recommend going. So you can’t blame me for ditching our study session yesterday, can you?” Tilting your head, you watch the puzzles connect in his mind. “We can always make it up or whatever, not that big of a deal.”
Turning around, you don’t bother saying goodbye to Beomgyu; your only thoughts center on your beautiful, comfy bed and how you’ll spend the rest of your day in it. You can hear him calling out to you, the sound of a chair scraping against tile catching your attention as you force yourself to walk faster.
“We have class in fifteen minutes— where are you going?!”
He’s gaining up on you. You don’t care if you have to sprint out of the building, but the last thing you’ll do is get stuck in another of Beomgyu’s self-righteous rambles as you curse wildly under your breath.
“Home— I’m sick!”
Carelessly, the exit door is slammed on Beomgyu’s face— by accident, of course. Glancing back, you’re able to catch a glimpse of his pathetic puppy face, clearly discouraged from trying to continue chasing after you.
Normally, one would be compelled to feel guilty— but the day is simply too nice, the weather so perfect as a spring wind brushes past your skin; the sun that slightly worsens your headache truly doesn’t seem that bad anymore.
A perfect day to drive around and shop, in your humble opinion.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
This new purse would be divine in your collection.
The luxury bag in your hands is sleek and smooth as your fingertips glaze over the details, entranced by its chic beauty as you let your thoughts wander— formal events, birthday dinners, oh, the places you could take it…
The price tag is no joke— it has you counting numbers in your head, pondering just how much of your monthly allowance you have left; if you buy it now, you’ll have to say goodbye to the girls’ trip at Yunjin’s beach house in Cancun…
Treat yourself, a tiny voice whispers in your mind, you can always beg your parents for more money.
The devil on your shoulder is compelling— it warps your vision, a pout forming on your face as it practically forces your eyes to see the item in a heavenly light; the last item in that specific collection, and it’s right at your disposal, only a card swipe away…
“Pretty bag,” your little devil hums, “It would look nice with that little black dress you’re always looking for an excuse to wear.”
His hand is delicate and teasing on your shoulder, his hold on you tight as he pulls you into him protectively. You’re not as surprised as you should be as you look up at Hueningkai, pouting face innocently looking up at him as you shake your head in distress.
“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to go with Yunjin to Cancun during spring break,” you whine, petulant as always as you refuse his reasoning— yet also refuse to let go of the bag and walk away.
Anyone who knows you knows how you get about accessories— how obsessive you become with collecting them, your closet always filled to the brim as your need to buy becomes a borderline addiction.
Maybe that’s why Hueningkai finds your dilemma so amusing, deft fingers snatching the purse from your hands and walking away wordlessly, leaving you to trot behind him as you continue to rant and stall, lingering by his side as a new item catches your eye; you inspect it curiously while the words uncontrollably fly out of your mouth.
“I mean it’s not like I don’t have enough money, cause I could always ask my parents for more— and they’d gladly give it to me— but I always feel so horrible to ask for more, especially now that I’m supposed to be getting more independent, even though they always talk about spoiling me because I’m their only daughter, but still, I really want it but if I buy it I’ll have to ask them for more money, and it’s not even a big deal but it feels—“
“Oh my god, okay!” It seems you were too distracted by the tweed Chanel bag in your hands to anticipate the shopping bag that Hueningkai thrusts into your hands, exasperated at your ramblings as he swiftly manages to shut you up.
You’re left speechless, sorting through the filling paper dumbly as you’re greeted with the same bag that Hueningkai snatched from you— your sparkly eyes look up at him in awe, unsure of what to say as he simply smiles at your reaction.
“Huening…” you pout, clutching the bag to your chest with one hand as you slap his chest with the other— his very firm, strong chest… “you shouldn’t have.”
He’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you into him and guiding you out of the store as he leans into you; you can smell his cologne so perfectly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers softly into it.
“It’s okay,” he smiles, endeared by the way your eyes shine with anticipation to his words, “I know of a few ways you can make it up to me.”
There’s no need to call your driver— Hueningkai knows the way to your apartment like the back of his hand, one relaxed at the steering wheel while the other plays with the hem of those skirts you always like to wear.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
“You’re such a tease,” Hueningkai’s lips are plump and bitten at as you smile against them, his hands never straying from your ass as he grasps at it, enjoying the way you grind against him expertly.
“Just wanna make you feel good,” you pant, the warm feeling of his hands on your tight-clad thighs making you whine, your pussy slotted perfectly against him as you feel the way he grows harder underneath you.
“You’re always so good to me…” you trail off the moment his lips begin to wander down your neck, attempting to pull off your thin sweater as his hands immediately find themselves on your breasts. He can only let out a breathy laugh at your words, his teeth sinking in the plump flesh softly before his fingers are working your bra off.
“Always buying you your favorite things?” He rasps, groaning softly at the sight of your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as he looks up at you teasingly, “my princess will do anything for a pretty purse, hmm?”
Frantically, you nod, his hips bucking into you as you feel the way his cock presses against you effortlessly; he’s as eager as you are, warm tongue on your skin making your thoughts run wild as you imagine what it would feel like to have him pressed against your cunt, helpless to your needs as your fingers card through his hair.
“Come on pretty girl, show me how grateful you are,” your thoughts are immediately dispelled as Hueningkai pushes you off, a gentle hand pushing away your hair before he’s guiding you down to your knees; his favorite sight, your doe eyes fluttering at him innocently as your hands make quick work of his belt. He can’t help but groan at the sight before him, lip caught in his teeth as he silently wishes for you to hurry.
Hueningkai takes the belt from your hands, placing it to the side as he smiles down at you coyly— you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation, your mind going back to the many memories of your face pressed into the mattress as your bound hands desperately begged to touch him. Your fingers are delicate as they pull down his zipper— he’s become impatient, lips parting as he gets ready to make a witty comment.
His thoughts are interrupted by a persistent ringing of your doorbell.
He’s devastated as he flops back into your mattress— a loud groan escapes him, brows furrowing as he grows irritated at the ringing that echoes throughout your apartment.
“Jesus, what the fuck is their problem?” He complains, running a hand through his hair before he sits back up; he’s smiling fondly at you as he caresses your cheek, sighing softly as he nods his head towards the door, “go see who it is, won’t you princess? Make it quick.”
The look that you two share is nothing but mischievous, his lips connecting with yours in a chaste kiss as he helps you up; he’s tugging your sweater roughly over your chest, straightening your skirt before he’s sending you off— not without one last feel of you, the stinging sensation that lingers on your ass making you yelp as you send him a playful glare— he can only send you a sly look in return.
This better be important, you can’t help but think, sighing heavily as another three persistent rings of your doorbell echo throughout— you groan, rolling your eyes as you swing the door open wildly.
You can’t say you’re surprised as Beomgyu stares back at you in shock, his wide eyes blinking rapidly as he takes you in.
“What.” Your tone is unwelcoming as you lean against your doorframe, arms crossing to cover your chest as you raise a brow at him in anticipation— he stutters uselessly, pushing up his glasses as his eyes fly about your apartment wildly— refusing to look at you for more than a second.
“You didn’t answer my messages,” or calls, he whispers weakly, tugging at the hem of his sweater as he stares down at his dirtied shoes, his other arm hidden behind his back. He clears his throat, gulping as he looks into your eyes, pushing past the annoyed look that greets him as he continues, “You didn’t look well this morning, so I wanted to check up on you.”
You’re not sure what to say as Beomgyu whips out what was hidden behind his back—you’re leaning back as you stare at the cute, floral lunch bag that Beomgyu thrusts into your face, hesitantly taking it as you look back at Beomgyu in confusion; it feels warm in your arms.
“It’s soup.” He says, his ears reddening as he takes in the bewildered way you’re staring at him, “It’s my mom's recipe, it’s— it’s really good.”
“Yeah? We’ll be the judge of that,” Hueningkai has snuck up behind you as he wraps an arm around your waist, effectively pushing you back against him— you can feel how hard he is against the swell of your ass, eyes widening as you get what he’s hinting at, impatient fingers digging into your skin softly.
Beomgyu seems just as surprised as you are at Hueningkai’s appearance, if not more. It becomes your turn to become embarrassed as you look over your shoulder to meet Hueningkai’s smug smile, his eyes glistening with curiosity as he looks back at Beomgyu, tilting his head as he frowns.
“Who are you anyway?”
Beomgyu seems quite offended by his statement, looking at you in shock. You’re scrambling to cut Hueningkai off, letting out a soft laugh as you place a firm hand on his chest— the last thing you need is for Hueningkai to drive away one of the few people that would be willing to tutor you.
“He’s just helping me out in some classes, that’s all,” you say, placing the lunch bag in his hands before you’re shooing him away, “Put this on the kitchen counter— I’ll see you in a bit.”
Beomgyu doesn’t miss the look the two of you share— if anything, it makes his stomach twist in embarrassment, wanting to do nothing more than turn around and pretend as though he hadn’t interrupted you while you were— whatever it was. Hueningkai is cheery as he walks back into your apartment, not bothering to spare Beomgyu another glance as he disappears from your sight; your clearing throat is what gets Beomgyu’s mind back on track.
“Right. Well,” you say, smiling awkwardly as you reach out for the door, “I’m feeling better. Thanks though!”
Beomgyu is unable to get out another word as you’re closing the door on him, sneaking in a last comment as you cheerily yell “tell your mom I said thank you!” Uncaring of his reaction as the door shuts in his face; he suddenly thinks back to this morning, shuddering at the memory of him having to walk back to the other exit of the dining hall, towards the building his classes were in— your shared class, specifically— forced to ignore the strange looks everyone gave him as he stared straight at the ground.
“Isn’t he younger than us? Why was he talking to me like that,” he quietly pouts, his protests left unheard as he’s forced to walk back home, eyes glued to the sidewalk in dismay— the feeling is dreadfully familiar.
“Well that’s sad,” Hueningkai remarks, peeking through your blinds as he watches Beomgyu’s figure grow smaller, “Are you actually gonna eat that?”
His eyes flick back to the lunch bag that sits innocently at your counter—you simply shrug, feeling oddly protective of the item as you tuck it behind you, leaning against the counter as you sigh softly.
“His mom made it, I’d feel bad if I didn’t,” you say, biting at your lips as you watch the way Hueningkai laughs in disbelief. You feel a bit bad as you think back to the way you turned him away, his expression pitiful and sad as you slammed the door on his face for the second time today. Yet you don’t get much time to think about it as Hueningkai begins to approach you, hands effortlessly finding themselves on your waist as your head tilts to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss.
“Can’t believe he interrupted us for so long,” you feel him smile against your lips as he presses you back against the counter, ready to hike your skirt up as his other hand is eagerly wrapping your leg around his waist, “will you make it up to me?”
Beomgyu disappears from your mind like smoke— the smile against your lips is contagious, your hand gently pressing against his chest as you roll your hips teasingly into his, a broken moan falling from both your lips.
“Of course.“
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
The rest of the day is quite underwhelming.
You’ve been left with a good fuck and a nice purse, but as you lay in your bed, you can’t help but notice the way your headache never really left— it’s been nothing but a dull ache until now, the pain persistent and growing as you sigh in exasperation; none of your usual remedies have worked for you so far.
Your body feels hot and weak, yet you’re left shivering as the blankets keep endlessly stacking on top of you. Not even your weighted blanket can lull you to sleep, your figure restless as you toss and turn in your bed, your phone buried in your puzzle of fabric. You’re in nothing but pain— you hate feeling like this, and the sudden grumbling of your stomach truly isn’t helping either.
Left with no other options, you trudge to the kitchen, opening your fridge as you mentally brace yourself— it’s been a while since you’ve shopped for groceries; there’s not much in there that you could eat quickly, and you can’t find any energy within you to cook.
The cool fridge door is welcoming against your skin— yet it’s also bothersome as you begin to shiver at the cold, closing the fridge quickly as you frown to yourself; whatever your body has come down with, it sure is annoying. Taking a moment to think, you suddenly find your eyes gravitating to a certain item; ergo, the floral lunch bag that remains untouched on your counter.
It hasn’t been that long— an hour or two, at most. Whatever Beomgyu gave you couldn’t have spoiled by now, right?
It’s soup, you recall him saying, biting your lip as you take the lunch bag to your small table, my mom's recipe.
Unpacking the contents, you hum in surprise— yeah, this looks like a mothers cooking. The Tupperware he’s provided you with is filled to the brim with a nice broth that is still warm to the touch, a side of rice and vegetables also packed inside for you; you’re unable to stop a small awe from escaping you as you take out a small container of tea that has been stored inside for you as well, surprised at how much Beomgyu’s mother packed for you.
Does she think we’re friends? Is this her way of making me stick with him? You wonder, biting at your lip as you hold back a laugh at the thought— a poor momma’s boy, struggling to make friends as his mother attempts to subtly help him.
It’s no secret that Beomgyu was a bit of a loner— that’s why you reached out to him in the first place. You knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse you, because he couldn’t even give you the excuse that he had no time; that, and the hefty sum you gave him in exchange for tutoring someone as difficult as you.
To a degree, you were self-aware— but it only came after the fifth person rejected your offer, saying that you probably wouldn’t even commit once you started. No matter how pissed you were when you were first told that, you were unable to disagree; unfortunately, it also sparked a deep spiraling of self-reflection as your new self-awareness brought you to Beomgyu; by then you were so desperate and ashamed that Beomgyu probably only accepted because he felt bad.
Tutoring with Beomgyu had its benefits; he was nice, and quite the pushover as well. He never protested too much when you canceled on him, and the most you ever got from being annoying was a long scolding or an exasperated sigh from him— plus, now it seems that free food has been thrown into the mix.
Settling down at the table, you found yourself oddly restless as you went to fetch a small blanket from your bed— it was only then that you were able to find your phone, gasping as it landed roughly on the floor. Going back to the kitchen, you were now able to make yourself comfortable, sitting at your table as you took off the lids of everything that was packed for you— even the tea was still nice and warm in its thermos, everything packed with such care and attention to detail that you couldn’t help but take a picture of it.
It was delicious as well; the soup was comforting and not too overwhelming on your senses as you mixed in bites of the white rice, fluffy and cooked to perfection as you melted in your seat with every spoonful. The vegetables were steamed and well seasoned; you practically squealed from happiness as you ate, not used to having such a big meal cooked by someone else these days.
It filled you up quickly— the ginger tea was soothing against your throat, the taste of honey and lime mixed in leaving you warm and fuzzy as you tiredly trudged to bed; you’d have to beg Beomgyu to invite you to his mother’s house later.
Maybe it did work, you briefly think to yourself, your mind quickly emptying as you make yourself comfortable in your bed, that only made me want to talk to Beomgyu more— maybe it wouldn’t be too bad being his friend.
A soft laugh escapes you at the thought— your eyelids feel heavy as you struggle to stay awake, eager to sleep through this brief sickness that threatens to overtake you. After this, you’re sure it’ll be an easy recovery.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
You think you’re dying.
You’re hot and sweaty as you kick away your blankets for the umpteenth time, irritated as your body quickly begins to shiver instead. You’re only able to sleep for a few hours at a time, on the verge of tears as the clock on your bedside table reads nine pm— you’re unsure of what to do, already taking medication a few hours ago that seemed to do nothing. Your body is burning up as you toss and turn a bit more, dreading the new train of thought that enters your mind.
Maybe you should call someone.
Maybe they’ll know what to do, you think, holding back nausea that threatens to knock you out as you slowly sit up; scrolling through your contacts, you hesitantly press call to the first person you could think of.
It rings once— then again, then a few times more before it goes straight to voicemail.
“Hey, you’ve reached Yunjin’s voicemail. Please leave a messa—“ you sigh as you hang up, attempting to call a few times more before you give up entirely.
She’s probably at a party. Or with some boy.
Scrolling through your contacts, you choose your next person carefully— you’re sure they’re not busy right now, they’ve never been one to go to parties as often—
Ning Ning’s phone goes straight to voicemail as well.
Groaning, you lay back as you feel your head pounding, your mind racing as you attempt to go through a mental checklist of who you could call— but all you can conclude is that they’re busy, wouldn’t want to help, or you’re simply not that close to them.
“What the hell,” you mumble, pressing your face against your pillow as you sniffle softly— your headache has become unbearable, and you’ve always been a big crybaby whenever you got sick.
“Do I not have any friends?” You ponder, your stomach sinking at the thought— there’s no way! If anything, your phone was always on silent from the number of notifications you got in a day; you always knew at least ten people when you walked in a room, the elite definition of a social butterfly— the last thing you would consider yourself is friendless.
Maybe it’s just an unlucky time, you think, playing Russian roulette with your contacts as your finger presses on a random one; Hueningkai <;3 glares back at you in bright letters, your eyes narrowing as you consider calling— he’s always been one to spoil you, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched for him to help you this once, right?
You’re nervous as the phone rings out into your room, your fingers tapping on your bed impatiently as you wait for him to pick up— just when you think he won’t, his voice greets your ears like a miracle.
“Hey baby, what’s up?” His voice is a bit rough as he speaks, his speech slow and relaxed as your eyes narrow at the sound; he’s probably high again.
“Hueningkai,” you cry out softly, unable to help the way you become emotional in your state— your voice is muffled, your face buried in your pillow as the pain becomes far too overwhelming.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice has become more alert at the sound of your sniffling, the sounds of rustling from his side making you wince, your hand going to lower the volume of your phone.
“Dunno. I’m sick,” you say, flipping over onto your back as you stare up at the ceiling— you feel tired, yet you’re unable to get comfortable enough to sleep. You hear more rustling on the other side of the phone— Hueningkai sighs, mumbling something to himself before he clears his throat.
“Why don’t you go to the doctor, hmm?” You frown at his words, shaking your head at the thought— you weren’t really expecting this outcome.
“I— I can’t really get up, I feel dizzy…” you confess sheepishly, the realization that you truly don’t have enough energy to even stand for too long weighing down on you, “I was wondering if you could come over?”
“Come over?” Hueningkai echoes, humming softly at the thought— it’s silent, the tension leaving you biting at your lips as you wait for him to respond.
“Listen, uhm,” you sigh softly at his words, closing your eyes as you attempt to ignore the way your stomach dips with disappointment, “I’m kinda busy right now. But if you want, you can call me tomorrow and I can take you to the doctor, ‘kay?”
Attempting to swallow down your disappointment, you nod, a moment of silence passing before you realize that he can’t even see you.
“Yeah. Okay.” There’s a lump in your throat as you speak, and you can’t help but feel the way your body heats up as the line falls silent; from embarrassment, this time. It’s awkward, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Hueningkai mumbles a soft “okay then. Goodnight,” the sound of him hanging up the last thing you hear before you’re shrouded in complete silence, the darkness of your room threatening to swallow you whole.
The sound of your stomach growling angrily is the only thing that breaks the silence.
A frustrated groan tears through you— you’re oddly emotional as you force yourself to sit up, pausing as you attempt to maintain balance; your head is spinning, and you’re beginning to realize how long it’s been since you last ate. The floor is cold under your feet as you trudge to the kitchen; you can’t bring yourself to turn on the lights, your slippers lost somewhere in your room as you feel a shiver wrack through your body.
What will you do? Your fridge is practically empty and takeout doesn’t sound too appealing to you; you can feel tears well up in your eyes once more, a pout forming on your face as you slump down on a chair in defeat. Sighing, you think back to earlier— the homemade food Beomgyu brought to you, so soothing and filling it almost reminded you of the meals your cook back at home would make for you— maybe you could call your driver to take you home for a bit.
It’s hours away and he’s probably off right now, you frown, checking the time on your phone just in case— 9:45— yeah, he’s definitely home by now. Of course, nothing is stopping you from calling him and telling him it’s an emergency, but then you’d feel far too guilty about ripping him away from his family just for you.
He spends enough time at our home as it is, you think, placing your phone on the table as you go to massage your temples weakly. You need to eat something— maybe you’ll get some energy from it. But, picky as always, you can’t seem to find anything that sounds appealing to you; even the restaurant you frequently eat at doesn't seem to be doing anything for you, your mind inevitably going back to the one thing you were avoiding.
Hesitantly, you pick up your phone— you can’t believe you’re actually going to try this, you think, biting at your lip before you finally press call; then again, this isn’t entirely out of character for you.
A lonely college student that doesn’t have many friends— if anything, he’s probably up studying right now, you think, frowning as you press your phone firmly to your ear, and if he was willing to check up on me, he should be willing to do this small thing for me too.
“Hello?” The relief that floods through you is surprising; you’re becoming lax against your seat as the sound of Beomgyu’s uncertain voice meets your ears— his voice is gruff and soft as he speaks, unsure of whether or not you called him on purpose.
“Choi Beomgyu,” you whine, already feeling yourself becoming unnecessarily emotional as you allow yourself to rant to him, “I’m sick. Can you do me a small favor?”
On his end, Beomgyu is oddly surprised— why would you go to him of all people? He’s a bit weary as he listens to you carefully, thinking back to the way you were able to shut him out effortlessly; if anything, he must’ve been your last resort.
“What is it?”
You’re unable to hold back the sigh of relief that escapes you— a smile graces your lips, and for the first time during this miserable experience, you don’t feel helpless.
“Okay, hear me out please,” you start, sitting up as you clear your throat; unbeknownst to Beomgyu, you’re about to begin one of your infamous ramblings.
“I know you might be busy studying or whatever, but I promise I’ll be quick. So, you remember the food you gave me earlier? I actually ate it, and it was really good! Your mom is a good cook, but then again, I’m pretty sure all moms are pretty good cooks. But like, I’m gonna be honest with you, I forgot to get groceries earlier this week, so I don’t really have much to eat— I could go order takeout or something but the thought of eating something greasy right now makes me wanna puke. I was thinking that since you probably don’t go out that much your mom might have given you extra servings of that soup, and I know it sounds really entitled and a bit bitchy but do you think you could please please please drop some off?
“I promise I’ll pay you whatever and you seriously only need to drop it off at my door, it’s just that her cooking was really good and I almost started crying when I ate it— I get really emotional when I’m sick so I also think it’d be best for you to leave as quickly as you can; please please please please I promise I won’t ditch our study sessions for a good week at least, I’ll be good and study! I just think I’m gonna pass out right now and your mom’s food is the only thing I can think of right now… please?”
You feel out of breath as you finally finish your seemingly endless ramble— on the other side of the line, Beomgyu lets out an exasperated laugh.
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be there.” You’re not sure when you began to get emotional over nothing, but you’re surprised to feel hot tears streaming down your face at Beomgyu’s words, a few hiccups escaping you as you let out a soft really? “Yeah, I’ll just leave it at your doorstep.”
Standing up, you stumble a bit as you wipe your tears away. If you hadn’t scared Beomgyu away before, you surely did now.
“Drop it off inside. My door’s gonna be unlocked.”
There’s an odd pause after you say that; you’re about to question what happened before you hear rustling on his side of the phone, Beomgyu’s soft hum the last thing you hear before he lets out a soft “okay. I’ll be there.” You’re unable to thank him as he’s quick to hang up— and the exhaustion that has been building up inside you all day is suddenly released, the promise of food making your brain at ease as you slowly make your way over to the couch.
You’re so tired— a small nap wouldn’t hurt, right? It would be nice to wake up to the sight of food at my doorstep, you think, a small smile easing onto your face as you find yourself curling up at the end of your couch; oh, you really can’t help yourself— your eyelids are becoming excruciatingly heavy.
For the umpteenth time today, you allow yourself to sleep— even if it’ll only last twenty minutes at most.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Beomgyu is a little off-put as he peeks inside your apartment.
He feels odd, extremely guilty, and a bit shameful as he pops his head inside, all of his calls have gone to voicemail as he chose the next best option— you did say your door was unlocked, after all.
He expected you to be scolding him for taking so long after forty minutes had passed, but he found himself pleasantly surprised (and somewhat worried) when his phone remained entirely unbothered; so now here he stands, multiple heavy bags filled with ingredients in his hands as he kicks off his shoes clumsily.
He finds you fast asleep on the couch; he’s extremely concerned at how trusting you are, but he decides to chalk it up to the fact that your skin is burning hot to the touch and you’re probably not thinking straight— Beomgyu is quick to pull his palm away from your forehead the moment you stir even slightly, jolting into action as he flees into your kitchen instead.
Placing the bags on your table, he looks back at you in worry— all he can do for now is wet a few paper towels, wringing out as much water as he can before he’s making his way to you cautiously; you’re burning up and sweaty as he dabs the towel on your skin, tutting softly as he finally places the towel on your forehead.
“I knew you weren’t feeling well,” he scolds you softly, pulling the blanket that has fallen off your shoulders back on you carefully before he’s pulling away, rolling his eyes at the sight, “you’re lucky you practically pay my bills.”
Quietly, Beomgyu gets to work— he feels a bit bad for rummaging through your kitchen so boldly, but he’s sure you wouldn’t really mind if you woke up; you’re the one who invited him in the first place.
At some point, Beomgyu finds himself quite comfortable in your kitchen— it’s quite spacious and allows him to get lost deep in his thoughts; he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s unable to pick up on the fact that you’re wide awake and slowly trudging your way to him.
“Choi Beomgyu,” the sound of your voice is enough for him to practically jump out of his skin, narrowly missing his finger as he hurriedly drops the knife in his hands, spinning around wildly as he presses himself tightly against the counter— your tired and puffy face is eerily close to his as your lidded eyes stare up at him, still heavy with sleep as you frown softly.
“What,” you mumble softly, taking in his flustered expression before your eyes are wandering to the mess behind him— the cutting board of vegetables, the stovetop that is busy with two pots simmering away, a familiar aroma filling your apartment; your eyes flick back to the way he seems both guilty and embarrassed, your head tilting as he watches you slowly piece everything together, “what is all this? Where’s your mom's food?”
Well, maybe not.
Beomgyu sighs— the sight of him shaking his head in dismay is enough to have your eyes widening with surprise, watching as he slowly turns his back to you; the constant rhythm of him cutting vegetables is the only sound that fills the room, and it seems that Beomgyu won’t be answering your question any time soon; you’re ready to protest and annoy him until he talks, but it seems he’s quick to beat you to it.
“My mom wasn’t the one who made it,” he sighs, putting his knife down as he quickly goes to the pot of soup to give it a mix; your eyes are fluttering shut at the smell, a small smile gracing your lips as you fight the urge to have a taste then and there; but you’re snapped back to reality from his words, stammering as you look at him in confusion.
“But— you said it was—“
“My mother's recipe,” he draws out, dropping the seasoned vegetables into a third pot as you watch them get steamed, “I’m the one who made the food.”
You think back to the floral lunch bag he handed to you hours earlier; how he seemed so hesitant to give it to you, oddly pouty as he watched the way you were quick to hand it to someone else— you feel yourself become embarrassed by your behavior, oddly defensive as you remember how much you begged for him to give you another taste.
“Oh. Okay,” you say, clearing your throat as you slump back down on a chair— you found it entirely too exhausting to be standing for that long, “it was the next best thing for me anyway— my driver is off right now so I have no one to take me anywhere.”
“I see you’re feeling better,” Beomgyu mumbles, rolling his eyes at your actions as your usual bratty self resurfaces; he almost found your delirious, emotional self from earlier more welcoming than this, forced to listen to more of your ramblings as you watch him cook.
“No. Not at all actually,” you complain, the ache in your body suddenly much more noticeable than it was a few minutes ago as you cross your legs on the chair; you’re huddled up in your blanket again, staring at his back as you practically take out your pain on him, “my head feels like its gonna explode— my body’s so fucking hot but I can’t take this blanket off or else I’ll feel like I’m freezing my ass off. I don’t know what to do because I never get sick like this; if anything, I should’ve called our family doctor instead of you.”
You feel a bit bad as the words come out sharper than you intended— Beomgyu is easy to read as he flinches at your statement, head ducked down and an awkward silence permeating the room as he says nothing in response.
“…you’re lucky your mom taught you how to cook,” you backtrack, your voice oddly soft as you press your lips together; you refuse to say anything more as you curl up tightly on the chair, laying your head down on the table as you attempt to let your blanket shield you from the world— you’re back to your unpredictable, emotional self as you feel a lump forming in your throat, a feeling of longing forming inside you as you wish you were home instead of here, pestering your poor tutor in exchange for a hefty sum of money.
“Hey,” his voice is much closer than you expected it to be as you peek up from your small fortress, raising a brow as you stare at the glass of water and pills in his hand, “take this. I’m guessing you haven’t taken any medication for your fever in a while.”
A soft ‘hmph’ is all that leaves you as you reluctantly accept the medicine (because the truth was that he was right). It isn’t until he shows you what he’s giving you as you take the pills begrudgingly; you hate that he can see through you so easily. Chugging down the glass of water, you fail to notice how he waits beside you patiently, sending him a petulant look as you wait for him to say something— instead, he raises a small thermometer to your forehead, taking your temperature as he lets out a soft tsk.
“Your temperature is way too high. Eat, then go back to sleep,” he says, only leaving your side to get you a proper serving of soup; it’s the same meal you had earlier, but you’re oddly excited as you notice the hefty amount of rice he gave you, a new side of him peeking through as he watches you carefully— it’s only when you send him a questioning look that he becomes red in the face, clearing his throat awkwardly as he points back to the mess behind him.
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it,” he mumbles, not bothering to look you in the eyes as he quietly begins to take care of the dishes.
“I wasn’t going to,” you remark, your mouth still full of rice as you scoff softly at his excuse— you find yourself oddly annoyed with him as you take in just how much he’s doing for you, unable to fathom anyone else doing all this for you, unprovoked.
He must really need the money, you reason with yourself, unsure of why else he would do such a thing— you roll your eyes at the thought, any intimacy that might have come from all this dissolving into thin air as you become oddly irritated with him.
But you will admit, this soup really hits the spot.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
You’re out like a light moments after.
If Beomgyu said he was surprised, it would definitely be a lie; you were barely awake on your couch for more than five minutes, and by the time Beomgyu finishes cleaning up and putting away the leftover ingredients in your fridge (which was criminally empty for someone who had so much money) you’re already curled back up in your corner of the couch, your temperature only having gone down slightly as you begin to toss and turn in your sleep.
The wet paper towels that Beomgyu had placed on you earlier are folded neatly on your coffee table— Beomgyu huffs softly as he discards it, wetting some more before he’s placing it carefully on your forehead; he’s unsure of what else to do now, standing back awkwardly as he considers staying to watch over you— your condition seemed pretty serious from how high your temperature was, and it certainly didn’t help that you straight up rammed into the kitchen table and injured your shin from how unstable you were.
And that’s when you became a crybaby once more.
He can still see the lingering tears that cling to your lashes, a soft pout forming on your lips as you shiver slightly at the touch of the cool towel. What to do, he ponders, sitting on the couch opposite to you as he watches over you carefully, he’s not sure if there’s anyone else that could take care of you.
Hell, the fact that he’s here of all people is enough to prove that to him; but also, he should really be studying for that upcoming physics exam that has been concerning him a bit. He glances back at you— calm, undisturbed, only shifting every once in a while as you tuck yourself deeper into the blanket you wrapped tightly around yourself— and he sighs, finding himself oddly torn as he wonders whether he should leave you or not.
He could go back home and study, but he knows that he wouldn’t get very far, thoughts of you and your condition plaguing his mind as he desperately tried to focus. His thoughts are disrupted as you groan softly in discomfort, shifting restlessly on the couch before your eyes are fluttering open, locking with his instantly.
“You’re still here,” you murmur, squinting at him as you cough softly, “thought you’d be gone by now.”
Beomgyu doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him; it’s oddly condescending as he finds himself standing up instantly, clearing his throat as he looks away from you and your searing gaze.
“Yeah,” he says, feeling strangely flustered as he makes his way to the front door; your eyes follow him the whole way there, and he feels so small under your gaze as he goes to slip his coat on. “I was just leaving.”
“Oh. ‘kay,” you shrug, shifting restlessly on the couch before you’re turning your back to him, curled into a ball as you wave at him weakly, “I’ll Venmo you later.”
He can’t help but feel bristled at your careless attitude, still not used to the way you’re always ready to spend money at the drop of a hat despite tutoring you for weeks now. Tying his shoes, he can’t help but glance at you one last time; it pains him to admit he’s slightly worried for you, but the rational part of him tells him it’s just because he doesn’t want you calling him to come back the moment you’re feeling nauseous again.
Yet you remain still, resembling a rock as your figure is hidden under countless piles of blankets— judging by the steady rise and fall of it, he figures you already fell back asleep.
It takes Beomgyu an embarrassingly long time to leave— but only because he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t wake up spontaneously and start whining, of course— you remain dead to the world the whole time he watches over you.
By the time Beomgyu finally makes it out of your doorway, he feels more frustrated than anything. Because even once he gets home to study, he can’t help but keep his phone close-by, worried that you’ll call out of the blue asking for help.
His phone remains silent all night.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
The next time Beomgyu sees you, he’s reminded as to why you had so many difficulties getting a tutor.
You’re flashy and perfect as always as you stand in the doorway of his apartment, arms crossed and eyes no-doubt narrowed behind your expensive designer shades. Your foot is tapping impatiently at the concrete outside as you tilt your head in annoyance— Beomgyu had made the mistake to ignore the first few rings of his doorbell, much too distracted by his game to remember that it would be you waiting for him.
“So? You gonna let me in, or do you need to tidy up first?” Beeomgyu’s mantra consists of how short your lesson will be today and the paycheck he’ll get out of it— one of the perks of you being desperate was that Beomgyu got to raise his rates shamelessly— and it takes Beomgyu a second to push past your intimidating and prickly demeanor to nod his head and step aside, watching as you push your shades up and secure them on your head.
It takes you a second to slip out of your shoes as you daintily put them aside, and Beomgyu can feel his ears become hot as he watches the way you wince slightly at the pair of guest slippers he hands you— though he tries to tell himself you don’t mean to be like this, a soothing lie that lets him lead you to his living room as he ignores his insecurity.
“Wait, can’t we just go to your room? I don’t feel like studying on the couch right now,” the yawn that rips through you is uncontrollable as you face away and cover your mouth politely— Beomgyu tries to not let his jaw drop to the floor in response. For someone who had never been to his apartment, you sure were demanding. He shouldn’t feel too surprised though, given how blunt you’ve proved to be the entire time he’s known you.
He’s unable to say no as he gathers the textbook and notebooks on the table and leads the way; he can feel his heart pounding against his chest in fear that you’ll judge him, heart pounding slightly as he goes to lead you to where his room is. (He just hopes you’ll judge him internally, at the very least.)
Meanwhile, you’ve been biting back a smile this whole time; you know you’ve been quite bitchy to him this whole time, but you’d like to think it’s karma for making you study first thing at nine in the morning— his excuse had been the long shift he’d have to cover straight after the tutoring session.
You’re quite surprised at the size and state of his apartment, expecting something much… cheaper, as you kept in mind how quick Beomgyu was to do something whenever you offered him money. Yet as you walk to his room, you’re left quiet as you take in the way everything in his home practically shines; his coffee table, the couch that lacks any crumbs or trash, and his carpet that seems to be recently vacuumed.
You find yourself so caught up in the appearance of his apartment that you fail to notice another presence in the living room; specifically, one that lets out a loud chirp, your body jumping back from the startle and eyes growing wide as you search for the source of the sound— your eyes land on a cage tucked in the corner of the room, a bright green bird with big eyes staring at you curiously from within.
“What the fuck is that?” you say softly— much louder than you intended, really— and Beomgyu is turning back around to see what you’re talking about, eyes widening as he realizes you’re currently staring down his bird with a slight wonder.
“Oh— that’s Toto,” Beomgyu says, rushing to put everything in his arms down and scurrying after when he notices you beginning to get closer; he’s hovering over you, taking in your expression of curiosity carefully before he continues. “He’s my parrot.”
You let out a soft oh. You seem rooted to your spot as you watch the bird continue to climb around the cage, clearly much more active now that Beomgyu is nearby; the said man notes your obvious curiosity, and before he can stop and have any second thoughts, he’s reaching over you to open the cage.
“Wait wait, what’re you—” a yelp escapes you and you’re jumping back the moment Beomgyu is reaching inside, hiding behind him and peeking over his shoulder to watch the way he extends a finger out to the bird— Toto— your mouth falling open dumbly as you take in the way the bird immediately climbs onto his hand.
Beomgyu is careful to take him out; you’re still peeking from behind him as you stare down his bird with wide eyes, body tensed as though it could fly away any given moment— you’re flinching in surprise when he’s turning to face you, hands coming up in defense as the bright green bird swings along, not a thought in its beady eyes as it’s suddenly thrust into your face— you step back again, the movement sudden and startling the bird as its wings flap slightly, which in turn startles you again— Beomgyu merely watches in amusement, and he tries his best to contain his laugh in fear of facing your prickly attitude.
“What the hell,” you breathe out softly, brows twitching and knitting together as you stare at Toto as though it were a foreign creature you’ve never seen, “It’s so… weird looking.”
Beomgyu can only gawk at your comment.
“He’s— he’s not,” is all Beomgyu can say in rebuttal, offended as he looks over at Toto, examining him in reassurance before he pulls his pet closer to his chest.
“He’s a handsome little bird,” Beomgyu mutters, and you’re sure you definitely weren’t supposed to hear that, watching in amazement as Beomgyu strokes Toto’s head fondly, the said bird bowing its head so he can get better access, “you’re such a cool guy, don’t listen to her Toto.”
Glancing back at you, Beomgyu seems to realize what he’s just said, and blushes a soft pink— though you’re not sure why he’s acting so shy, you’ve literally been standing there the whole time— and he clears his throat awkwardly, casting his gaze back to his pet and running his finger along the bird gently before he’s speaking again.
“Do you wanna hold him?”
“I— what?!” you say indignantly, eyes growing the size of saucers as you stare at him, acting as though he’s just told you something extremely offensive, “I don’t want that thing near me, what if it— it…”
You’re trailing off slowly— Beomgyu looks absolutely dejected. You can tell he’s trying not to show his hurt, avoiding your gaze and staring down at Toto instead, but he simply reminds you too much of a kicked puppy to let you continue your baffled ramblings; a moment passes where the two of you don’t say anything, but you finally break the second Beomgyu looks like he’s about to put Toto back in.
“Fine.”
He looks back at you immediately; his eyes look like they’ve been filled with stars.
“Give— give me the bird,” you mumble offhandedly, outstretching your hand awkwardly and finding yourself unable to look at him for once; you can feel the heat of embarrassment threatening to creep onto your skin, but you will it away and bite your cheek as you wait for Beomgyu to do something.
After a second, you feel it; the pressure on your finger, the weird texture and the claws that dig into your skin as the bird’s little feet wrap around you, unable to contain the way you shudder at the feeling; your arm has gone rigid and you’re reluctant to look at the pet that is now perched on your hand, afraid that it might attack you or something— but after a deep breath and some mental encouragement, you do it anyway.
This thing is so fucking creepy, you find yourself thinking, face screwing into one of disdain as you take in the way it simply remains still, freaking you out even further when it suddenly tilts its head in curiosity.
It begins to climb up your arm.
“What the fuck, what the fuck,” you breathe out in a panic, extending your arm away from you as steadily and quickly as you can, the thing now perched on your forearm as you bite back a squeal of fear— you’re looking over at Beomgyu in a haste, expression blatantly screaming help me!— and he quickly springs into action the moment your eyes meet.
“Toto,” Beomgyu coos, clicking his tongue and reaching out to place his hand at Toto’s feet; but the bird only continues to climb up and runs away from Beomgyu, a long, slightly terrified, groan leaving your lips as you can only watch it in horror, much too afraid to jerk your arm and send Toto flying; the moment it’s talons find its way onto your shoulder, you find yourself looking away and praying.
“Toto,” Beomgyu tries again, a little stressed now as he watches his bird perch peacefully on your shoulder— you, on the other hand, are in utter distress, shoulders tense and eyes screwed shut as you mentally pray for the thing to not peck at you— you think you’ve started to hold your breath now.
Through your eyes that peek slightly in fear, you’re able to see Beomgyu reach down at the storage unit beneath the cage and grab something; Toto seems to shift on your shoulder from the sight, and you grow tense as you wonder what the hell the man could be up to— with another call of Toto’s name, the bird finally jumps off your shoulder and over to Beomgyu.
Your body practically slumps in relief.
Beomgyu is back to holding Toto in his hand; your brows furrow at the sight of it eating something strange, your obvious confusion making Beomgyu smile slightly.
“It’s millet,” he explains, slowly moving to put Toto back in the cage before he places the said millet inside as well; with one last gentle scratch at Toto’s head, Beomgyu closes the cage. “It’s like a treat for him.”
“Whatever,” you say dismissively, glancing at Toto one last time before you shudder and turn away, “I don’t wanna see him again.”
Beomgyu isn’t too offended by your comment; if anything, he smiles in amusement, muttering softly that Toto seems to like you— you make a point to blatantly ignore his comment.
Any confidence Beomgyu had built up from before disappears the moment you finally arrive before the door that leads to the room; he’s found himself nervous once more, shifting the materials in his arms and reach out to open his door cautiously; he hopes you didn’t take notice of the way his hand shook slightly.
His room is no different than the rest of the apartment as you stand in the doorway, curiously surveying it all; your brow raises in amusement as you take in the way his personality is scattered throughout the small room. His bed is neatly made and the sheets are pressed to perfection, and the nightstand contains a stack of books that are both thick and annotated.
In front of you, you watch Beomgyu awkwardly place the books in his arms down on the bed, pushing up his glasses as you allow your eyes to continue drifting around— they instantly land on the desk setup in the corner of the room, your eyes widening as you’re able to recognize how expensive the setup is; two monitors display a random game you seem to recognize, and you let your curiosity get the best of you as you approach it slowly.
The keyboard is lighting up before you and a headset is hung on one of the monitors, and you let out a soft tsk as you take in the empty coffee cups beside the mouse, the only messy thing about his whole room; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s spilled the liquid over the setup before.
What surprised you the most however, are the countless picture frames and cute figurines that are scattered all over the room— a lucky cat is perched right at his windowsill, waving at you repeatedly as you’re unable to hold back your laugh of bewilderment; everything seems to be dusted and well taken care of, you’re surprised Beomgyu can ever find the energy to do such things.
“You play League of Legends?” Is all you say, turning around as you meet Beomgyu’s flustered face; Beomgyu had been on the verge of melting into a puddle of embarrassment the entire time you looked around his room, unsure of what to say or do the moment you approached his gaming setup. He was sure you’d make fun of him, but instead he’s pleasantly surprised as he silently hopes his face isn’t a raging red at the moment. (It definitely is, but you’re kind enough to give him a break and not tease him about it.)
“Oh— yeah. You play?” It’s oddly adorable to watch the way his eyes light up and his whole body perks up excitedly, but you find it even more adorable to watch the way he deflates as you bark out a laugh of surprise, your whole face lighting up as you cover your mouth in apology, feeling a slight pity for managing to make him look like a kicked puppy again.
“Fuck no!” You say in amusement, unable to imagine yourself doing such a thing, “Huening used to be obsessed with it though.”
You roll your eyes at the memory, recalling all the nights back in high school where he’d leave you alone in his bed, staying up late gaming with his friends while you hid in his room during social gatherings— but now he “outgrew that childish game,” according to him. If anything, you think he outgrew gaming all together, especially after you expressed how ridiculous the whole thing seemed to you.
“Huening, the guy from your apartment?” Beomgyu says meekly, eyes downcast as he flips through his notes mindlessly; you scoff, flopping on the bed next to him as you cross your legs daintily.
“Yeah, the guy from my apartment,” you say, leaning in to try and catch his gaze, “what, you jealous?”
Your comment is enough to have Beomgyu a sputtering mess; you don’t think he could get any redder than he is now as he shoves his notebook into your lap, clearing his throat weakly as he scoots away from you, leaving an offending amount of space as he squeaks out a defensive no.
“Wouldn’t blame you if you were,” you tease, staring down at the notes as you try to decipher what the hell it could all mean— it’s embarrassing when you’re left on your own for a good minute, unable to say anything about the material before Beomgyu is finally jumping to your aide and explaining things to you; slowly, you settle down and allow him to begin the session.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
You’d like to pat yourself on the back for lasting so long. Lasting so long without being difficult, that is, because the hour of peace Beomgyu got was short lived before you became a short-tempered brat before him—the only thing that surprises him at this point is the confidence you get to be like this all the time.
“I seriously don’t get this stuff,” you whine, kicking Beomgyu softly as you hold back a smile— it was clearly done to tease him— laying back on his bed as you cross your arms childishly, “I think I should just change my major.”
Beomgyu isn’t surprised that you find that so easy to say— for a moment, he dreams of being able to do the same when times get tough, but he was quick to come back to reality as he watched you kick at him petulantly; you managed to lay on his bed and make yourself comfortable, splayed over his pillows as you continued to mess around with him.
“Can’t we take a break? I’ve been good,” you pout, tapping your fingers on your bicep as you look at him sweetly— Beomgyu has to look away in order to say no, tapping his pencil on his notebook as he quietly prays for you to settle down and focus again.
“Come on, you’re lucky I showed up in the first place,” Beomgyu’s gaze is glued to his notebook as you roughly sit up, your denim shorts riding up your thighs as you kneel close to him; taking a deep breath to calm himself proves to be a mistake as he gets a good smell of your expensive perfume, biting his lip as he watches you try to get his attention by getting closer to him.
“You only showed up because I did you a favor,” it’s odd that you find the way his voice trembles and his ears turn red adorable, but then again, you’d be a little sad if a man didn’t react that way to you.
You have him wrapped around your finger— it’s a fact that dawns on you as you watch the way he doesn’t shut you down and forces you to study. Scooting closer to him, you lean down, pressing your cheek against his bicep as you stare down at the countless notes that lay before him.
“Well, that and because you’re kinda cute,” you admit, holding back a smile at the way he flinches at the sudden contact, “But seriously, I’m so bored.”
Beomgyu thinks you might have gone insane as he watches the way you take the materials in his lap away from him, setting it to the side before you’re stringing yourself across his lap, stretching cutely as you stare up at him with wide doe eyes— he’s quickly looking back up as he fails to find the strength to push you off.
“I can’t believe I actually came here this early,” you say, adjusting yourself on his thighs before you’re grabbing his hand, playing with his sleeve coyly as you wonder how far you can take this, “How’d you afford this place all by yourself? It’s in a good area too.”
“I didn’t,” Beomgyu stutters out, clearing his throat as he pulls his hand away from your grasp shyly, “I have a roommate— Yeonjun.”
“Choi Yeonjun? Captain of the baseball team?” You say, eyes widening as you watch Beomgyu nod softly; you’re sitting up, ignoring the way Beomgyu visibly relaxes at the action, “Is he here right now?”
“No, he’s out,” Beomgyu frowns, watching as the gears turn in your head, your pout obvious as you take in his response, “he won’t be home for another three hours.”
How in the hell did he and Beomgyu become roommates? It’s a question you’re quite literally fighting the urge to ask, but knowing that one of the most attractive guys you’ve had your eye on currently lives in the same house as the man before you makes you want to stick around longer— though you think you might be too obvious about it, judging by the way Beomgyu’s frowning at you.
“That’s nice,” you hum, feeling a bit bad for the way Beomgyu looks away in defeat, “but that means we’re all alone here?”
Your question is enough to have Beomgyu sitting up straight— your tone is so dangerous, the way you slowly crawl to him even more so.
He quickly finds himself scooting back, eyes flying around wildly as he almost falls off the bed— you’re quick to catch him, pulling him by the collar of his sweater as his adam’s apple bobs visibly. His long hair falls back and his face is left exposed to you, your body finding comfort on top of his as you straddle his thighs comfortably. His glasses are left on the tip of his nose as his ears quickly turn red, cheeks dusted with the same color as he uselessly props himself up on his elbows; you’re practically nose to nose as you tower over him, your cute blouse hanging and exposing your breasts in a way that has Beomgyu staring straight above your head— in return, the reflection of your sunglasses is all that meets him.
“Do you ever take a break?” You ask, letting go of his collar before you’re gently smoothing it out; he’s shivering at your touch, eyes fluttering shut nervously as he exhales at the feeling of your warm hand— he knows you can see the way he tenses as you begin to trail your palm down his chest, pressing teasingly where his heart resides as you tilt your head cutely.
“Ever stop studying and just…. Take care of yourself?” The implications of your words couldn’t be more obvious with the way your voice drops, your thighs clenching around his body as you watch his breath hitch at the action; your fingers delicately drum against his chest as you wait for him to say something, to push you off and tell you to never speak to him again— instead, he shakes his head, his shyness intensifying as his eyes remain shut.
“Will you let me take care of you?” You breathe out, entranced with the way his eyes finally open to meet yours— within them, he sees no malice or mockery, just an intense fire and need that has his stomach twisting and his hands grabbing at his neatly pressed sheets in anticipation.
Softly, he nods.
You’ve never experienced this before; you’ve never had a man pliant and weak under you, ready to take whatever you give him with adoring eyes that sparkle under the lights. You’re so used to being the one in that position, of allowing yourself to be used and molded how they’d like— so to say you’re quite surprised at the thrill you feel is an understatement.
“You’re like a little puppy,” you mumble sweetly, reaching up to caress his heated cheeks— the whine that escapes him is involuntary, your eyes clouding with lust as you take in the way he reacts to your nickname; leaning up, you grab the collar of his sweater as you guide him to sit up with you— you’re in awe of how obedient he is as he follows your command, hands hovering politely as he waits for your next move.
“Do you like it when I call you that?” You tilt your head, laying your hands by Beomgyu’s collar bones before they’re sliding up, intertwining lazily behind his nape as you’re leaning in teasingly; you’re so close to him, you can feel his breath fan on your face as you tease the corner of his lips with your own— you’re pulling away the moment he tries to chase you, giving him an expectant look as you wait for him to answer your question. “Puppy?”
“Y—yes, I…” he’s unable to finish his sentence the moment he feels your chest press against his, soft breasts teasing him as he squeezes his eyes shut; you’re everywhere, your lips planting feather-like kisses on his cheeks as you begin to overwhelm his senses. Your warm thighs that encase him, your hands that play with the nape of his hair, your perfume that he gets to inhale as you tilt your neck closer to him— hell, as you reach his jaw, he’s able to smell your shampoo, the scent addicting and no doubt expensive as you press yourself firmly against him.
This is insane. There should be no universe where Beomgyu should have one of the richest girls in his university pressed against him and on his lap, and there’s no way he’s the one submitting himself so pathetically in it. Yet here he is, practically leaning into your touch and chasing after you the moment you pull away, feeling a whine escape from his throat as he finally finds the courage to place a hand on your hip; keeping you in place, fingertips splayed over the swell of your ass as you try and fail to hide the smile that breaks out on your face.
“Stupid puppy wants me to kiss him?” You pout mockingly, and instead of feeling the usual shame bubbling within him from your condescending tone, Beomgyu can only feel himself melt pathetically, pouty face and shining doe eyes begging you to give in as you brush away a strand of hair that fell in his eye; Beomgyu’s eyes flutter shut at the gentle touch, lips parting before he finally feels you swoop in and take him by surprise.
Your lip gloss is sweet and sticky as you ravish the boy below you, able to feel his inexperience and eagerness with the way he’s practically ready to push you back into the mattress— but he holds himself back, allowing you to swipe your tongue along his lip and tease him before you’re venturing further.
It’s all so lewd and desperate, and Beomgyu feels dazed by the time you’re finally pulling away, a Cheshire grin on your face as you swipe his bottom lip that’s shining with lip gloss and saliva; like instinct, his lips part and close around your thumb, eyes never straying from yours as you feel his tongue swipe over the finger teasingly— your gaze darkens at the sight, mind racing with all the things you could do to him as you watch the way his plush lips circle around the digit.
The pop that sounds throughout the room when you pull away is enough to make you let out a soft groan, your eyes tracing along his body until you finally find the very thing you’re curious about— smiling, you’re not as surprised to find his dick straining against the neat fabric of his trousers.
“Can I touch you, pup?” You ask, your voice breathy and deep as you wait patiently for his answer; once again, he gulps, shining eyes just as dazed as you are before he finally lets out a soft yes; slowly, your perfectly manicured hand makes its way down to his khaki trousers, playing with the button before you’re finally undoing it— the sigh that Beomgyu lets out once you undo his zipper is practically lethal, your lips twitching in delight at the sound.
It’s cute to see the way his hips buck up into the air as you reveal his boxers, helping you pull down his pants until you’re face to face with the very thing you’ve been wanting the most. It’s odd, but it seems as though Beomgyu brings out a side you didn’t think existed, a teasing smile creeping its way onto your face as you plant your core firmly on him; he’s letting out a strangled gasp at the sudden pressure and warmth, his eyes screwing shut as his lips are falling open, the sight tempting as you resist the urge to kiss him again.
Beomgyu is like an instrument under your touch, and you’re eager to learn how to play as you slowly begin to rock your hips back and forth; the reaction is instant for him as he bucks up into you, whimpering cutely as his eyes remain shut the whole time. Your thighs feel so soft against his own, and he’s sure he won’t last long if he’s forced to inhale your intoxicating scent the whole way through.
It isn’t until you’re climbing off his lap that Beomgyu’s eyes are finally flying open, meeting yours in a confused haze as he allows you to push him back and tower over him as he lays; he looks so enticing and pretty with his hair splayed out around the sheets, lidded eyes and fucked out expression oddly addicting to you as you go to straddle one of his thighs.
“You’re so cute,” you coo, pushing his sweater up as you run your nails teasingly over his stomach— you laugh softly as he flinches at the feeling. Slowly, you’re pulling the waistband of his boxers down until his cock is finally springing out and smacking against his stomach; his tip is red and sticky as a line of precum is left connected to his stomach, his eyes shutting in embarrassment once more as he turns his head to the side in an effort to turn away. He’s so long as you take him in, appreciating the vein that runs along the curve of his shaft with a soft hum.
“Please,” he whines, covering his face with his hands as his body grows hotter the longer you stare at him; you can only laugh fondly at the sight, watching the way his hips buck up uselessly at the sound.
“My puppy, you’re so pretty,” you sigh, spitting in your hand before you’re finally reaching down to grab ahold of him; the feeling is unexpected as Beomgyu lets out a soft yelp under you, his cries dying out the moment you’re beginning to stroke him teasingly.
“How long has it been since you let out some steam?” You tease, running your thumb across his tip and spreading the precum along as he simply moans in response; he’s so whiny and breathy as none of your words seem to register in his head, enamored by the pretty girl that’s sitting on his thigh and stroking his cock so well.
You can’t help yourself when you readjust to kneel between his legs, his face still covered by his hands as he doesn’t anticipate your next move— Beomgyu swears he almost came the moment he felt your mouth wrap around his tip. Your mouth is practically watering around Beomgyu’s cock as you slowly take him in, surprised by his length yet determined to hear more of his pathetic gasps and whines as you slowly take him in.
“Oh god, oh god, you’re so— y-you’re so warm, oh,” Beomgyu is a babbling mess as his hands land helplessly on your head, unsure of what to do with them as he feels the tip of your nose press against his navel; his eyes are practically rolling back as he feels the mess you’re making on his cock, your mouth so hot and wet he can’t help the way he subtly thrusts into it.
“I’m sorry, I— I didn’t mean to…” his words are dying on his tongue the moment he feels you reach for his hand and pull back, guiding him to set the pace as you run your tongue over his tip— that’s enough to have Beomgyu whining and out of breath, but he’s able to pull himself together as he slowly begins to fuck your mouth.
“Shit, you’re so pretty, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Beomgyu breathes out, fascinated with the way you remain completely cool even as he begins thrusting his cock into your throat, “so good.”
The sudden confession doesn’t process in Beomgyu’s mind, but it has your mind reeling as you close your eyes, determined to make this man fall apart under you as you ignore the flutter of butterflies in your stomach.
It takes Beomgyu a second to find his pace as he’s gently stroking your hair, face warm and shining with embarrassment as he tries to ignore how inexperienced he may seem— contrary to what he might think, you don’t really care; the only thing you care for is how melodic he sounds as his hips begin stuttering into your mouth, the feeling of your tongue running along his shaft too much for him as his breath hitches pathetically.
“Wait wait wait— oh my god, I’m so— Ah, please don’t stop,” he’s whimpering and babbling at your touch, his hand attempting to pull you off as he nears his release; you only sink further in retaliation, the loud moan that Beomgyu lets out giving you satisfaction as you feel his cum spurting against the back of your throat— your eyes are barely able to catch his expression as he throws his head back, hips stilling entirely as he rides out his orgasm.
Beomgyu is still trying to catch his breath when he feels his hips bucking subconsciously, the feeling of you pulling away making him whine softly from the sensitivity. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, his glasses skewed and his vision a haze as his gaze meets yours— he’s able to catch the way you swallow, your mouth empty as a teasing grin sneaks onto your face.
His stomach flips at the sight.
He’s unsure of what to do as you sit up, your hair mused and your clothes in disarray as you take him in with an intense stare— he feels oddly shy as he tugs down his sweater to cover himself, gulping nervously as he begins to wonder if this was all a twisted joke— some sort of childish dare, anything that was meant to humiliate him.
Instead, he feels you reach forward to fix his glasses, brushing away the hair that was stuck to his forehead as you smiled sweetly; Beomgyu thinks he forgot how to breathe as he takes in your proximity, left frozen as you leave a slow, chaste kiss on his lips.
“I should go— you have work, right?” The question is enough to snap Beomgyu back to reality, nodding softly as you finally get up from his bed; turning to his mirror, you fix your appearance, brows raising in curiosity as you notice the guitar that’s propped up beside it— you briefly wonder if he’s good at playing it, and find yourself wanting to ask if he can sing; you refrain. “I’ll let you get ready then.”
There’s not much Beomgyu can say as he watches you go to his door like nothing happened; he flinches in surprise as you turn back to him one last time, a grin on your face as you send him one final goodbye.
“This was fun.”
Beomgyu is left to decipher your words and intentions as you walk away.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Why did you do that.
“Oh god, why did I do that?”
You’re a puddle of embarrassment as you roll around in the back of your driver’s car, your hands plastered on your face as you try to melt away from this reality— instead, the memory of Beomgyu’s flustered and fucked out face is the only thing that meets your eyelids.
You’re not sure what took over you— what in the world possessed you to fuck your tutor? You knew that if you told your friends you’d never hear the end of it, but you think you might be at risk of losing the only thing that was helping you get your grades up after this.
It was already difficult to get Beomgyu to agree to be in a room alone with you— and now you had to absolutely fuck up and push the boundaries to a place where you’d never return.
Out of all the men, it just had to be Choi Beomgyu. It’s a fact that makes your face heat up and your head hit the back of the car seat in defeat as you stare out the window in dismay; instead of going for someone who was in your league, you chose to go after a nobody.
You didn’t even get anything out of it! The thought is humiliating as you shut your eyes and groan, ignoring the way your driver glances back at you in concern; you sucked his dick and dipped— that is so unlike you.
Everything about the situation is unlike you— you would never go after someone like Beomgyu, he didn’t align with your type at all! The feeling of dread in your stomach is only worsened as you mentally go through the people you’ve been with in the past, cringing the more you realize how much of an outlier Beomgyu is.
“Mr. Kim,” you call out, pulling down your shades as you avoid the rays of sunlight that are hitting your face. He’s perking up in response immediately, glancing at you through his mirror before he nods his head to indicate he’s listening.
“Take me to Hueningkai’s house please,” you say, taking your phone out of your purse as you absentmindedly text Huening that you’re on your way— Mr. Kim’s yes ma’am is left unanswered as you watch Hueningkai respond within seconds— all you can do is sink further in your seat at his eagerness to see you, the implications of his message more than clear to you.
The drive to his home is long and silent, and you’re forced to reflect on yourself the whole way through— the more you do, the more flustered and confused you feel, forcing yourself to set those thoughts to the side as Mr. Kim pulls up to Huening’s driveway.
Yet even as you’re walking to his doorstep, an eager smile forced on your face as you wait for Huening to answer, you can’t help the way your thoughts stray. It all seems to linger on the same subject, gulping nervously at the way Beomgyu’s small whines still ring out in your head.
“Hey,” Hueningkai smiles, leaning against the doorway as he takes you in; you try to ignore the way his hungry eyes take you in, greeting him softly before you’re pushing past him and going inside, kicking your shoes off at the doorway.
“What’s up?” Hueningkai immediately asks, noticing the way you don’t indulge in any of his games or teasing, your face blank as you plop down on the couch. “You need something?”
“No,” you say, oddly defensive as you lay along his couch, crossing your legs as you proceed to do the same with your arms, “Can’t I just chill at your place without needing anything?”
Hueningkai raises a brow at your huffy comment. Tilting his head, he smiles, a gesture sly and teasing as he watches the way you stand your ground.
“Well, whenever you come over it’s usually not to just chill,” he says, repeating your words with clear amusement, “so forgive me for thinking something was off.”
You’re in a bad mood today; Hueningkai is quick to pick up on it as you scoff at his words, looking away from him and pouting as you remain silent. Slowly, he makes his way to you, testing out the waters before he’s sitting down at your feet.
“What’s wrong baby?” He asks, slowly beginning to hover over you until you can’t help but look at him; he’s everywhere, a holding himself up with a hand by your head while the other finds its way to your hip— playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly teasing you until he’s pushing past and caressing your skin— you flinch at the feeling of his cold hand.
“Come on, we can talk,” he says, but you know he doesn’t really mean it with the way his leg is trying to pry your thighs open, pressing up against your core as he feels something unexpected— his eyes are lighting up as he smiles down at you, raising a brow as he takes in the small change of your expression.
“Or maybe you don’t wanna talk?” He says, the surprising heat that meets his thigh is more than welcome as he watches you become flustered under him.
“Fuck off Huening,” you groan, pressing a hand against his chest as you turn away from him— all you get in return is a dark laugh, his lips ghosting along your jawline as he presses a firm kiss under your ear, his hand pushing your shirt up as it wanders towards your breasts.
“Hmm, are you sure?” He huffs, adjusting his position so that he’s able to place a hand on your hip, grinding your hips against his thighs as he bites his lip at the sight, “won’t you put those pretty lips to use at least?”
The irritation that had been brewing inside you is far too much to handle as you scoff at his words, your head snapping back to glare at him as you push against his chest firmly, catching him off guard as you knock him off his balance entirely; he’s knocked out of his lusty reverie as he stares at you with wide eyes from the other end of the couch, lips parting as he attempts to say something, only to be cut off by you.
“Seriously Huening, I’m not in the fucking mood!” You snap, pulling your top back down harshly before you’re standing up— he’s left to watch in confusion as you readjust yourself, your brows furrowed in a mean frown as you glare at him once more— and to think you thought you’d be able to spend more than five minutes with Hueningkai without him wanting to fuck you.
“Come on baby, you know I didn’t mean it like that—“
“Do you ever think without your dick when you’re around me?” It’s annoying to see how nonchalant Hueningkai is as he laughs off your words, crossing his arms defensively as he tries to play off what just happened.
“You didn’t even think to check up on me when I was sick!” You thought you were over the bitter moment, but the memory still seems to sting as you remind him of a time where you needed him the most, “ever since we started this whole… stupid friends with benefits thing, you’ve been acting like such a prick!”
“Don’t be like this,” Hueningkai groans, throwing his head back as he runs a hand through his hair, “you’re being dramatic.”
“Oh my god!” You bark, left in disbelief as you pace around his apartment, “like seriously, are you listening to yourself right now?!”
You’re more than fed up as you make your way back to the entrance, gathering your things and slipping on your shoes as you hear Hueningkai following close behind, spouting excuses and other nonsense to try and make you stay.
You’ve opened the door when Hueningkai grabs onto you desperately, tugging you back into his chest and asking you to listen to him as he sets firm hands on your hips; you’re looking at everything but him as you remain silent, your hands pressed defensively against his chest as you give him on last chance to redeem himself.
“Come on baby, you know I don’t wanna lose you,” he says, his voice soft and vulnerable as he leans in, watching as you tilt your head away from him and continue to refuse to meet his eyes. Feeling him press you harder against him, your jaw clenches as he places a sweet kiss on your cheek.
“Lemme make it up to you. Please?”
You know perfectly well what his words entail as you push him away from you once more, swinging your purse and smacking him harshly as you let your anger out on him. He has the audacity to laugh and cower away from you as he apologizes, telling you that it was just a joke as you continue to hit him relentlessly.
“Fuck you!” You say, out of energy and left a huffing mess as you swing the door open behind you, “asshole!”
You don’t stay around to see his reaction as you slam the door shut, storming away and walking along the sidewalk as you pull your phone out.
Pick me up please.
Huening’s being an asshole, I’m waiting outside.
It’s moments like these where you regret being irresponsible with your car, left with nothing but your driver as you still wait for your precious baby to come out of the repair shop; to this day your parents still scold you for an accident that happened over a month ago, the words “bad driver” tacked on along with the rest that curate your reputation.
In a perfect world, Hueningkai would’ve come out by now; he would’ve gone after you, apologizing and hanging his head in shame in regards to his behavior— in a perfect world, he wouldn’t have turned into the person he is now, forgoing your friendship entirely to satiate his needs— you hadn’t given much thought to what the consequences to this “friends with benefits” thing would be, but if you could go back in time to the moment where he drunkenly proposed it to you, you would’ve been quick to shut him down with an incredulous laugh.
It was your fault for having a soft spot for him. Your fault for wondering what his lips would feel like one too many times, for being caught staring at him back when you were just kids and you were forced to attend dinner parties together, trying and failing to conceal the way he could fluster you with just a single smile.
Now that his desires have been satiated, you doubt he has any use for you now— which is why you find yourself waiting pathetically outside his apartment, not used to this feeling that festers in your stomach as you wait patiently— whether it’s simply for your driver or for the glimmering hope that Hueningkai will own up to his actions and take you back, you’re not sure.
But what you do know is that you’ve never felt so small.
Moments later, your driver arrives; you swear you try to hold back, but you can’t help yourself from turning around and taking one last peek at Huening’s quiet, dull apartment— gritting your teeth, you flop inside, groaning obnoxiously as you rub your temples in annoyance; your driver is unfazed by your behavior— meeting his eyes, you sigh.
“I need to go shopping.”
Wordlessly, he nods— you don’t bother to stare out the window once you finally feel the car moving, in fear that your mind may begin to imagine scenarios that simply won’t happen.
The car ride is silent, and you realize with a frown that you may have left with a mood worse than before.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
This department store is useless.
Geez, did you piss off some god above or something? Because as you stand in your tenth store in the past hour, nose scrunched and brows furrowed unpleasantly, you feel as though you may be getting karma for something— though what it may be exactly, you’re unsure.
Everything around you is either already in your closet or simply outdated. Your fingertips tap rhythmically against your crossed arms, eyes narrowed as you take slow strides around the aisles of the stores— a part-time employee follows closely behind you, hands folded neatly and a pleasant smile glued to face as she comments on every item your eyes fall on, even if it’s just for a second; your jaw ticks at her cheap tactics to sell to you.
There’s only one thing that would make your mood at this time— a limited edition purse you have had your eyes on, trying your best to catch your usual stores at the right times in hopes of getting your hands on it. Yet, with every failed attempt, your frustrations and efforts only grow, and you’ve found yourself visiting these stores more often than you’d like, always leaving with an item or two despite telling yourself not to do so.
“Excuse me,” you say sternly, your steps coming to a halt as you slowly turn to the employee. She’s meek and her voice is airy as she speaks to you, eyebrows raised as though she seems genuinely interested in what you might say next— her act only displeases you more.
“I’m trying to shop in peace, please leave me alone.” you say, watching as the woman simply flinches at your comment, smile stiffening on her lips before she’s swiftly apologizing seconds after— if you weren’t careful, you could’ve missed the way her lips turned up with irritation as she turned, muttering quietly to herself as though you weren’t two steps away to hear it.
Rich snob, you pick up, blinking in surprise as you watch her steps becoming hasty with her retreat. You don’t allow yourself to be fazed by it, a smile tugging at your lips from amusement before you turn back around; scanning the store, you glance at the mannequins on display, taking in the outfits briefly before you catch onto something else— and before you can control yourself, you’re walking again.
Don’t be stupid, your brain tells you, yelling at you as you exit the store with haste, pushing past the people standing around as you make your way to the store across, Don’t do this, this is a bad idea, don’t—
Do it, your heart tells you, pounding against your chest as you adjust the purse strap on your shoulder, gulping slightly as you swing open the door, you’re not here for him, you’re here for the very thing you’ve worked so hard for.
And if it so happens to be in his hands right now, then is it really your fault that you find yourself standing before the very man that hurt you mere moments ago?
“Cute purse,” you breathe out, eyes glued to the way it shines beautifully under the lights of the store, “Though I don’t really think it’s your style.”
Hueningkai doesn’t bother looking up. He’s too busy handling the limited edition purse that you’ve so desperately been searching for, nimble fingers running over the details as though he were actually taking his time to inspect it; instead, he hums softly at your words, pretending to ponder for a second before he’s frowning.
“You really think so?” he asks, tsking softly to himself before he’s shaking his head, straightening up before he runs a hand against the surface; you watch the way his fingers slide across the material, teeth tugging at your lip as you fight the twitch of your brows, wanting nothing more than to take the item from his hands and walk away.
You stand there in silence, for a moment; you wonder slightly if Hueningkai is simply ignoring you, and the idea is enough to have you bristling with anger, your jaw clenching as you decide that it’s better to leave now than to look helpless before him— but he’s looking up at you, lidded eyes catching you in a daze as he tilts his head, sending you his signature charming smile.
“It wasn’t for me,” he says, looking down at the purse in his hands and holding it close to him, as though gauging its weight, “It was going to be a gift.”
“A gift? Quite the gesture on your part,” you scoff, looking at the display area in exasperation— fuck, the only purse in this awful store is in his hands, you realize— leaving you with no other choice but to hope that he’ll stop playing games and leave the purse he clearly never had any intentions of buying, “But I don’t think those other girls you talk to would be very interested in such a specific item like this— I’d suggest appealing to their own interests a bit more.”
With gritted teeth, you reach out to take the bag; an impulsive move on your part, not exactly surprised with the way Hueningkai immediately backs up and holds the bag close to him. You can practically feel your blood boil from the sheer anger that’s taking over from his antics, unamused entirely at the way he merely sends you an innocent smile.
“Don’t be rude,” he smiles, taking yet another step back, making more distance between you two, “Who are you to say what they would or wouldn’t like? Plus, I saw this first, and I had full intentions of buying it.”
You remain silent— whether you’re too baffled to speak or are simply trying to not explode and yell at him in the middle of the store, you’re not entirely sure— but, as you watch him raise a brow challengingly, you can only find yourself thinking one thing.
Fuck this. You’ll just order it online.
The idea takes away the very joy of being able to find it by chance, but you’d rather die right now than grovel to Hueningkai— like he very clearly wants— in hopes that he’ll take pity on you and give you the purse; spinning on your heels, you make your way out with brisk steps.
You don’t get very far before you hear him calling out your name— but you ignore it, a baffled scoff escaping you in response to his sheer audacity to act so shameless after belittling you a few hours prior; you’re a few steps away from the exit when you feel a tug on your wrist, jolting you back and preventing you from leaving.
“What, Hueningkai?” you say, huffing exasperatedly as you shake off his grip on you, “Can’t you just leave me alone for once? I’m not in the mood to play your stupid games.”
“Well then why don’t you talk to me instead of running away childishly?” he says sharply, and you have to bite your tongue in order to not point out his hilariously hypocritical statement, “you’re acting so weird, what the hell happened?”
You think you might just do something that’ll get you banned from the store— but something catches your eye before you can act out on your impulses, and you’re ripping your wrist from Hueningkai’s hold with one last harsh tug. Your gaze is no longer on him; he tries to follow your line of sight, but fails to catch onto what you’re looking at.
“Get out or leave me alone,” you say, giving him one last cold look before you’re brushing past him, “I’m not interested in talking to you.”
You’re weaving through the displays and getting out of his sight quickly— and Hueningkai is left with a purse he had no interest in buying, looking down at the item before he scoffs; he throws it off at a random shelf and exits promptly after.
Your footsteps are haste and your heels click rhythmically on the tiled floor; you’re making your way to the cash register, watching his meek stance and the way he flinches under your gaze, a flush running up the back of his neck and coloring his ears red— but you don’t dare to look away from him, placing a rough hand on the counter and leaning close as you inspect him.
“You didn’t tell me you worked here.”
Beomgyu is attempting to stutter out a weak response; his cheeks are colored and his hair is tied back neatly, and you can see the way his hands twitch, undoubtedly resisting the urge to run a hand through the neat style.
“Why— why would I tell you? It’s not something you’d need to know. Or– is it…?”
You’ve confused him, that much you’re sure of. His brows have knitted together and he remains flustered beyond belief— you’re sure you can guess what’s running through his mind right now, and you fight the twitch of your lips at the mere thought.
“I thought you worked as a server.”
“I– I do?” he’s tilting his head in confusion, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly, “I have two jobs.”
“Three,” you quip, drumming your nails against the counter rhythmically, “you tutor.”
“I… guess…?” Beomgyu says, fighting back the urge to correct you that he really doesn’t— you’re the only one he’s ever tutored before.
“Why would you need to work three jobs? How do you get the time for this?” you don’t really know why you’re pestering Beomgyu about this so much— but you’re also fascinated by it, now beginning to understand where Beomgyu’s lack of social life stems from.
He’s unsure of how to answer your question again; you don’t seem to be particularly patient today, (but then again, when are you?) so you’re waving him off with a dismissive swat of your hand, shaking your head and clicking your tongue before you’re changing the subject; Beomgyu is left to watch as you pull your phone out, scrolling on it for a bit before you’re placing it on the counter and spinning it around for him to see— his eyes are narrowing in concentration as he takes in the picture.
“This purse,” you say slowly, tapping your nail on your phone screen, as though Beomgyu wasn’t currently looking at it, “do you have it in stock? This guy already got one, but I need to know if you have others— I’ve got to have it.”
The urgency in your voice is a bit surprising to Beomgyu— he takes in your expression, solemn and a bit scary, and gulps— then he watches the way you melt in relief the moment he nods hesitantly.
“I’m sure we just got a shipment in today— we, haven’t really, uhm, stocked up properly yet,” he stutters, wincing slightly at the sound while you remain unfazed; your brows lift expectantly, and he’s snapping out his daze and sending you a shaky smile, “I’ll go check.”
He scurries out of your sight and into the employee door quicker than you can process— and when he turns around to take a peek at the small window, he finds you leaning on the counter and on your phone— probably texting, judging by the way your thumbs fly by on the screen— and he feels another heat of shame wash over him, his head spinning and his legs turning into jello.
How can you act so casually? He wonders, glasses slipping down just a bit farther down his nose, nimble fingers pushing it back up with ease, like you weren’t just in his bedroom a few hours prior… like he wasn’t under you…
Beomgyu practically jumps the moment your eyes flicker up and meet his; you simply smile, glossed lips stretching slowly before you give him a wink.
In response, he spins around and begins to actually look— his heart hammers in his chest.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
So pretty.
So perfect and smooth to the touch, cool under your fingertips— you take your time to feel, to trace over every detail, intricate and crafted by the gods as you let out a shaky sigh— your eyes meet Beomgyu’s, and you have half the mind to feel a bit sheepish, retracting your hand quickly and returning to a socially acceptable state of mind.
“Sorry,” you say, beaming at him before you’re reaching into your current bag and handing him your card; his eyes widen comically at the smooth black plastic you place in his hold carelessly, “It’s just… all I could ever ask for. I can’t believe I finally have my hands on this…”
Meanwhile, Beomgyu rings up your inexplicably expensive item, swiping your card and watching the way you don’t even flinch at the sum that shows up; he feels a bit jealous at your nonchalance.
You’re carrying the purse like it were a baby; it isn’t until Beomgyu offers to bag it for you that you finally let it go, placing it gently on the counter and smiling fondly as you watch Beomgyu place it carefully in the equally luxurious gift bag, placing filler paper on top and handing it back to you, his movement practiced and calculated as he says his usual lines— his mind is running on autopilot once more, but you’re particularly eager to break him out of it as you reach out to take the bag from him, warm hand wrapping around his and tugging him slightly towards you.
“Thank you for all your help today,” you purr, shining lips stretching into a coy smile, leaning against the counter and watching as he gulps, adam's apple bobbing, “I think I’ll do well on our upcoming quiz— you’re such a good tutor.”
You don’t bother to stick around after that; your steps are brisk and you’re hugging the purchase close to your body, as though someone were after it and ready to take it, confidence in your step as you exit the store— Beomgyu, on the other hand, practically crumbles the moment you’re out of sight, fingers turning white from how hard he grips onto the edge of the counter; his heart pounds and the sound of blood rushing fills his ears, mind inevitably going back to your teasing action before he’s flustering again.
You’re laughing to yourself the whole ride home— his reaction plays on your mind like a loop, beyond amused by the sight as you pat yourself on the back for being able to come up with something so clever on the spot.
What you don’t realize, however, is that there are consequences to your actions— consequences that are far beyond your control.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
“Are you for real?”
“Uh-huh,” you grin, placing a fond hand on your cheek and batting your eyes at Yunjin, “totally aced it.”
“That’s something I never thought I’d hear from you,” your friend says, poking her fork at her salad before taking a bite; she furrows her brows as she takes in your expression, mouth agape and eyes wide, as though you were offended. “What? It’s true.”
“Okay, first off— I’m not stupid, just lazy,” you clarify, pointing an accusing finger at your friend as you pout, “and second of all, you should really believe in your friend a little more.”
“I mean, it was a little hard to when all you would do was skip classes and go shopping instead,” Yunjin says, raising a challenging brow when you open your mouth to refute her claims— then proceed to promptly close it again, finding that you really can’t deny that— and a small smile tugs at her lips, the kind that lets you know that she’s about to say something really annoying, “but I guess your study sessions with your little boy toy really did work.”
“Boy—?!” you’re in the middle of taking a sip from your iced coffee when she says that, the straw slipping from your mouth and a bit of the liquid escaping from the sheer surprise of her comment— you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling a slight heat rush to your face as you stare at her incredulously, “boy toy?”
“I mean, am I wrong?” Yunjin challenges, tilting her head in curiosity while you simply try to deny her claims, “you were literally just telling me about the way you had him wrapped around your finger a while ago—”
“Not like that though!” you huff, feeling worked up from the mere idea of Yunjin finding out the complete and utterly stupid slip up you had a while ago, “god, he’s literally such a fucking loser, don’t try to pair me up with him— other people might get the wrong idea. It’s already bad enough that I had to get a tutor, because it’s not like I was doing bad in my classes until recently. I mean, it’s still my fault and I did let myself go, but I didn’t think I’d have to stoop so low! And now I have to take so much time out of my day to spend my time studying with him and even worse, you’re trying to insinuate something that definitely isn’t true—!”
“Yes! Okay! Enough of that please!” Yunjin says exasperatedly, glancing over your shoulder briefly before she’s taking another bite of her salad, muttering something about you having a motor mouth, “god, it’s just that… people have seen you two together a lot, you know? And with the way he’s looking over at you right now, anyone would think that he’s like… in love with you, or something.”
You’re sitting up straight and whirling around at that; following Yunjin’s previous line of sight, you’re able to pinpoint the said boy immediately— sitting a few tables away, catching him staring at you over his laptop, clearly distracted from his work— the moment your eyes meet, he flinches, hunching down so the screen hides him; it doesn’t work very well, and you’re able to see his downcast eyes and reddening face with ease.
Oh my god, you think with horror, a cold wave washing over you as you stare at him longer— and after a few seconds, he’s peeking back up from his screen, meeting your eyes once more and scrambling to hide unsuccessfully yet again. You decide to turn back around before anyone else around you catches on to this interaction.
“Oh my god,” you breathe out, meeting Yunjin’s gaze as she simply nods at you, her face screaming I told you so, “how long has he been there?”
“Like… basically this whole time,” Yunjin says casually, not fazed in the slightest by your horrified expression, “been staring at you for a while too.”
“Ugh, gross,” you groan, throwing your head back in defeat and staring up at the ceiling with a frown, “I think I might’ve gotten his hopes up too much.”
“C’mon, go easy on him,” Yunjin teases— your head is straightening up to look at her again, but a single glance is enough to tell you she merely finds this situation amusing, “it’s probably his first time properly interacting with a woman.”
“That’s even worse,” you mourn, slumping down and placing your head in your hands; a sudden reminder of your schedule is popping back into your head, and your peeking through your fingers in dismay as you relay the information to your friend, “and I have a study session with him today too.”
“Aww!” she coos, clearly having a blast as she grins, glancing behind you and undoubtedly at Beomgyu once more, “I’m sure he just can’t wait to see you again.”
“God, please shut up,” you whine petulantly, but your friend brushes off your pleas with a mischievous smile, “you’re making me wanna throw up.”
“What, you gonna cancel then?”
Silence. Any other day, you would’ve immediately jumped to say yes, pulling out your phone to text him and bailing like it was nothing. But today, you find yourself oddly reluctant to say this three letter word, unsure of why the answer is difficult to voice before you finally give in to the truth— your head slumps with defeat and you’re too ashamed to look Yunjin in the eyes.
“No.”
“Oh wow,” you hear her say, still blatantly teasing you as she laughs giddily— you don’t bother to react at this point, choosing to ignore the unspoken question of why you’re not ditching him this time.
“Hope you have fun,” she muses, taking one last glance behind you before she’s giggling to herself, “try to go easy on him, m’kay?”
Fuck, this was so embarrassing.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Today, you’ve changed up your meeting spot quite a bit; Beomgyu was thoroughly surprised when you asked him to study later on in the day, in a more secluded area on the upper levels of the library, telling him to pick a table and wait for you to get there after— usually, you tried to make your meetups as convenient for you as possible, choosing places that you could easily flee from.
When you finally come into his line of sight, Beomgyu frowns. You carry your bag with you, along with a troubled expression and tense posture, glancing around you continuously even if there was no one around, even if the table was hidden behind bookshelves— as though you were afraid of getting caught for something.
You’re dumping your things onto the table unceremoniously— and instead of taking your spot across from Beomgyu like always, you’re sitting next to him, catching him off guard and missing the way he tenses at the action— you’re scooting your chair closer to him and filling his senses with your scent, making him gulp thickly as he tries to not let his mind wander off; he realizes with dread that it’s really not working.
Beomgyu is a stuttering mess today; you pick up on it with ease, frowning at the way he continues to blunder through his explanations and having to repeat things to you multiple times, hands shakier than usual as he points out certain things in the text before he’s relating it back to the assignment.
“That— that’s one of the things the… the uhm, the professor said would be important to remember,” Beomgyu stutters, feeling his body heat up at the way you raise your brows at the sound of his cracking and meek voice. With one glimpse at your (clearly) judgemental and demeaning expression that you didn’t even bother to hide, Beomgyu is scrambling to get his act together.
It works, for a while; the two of you are left in silence as you work on the homework your professor assigned to you, and you remain unfazed at the feeling of Beomgyu catching glimpses at you from time to time; whether that be to look at what you had written down or simply to look at you, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care.
You’re snapped out of zone of concentration at the sound of rustling; a peek from your peripheral vision allows you to watch as Beomgyu has now begun to dig through his bag, wondering what he could be up to; with a roll of your eyes, you’re focusing back to the question you were working on, not bothering to glance back again even once the rustling has ceased.
Without warning, something is placed gingerly on the open surface of your textbook; you’re blinking in surprise before you’re registering what it is that has been put before you, brows knitting together as you wonder how you should react.
It’s a… mini paper flower bouquet.
You’re staring at the item for a solid few seconds before you slowly turn to look at the culprit. Beomgyu meets your intense gaze the best he can, putting up a confident front and fighting back the heat that threatens to engulf his face.
“Y–You— I heard you did well on your test.” He says, glasses slipping down his nose and bangs falling into his eyes, gaze flickering away for a split second before he wills himself to look at you again. Your stare is dead and unreadable.
“I never told you that.”
Beomgyu is losing this battle, his confidence visibly wilting away as his cheeks begin to get dusted with pink. His eyes are wide like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to respond as you give him a look that is expecting an explanation— his cheeks are now a bright red.
Even without his explanation, you both know how he got a hold of this news— and you’re thinking back to Yunjin’s teasing, the fear of being seen with him during today’s study session, and the flustered boy in front of you— and your mouth is running faster than you can stop it.
“Choi Beomgyu, do you like me?”
If the floor around you was already quiet before, it’s dead silent now; you’re even able to pick up on the stuttered breath Beomgyu lets out, his eyes growing comically wide as he simply stares at you; almost as though he couldn’t believe what you just asked of him.
“Actually, don’t even answer that,” you wave him off, choosing to ignore the way this seems to spring him into action, stuttering and failing to put together a proper sentence to tell you that no, he definitely doesn’t— you just caught him off guard!
But it’s not like you would believe him anyway, with the way he remains flustered long after you asked the question, unable to even look your way for the rest of the session, staring straight at the textbook and nowhere else whenever you would ask him a question— after a while, you begin to tire of his behavior.
“Choi Beomgyu,” you call out again, soft and dangerous as you turn to face him— he was attempting to explain a question to you, words dying on his tongue as he took in your sudden proximity— leaning in toward him, you tilt your head as you observe his reaction, watching the way his lips press together and his adam's apple bobs as he gulps softly; his puppy-like eyes shine as he waits for you to say something.
“Are you okay?” you ask him, your voice beginning to dip into that coy lilt that you’ve used on him only one other time— and that’s enough to have Beomgyu’s mind spinning, the poor boy thinking thoughts that he’s tried to suppress this whole time— your affect on him is beginning to show once more.
“You look a little…” your eyes flicker down beneath the table, a smile tugging at your lips before you’re looking back into the boy's eyes; catching where you were looking, Beomgyu can’t help but tug his sweater over his lap in embarrassment.
You’re leaning even closer now— your breath is fanning against the shell of his ear, the boy’s face practically on fire as his hands remain clenched and tense on his lap— he’s practically a statue due to your proximity.
“Distracted.”
Your hands are mischievous; curious, setting your pencil down carefully before they begin to wander, sliding across the table before it falls off the edge, nails scratching at the wool material of Beomgyu’s sweater before it lands on top of his hand that covers his lap— you grin at the choked breath of surprise he lets out from the simple touch.
“What— what, what are y–you—?” Beomgyu is about to bite through his lip at this rate, eyes wide and panicked as he watches your hand push his away, taking in the bulge in his pants as a flush of shame rises up his neck; you’ve caught him, but you don’t seem to be fazed in the slightest as you’re cupping him gently, looking up at him with doe eyes and lashes that flutter innocently— he thinks his heart might just explode from how quickly it’s pounding.
“Wait, wait wait— we’re in— other people might—” he’s tripping over his words, saying so much yet nothing at all, but the way his eyes skirt over the perimeter is enough to tell you what he’s thinking— yet all you see are bookshelves that surround and hide you well— beneath the warmth of your hand that has yet to move, you can feel Beomgyu hardening within seconds.
“It’s late. There’s no one else here right now,” you say sweetly, too sweet, a bit patronizing as you lean in close and coo the words directly into his ear— you’re brushing back his long hair with a gentle hand, tucking it behind his ears that he always seems to hide; they’re a pitiful bright red and decorated with silver piercings, absentmindedly caressing along his jaw with the back of your hand; his eyes flutter shut at the tender action, along with the feeling of your hand finally beginning to rock against his cock gently— and he melts into the chair, like putty in your hands as you watch his shoulders slump and cave into himself, his head hang at the stimulation; you’ve barely done anything, yet he’s already a mess— the sight surprises you.
“Go ahead,” you continue softly, hand cupping his jaw and cradling it carefully, attempting to get him to look at you again— and he follows your commands effortlessly, pretty eyes fluttering open and his head turning at the gentle push of your hand— and he’s looking at you with glassy, wide eyes, cheeks flushed pink and mouth parted as his eyes begin to flutter shut again— and your thumb is rubbing soothing circles along his cheekbone teasingly, leaning in slightly to whisper again, close enough that he can feel your breath fanning against the tip of his nose, “Puppy, look at me.”
He follows your command in a heartbeat; he’s met with another of your sickeningly sweet smiles, deceiving and comforting all at the same time.
“Go ahead now puppy,” you murmur, any movements of your hand ceasing entirely as you watch him with eager eyes, watching the way he seems to sober up at the loss of your touch, “take my hand off— c’mon, take it off if you really want to.”
A moment passes— he really should be taking your hand off, shouldn’t he? But his mind is clouded now and you look so pretty under the warm library lights, pristine and perfect as always, glossy lips and lidded eyes encouraging him with a deceivingly fond look— but Beomgyu loves it, and he loves the way you laugh mockingly at him, unable to control the way he whines petulantly and shakes his head, giving you your answer by thrusting his aching cock into your hand desperately.
“Good boy,” you utter absentmindedly, a compliment that makes Beomgyu’s hips stutter as you finally begin to inch up his bulge, careful fingers making quick work to undo his pants— and with one last glance at the deserted area around you, you’re slipping your hand inside and past the tight waistband of his boxers.
“Haah—!” Beomgyu is slapping a hand over his mouth and beating you to it, eyes wide and face even more flushed than before as he stares down at the way your hand disappears beneath the material of his boxers, expertly wrapping around his length and slowly beginning to jerk him off underneath the table.
You don’t seem to be worked up by any of this at all; your eyes are lidded with a slight boredom, a tiredness he’s seen at every one of your study sessions, watching the way you turn back to your homework and begin reading the instructions, hand still working expertly at his length as you do; Beomgyu has to press another hand firmly against his mouth the moment your thumb is swiping over his tip, collecting the constant arousal that collects there and using it as lube— you don’t even bat an eye at him during all this.
After a few minutes, you’re able to hear the slick sounds of your hand working against his cock effortlessly; the poor boy is aroused and leaking beyond belief, now sporting a wet patch against his pants that you seem to be dead-set on worsening— your pace is picking up and you don’t bother to glance at Beomgyu to check up on him, though you also don’t bother to hide the way your lips quirk in amusement at the sight of him trying (and failing) to keep his composure.
“M–mmh, agh— close, s’close…” Beomgyu stutters out pathetically, bucking his hips up messily and turning back into that desperate and rambly mess from the first time you sucked him off; his voice is deep and breathy as he whispers out these pleas to you, begs to not stop, to go faster, to—
“Beomgyu,” you whisper coyly, using this chance to finally put your plan into action, “Beomgyu baby, d’you wanna cum? Hmm? Want me to make you feel good?”
He’s nodding thoughtlessly; of course he’s nodding, his mind has gone blank and there’s nothing else in there that seems to make sense except for the way your warm hand wraps around his cock so perfectly, unable to stop the choked whines he lets out every time he feels you squeeze him teasingly.
“Then you gotta do something for me, okay pup?” you coo out, making sure to use the nickname you know he loves so much— he lets out a choked whimper at the sound, brows knit tightly together and hair falling in front of his face with the way he hangs his head— and you’re leaning in close to him again, breath fanning on his skin and your palm slapping his cheek softly, tapping at it to get his attention; it works like a charm, and his glassy eyes are meeting yours once more. “Puppy, are you listening?”
“I’m—” his words get cut off by a weak whine, feeling your hand tighten teasingly around him, “I’m listening— I’m listening.”
“Good,” you coo out, feeling the way his hips buck and he starts becoming restless, “now if you wanna cum, you gotta promise me something, okay?”
Anything, anything for you, he breathes out absentmindedly, and you’re sure he has no idea what he’s even agreeing to at this point.
“Don’t act like you know me when we’re in public,” you say sweetly, muddling his mind by increasing your pace, by doing exactly what you’ve noted makes him squirm and cry the most, “I don’t know you, you don’t know me— we’re strangers.”
You notice the way his face is twisting up in confusion; his mouth is parting and he’s fighting to say something, to ask why— but you’re not giving him a chance to, brushing his hair back and cupping his face, turning him to look at you and digging your nails into his cheeks to get him to meet your eyes; through the intense pleasure you give him, you can still see the hurt that swims within. You let out a soft coo at the pathetic sight.
“Come on, promise me, okay?” you pout, “you’re a good boy, right? You’ll keep your promise?”
His hips are stuttering and fucking into your fist again; you’ve got him pinned down precisely. Any coherent thought is fading out of Beomgyu’s mind and the only thing he’s concerned himself with is his impending orgasm, the feeling of pleasure that is only heightened with every string of praise you say to him.
“Be a good little puppy and say you’ll promise me,” you say, thumb swiping over his bottom lip before you’re pulling at it, dark eyes observing the way he melts before your touch and finally gives in— he’s nodding, you’ve got him right where you want him, and all you needed was a little bit of mindless praise. “c’mon, say it, say it and you can cum.”
“I promise,” he breathes out, whiny and high pitched and strained, as though speaking was a challenge for him, “I’ll do anything, please— pleasepleaseplease, let me cum, I’ll— I promise.”
“There we go baby,” you hum in approval, pressing a peck to his pouting lips and taking in the way his waterline is filled with tears that hang precariously, “such a good boy— my good boy.”
His hips stutter, rising off the seat, and you’re feeling warm spurts of cum land on your skin. His mouth is falling open and you’re sure he might just let out a loud noise, so before you can think twice, you’re pulling his face close to you and smashing your lips against his; he whines weakly into mouth, and you’re swallowing it greedily, kissing him languidly and guiding him through his high with praise that makes his breath stutter and his knees weak.
You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and good.
It takes a while before Beomgyu is finally coming to his senses. He’s panting softly against your mouth, lips swollen and bitten at, his cock sensitive as the feeling of you continuing to pump him slowly suddenly becomes too much; with a shaky hand, he presses against your shoulder and attempts to signal you to stop. You’re pulling away immediately.
Beomgyu looks, for lack of a better term, absolutely destroyed. His face is flushed and his eyes are droopy with exhaustion, hair mussed and messy and his clothes in complete disarray; you look down, and you’re wincing in half amusement and half pity at the sight of the wet spot against Beomgyu’s jeans. He’s following your gaze, and if he could turn any redder, you’re sure he definitely would’ve; his ears burn.
Your hand is messy; his cum is still coated on your skin, sticky and incriminating as it sticks to your fingers and pools in between, a grimace twisting your face into a look of dismay as you stare down at the mess— before you can even think of what to do about it, Beomgyu is handing you a tissue.
His hand is shaky as he extends it out to you; your gaze is snapping up to meet his, only you’ve found that he can’t look at you at all— it seems as though the fog in his mind has already subsided and he’s realized what you’ve asked of him, lips pressed together and face still flushed as you finally take it from him. He turns away from you immediately, pulling his sweater over his lap and staring down at the disarray of textbooks and notebooks before him.
The silence is suddenly unbearable. You feel awkward as you wipe at your skin, even more so when you’re stuck with nothing but a soiled tissue and a hand that’s still undeniably dirty, the tension between you two now growing tenfold by the second as you finally decide that you should probably just go— it’s not like he’d be surprised by it anyway.
You’re opening your mouth to excuse yourself— to ignore the elephant in the room, to simply run away with a coy smile like you always do— but Beomgyu is beating you to the punch, and you can’t even hide the startled flinch your body does as he stands and begins to pack up hastily, shoving his materials into his book bag without a second glance to see if everything is perfectly aligned and neat.
You can only sit there and watch; it’s clear that your words seem to have gotten to him, and though you were expecting the awkwardness that would stem from it, you didn’t expect Beomgyu to be upset; your mind races to find reasons why, to try and wrap your head around why he would be feeling this way.
“I asked the professor how you were doing in the class, since you never seem to want to tell me,” Beomgyu finally says, breaking the tension and adjusting the materials in his bag to be just the way he likes it; he zips his bag shut in one aggressive swoop, and you can’t help the surprise on your face when he sends you a harsh glare.
“He says you’ve been improving greatly; said you were a good student from the very start, that you only needed to catch up on the materials.” he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder, pushing the chair in and taking a step back from your dumbfounded figure, “so it looks to me that you achieved your goal with our sessions.”
A moment passes— and your eyes widen slightly, catching on to what he’s trying to tell you, finding that you really want to deny the professor’s claims, even if they are true. But your pride impedes you from uttering a single word, knowing that it would kill you to try and coax Beomgyu to stay with you, to keep these study sessions going— and through this sudden urge, you catch yourself wondering why you would even want this to continue.
“I’m glad my help seemed to work— but it seems that you don’t even need it anymore,” Beomgyu finalizes what he needed to say, and you can see the way his shoulders practically sag from the relief of getting his thoughts across; his hand goes to tug his oversized sweater down, completely covering his lap and the mess you left— he grimaces softly.
“What? So that’s it?” is all you can say, watching his face harden at your words, “Just like that? What about me?”
His face twists up in anger— your words have struck a nerve, and suddenly, he’s remembering why no one wanted to tutor you in the first place.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” is all he says, taking another step back and increasing the distance between you two, “anyone would be willing to tutor you with the rate you like to offer.”
You both know what he really wants to say— just use your money on someone else to get what you want, like you always do. You find that you can’t really say anything to that. You remain silent.
Beomgyu turns around, and leaves; he doesn’t bother to say goodbye, and you’re left to watch his retreating figure, the hastiness of his pace and the way he continuously tugs his oversized sweater down over and over, even if it doesn’t move an inch.
That’s it, you tell yourself, leaning back against your chair, staring down at the display before you, at the notes you were actually taking, the work you were finally doing, you finally got what you wanted.
After a moment, the seat next to you is feeling a lot emptier than it did seconds ago; the room feels endless, as though you were left alone in this lonely labyrinth. Beomgyu’s words echo in your head, and you frown.
Is this what you wanted?
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Beomgyu has kept his promise well; you haven’t seen him in weeks.
Not around campus, not around the dining halls, not even in the library, a place you’ve found yourself actually attending regularly— not even in the only class you shared— and it seems as though he’s vanished off the face of the Earth.
You’ve found yourself thinking about him more often than you’d like; wondering if he’s okay, if he’s off at one of his many jobs again, if he’s resting— it makes you shiver with disgust every time you catch yourself, grimacing at the idea that you would even find yourself worried about him— and while you tell yourself that you’ve finally gotten rid of one of your biggest burdens, you can still feel the nagging feeling to talk to him every time you see his contact in your phone.
“Did you finally get him off your trail?” Yunjin asks you one day, when you’re busy checking the due dates for this week’s assignments online, making a mental schedule of what to work on first as you leave your food untouched; her words are snapping you out of your trance, looking up at her with a gaze that screams I wasn’t listening, what?
“Your little plaything— the loser guy?” she drawls, watching your face carefully, taking your small reaction as a sign that you’ve caught on, “did you finally shake him off?”
“I— yeah, I did,” you say apathetically, letting out a soft tsk as you’re looking back at your laptop, “finally.”
“Wow, look at you,” Yunjin awes, seeing the way your brows furrowed in concentration and you have yet to eat, too immersed in your course load to roll your eyes at her clear, mocking tone, “looks like he really did a number on you— I didn’t know you used your laptop for anything other than shopping.”
“Yunjin, come on,” you sigh, jaw clenching as you suddenly don’t find yourself in the mood for her teasing, “I mean, I know I’ve been slacking really bad recently, but you know that’s not true.”
She doesn’t seem to take you seriously— then again, no one ever really does, a constant in your life that makes you jaw tick and your eyes mentally roll— and she laughs, shaking her head and pouting as though you were a thing to be pitied. You wonder how much of this is supposed to be friendly teasing.
“Yeah sure,” she sighs, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand and leaning over to look at your screen, “Don’t work too hard though, it might hurt your brain.”
You ignore her comment; Yunjin doesn’t seem to care about your silence, doesn’t bother to gauge your reaction as she continues to poke at yet another of her salads, pushing the contents around with her fork in boredom as she speaks up again.
“You know, hopefully he has the same effect on me.”
This gets your attention immediately. Yunjin is looking at you with surprised eyes that feign innocence, raising a confused brow at your narrowed eyes.
“What do you mean by that,” you ask slowly, attempting to keep your tone indifferent as you speak.
Yunjin shrugs, as though what she was about to tell you next wasn’t of any importance— and it really shouldn’t be, but you still can’t ignore the way it makes your body feel like you’ve been shocked with a wave of electricity.
“I mean, your little tutor seemed to be such a good influence so…” she stabs at her salad lazily, bringing up the fork to her lips before she’s sending you a small smile. “I thought I’d give him a try.”
You bristle quite visibly at that; your mind is running a million miles an hour, wondering where this sudden idea is coming from, being friends with Yunjin for longer than you can remember as your mouth begins to run before you can stop it.
“You said your parents have tried to set you up with multiple tutors— the best in the country,” you say, brows knitted together as Yunjin simply shrugs her shoulders, raising her brows as if to say and? “You said you’d rather die than to get tutored— you said it was a waste of time.”
“Yeah… but…” Yunjin shrugs again, and you wonder how much of this is just an impulse from her as she continues, “I don’t know, my parents are on my ass again about giving me a tutor, and I don’t wanna deal with all those stuck up pricks they send to me.”
She admits her true motives with her next words.
“And I don’t know… he’s kinda cute?” she says, laughing like a schoolgirl who was embarrassed to admit a crush, “In like, a pathetic kinda way— and now that he’s done tutoring you, I’m sure he has a slot that opened up.”
Your mind is spiraling with things to say to her; you want to tell her to stay away from Beomgyu, to not try to mess with him— tell her that he’s a loser that isn’t worth her time, a nerd with an obsession with a lame game and the owner of a creepy bird— but you catch yourself, biting your tongue and taking in the way Yunjin simply looks at you expectantly; as though waiting for your embarrassing outburst, you realize.
With a scoff, you’re slamming your laptop shut— Yunjin flinches in surprise.
“I’m sure one did— I’m leaving,” is all you say, knowing that nothing would change, even if you tried anything. Yunjin scrambles to try to get you to stay, but all attempts fall short— you tell her there’s an exam you need to study for, and she sighs in defeat.
“You’re coming to the party this Saturday, at least?” she says, clearly annoyed at your sudden sensitivity, at your sudden change in attitude, “you promised you would.”
Your mind is attempting to remember what she could be talking about— then you’re finally remembering the event she spontaneously planned a few weeks back, telling you that she hasn’t seen everyone together in one place in so long— and while you found yourself agreeing excitedly back then, you don’t have much energy to do so now. But Yunjin is staring at you expectantly, raising a brow at your silence, and you find that there’s really not much of a choice for you. (There is, but you know there’d be consequences if you chose wrong.)
“Yeah. I’ll be there.”
“Perfect!” she beams, eyes crinkling and her hands clasping together happily, as though there was no previous tension between you at all mere moments before, “I’ll see you then.”
You merely nod, turning around and taking your food to the nearest trash can— you weren’t really hungry, anyway.
You can feel Yunjin’s eyes pinpointed on you the whole way out.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
You’ve always loved parties.
You loved to dress up, make yourself look pretty and catch the eyes of everyone with your pretty dresses and makeup done to perfection; loved the attention that came with it, the way you could let loose for once and not worry about your image, drinking and feeling your body become loose, mind finally being allowed to forget about any worries you had.
You were known to be a social butterfly; the pretty airhead that couldn’t stop talking once you got her started— always the life of the party, never one to cling to the wall and stare at the dance floor wistfully.
Standing before the beach house of Yunjin’s parents, one they didn’t use as much as they once did when Yunjin was only a little girl with an affinity to the sea, you begin to wonder where that part of you has gone.
You feel dreadfully out of place. You haven’t even gone inside yet.
Music is blasting and the windows are dark, save for the bright neon lights that come from an unknown source; Yunjin has always been a sucker for that club vibe, anyway. You want to go in, want to walk inside and pretend like it’s nothing, but this time, you can only stand at the bottom of the steps and tug your dress down a little more. You feel like a prude.
Deep breaths, you tell yourself— one in, one out, your chest rising and falling slowly as you try calm your racing pulse— and with a silent okay of reassurance to yourself, you will your body to begin its trek up the steps.
The door is unlocked; it’s not like you needed to knock to get in, anyway— only those with an invite even knew this party was happening. The place isn’t packed— nor is it meant to be— but it’s a bit crowded at least, filled with familiar faces for the most part; all people you grew up with or around, sons and daughters of influential families that grew to be nothing but partiers and troublemakers. In other words, your usual crowd.
There are some exceptions to these guests, however. People you’ve seen around campus, student athletes with a scholarship and business majors that have already found themselves internships to the companies others in the room are a part of— and it seems that no matter how much everyone here tries to pretend and deny, they can never really separate their personal lives from the responsibilities passed down to them at birth.
Your first instinct is to beeline it to the kitchen; in other words, to the makeshift bar Yunjin always sets up, an impressive display of alcohol and even a hired bartender making drinks left and right— you immediately ask for two jello shots, something Yunjin always made for herself and in extension, you, not in the mood for anything stronger as you opt to get this nervous energy out of you instead; you proceed to get two more a second after, just out of habit.
You should find Yunjin; let her know you’re here, make sure she doesn’t try to scold and bitch at you for promising to go to her party only to end up ditching— you’re sure she’d never believe you unless she saw you with her own eyes.
The kitchen is empty. The makeshift dance floor seems to be empty as well, spending a few minutes scouring the place and shrugging off any passing advances; with a heavy sigh, you decide that you should check upstairs, just in case, ready to make your way up before a rough hand is grabbing at your elbow and tugging you back; the smell of alcohol greets you before Yunjin can.
“You actually came!” Yunjin yells over the music, her face flushed from the alcohol and her balance off as she stumbles slightly; you make a quick move to catch her, eyes drifting down before you’re catching sight of the uncomfortable heels she dons— meeting her gaze once more, she pouts.
“I don’t even know why I wore these,” she groans, running a hand through her auburn hair, watching the way it falls back into place perfectly— she then proceeds to scan over your own outfit, letting out a sound of awe as she smiles, “you look great! Pretty as always.”
She’s muttering something else, but you can’t really hear it over the sound of the music; eventually, you find your eyes drifting away to the dancefloor, wondering if there’s anyone else you could recognize— your eyes lock with a particular, infamous athlete’s, one that you’ve been dying to get with since the beginning of the semester— and you’re suddenly thankful for the buzz the jello shots provided you, Yunjin eventually following your gaze and cheering at the realization of what you were planning.
She’s pushing you forward before you can even think things through; the man with dark hair simply smiles at you, coy eyes beckoning you closer— and with a deep breath, you decide to let go of any worries you had and go back to being your airheaded, carefree self— even if just for a moment.
“Hey,” he says simply, a hand going to rest on your waist; the music is much too loud for you to converse properly, but you don’t really seem to mind as you allow yourself to get lost in the rhythm instead— that, and because your tipsy brain has forgotten his name, and the low lights that obscure his face aren’t exactly helping either.
But it seems as though he was thinking the exact thing; he’s leaning down to ask the exact question you were wondering into your ear, deep voice and pouty lips that brush against the shell of your ear making you shiver— you’re muttering your name into his ear, tilting your head toward him to allow him to do the same.
Yeonjun. Your head seems to clear for the moment.
“Looks like we finally meet,” he grins, still close to your face in order for you to be able to hear him; your face twists up in confusion, and he laughs softly before continuing. “You’re just as pretty as I’ve been told— my friend talks a lot about you. You’re trouble, hmm?”
“Your friend?” is all you can say in response, placing a hand against his chest and leaning in closer, the music muddling his words slightly; his hand continues to hold you steady, and the two of you continue to sway to the rhythm.
“Yeah,” he laughs, staring at your face that’s twisted up in obvious confusion, “My roommate, Beomgyu? I heard he tutored you for a bit.”
His name is enough to clear your head entirely, as though a bucket of ice water has been poured over your body and drenched your figure.
“He— he told you about me?” you ask, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so pathetic, for feeling so curious as you stare at Yeonjun with undeniably hopeful eyes; instead, all you get is another amused laugh from him.
“Are you kidding? You practically traumatized him!” he jokes, though you don’t find yourself laughing along to that, lips twitching and a frown threatening to take over your features, “You’d think he was scared of you from the way he talked about you.”
You don’t respond to that; you’re not sure how you would respond to that anyway, letting out a weak laugh and falling silent as you look over his shoulder and fall back into the beat of the song— but it seems as though Yeonjun is too drunk, and frankly, unaware to take in your reaction, because he’s leaning into your ear and murmuring words that strike the final blow into your heart.
“He’s here, actually— Yunjin and him really seem to be hitting it off. Didn’t think he had it in him”
You chose to bite your tongue, biting back a bitter comment about how he really doesn’t have it in him to woo someone like Yunjin. But Yeonjun is too amused by his own comment to pick up on the sudden sourness of your mood, mouthing the lyrics to whatever’s playing and guiding your hips with a hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he sends you a wink. But you’re too shaken by this sudden news that you no longer feel the need to play along, much less try to hook up with him tonight. Now that you think about it, the once superficially important goal of chasing after the athlete before you had been pushed down the list of your priorities long, long ago.
“‘M gonna get a drink,” you mutter miserably, pushing against Yeonjun’s chest and ignoring the way he immediately begins to complain, untangling yourself from his grip as you leave with one final, half-hearted sorry!
Screw jello-shots, you think to yourself, stumbling back to the kitchen with sore feet, I need something stronger.
Something stronger comes in the form of a mysterious drink you let the bartender make for you; you didn’t exactly keep track of the ingredients he listed off to you, simply nodding instead when he asked if that’s what you wanted— if you think it’s strong enough, you replied with a smile, choosing to ignore the hesitant nod he gave you in return.
The speed at which you downed the drink was enough to have the bartender at your side with a water and a warning look— you ignored it, of course, drinking the water with a slight pout, only bothering to drink half before you were back to the dancefloor; maybe you could distract yourself with Yeonjun for a while, you think.
But any plans to track down the said man come to a glaring halt the moment you’re stepping out the kitchen; your eyes widen, surprised expression mirroring Hueningkai’s as he stands before you— his eyes scan over your figure, running back up and stopping at your hazed eyes and flushed face, the slight sway in your movement helping everything click in his mind; you’re a few drinks away from getting utterly wasted, and it seems as though that’s the path you’re getting ready to take.
“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Hueningkai says, watching your face scrunch in confusion, taking a step forward to hear him better, “Thought you’d be too busy doing another study date to come.”
“Shut up,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and scoffing at the implications of his words, “And why do you care? I’m surprised you’re not fucking a random girl in Yunjin’s bathroom right now.”
“I tried,” Hueningkai rolls his eyes, smiling in that obnoxiously smug way as he watches you frown. He leans in, placing a hand on the doorway and above your head as he reaches out to grab your waist; tugging you close to him, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he mumbles quietly, “but she wasn’t anywhere as good as you.”
“You’re gross,” you glare, leaning back as you let your lips upturn in disgust, already knowing what he’s implying— asking of you— with a simple look at his face. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Are you still mad?” Hueningkai asks, beginning his chase even after you’ve successfully escaped his clutches, ignoring him with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms and make your way out to the living room, “you never even told me what was wrong, you just ran away and kept bitching at me.”
You huff; it doesn’t seem like Hueningkai will give up anytime soon, so you’re whirling around and sending him a pointed glare as you finally give him the closure he so desperately keeps asking for.
“I did tell you what was wrong,” you start, clenching your jaw at the way he immediately opens his mouth to refute that, “you treat me like nothing more than a fuck buddy, acting as though we weren’t actually friends before that! All you do is make me feel worthless, then you have the audacity to turn around and play the victim?! Like seriously, Hueningkai, is this all you see me as? A body to fuck?”
Hueningkai began asking you to keep it down the moment you felt yourself get riled up; volume rising, face heating up, you ignored him, ignored the odd looks you got from others, deciding that since the man before you wanted to hear your thoughts so badly, you’d let it all out.
“We used to be friends. We grew up together!” you say, feeling ridiculous for continuing to grieve the past, the days where things weren’t so complicated and all you felt for Hueningkai was a harmless crush. “I can’t believe I let you use me like this, just because I thought I liked— god, I’m so stupid.”
You don’t give him a chance to retaliate; you’re turning around and ready to weave your way through the faceless people and go outside, only making it halfway before Hueningkai is grabbing at your elbow and asking you to wait. His persistence garners yet another roll of your eyes.
“You what? Hang on, what was that last part?” he asks, trailing behind you and desperately asking for an answer— because of course he would hone in on that part. You continue to ignore him, tugging your arm out his hold and beginning to push through the crowd at the dancefloor— seriously, how many people did Yunjin invite? You seem to have severely underestimated the capacity of this place.
“You— did you like me? Do you like me?” Hueningkai’s last attempts to get something, anything from you are childish and do nothing but make your stomach churn, “Come on, we can talk this out, be mature about it— I can fix things, I can make it up to, yeah? Hey, don’t bail on me now—”
“Enough!” you yell, getting yet another round of side glances and strange looks from others; listening in like always, pretending horribly to be ignorant to it all.
You’re right before the doorway; so close, yet you know that if you leave now, Hueningkai will continue to follow and pester you— so as horrible as the timing is, you realize with a heavy feeling that now is your chance to do what you’ve been debating on for so long.
“Please, I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say, your words weak as you look right into his eyes— and everything surfaces into your mind once more, the innocent hope you once had of stealing his heart one day, “Let’s just end this— everything.”
The words feel familiar on your tongue, only this time, you realize that this is the person you should’ve directed this message to in the first place.
“We don’t know each other,” you say, jaw clenched at the way it takes Hueningkai a second to process things due to the music that tries to drown you out— you still catch onto the exact moment where it all registers in his head, eyes widening and mouth opening to protest— but you beat him to it, not giving him another opportunity to try and haphazardly fix thing, albeit momentarily. Your eyes meet his, and your heart wrenches upon seeing that he’s more annoyed than hurt.
“Don’t talk to me— we’re strangers now.”
The final blow is like a weight that is immediately taken off your shoulders; you reach to open the door and slip out. This time, Hueningkai doesn’t follow.
The air is cool on your face and a nice contrast to the stuffy air inside the house. Slowly, you make your way to the corner of the porch fence, stumbling over due to the soreness of your feet and the alcohol that still runs through your system. So many emotions course through you, seemingly wanting to bring about a wave of nostalgia and sadness, lingering feelings for the man you’ve just let behind— but you won’t allow yourself to cry over him, scoffing instead at the way you allowed yourself to foolishly bend over backwards for him for so long.
“Wow,” you hear a voice say, not bothering to look back as you immediately recognize who it is; Yunjin joins you, leaning against the fence and craning her head forward to properly survey you— you don’t bother looking at her, even more so when she finally continues,“That was harsh back there.”
You sigh. Because of course Yunjin heard that, and of course she’s the one to bring it up immediately after.
“Didn’t think you’d actually cut him off— I thought you’d always be like, head over heels, hopelessly in love with him— like a little girl, you know? You never seemed to grow out of him.” You glare at her, but continue to remain silent; she laughs, throwing her head back at the sight, only to wobble back slightly from the sudden motion.
“Oh come onnnnn, you know it’s true!” she coos, proceeding to poke at you teasingly and twist her voice to sound like you, “Huening called me pretty. Huening bought me the purse I really wanted. Huening wants me to go with him to dinner with his parents. Huening Huening Huening—!”
Her laugh is obnoxious, even after you’ve hissed at her to be quiet; she continues to mock you under her breath, drunkenly quoting things she overheard from your outburst, and you realize with a disappointed sigh that she definitely won’t be stopping soon.
“Heyyy, don’t get all sensitive on me now!” she whines, grabbing your hand and tugging you back when you attempt to leave; it doesn’t work, and you merely tug yourself out her grip, not even bothering to respond to her cries to stay.
Yunjin pauses her dramatics the moment you’re turning and leaving, scoffing at the way she offhandedly apologizes, words slurring together as she says that she’s sorry if you feel offended! You’re shaking your head at that, making your way back to where the stairs are, glancing back at the home one last time— and you’re freezing for a second when you meet Beomgyu’s gaze, the boy wide eyed and awkward as he stands at the doorway. Behind you, Yunjin cheers drunkenly.
“Beomie! Hey, could you tell her to stop being so dramatic? Like come on, I’m just trying to have fun,” Yunjin’s rambles are left unacknowledged by you both, and you finally find strength within you to walk away after a second; it’s not like you and Beomgyu had anything to talk about, anyway.
Behind you, Yunjin calls for Beomgyu to go to her and give her attention; her pleas fade from your ears and you’ve finally made it onto the beach, pulling out your phone and fumbling through your contacts before you’re finally ordering an Uber to pick you up instead— it was too late in the night for you to bother your driver.
The closest driver will be here in fifteen minutes; you’ll spend those fifteen minutes sitting before the ocean, clothes riddled with sand and body still sobering up slowly, your shoes placed to the side as you dip your legs into the water— fifteen minutes of silence, allowing you to ponder if these people are really the ones you’ve chosen to affiliate with for half your life.
You’ve become so entranced with the white noise of the waves that you couldn’t pick up on the approaching footsteps of another; it isn’t until the said person is sitting at your side that you’re finally snapping out of your trance.
Beomgyu settles down beside you without a word. You watch him for a second, taking in his appearance— he must’ve been dragged here, if anything, his attire not straying from the usual sweaters and jeans— and you look away, staring back out into the horizon as silence continues to drag down between the two of you.
“You’re not sensitive,” Beomgyu suddenly says, his voice so quiet and hesitant you almost missed it, “Or dramatic.”
You laugh humorlessly.
“I know.”
“You deserve to feel wanted,” Beomgyu adds, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, taking in your troubled expression and distant gaze, “...And, your friends are all assholes.”
“...I know.”
It’s quiet. You’re staring down at your feet, at the waves that slowly make their way up your shins before they retreat. Tonight made everything clearer than ever— why did you ever bother to associate with those people? Family and social status was the answer, but as you sit on the beach and away from the rowdy, ruthless crowd, you realize that you feel much more comfortable where you are.
“No one ever takes me seriously,” you say suddenly, staring at the ground and tracing shapes into the sand, “I mean, I never really gave them reason to; it was all just fun and games at first— since I was a girl, I mean. Everyone thought that because I was so obsessed with superficial things that I just didn’t have anything going on in my head, and I guess that was enough to let me become a joke to everyone. A pretty airhead who just thinks about makeup and clothes and purses.”
“I mean, I worked hard to get to where I’m at, y’know? There’s more to me than just that. I won’t deny that my parents and their wealth helped get me a lot, and I certainly won’t deny that I seriously slacked this semester, but I— I don’t know, I just wish people wouldn’t take the shit I say and do like an absolute cosmic joke sometimes; that everyone I know and surrounded myself with wasn’t so superficial and fake.”
Your mouth just began running without you realizing it, forcing you to spill everything that’s been weighing on your mind; you don’t even bother stopping yourself, refusing to glance at the boy beside you as you continue.
“And you wanna know what the worst part is? For a while, I started to believe what they thought of me, started to play into it if it meant them… liking me more. Ugh, that sounds so pathetic, seriously. I need to get it together.” You roll your eyes, tossing your head back as you scold yourself midway through your rambling, “I thought that if I acted all cute and stupid, if I just molded myself into what they liked, they… he would choose me. Would decide to keep me around for more than just a fuck. Would reciprocate years and years of pining and pretending to be cool with him fucking around with other people— all while he got all sulky if I even mentioned other guys.”
Silence. You go quiet for a moment, hand stilling for a moment, brows knitting together as you stare at the mess you’ve made in the sand; Beomgyu opens his mouth to say something, but is swiftly cut off by the sight of you sitting up straight abruptly.
“But I’m worth more than that, y’know? I deserve to have someone take it slow with me, to like me for who I am, to really take me seriously. Even if I act ridiculous sometimes.” You sigh, your lips twitching in a soft smile as you finally look up from the mess in the sand and at Beomgyu; his eyes meet yours, doe-like and wide as always. You laugh at his expression, and his face heats up at the sight.
“God, I’ve been really insufferable, huh?” you laugh, looking away from him the moment you felt your heart beating a bit faster, “I just never shut up, I’ve been told it’s really annoying— I didn’t mean to dump that all on you like that.”
“It’s alright,” Beomgyu says hastily, biting at his lip and averting your gaze as he continues, “I like listening to you talk.”
Your eyes widen and his words echo through your mind, bouncing off the walls and repeating the message over and over. I like listening to you talk.
Your mind seems to have entirely blanked out at that; how do you even respond? All you know is that your body seems to heat up entirely after a second, shivers running through your spine as you attempt miserably to find something to say, something that’ll probably shatter the mood entirely— but you can’t, and you’re stuck in a silence that grows tense as minutes pass.
The ding of a notification sounds from your phone; the two of you are looking down at the screen that lights up, and you immediately scramble to leave the moment you read that your car is here.
“I— I have to go,” you say lamely, wincing at your accidental stutter; you don’t give Beomgyu a chance to say anything more, wiping the sand off your clothes and giving him a half-hearted wave goodbye. “See ya.”
If anyone accused you of running away like a coward, you wouldn’t even bother to deny such claims— because it’s true, and you all but sprint away in order to get out of Beomgyu’s sight, eyes frantically sweeping over the street until you finally spot your Uber, sending a small wave and getting inside quickly.
“Sorry about the mess,” you say sheepishly, glancing down at your shoes that tracked in remnants of sand; slowly, the car begins to move, and you’re staring out the window and watching Yunjin’s beach house pass by— in the very distance, your eyes catch onto Beomgyu, who remains sitting still by the shore.
Your mind echoes his words to you, and you’re failing miserably to push down the way your stomach seems to be filled with a flurry of butterflies, the way your face heats up and a smile threatens to break through your face.
Fuck, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you’ve only felt something this intense one other instance, many years ago.
Fuck.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
It’s been a few weeks since Yunjin’s party; a few weeks since you stopped talking to her, a few weeks since you dropped all your snobby friends you only made for connections, a few weeks since you finally broke things off with Hueningkai.
A few weeks since you realized that you might see Beomgyu as more than just a nerdy, pathetic loser.
You’ve found that you have a lot more free time these days; now that you’re no longer worried about attending worthless cocktail parties or going golfing to help Yunjin impress a CEO’s son who she’s had her eye on for days, you’ve found that your life has become a lot more peaceful— or rather, boring.
Your social life is nonexistent; what else did you expect, after cutting off practically everyone you knew? You’ve become a homebody, much more focused on your work and finding more mundane hobbies— your grades have never looked better.
Avoiding Yunjin and anyone associated with her was simple; it was nothing, passing by her and pretending like you two never knew each other, like the two of you weren’t once attached by the hip. It never phased you to be in the same room as her, not even batting an eye when she found herself sitting a table away from you in the dining halls.
You just wish you could say the same about Beomgyu.
God, what the hell has gotten into you? You’ve become a fumbling, ridiculous mess, not even able to look him in the eye when you spot him in the halls, in the library, in cafes; your body heats up and words get stuck in your throat whenever he’s so much as close in proximity, always finding a way to flee as soon as possible— you don’t even bother being inconspicuous anymore.
It was apparent to anyone who knew you that this behavior was a complete switch from your usual self— cocky, flirty, bold— and Beomgyu, who had to spend hours on end with you, knew that better than anyone.
He’s able to spot your odd behavior immediately. Though unfortunately for him, he’s unable to come to a proper conclusion as to why you may be acting like that, and simply decides that you must be holding up your promise still; the promise to act like complete strangers, that is.
Beomgyu frowns, staring at your back as you stand in line at the cafe across the campus library; you’re rigid, as though turning around and acknowledging the man behind you could kill you. Did you really hate him that much? He thought he made progress back at Yunjin’s party, your moment of vulnerability allowing him to see you in a completely new light— because after a moment of thought, after you fled the scene with an awkward wave and an empty smile, Beomgyu began to think; he really didn’t know anything about you. He didn’t even know your major.
All he knew about you were superficial things— and Beomgyu found himself oddly irritated by the thought, wondering if he was any better than the very people you were complaining about; it weighed his mind, finding himself prattling off to Yeonjun about it one day, laying on the couch and petting Toto absentmindedly as he stared up at the ceiling.
“She’s an architecture major,” Yeonjun said from the kitchen, looking up from the stove and meeting Beomgyu’s surprised gaze, “Yunjin told me once that she’s been working to try and get an internship at her father’s company— starting from the bottom up and everything. Heard it’s super competitive over there.”
You were a lot more hardworking and studious than Beomgyu— or anyone, really— gave you credit for. And as he watched you recite your order to the cashier, something so convoluted that the boy wondered if it was even good, he found himself wanting to learn more about you. You stood off to the side, staring down at your phone with a concentrated pout, and he wondered if he should bite the bullet and finally attempt talking to you.
Just as Beomgyu was mustering up the courage to say something, just as he was about to open his mouth, your name was called and you picked up your drink with a swiftness he’s never seen before, making your way out and passing Beomgyu in the blink of an eye. He’s left waiting for his drink long after, snapped out of his reverie by a text notification.
Huh Yunjin:
im at the library rn r u coming ??
dont keep me waiting :(
Beomgyu sighs, and trudges his way to the library with a pout; the feeling is reminiscent, but he can’t help but find himself thinking that it was you he was studying with instead. He spots Yunjin’s bright head of orange hair instantly, eyes glued to her phone and brows knitted together in a soft frown— and though Beomgyu apologized for being late and asked her to start without him, she didn’t seem to bother to even get her materials out.
Internally, Beomgyu finds himself rolling his eyes— But he’s masking that with a soft clear of his throat, his calm voice asking Yunjin to get her textbook out so they can start their session— and she finally looks up from her phone, bright eyes filled with confusion before she smiles sheepishly.
“Oh right, the textbooks,” she murmurs, looking over at the seat next to her where she’s placed her bag, then across where Beomgyu sits; his eyes widen at the sight of her collecting her things, standing up and rounding the table before she sits next to him— before he can question what he’s doing, she scoots her chair closer to him, shoulders touching as she sends him an innocent smile. “I… forgot mine… you don’t mind if we share, right? You said you took this class last semester.”
Beomgyu can’t contain the way he lets out an exasperated breath; he pulls out his laptop, pulling up his digital copy as he mentally complains about how unprepared and demanding Yunjin always seemed to be— he can’t remember the last time she actually brought her own supplies; if anything, Beomgyu was sure she hadn’t even bought her required texts.
And as he scrolls through the index in search of the needed chapter, he feels Yunjin leaning in closer; all under the guise of seeing the screen better, but Beomgyu knows better than to believe that her intentions are all innocent. And despite Beomgyu’s multiple attempts to scoot away from her, he quickly finds himself trapped by the girl again, frowning at the way she laughs at everything little thing he says and tugs at his sleeve when she’s confused about something.
For a moment, Beomgyu wonders if she might actually be hitting on him— but he soon catches onto the way she peeks over his screen after each attempt to be touchy, how she glances in the same direction after every soft coo of that same nickname that makes him wince— and he follows the path of her gaze eventually, not entirely surprised at what he sees; if anything, it helps everything click together.
Beomgyu spots you sitting two tables away, face twisted up in concentration and headphones obstructing your ears, head bobbing rhythmically as you scribble things on your notebook, glancing back at your laptop’s screen ever so often; he catches sight of numbers and equations, and he realizes that you must be working on math homework.
Without realizing, he’s found himself staring at you; this side of you that he never saw much, private and calm and hardworking, the image you said you wished others saw in you— and, as though you could feel it, you’re looking up from your work, meeting Beomgyu’s eyes instantly and watching as he flusters and looks away; your eyes then fall onto the girl who has him backed into the corner of the table, who leans into him and glances over you with a slight quirk of her lips— she sends you a small wave, then turns back to Beomgyu, calling out his name softly.
Undeniably curious, you lower the volume of your music slightly— you didn’t expect Yunjin to actually go through with her plans of getting Beomgyu to tutor her, and much less her lasting this long— you’re bringing up a hand to your head as subtly as you can, moving the right side of your headphone away from your ear slightly and allowing yourself to listen in to whatever it is they talk about.
While Beomgyu attempts multiple times to tutor her and teach her materials, Yunjin can’t seem to stop steering away in a completely different direction; asking him entirely unrelated questions, blatantly flirting and acting coy as she pulls at his sweater everytime he seems hesitant to answer— the sight is slightly amusing, but you can’t deny the way it makes you wince with annoyance.
“Today’s your day off, right?” Yunjin asks eventually, smiling widely when he nods, albeit hesitantly, “Great! You know how you said you’d take me to dinner if I got a good score on my test?”
You hear the sound of Yunjin’s nails clicking against a screen; undoubtedly searching for something, the soft mutters of Beomgyu’s you were the one who struck up the deal, making you bite your tongue in a desperate attempt to remain inconspicuous; from the corner of your eye, you’re able to catch the way the said boy glances over at you.
“Well… ta-da!” Yunjin squeals happily as she shoves the phone into Beomgyu’s face, allowing him to see her results for the said test. Beomgyu hums absentmindedly at the sight.
“Your place at seven?” Yunjin grins, poking his shoulder teasingly; Beomgyu doesn’t answer, but she chooses to take that silence as a yes. “Great! I have to go actually; promised my girls I’d have brunch with them— you understand, right?”
Instead of fumbling with his words and asking her to not leave so abruptly, Beomgyu simply nods and hums a soft uh-huh. The sight is enough to have Yunjin scoffing, slinging her purse on her shoulder and reaching over to grab Beomgyu’s chin— she tugs it and makes him face her, the action so sudden that his eyes widen drastically— and she smiles, squishing his cheeks teasingly and pouting at his distant behavior.
“Don’t get all pouty with me— I’ll see you soon ‘kay?” before Beomgyu can even process anything, Yunjin leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling her lipstick transfer onto his skin— he’s slightly dazed, reaching up immediately to place a hand over the spot, staring at Yunjin with furrowed brows; she simply laughs and waves at him one final time, practically skipping out from how giddy she seemed.
From a distance, you watch Beomgyu quietly reach for his bag, his expression blank as he pulls out a tissue and his phone; you watch him use his front camera as a mirror, wiping at the lipstick with a soft frown.
From a distance, you laugh to yourself— the distaste that appears on his face is obvious to you, and you can’t help but shake your head at Yunjin’s ridiculous behavior; god, was that what you looked like whenever you would bail on him mid-session? The very thought was terribly humbling to you.
Yunjin’s attempts to get back at you by using Beomgyu were more than obvious; you think back to her actions, the way she blatantly flirted with him, the plans she suddenly tacked on him— on his day off, not to mention— and you roll your eyes, deciding that you might as well put an end to all these dramatics; not just for your sake, but for Beomgyu’s as well.
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥
Beomgyu is groaning to himself the moment he hears a sharp knock on his door— the last thing he wanted to do on his day off was spend his time entertaining a girl who was clearly using him for some odd, petty reasons— but he got ready nonetheless, texted Yunjin his address hours prior after being told that her driver would come pick him up, (he hadn’t gotten a response in relation to that message, but she’ll probably see it soon) and waited patiently on the couch, albeit much earlier than the proposed plans.
Another sharp knock— Beomgyu wishes he had some proper excuse for her, told her that he already had plans with his roommate, but the said man was off on his shift already— he trudges over to the door, twisting the doorknob with a heavy reluctance, and sighs. He braces himself as he swings open the door to greet Yunjin with a halfhearted smile.
“Hey,” you pant instead, leaning against the doorway and ignoring his confused— and shocked— expression, “I— am I late? I thought I was early, did you get ready early?”
You gulp; since when could Beomgyu clean up so nicely? He’s forgone his usual, comfortable and casual outfits in favor of a perfectly pressed button up and a clean hairstyle— Yunjin must’ve planned to take him to quite the expensive place, you think to yourself.
“Of course you’d be the type to get ready an hour early,” you mutter bitterly to yourself, the comment enough to have the said man glancing at the nearest clock in confusion— and just like you said, a bright six o’clock greeted him on the digital clock.
“You— what’re you doing here?” Beomgyu stutters pathetically, unable to do much but relent to the way you step inside, closing the door behind him and turning around to face you, “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”
“Yeah well, I lied.” you simply say, the words confusing the poor man even more, “I came to tell you to cancel your plans with Yunjin.”
“Can— huh?” he searches your expression for the traces of a joke, but finds that you’re dead serious. “Why would I cancel? That’s rude.”
“Jesus, can’t you see?!” You say exasperatedly, reaching out to place your hands on Beomgyu’s shoulders, fingers digging in so he can look at you— it’s only when he finally does that you continue. “She doesn’t want to do this— she’s using you. She’s doing this to get back at me.”
“But why would she…” Beomgyu utters, and you wonder with a roll of your eyes where that boy genius of yours went.
“Beomgyu,” you start, the sound foreign to the said boys ears as he blinks at you owlishly. You bite at your lip, brows furrowing at you think over what to say— you start again, but your words are hesitant and muddled. “She’s using you because she’s petty and because… because…”
He gives you a look encouraging you to continue.
“Because— god, are you really gonna make me say this?!” you break, letting go of his shoulders and taking a step back— your face feels like it’s on fire and your stomach feels like it’s been twisted into knots, your hands clammy as you glance over at Beomgyu again— and he looks at you with the most stupid, oblivious expression known to mankind.
You take a quick, deep breath, and you start again.
“Choi Beomgyu. She’s using you because I…” you say sternly, reaching over suddenly to grab his face, cupping his cheeks and taking in the way he becomes red at your touch. You bring him close to you, pressing your lips in a fine line and hesitating before you observe his face— and god, he looks so pathetic and lost that you don’t even seem to mind the way the next words tumble out of you, fluid and clear and true.
“Because I like you.”
Silence. You’re waiting anxiously in response, looking into Beomgyu’s eyes in anticipation, but all he does is stare. He stares and stares and stares, and for the first time in a while, you’re unsure of what to make of this reaction.
“And I’m not lying either.”
Still nothing. His skin is warming up under your fingertips, and his mouth opens hesitantly to say something, only to close again— he must still doubt you, so you decide to take a leap of faith and reassure him the only way you know how.
“I think you’re cute and kinda pathetic in an endearing way, I think that those glasses really compliment your face and make your eyes look super doll-like, and I don’t really mind Toto. I think he’s still a bit weird to look at but I love that you love him, and it makes total sense to me that out of all the pets you could’ve had you decided to get a big freaky green bird of all things, and I think it’s super cute that you’re attached to him— I think you look kinda hot when you get frustrated on a problem, and I think it’s really hard to hold myself back from kissing you when you start stuttering at me like an idiot— also, it’s really not that bad that you play League of Legends, and I can’t believe I’m gonna admit this, but I started playing it myself and it’s not that bad— but that’s not the point, what I’m saying is that you’re— you’re a nerd and a loser but I don’t mind because I really— fuck, I really like—”
His lips are mashing onto yours before you can process his sudden movement, rough and sloppy and desperate that all you can do is slide your hands into his hair and pull him closer; his hands wrap around you in response, one on the small of your back and the other against the back of your head as he pulls you closer still, close until your bodies are pressed flush together.
The two of you are so rough with your movements that he’s stumbling back, knocking against the wall and groaning softly at the impact; you’re sneaking your tongue into his parted lips, listening to the way he pants and moans against your mouth, slotting a leg between his and feeling as his thigh is quick to retaliate and press against your core.
“Mghh– ugh, fuck,” you moan mindlessly, feeling his hand press against the small of your back, forcing you to arch and push your weight onto his strong muscle, allowing yourself to rock against it desperately; your mind is running a million miles an hour, pulling away from his lips breathlessly and staring at the gloss that has transferred onto him; his eyes look dazed, lips parted and in need for more as he tries to lead your head back to his.
“Can’t believe she tried to use you against me,” you mutter, going back in to press quick, chaste kisses all along his face; he curls in shyly at the gesture, weakly grasping at your clothes as he feels the way you begin to trail them along his jaw, sucking and biting until you’re seeing the beginnings of marks that will bloom there, “shame it didn’t work— cause you’re all mine, right gyu?”
Like clockwork, he nods; his face heats up and he feels a bit ashamed at how quickly he’s melted under your hold, but any embarrassment is washed away the moment he feels your hand begin to fumble with his belt, clumsily undoing it before you’re moving to undo his jeans.
“Wait,” you breathe against his neck, feeling him shiver softly; he’s confused, whining softly at the sudden loss of touch until he’s watching as you pull away, glancing behind your shoulder before you’re meeting his eyes with a blank expression, “take me to your room.”
For a second, he’s confused about the sudden switch of your behavior— but then he’s looking over your shoulder and right at the direction you glanced at, a sudden laugh breaking through him when he spots Toto in the corner; sheepishly, he nods.
“Okay,” he says, smiling shyly at the way you reach out for the hand placed on the small of your back, intertwining your fingers so naturally it’s almost instinct, “yeah, okay. Let’s go.”
He watches you kick off your shoes and allows you to lead him straight to his room— he’s surprised you even remembered where it is— and smiles at the way you tug him closer by the collar the moment you step inside, palms pressing flat on his chest and making him walk backwards until his knees are hitting the edge of the bed— he falls back, hair splaying prettily on his sheets as he looks up at you with expectant, adoring eyes.
You’re straddling him immediately after; planting your core directly on his prominent bulge, taking in the way he lets out a broken whimper at the feeling of your heat pressing against him so well— his hands fly to your waist, fingers weakly digging into the meat of your hips as he attempts to subtly buck up into you; you tsk, shaking your head and leaning down to place a hand firm on his chest.
“Bad pup,” you say softly, hovering above his lips and watching as he desperately chases them, “You need to be patient, okay?”
He nods frantically, eyes fluttering shut the moment you press your lips against him slowly, feeling the way he desperately seeks to taste you— you allow him to, wandering hands beginning to unbutton his pristine white shirt slowly as he remains distracted.
Beomgyu is a lot more fit than you expected; lean muscle greeting you the moment you slip his shirt off his shoulders, leaning up to let him take it off and raking your nails down his skin— his stomach flinches at your nails scratch at it, and you smile childishly at the sight, the action reminiscent to the first time you got your hands on him.
“So pretty…” you mumble to yourself, tracing a path along his chest, down to his navel, watching as he shivers at your touch; a shaky gasp escapes his lips, hands grabbing at his sheets and eyes fluttering shut as he fights back the urge to buck up into you again— your eyes flicker up to study his expression, titling your head curiously as a smile tugs at your lips.
“You’re so pretty, Beomgyu,” you say again, leaning down to plant soft kisses along his neck, beginning to trail down until you’re at his chest— you’re able to watch the way his skin flushes a soft pink at your words, shy gaze averting quickly the moment you’re looking back up at him— and you laugh softly to yourself, hovering over his lap and trailing a hand down as you begin to undo his pants with ease.
“Y’know, I’ve never seen you so dressed up before,” you comment offhandedly, taking a moment to observe his pristine clothes, his styled hair— and your jaw clenches at the thought of Yunjin seeing him like this, an inkling of jealousy beginning to rear its ugly head the longer you think about it; you’re tugging at his pants, watching as his hips lift to help you tug them down more, and scoff at your wandering thoughts.
“Bet you would’ve loved to have her attention on you, hmm?” you say, beginning to roll your hips against his the moment he opens his mouth to protest— a sharp moan leaves Beomgyu instead, mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt grinding against his, the only thing separating the two of you being your thin panties and his boxers that are quickly becoming ruined; his eyes flicker down to where you continue to roll your hips, the sight of your skirt riding up and bunching up at your thighs enough to have his cock twitch.
“Just can’t control yourself when you’re with a cute girl— just can’t say no,” Beomgyu’s hips jump and he lets out a long whine at a particularly harsh roll of your hips, feeling his cock slot perfectly against your cunt, the material of your panties soaked and sticking to your pussy, able to feel you better the more pressure you add; his hands fly to your hips once more, but instead of trying to guide your pace, they simply remain there, grabbing at your skirt and fisting the material in his hands, flushed face and shining eyes begging silently for more.
“No— can’t, can’t say no— ah!” Beomgyu begins, unable to speak properly with the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of your warm cunt on his aching cock, “can’t say no to you… fuck…”
His words are enough to catch you off guard; your pace is stuttering and your eyes are widening, the brief pause enough to give Beomgyu enough confidence to continue— his eyes are glassy as he stares up at you, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles on your hips as he speaks.
“Could never say no to you…” he says softly, face reddening as he continues, “you’re too pretty to say no to.”
He doesn’t quite meet your gaze after that; he’s too shy to, but with the way you immediately begin to undress before him after a moment, he’s sure that he must’ve flipped a switch inside you.
“God, you’re so cute…” you mutter, throwing your shirt off in a random direction before you’re sliding your skirt off— and Beomgyu is growing flustered at the sight again, practically malfunctioning from seeing your body for the first time.
You’re left in only your underwear when you finally decide you’ve had enough of his shyness, grabbing his face with a firm hand and turning it to look back at you; your nails dig into his plush cheeks and his eyes grow wide at the gesture, meeting your eyes as you simply give him a coy smile and a peck to his lips.
“So pathetic too,” you continue, watching his adam’s apple bob at your condescending words, “I love it.”
You lean close to his ear; slowly, you take his hands and begin guiding them along your body, feeling the way his breath hitches and his chest begins to take shallow breaths, shaky fingertips grazing against your skin, up your biceps until you’re leading him to your back, straight to your bra strap.
“Undo it,” you murmur against the shell of his ear, able to listen to the way he gulps softly; nervous hands fiddle with the clasp, the way you place chaste kisses to the spot behind his ear not helping in the slightest— and after a moment, you’re finally able to feel the garment loosening around you, along with a soft sigh the boy lets out.
The straps slip off your shoulders slowly, and with a coy smile, you make a show of discarding your bra, sitting back and watching as Beomgyu’s face turns impossibly red; his eyes are wide and his hands are frozen, unsure of what to do as you simply huff at the sight— and your hands are taking his once more, guiding them slowly until he’s cupping your breasts; he gulps again, and you pout at the sight.
“Don’t you wanna touch me?” you pout, tilting your head and watching as the man underneath you remains reliant on your instructions to do anything; his eyes snap back up to meet yours at your words, shaking his head softly and opening his mouth to stutter protests.
“I– I do, I do,” he says, licking his lips nervously before looking back down at your breasts, thumbs experimentally swiping across your nipples; you shiver at the feeling, the sight of even your smallest reactions making Beomgyu’s cock ache, “I just… I’m not sure what to do….what you’d like.”
“It’s okay,” you immediately say, absentmindedly guiding his hands to touch and caress your breasts just how you like, your back aching slightly at the stimulation, “I can teach you.”
“Please,” Beomgyu whines out, hands finally beginning to move on their own as a smile grows on your face, watching the way looks at you with needy, fucked out eyes, “Please, wanna make you feel good.”
“Do you now?” you tease, titling your head and raising a brow at him questioningly; he nods his head fervently, eyes filled with an undeniably desire that leads him to take your body in hungrily, trailing from your chest down until he stops right at your cunt thats pressed so perfectly against him.
His line of sight is terribly obvious— though you don’t think it was Beomgyu’s intention to hide his desires anyway, not with the way your back is suddenly colliding against his bed, a gasp escaping you the moment you feel warm hands prying your legs open; you’re propping yourself up with your elbows, wide eyes meeting Beomgyu’s; the said man kneels on the floor and is now at eye level with your soaked cunt— his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, and with a soft laugh, you realize that Beomgyu is yet again waiting for further instructions.
“Can I taste you?” He asks meekly, eyes shining behind the lenses of his glasses, the sight endearing and a complete switch from the words that leave his mouth, “will you let me?”
Silence— all he gets in response is a slow sigh, the boy peeking through his lashes to get a gauge of your expression; he gulps at the sight of your narrowed eyes and pinched brows, mind undoubtedly thinking of scenarios that sour your mood— but the sight of you like this is much too tempting, and Beomgyu will be damned if he doesn’t get to lose himself in your pussy at least once; his cock pathetically twitches at the mere thought.
“I don’t know puppy,” you murmur, sneering at the way he pouts immediately, strong hands tugging at you and pulling you towards him more, body sliding at the movement— and though you can feel him breathe against your clothed cunt, he still refrains from doing anything, waiting loyally for your okay with pleading eyes.
“Do you think you deserve it?” you ask, throwing a leg over his shoulder, digging the heel of your foot in between his shoulder blades roughly— he practically keens at the feeling, a poorly stifled whimper escaping him, followed by a shaky sigh, “after seeing the way you’ll give anyone who approaches you all your attention like a slut, I don’t think you do.”
You make sure to punctuate your words with another dig of your heel, but Beomgyu remains unaffected— if anything, it manages to spur him on more, and you’re left to pretend as though his next actions don’t leave you terribly weak.
“Please…” he whispers, the sound so soft you barely miss it— he’s pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, lips lingering on the skin before he looks back up to meet your gaze; his eyes are glazed with nothing but need. The single word continues to leave him like a mantra, unable to do anything more than watch as he begins to litter kisses all over your inner thighs, soft begs slowly increasing their intensity the longer you deny him.
I deserve it, I do; please, please let me make you feel good, promise you’re the only one for me— please? Please, please please please…
It’s quiet, save for the sounds of Beomgyu’s broken, repetitive begging— his hair brushes against your sensitive skin that has been peppered with endless kisses, and if it weren’t for the way Beomgyu’s eyes were beginning to become watery from his desperation, you would’ve allowed yourself to enjoy the show a little more.
“You want it that much?” you seethe, a hand going down to tangle itself in his long hair— and, just as expected, he lets out a broken whine, followed with an immediate, breathy “yes” that affects you much more than you let on, “Go on then.”
You’re guiding his head to your cunt without another word, fingers still entangled tightly in the roots of his hair; he begins with a soft kiss to your cunt, the sight making you roll your eyes— for someone so eager, he sure was hesitant.
His tongue is hot and heavy against your clit; he’s running the tip of it along your slit, listening to the hitch of your breath and taking in every miniscule reaction you provide— he’s teasing you, albeit unintentionally, and the realization has you tightening your hold on his roots in warning; you feel the way he lets out a shaky breath at the action, and soon after, his fingers are tugging at the waistband of your panties, making slow work to properly take them off.
Beomgyu’s every movement is feather-like and hesitant; it’s clear he’s testing out the waters, unsure of what to do in order to please you— and while a part of you is endeared at the messy kitten licks of his tongue and the way he circles your clit sloppily, the other part of you seems to be feeling much more unforgiving— you’re tugging his hair and telling him to look at you with a harsh voice.
“What happened to wanting to please me? To deserving this?” you mock, lips quirking to a satisfied smile the moment his face heats up, ears tinting a soft red, “are you too much of a virgin to know how to eat a girl out?”
His face turns a bright red and he remains silent— you can only manage a bewildered laugh at the sight.
Of course, how did you not piece it together before? It seems as though you were much too generous to give him the benefit of the doubt before, because as you stare Beomgyu down with a gaze that’s nothing short of predatory, you’ve realized that his silence tells you more than enough; He’s a total virgin.
“Oh, you don’t know anything, do you?” you coo softly, letting go of Beomgyu’s scalp to caress his face softly, a grin threatening to break through your face from the simple sight of the man melting into your touch, “you need me to guide you through it?”
With a shaky sigh, Beomgyu nods— it barely takes a moment before you’re pushing at the back of his head and guiding him back to your cunt.
He didn’t bother to take off his glasses; you didn’t bother to remind him, smiling cruelly as you murmur soft instructions to him, telling him to suck on your clit or guiding his mouth to lick at your entrance, responding with soft sighs of pleasure whenever he does something particularly well; he’s sloppy, inexperienced, and undeniably nervous, but you suppose he makes up for its with his eagerness to do well as he continues, slowly taking note of what makes your hips buck and your fingers tighten against his hair— and after a few minutes, you’re no longer instructing Beomgyu step by step, but instead throwing your head back and letting your mouth fall open with unabashed moans.
Beomgyu’s eagerness is abundant and blatant. He’s pressing his face against your cunt after having gained confidence, mouth sloppy and hanging open as he allows you to grind against him, feeling his glasses slip down the tall bridge of his nose and fog up with every pant of breath— but he finds that he doesn’t really mind, eyes fluttering shut and lips circling around your clit as he hones in to the sounds you make instead.
You think Beomgyu’s head is completely empty at this point; his fingers dig into your thighs and he continues his attempts to bring you closer against his face, greedy mouth drinking up any arousal that slips from your entrance before he’s fucking you with his tongue— your hips buck unintentionally against him at that, and from the way he only increases his efforts even further, you think he might’ve enjoyed that.
“Beomgyu— puppy, fuck,” you hiss, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the way his nose is now pressed against your clit from how close he’s attempting to get to you. Your chest heaves and you can feel a tight knot forming in your stomach, body beginning to become restless as Beomgyu remains unfazed at your sudden squirming— you’re close, so close, and Beomgyu wants nothing more than to feel you fall apart against his face.
“Shit– right there, just like that— don’t stop, god, fuck—!” Your eyes are screwed shut as a sudden wave of pleasure breaks through you, your hand pulling at Beomgyu’s hair and your heel digging sharply into his back as you cum; the boy only lets out a pathetic whine at the feeling of you rolling your hips smoothly against his face, mouth left ajar and eyes fluttering shut as he lets you use him, riding it out with twitchy legs and soft moans.
Beomgyu only moves after your grip slips from his head entirely; your whole body is falling slack, a deep sigh escaping you as you attempt to catch your breath, eyes bleary and slowly opening after a moment— you’re able to watch as the said boy goes to stand, a weak hand of yours stopping his motion and grabbing at his shoulder— and you’re guiding him to hover over you, smiling coyly at the wrecked sight of him.
His glasses are completely skewed— a slight heat burns at your face from the sight, but it’s all washed away by the lopsided smile Beomgyu gives you, entirely unaware of his flushed and messy appearance; gently, you reach out to slip off his glasses, putting them off to the side as you reach to adjust his mused hair next— he merely watches your face with doe eyes as you brush his hair away gently, tucking it behind his ear before you cup his jaw, tugging him down to kiss you again.
“You’re sure you wanna do this?” you mumble against his lips, hands absentmindedly running along his skin soothingly, lips beginning to wander off as you trail soft pecks against his jawline, smiling at the way he doesn’t hesitate to nod, “you want it?”
“Need it,” Beomgyu whines, letting out a shaky breath as he grabs your hand, guiding it down his chest slowly, adding pressure once you’ve reached the bulge of his boxers— you can feel the way he twitches the moment you touch him, gulping softly before the continues to plead, “need it, need to feel you.”
His voice is sweet and soft in your ears, and you find that you can’t really bring yourself to put up a front and resist; it’s physically impossible to, especially with the way he ruts his cock against your hand, leaking pathetically and twitching at even the slightest stimulation.
Beomgyu’s attempts to remain calm and collected falls apart the moment you relent, face red and eyes wide with anticipation the moment he feels your hand go to pull his cock out; he falters above you for a split second, teeth sinking into his lip to suppress a whine that builds up in his throat. But his attempts are futile as always, a broken whimper leaving him the moment you press the head of his cock against your cunt, tightening around the shaft and proceeding to run it along your slit teasingly.
He’s practically panting above you, fingers gripping onto the sheets as he allows you to toy with him, eyes glassy and meeting yours as you simply coo mockingly at him, teasing him for being nothing but a toy for you to use.
The moment you press his tip against your entrance, the two of you tense; a shaky sigh escapes you at the stretch, looking up at Beomgyu and whispering for him to just put it in already; and he swallows, eyes watering at the feeling of him finally pushing into you— warm, wet walls that flutter around him, stretching and adjusting to his size; your hips that jolt with every inch he slides in, eyes widening and mouth falling open as you try to contain your composure— but his size is no joke, and curses leaves your mouth endlessly at the feeling of him filling you up.
“God— you’re so… so warm, so tight,” Beomgyu cries above you, hips stuttering and making him push himself deeper into you; a yelp escapes you at the feeling, hips pressed flushed against his as you stare up at him with wide eyes, cunt clenching at the anticipation of him fucking you.
But he simply remains still, and you’re just about to complain for him to move when you catch sight of his expression, screwed up into concentration as he lets out a deep breath— probably trying not to cum, you muse to yourself— and he sits up, no longer hovering over you as his hands move to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles on the skin as he looks down where the two of you connect; he looks up at you, puppy eyes begging for one thing.
“You— you can move,” you breathe out, cringing slightly at the weak sound of your voice, the way you trip over your words; Beomgyu nods, sighing shakily again before he finally begins to move, slowly pulling out until the only thing you feel is his tip catching at your entrance— then he thrusts back in, and you don’t bother to swallow down the moan that manifests from that.
Beomgyu isn’t faring any better than you; his brows are knitted together and his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips, voice pitchy and whiny as he attempts to fuck you properly— but his thrusts are sloppy and rough, and it seems as though he’s too concentrated on the feeling of you around him to find a good pace.
You’re opening your mouth to tease him about it, only to get cut off at the feeling of him bumping his cock against your sweet spot; a whine leaves you unexpectedly, the sound accompanied with the feeling of your legs attempting to wrap around his waist to pull him in enough to snap him out of his pussy drunk daze. He’s drinking up your expression, his pace slowing down enough to allow him to search for that spot again— it takes a few attempts, but once he catches onto it, he doesn’t relent.
“Sh–shit, just like that,” you whine, his thrust becoming more calculated as he begins to take note of what makes you feel good once more— though it’s still slightly sloppy and uneven, his weak pants and pitchy whines enough to tell you that his mind is much too hazy to care.
Absentmindedly, your hand snakes down to circle at your clit in search of more stimulation— only to get it knocked away roughly by Beomgyu’s, eyes widening at the action until he’s replacing you hand with his— and though you wish you could make fun of him for being such a desperate bitch, the stimulation has your voice getting caught in your throat.
“Does— does this feel good?” Beomgyu suddenly asks, puppy eyes watering and glazed as he picks up his pace, one hand gripping onto your waist while the other continues to rub your clit, “Am I– ah… am I doing good?”
You almost miss the last part with how softly he says it— but once you process his question, you let out a breathy laugh, biting at your lip in an attempt to suppress the smile that tugs at your face; you fail miserably, but all the patronizing look in your eyes does is make Beomgyu’s cock twitch inside you a bit.
“Does my stupid puppy need something? Need my approval?” you ask, pouting at the way he hesitates to answer, “I won’t know unless you tell me, baby.”
The pet names are enough to have Beomgyu short-circuiting again; his face feels hot and he lets out a petulant whine at the way you continue to tease, ignoring his pleading look as you reach up to cup his jaw, cooing his name so sweetly he’s unable to be ashamed at how easily he breaks.
“Tell me I’m doing good,” he whines, and you simply smile at him, stuttered breaths and soft moans the only thing leaving your lips as you notice the increased sloppiness of his thrusts, his erratic voice and face that slowly nears yours, hovering over you as he speaks.
“I’m— ‘m good, right? Your…” he trails off, punctuating his next word with a harsh, deep thrust that has you yelping, “your good boy— tell me, tell me I’m good, just wanna hear you say it, ah, wanna be good for you.”
He’s a babbling, whining mess, hiding his face in your neck immediately after the words escape him— and with a request so sweet, how could you ever deny him?
“So good for me,” you immediately respond, listening to the muffled whimpers as he buries his head deeper into your neck, wandering lips sucking and biting at the skin, “good little pup— fuck, are you close? Gonna fill me up?”
You feel the way he nods frantically against you, his hand leaving your hip to circle under your back, pulling you flush against him as he continues his rough, haphazard thrusts— and you turn your head to face him, pressing a kiss to his head before you lean in close to his ear, the sounds of your breathy moans and sweet voice enough to bring him over the edge.
“C’mon, cum for me puppy,” you coo, listening to the long whimper he lets out in response, hips stilling and pressing flush against yours as he follows your command, warm cum filling you up as he rides out his orgasm, cock rutting subtly into you all the while, “that’s it— such a good boy, so perfect to me.”
His chest heaves against yours; his other arm comes up to sneak under your body as well, successfully hugging you close against him, bodies pressed together and practically one with how tightly he’s got you in his grip— his cock remains inside you all the while, head nuzzled deeply in the space of your neck as you merely let out an amused huff, giving him a moment to catch his breath before you tease him again.
The moment of peace between the two of you is cut by the abrasive sound of his phone ringing, the two of you looking at the source with furrowed brows; neither of you make a move to get it, watching it continue to vibrate on the bed before it goes silent— you’re both falling back against the bed the moment in bliss the moment the ringtone disappears, and you can feel Beomgyu’s arms tightening around you even more, not expecting him to be so openly clingy—
“You didn’t cum,” Beomgyu suddenly gasps, head popping up from his hiding place as he hovers over you with wide eyes. You simply reassure him that it’s alright, already feeling your body get heavy with exhaustion— but he isn’t having it, shaking his head and standing back up as he looks at you with an unbelievably solemn expression, wincing softly as he pulls out of you, “No, I wanna make you cum— wanna feel you cum on my dick, wanna make you feel good.”
The words sound clumsy coming from him, oddly shy to say what he wants out loud— and it makes you laugh, attempting to tell him that you really don’t mind when you’re getting interrupted by the annoying sound of his phone ringing.
“Seriously, who the hell is…” you’re trailing off as you watch Beomgyu’s eyes widen, leaning over to snatch his phone as he reads the contact name, his horrified expression telling you all you need to know.
“Don’t answer it,” you seethe, ignoring the way he stutters about how he totally forgot to cancel, feeling a hot anger bubble in your stomach as he talks about how bad he feels for not communicating properly, “Beomgyu, don’t answer it!”
“I— what if she’s waiting outside right now—?!”
Your movements are much too sudden and swift for him to process; he can only watch and allow you to snatch the phone away from him, rough hands gripping his shoulders and hissing at him to fucking sit; he’s quick to comply, and you’re even quicker to climb onto his lap and situate yourself just how you like— he cries softly at the feeling of you grabbing at his sensitive cock, stroking it for a moment and aligning it with your entrance before you’re sinking down on him slowly.
“Who cares if she’s outside right now,” you scowl, digging your fingers in his cheeks and forcing him to look at you, swollen lips red and pouty as he merely whines at the feeling of you rocking slowly against him, “it’s the least we could do to get back at her for trying to fucking use you.”
His protests die down once you pick up your pace; oh, his face practically screams, eyes glazing over at the feeling of your warm pussy using his sensitive cock to get yourself off, soft cries leaving him as he merely watches you begin to ride him expertly, already feeling himself get hard inside you, the sight of you on top of him and the sounds of skin against skin riling him much more than expected.
“Hnng, wait, slow down please—!” he whines softly, hands flying to your hips yet making no attempts to control the pace— and you can only laugh at him, the sounds of his soft cries enough to encourage you more.
You’re close— so, so close, and all Beomgyu can do is sit and take it, tears of sensitivity pricking at his eyes and falling along his cheeks the moment he feels your walls clench against him— but he’d rather die than stop you, sp entranced with the sight of your face twisted with pleasure that his body screams at him to do what he can to make you feel good.
Like instinct, your hand tangles itself in Beomgyu’s hair the moment he latches his lips against your nipple, back arching and the tight knot in your stomach falling apart the moment his wandering hand goes to play with your clit; the way your walls spasm and hug him tightly is enough to have Beomgyu cumming inside you again, a pathetic keen sounding from him as he buries his head in your chest, beyond sensitive with the way you continue to ride your orgasm long after.
It’s quiet, save for the sounds of your panting and Beomgyu’s soft whimpers— but it doesn’t last long, a tired groan escaping you at the sound of Beomgyu’s phone ringing again; without much of a thought, you reach for it and finally answer.
“Leave him alone. He’s busy.”
You hang up immediately after— the girl on the other side didn’t get the chance to utter a single word, and you find that you couldn’t care less as you toss his phone to the side and look over at Beomgyu— you’re smiling softly at the way he seems mortified at your action.
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel bad,” you sigh, placing your hands on his chest and pushing, gently guiding the two of you to lay down— he remains inside you as he pulls you in close, your limbs heavy and tangling quickly as he mutters a soft no, I don’t; you smile. “Good. Cause I almost got mad again.”
He chuckles softly at that, falling quiet after; you look up at him to gauge his expression, finding that he’s lost in thought. After a few minutes, he meets your eyes meekly and finally speaks.
“Did you really mean what you said earlier?”
A pause. You said a lot of things earlier— but as you retract on every little thing that's come from your mouth, you realize what he’s talking about— and you laugh, reaching to cup his cheeks fondly as you nod.
“Of course I did,” you grin, pecking his lips, your heart fluttering wildly at the way he immediately chases after you for more after you pull away, “I meant all of it— and more.”
Softly, he smiles. His arms that were wrapped around you pull you in close, closing the space between you and bringing you in for a slow, sweet kiss— he pulls away, leaning into your ear to whisper something with a coy smile.
“So do you wanna play League of Legends later?”
You let out an annoyed yell and punch at his chest— you practically fuck his brains out, and this is all he can say?
“You’re such a fucking loser,” you mourn, hiding your face in your hands.
Beomgyu laughs, and places a kiss on the top of your head.
“But I’m your loser,” he says sweetly, nuzzling against your hair with a content sigh, “all yours.”
♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6
“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”
yeonjun x fem!reader
Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut
Word count: 10.6K
warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it
smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)
Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-
Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess.
It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again.
“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”
But sometimes, he just can’t help it.
He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.
“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”
“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”
“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”
“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”
“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”
“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.
“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”
Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
MONDAY
This is it.
Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you.
He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.
He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this.
Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you.
When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him.
He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight.
Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear.
You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.
Shit, this was so embarrassing.
Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest.
The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all.
But for you, anything could change.
This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers.
Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already.
Looking back was your first mistake.
Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you.
“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself.
“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!”
“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”
You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina.
“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there.
“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you.
He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.
He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern.
“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him.
“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry.
“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground.
“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him.
“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.
“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in.
“For existing.”
God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word.
“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes.
“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.
Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action.
“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.”
He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them.
This was… progress.
But you’re still mad at him.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
TUESDAY
Visiting you in class was a big no.
Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.
You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway.
Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort.
He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time.
It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level.
He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you.
He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him.
But, you are a horrendously petty person.
You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.
It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes.
You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead.
After a moment, the footsteps disappeared.
It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly.
There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.
Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence.
Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s.
His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation.
Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears.
That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him.
You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself.
After a while, you hear scribbling sounds.
You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud.
Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.
Can you pls let me look at u at least?
You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time.
I miss you so so so so so much.
You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left.
That was your second mistake.
Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access.
I’m sorry.
Another paper flies over your fortress.
I’m sorry.
Then, another.
Pls forgive me.
Then another. And another, and another, and another.
Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((
You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds.
It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions.
There’s a small pile of hearts next to him.
Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance.
Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table.
Can I show u how sorry I am??
You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus.
You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions.
“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done.
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take.
Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again.
I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically.
“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out.
There goes all his progress.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
WEDNESDAY
Today has been an oddly nice day.
It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood.
A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours.
“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you!
The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.
It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief.
Yeonjun says he’s sorry.
“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!
You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.
By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.)
Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip.
Yeonjun is really sorry.
…What?
You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before.
He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache.
You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog.
Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.
“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar.
Yeonjun misses you more than anything.
The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face.
“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.
“Could you forgive him?”
“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further.
You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.
When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you.
Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.
Three ways to better communication in a relationship:
The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.
“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously.
my baby :((
stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!
my baby :((
and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!
Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated.
Choi Yeonjun.
can you pls let me talk to you instead?
You don’t bother opening the notification.
That was your third mistake.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
THURSDAY
Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends.
Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.
Well. Most of the time.
“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation.
“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.
“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?”
“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was.
“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.
“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this.
It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence.
I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ.
Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights.
“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more.
“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture.
A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course.
Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you.
Your meal was free.
The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity.
“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”
You take a second to think her question through.
Yet another mistake on your part.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
FRIDAY
Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.
You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened.
Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you.
You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will.
The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station.
“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”
You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly.
“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”
“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.”
Christ!
Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place.
“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.
You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SATURDAY
You were scared to talk to Yeonjun.
Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him.
Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?
The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.
However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.
You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it.
There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.
Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?
It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!
This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.
Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions.
Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now.
I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong.
God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved.
It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.
Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.
You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.
I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…
Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call.
“Hello?”
“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”
“Uhm, let him in then?”
“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”
“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.”
“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.”
“You need to talk to him.”
“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.
“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”
“Okay.”
You hope you’re not making a mistake.
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
SUNDAY
This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too.
Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here.
“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.
“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”
“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief.
“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”
“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!”
Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice.
“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”
You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him.
“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!”
You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess.
Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now.
“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”
“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.
“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”
Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra.
“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.
“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.”
“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”
“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…”
Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.
“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”
“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”
Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse.
“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!”
Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically.
“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”
“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”
“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move.
“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”
“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you.
“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”
Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him.
“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”
“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”
“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”
Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him.
Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you.
The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.
“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”
“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”
“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”
“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”
Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners.
“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans.
“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”
“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes.
“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully.
“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him.
“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more.
“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”
“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh.
“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it.
“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”
His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.
“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.
“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”
“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”
“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.
“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”
Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.
“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation.
“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”
Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.
His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.
“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”
“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.
“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”
He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!
“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears.
“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”
Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin.
“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”
The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.
“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.
“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”
Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired.
You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily.
“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“
Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…
You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.
This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you.
Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.
“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”
“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”
“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder.
“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”
You laugh.
“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”
“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”
A pause.
“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”
You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight.
“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.
“For you, yeah.”
-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-
On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call.
“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”
(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)
Anyone remembers this yeonjun fic where it was basically just yj yearning and lowkey toxic, and i think it was titled 7 days a week? Something along the lines of that. Plot is ab something he did that makes oc mad and she ignores him till sunday..?
Pls tag me in it if u do rmb! Or tag the author pls thankyou!
pairing: sub nice guy roommate!soobin x devious!reader
summary- He's so nice to everyone, and so infuriatingly oblivious and you're nice enough to jerk that out of him ;)
warnings: reader pretends to be dumb to get her ways mwaha. Jerkings off only!! handjobs 🙈 look at the header to imagine lmao. soobin is a sub boy because that's all I like to write about, apparently. soobin crying. soobin likes to be a good boy :p
-
Soobin's always so nice- so-so- damn nice. Always dubbed as the "nice innocent type,". From being a courteous gentleman to being an attentive listener, not to mention his height of 6'3, Choi Soobin has all the traits women want in a partner. Yet, he is so blatantly oblivious to everyone's advances towards him. You wonder if there is more underneath the surface than what he lets on. Surely, he cannot be this chivalrous all the time?
It pisses you off, really. You can't even have a simple lunch with your roommate without girls whispering around your table- plotting a way to slip their numbers in folded tissue papers. He will unfold the tissue, reading the note "We really like your style... call us xxxxxxxxxx" and look back at you with a wide shit-eating grin.
"Look, Y/N! Those girls like the outfit you chose for me." and wave back at them shyly. "You can ask her for more tips if you really like my outfit, she picked it out for me...!" The girls glance around, grimacing at your table before turning back.
"It's almost commendable how you manage to cockblock yourself, Soobin," you say with a sigh- rolling your eyes. He will look back at you with round eyes and pukered lips, tilting his head every so slightly. "What do you mean? They just said they like my outfit...?"
Sigh. You want to smack him, smack his pretty head and yank him by the jaw and yell at his face. You wanna scream and tell him how hot he is, and it's so frustrating watching him throw away all these advances. "You're so blind, dude! Seriously. Like, I get annoyed seeing you be so dumb-"
"How am I blind?!"
"You could've had some action tonight but you chose to be blind and not notice shit! Do you seriously not pick up on hints?"
He shrugs, "I only pick up on things from people I want to notice."
"I could be grinding on your lap, and you would still think I'm being platonic- that's how blind you are." Soobin's expression flickers for a split second before he pouts again. "Whatever. Like you'd ever do that."
"I just might."
It's almost midnight when you reach home after hanging out with your friends. Your apartment is fairly clean by courtesy of Soobin doing the chores before you came back. Light strays from underneath the door of his room, he is still awake- you take a mental note. Without bothering to lock your door, you begin trying to unzip your dress from the back. You struggle for a few seconds before cussing loudly.
"Hey, you're back?" his muffled voice calls out from the other side.
"Yup! Just came back." you glance at the stack of neatly folded laundry on your bed. "Did you do my laundry again? I swear I was gonna do it tomorrow..."
"Heh- it's okay. I was doing mine, so I thought I might as well do yours."
Your dress is awkwardly hanging off your shoulders as you step closer to see he's washed your underwear too- with fabric softener (you could smell it evidently) "See- this is what I kept talking about, you're too nice Soo-" you tripped over the length of your long dress, falling to the ground with a thud.
The door swings open with him yelling, "Are you okay?!"
"Ouch..." you didn't have time to process what was going on- too busy dealing with the bruise you can feel forming on the side of your hip. You don't realise you're left with a black pushup bra, your dress half unzipped and falling to the side, exposing your mismatched pink sailor moon underwear. Soobin goes quiet. He stays in the awkward half-bent position, not meeting your eyes. He doesn't walk away from the room either.
"fuck." you whisper to yourself, ready to die from embarrassment. Then you glance up to finally see Soobin. He was still wearing the navy dress shirt from lunch earlier; a few buttons popped open, revealing some of his chest. His ears blushed into a deep shade of red, his hands shaking a little as the seconds go by. He's still looking away, yet unmoving. You smirk. Let's see how long this facade of a nice guy stays.
"Are you gonna help me up or not, Soobs?"
"O-Oh yeah lemme just-" He reaches down with both hands to pick you up by the waist and the dress slips off a little more but still very much on you. He hasn't spared you or your body a glance, eyes trained to the white walls of your room.
What a nice guy, you chuckled internally.
He sits you down at the edge of your bed. His hands fiddle with themselves, knuckled popping. You will admit he looks rather good- sleeves rolled up to his elbow, shirt messily tucked into black slacks. His black hair was neatly combed after being styled today morning. His skin looks especially white and almost soft under the mood lighting of your room. He looks so cute, yet so hot. You bite your lips unconsciously- you can't wait to mess with him a little more.
"I can't seem to unzip the rest by myself. Can you do it for me, Soobin?" your eyelashes bat, fluttering with a pious facade laced with devious motives. "U-uh sure. yeah." Of course, Mr. Nice Guy Choi Soobin would never say no to you.
Laying down on the bed, you angle yourself for him to reach the zipper on your back. His fingers glide over your skin a little as the dress comes off, burning your skin. His hands are cold, but against you, they warm up; they haven't stopped shaking yet.
Now you're left with just a bra and panties. He gathers the dress, folding it and placing it on your desk. Your heart swells a little before you look at him again. "Thank you so much, Soobin-ah."
"No problem. Are you okay, though? The fall sounded pretty bad..."
You friegn an innocent pout, shaking your head. "No, will you check it for me, please?" You swivel your hips, making sure he can see the pink panties cupping your mound.
Soobin gulps and closes his eyes- probably sending out a prayer. You smile widely. Without a word, he sits on the bed, one leg down. His hand slowly inches near the side of your hips, a clear purple bloch forming. You arch your back more as your body shifts closer to his sitting one. His fingers trace the bruise very gently.
You can feel your panties getting wet, your legs press closer to relieve some pressure but to no avail. His eyes are locked in on your lower body, his eyes drag a little lower to see a dark patch on your underwear. He gasps silently. His hand drifts down a little, now dangerously close to your clothes pussy. You yank his hand away, sitting upright to face him. Your nose almost touching his nose.
“Stupid. Stupid. Stupid Soobin. You still think I’m being friendly? When I’m laid out in front of you with nothing but my panties and bra? Fuck- you still don’t get any hints?”
He looks away. What he says next makes you raise your brows and tackle him down on the bed. “You haven’t exactly grinded on my lap yet, you know?”
“Fuck- you sly fox. I knew you weren’t all innocence-” you grab his jaw, angling his head towards yours before crashing your lips onto his. The kiss is rushed and messy, your teeth clanking against the others a few times. Soobin doesn’t seem to mind, eyes closed as he melts into the kiss.
You straddle his lap, clothed pussy rubbing right over his clothed dick. You can feel how hard it is. Soobin doesn’t even try to fight his tongue into your mouth, you’ve got him beat- tongue hastily slipping into his parted lips- exploring his mouth deliciously. You grind on his lap in round motions, in sync with your tongue. Before you pull back, you gingerly bite his soft yet chapped lips a little.
A string of saliva connects you both as you huff back. His face is a contrast of red blush and his pale white skin, eyes looking at you with a fucked-out expression. You’re just getting started. His dick sits uncomfortably tight under his black slacks and you look at him with bright eyes. “F-fuck, Y/N wait- I- You- fuck…”
“What’s wrong, Soobin?” you coyly ask, fingers sliding down his pants. “Aren’t we going too fast?” you pause.
“Too fast? I see the way you look at me everyday, you little shit.” you aggresivly pull his pants down, exposing his white boxers where you can see tiny bit of precum leaking through.
“Youre always looking at my tits, watching my ass when I wear skirts, always being so fucking oblivious to everyone’s flirting. I know you, Soobin.”
His eyes widen, chest heaving as your fingers touch his clothed cock. “So nice to everyone, so nice to me. You’re just a dog, aren’t you? Look at you now, letting me do what I want with you. You wanted this, didn’t you? You want me to fuck you up, babe”
“S-shit yes! Ngh, Yes. I did. I’m sorry, I just wanted you, Y/N and I didn’t know how to-”
“Shhh” you place a finger on his swollen lips. You come closer to lick his adams apple, messily going down to where his shirt is buttoned open. “Since you’re nice with everyone, be nice with me now, yeah?” He nods firociously.
You get up to sit behind him after taking off your bra. You can tell Soobin wants to touch them, but he doesn’t get the liberty to ask yet, and he knows. Your boobs press against Soobins back, making his spine shiver. Your hands spring his cock free and it sticks up over his shirt- standing hard and straight. You press yourself even closer, nipples brushing against the fabric of his shirt as you begin slowly stroking his cock.
Your body moves along with his. His head lolls back in pleasure as you fondle with his shaft. Two veins are running down from the base to the tip, you can feel it throb within your palm.
His breathing becomes faster with the pace of your strokes, chest heaving up and down.
“You like this, Soobin?” He bites his lips, brows curled as he nods. “You make me feel so good, Y/N…”
“Oh yeah?” your hands tighten around his cock for a few seconds then you jerk him off even quicker. His balls feel heavy, and you can tell it’s going to be a big load. You suddenly hear sniffles emerge among his whimpers and moans. Your other hand reaches up to his face to feel hot tears streaming down to his lips and neck. “Baby- why’re you crying?”
“So good, Y/N. So good. Please, Please, Please, I wanna cum-” You pause once again, earning a whine out of him. You giggle before kissing his neck, sucking onto his supple flesh as you leave love bites all over. His body starts to shake uncontrollably, whimpers escalating to full-blown yelps and moans. You can tell he’s close.
“Be a good boy and cum for me, ‘mkay?”
“Yes-yes- I’ll be a-a-good-” he doesn’t have time to finish his sentence before ropes of thick white cum flies out. Some land on your finger, and the rest stain his shirt and pants. He heaves a sigh. You turn him around and he looks at you with a dazed and confused expression. Your lips are laced with an evil smirk as you lick your fingers clean of his cum. His eyes widen. He just witnessed the hottest thing a woman has ever done. You yank him by the neck and spit his cum back into his mouth as you continue to sloppily kiss him.
He happily gulps down the remnants in his mouth, and you acknowledge him surprised.
“From now on, you’re just allowed to be this nice with me, ‘kay?”
-
a/n: unedited persuzzz. As you can tell, I think with my none existent dick while writing smut- no I'm no ashamed of it. tell me how you like it and leave some nice comments while you're at it!
if you guys wanna req some prompts, feel free to cuz I'm not that creative to come up with more ideas lol
synopsis: if choi beomgyu is an infestation, he’s already latched onto you, like a cute puppy that’s always trailing behind its owner. but every relationship has ups and downs, so here are yours
pairing: rodrick coded!beomgyu x regina coded!reader
warnings: oral (f!receiving), degradation, p in v, getting caught, sub!gyu, fluff + smut, beomgyu literally just beomgyu that’s a warning, MINORS DNI
word count: 4.7k
notes: yeahhhh i put this off for way too long but i fell back into the beomgyu trap and finally finished it + this one is a lot more cute couple stuff than loser.exe since it’s established relationship now hehe + puppy.exe can be read as a standalone but i would recommend reading loser.exe for shits and giggles lol + beomgyu’s such a cutie + i hope you enjoy!!! <3
forget boyfriend, beomgyu’s like your dog.
he follows you around everywhere, circling your ankles and whines when you ignore him, always seems to know when you’re about to sit so he can flop over you shamelessly.
he pokes and prods at you for little scraps of praise, pouting and whining until you relent. it’s not that different from before, you suppose.
just, more domesticated. he’s a cute puppy.
you probably wouldn’t put him on your walls anymore, though. why should you when the real thing is so easily accessible now?
trophy boyfriend, loser/lover, poster boy. still a pretty little loser.
fine, so maybe you do like him.
…yeah, whatever.
“fuck, slow down,” you hiss. beomgyu keeps his face buried between your thighs, fingers digging into your waist greedily as he laps at your slick.
he tongues at your clit, panting against you as his eyes round on you adoringly, mumbling out a half-baked, “so good.”
he spits on your pussy, forming incoherent murmurs as he admires the way your hips rock subtly into his hand as he rubs the little bud. there’s a wet patch tenting his pants that’s becoming increasingly hard to ignore, unable to help shifting around as his tongue flicks over your clit again and he runs it along your folds
“gyu–” your protest catches over a cry when his tongue fucks deep inside you, one hand groping up clumsily at your tits as his drool mixes with your wetness, “ohmygod.”
“mm,” he’s whining, the vibrations causing your vision to blur for a moment. his hips are rocking slightly, and you only notice the way he’s grinding against the bed when he starts blubbering against you.
beomgyu doesn’t falter, maintaining his rhythm almost desperately. he swirls your clit, sucking on it before slipping deep inside you, dragging through your folds before he’s drowning in you again, drinking you in like the moon. your fingers find his hair, tugging at his locks harshly and he whimpers, crying a little as his hips stutter.
“so ah pathetic,” you manage, teeth catching your lip, “wanted to fuck me so bad but you can’t even do one simple task–ah, fuck!”
beomgyu lets his teeth graze your clit, almost in retaliation, and your legs tighten around his head, caging him in. you don’t care if you’ve trapped him, the fucking freak probably likes it anyway.
his head lifts from your cunt suddenly, neck knocking against your ankles. his hair is a mess and he’s tearing up the way he always does when it’s too much, too good–
“wanna be inside you,” he pants, “please, baby, need it.”
he’s already fumbling at his pants, palming his weeping cock and pressing it against your slick folds, barely holding back from rutting like an animal.
“only good boys deserve that,” you coo, all cloying and damn fake because you need him inside you too, need him fucking your brains out until you don’t even remember how to bully him, “have you been a good boy, puppy?”
beomgyu lets out a full-on sob, rubbing his tip against your arousal frenziedly, “been a good boy, please, i promise– please, been a good puppy, need you baby, need it so bad please–”
he can barely think straight, doesn’t even realize he’s already inside until your walls are enveloping him and god, he knows you’re gonna edge him for hours for this but right now he’d take anything for your sweet, wet cunt around him. to make things worse for him, you clench around him immediately and he’s cumming, tears slipping from his eyes as they squeeze shut, lips parting to let out miserable little sounds as he shamefully floods you with warmth.
“such a bad, bad mm puppy,” you pant, still gushing around him. you came as well, he registers faintly, as slick coats his length, “i think i should punish you, gyu. what do you think?”
he flushes at the humiliation, moreso when he likes it.
“keep you on your knees, let you rut against the floor like some slut,” you pull him down to you slowly, eyes bright despite the flush coating your features, his own glassy and dark.
he’s normally so bratty, talks himself up until he’s kneeling at your feet. you’ll let him rest for a bit before you play with him, you think. let him get all overconfident again and reduce him to a whimpering mess.
“you’d be so cute, puppy.”
he nuzzles against you, barely registering your words as he sinks heavily onto you. you scowl.
“hey, don’t fall asleep on me, asshole! get off!”
“what do you think?”
you hold the paper up for momo to see, fingertips crinkling the top of the sketch slightly.
“who’s that?” momo queries, glossing over the drawing with a quick up-down-up-down.
“my art class’s ta,” you turn the paper towards yourself once more, pondering the inner ear’s structure for a moment. it looks a touch… vermiculate. unnaturally so, “we’re supposed to draw someone in our class and guess each other’s person. does it look like him?”
“kind of? i don’t think his nose is that high, though.”
“really,” you hum, the drawing’s various intricacies devolving as you gnaw relentlessly at its intensifying weaknesses, “ugh, i wish i had a reference picture. it would’ve been so much easier if it was gyu or one of the girls.”
“you can draw me,” momo proffers, throwing her head back and striking an exuberant pose with her fingers splayed across her face and her legs thrown across the bench.
“yeah, yeah,” you set the paper down on the table, the sunlight brightening some smudges on the paper as the clouds part for their moses, “it can only be people in our class and i wanted a challenge. he looks… unique.”
“i mean,” momo bites her nail saucily, “he’s kinda cute, what’s his handle?”
you swat at her half-heartedly, “save it for when we graduate.”
beomgyu happens upon the drawing while he’s excavating your backpack for his sweater.
“what’s this?”
you glance back, generally registering the lines that compose park sungho.
“art assignment. you can just leave it there, try not to fold it though.”
“okay,” your boyfriend lets it drop back into the backpack, eventually unearthing his sweater stuffed with your computer. he throws it on the bed.
“actually, could you give the drawing to me?” you turn your chair towards him, “i wanna fix a few things.”
he hands it to you, gaze locked on you intently.
“what?” you laugh, “jealous?”
“of that dork?” he huffs, “of course not.”
“considering you, i’d say i have a history of dorks.”
“...hmph.”
he walks over slowly. even from upside down he can see the features clearly. sungho’s slightly parted lips, soft eyes, wispy hair tickling his forehead. he’s never really paid much attention to him outside of occasional acknowledgements in the hallways. it’s never really mattered.
why should it?
he peers into your dressing mirror as you tend to your drawing.
“do you think i should cut my hair?” he asks, suddenly, feeling a few strands of his hair before the mirror. his lips are set in that perpetual sulkiness, thumbing at his collar with his other hand.
“no,” you don’t even have to look up at him to answer, “why?”
“i don’t know,” he mumbles, “we’re dating now, right? i feel like i should look the part.”
“you do look the part,” you scoff, “you know, good girl, bad boy. hot girl, emo loser.”
“hey!”
“your words, not mine.”
“i just– i don’t know. i think i’d look… cleaner.”
“doesn’t suit you,” you tell him, “unless you really, genuinely want it, you look better as a freak.”
“so you like it,” his lips curve widely, eyes narrowing as he locks eyes with you.
“ugh! were you seriously just doing this for praise?” you scowl, “sure, whatever dipshit. it’s hot.”
“aha!”
“what are you doing?” you frown at him, one hand on your hip in the doorway of his bathroom. his dorm is an absolute mess compared to yours, and you had nearly tripped over the guitar stand coming in.
the scissors clatter in the sink as he whirls around to face you, “oh, fuck, you scared me! why are you here?”
you roll your eyes, “to see you, obviously. are you seriously cutting it?”
“um, yeah…”
“yeah, okay, no,” you scowl, tugging him out of the bathroom, “lesson one of, like, not looking terrible. don’t cut your own hair unless you know what you’re doing.”
his head lowers, almost shyly as you analyse your losses. he hasn’t cut any, yet, although it’s messier than his usual messy.
“i thought you changed your mind,” you mutter, fingers smoothing over his locks systematically, “are you really going for it?”
“yeah,” he nods, a little too fervently for the incipient dip of his lips. his expression drops too quickly for even his usual false bravado, gaze slipping to your ankles, “i mean, no. no. i don’t know why i said yes. i’ve been standing there for half an hour already ‘cause i just couldn’t do it.”
“why are you even cutting it?” you attempt, gaze gleaning the folds of his hair in the absence of his eyes.
he hesitates for once; really pauses to think, something that rarely occurs in your presence.
“i don’t know,” he mumbles after a spell, “i guess… i thought it would make you like me more.”
“oh, um, that sounds weird,” he backtracks quickly, “like, basically what i just said but imagine it less desperate.”
“difficult thing to do, believe me,” you snort.
his brows scrunch up all petulantly at that and you fold, “ugh, fine. whatever. just, like, why?”
when he fails to answer, you step back from him with a quiet sigh, planting your hands on your hips.
“is it because i told sakura that your hair keeps getting in my mouth when we kiss?”
he gapes at you, “huh??”
“nevermind,” you dismiss quickly before he can pursue the topic, “is it because of sungho?”
silence. he fidgets with his pockets awkwardly.
“okayyyy, is it because of peer pressure?”
“you sound like my mom,” he mumbles.
you scoff, “is your mom hot?”
he gapes at you again.
“my bad,” you proffer, “come on, loser, i can’t guess forever.”
“… sungho,” he admits finally.
“i, um,” he continues ploddingly, admiring the floorboards intensely, “you were drawing him… and i thought you, um, y’know…”
“I don’t know, though,” you counter.
he pouts at you pleadingly, “don’t make me say it… i’ll sound stupid.”
“it’s never bothered you before,” you tell him, enjoying his suffering a little too much to be healthy.
“i was jealous, okay?” he grumbles, effectively boring holes into the floor now, “I figured if you spent too much time drawing and staring at his face you would get bored of mine, so i— i wanted to cut it like his.”
his head dips shamefully, voice lowering to a whisper near the end.
you hesitate for a moment, approaching him tentatively.
“i… will probably like you no matter how you look,” you acquiesce.
his head raises slowly, “even if i bleach my eyebrows?”
“...don’t push it.”
“can i go bald?”
“absolutely not.”
he breaks out into a grin almost immediately, lurching forwards to hug you suddenly. you stumble, patting his back begrudgingly.
“i knew you loved me!” he declares ebulliently.
“nope,” you scoff, trying to shove him away to no avail, “i already comforted you, i draw the line at this bullshit.”
“too late~” he sing-songs, “you’re stuck with meeeee~”
he nuzzles against you indulgently, grinning against your neck.
before long he tilts to mouth at your neck sloppily, hips shifting against you.
“ugh, stop humping me,” you huff, “you’re like a dog. at least fuck me properly.”
“woof,” he plays into it, practically drooling.
your eyes lilt dangerously, shoving him down onto the bed, narrowly avoiding knocking his head into the guitar.
you kick it to the side (pausing for a moment as you recall the dedication he has to playing it), as gently as you can to a half-hearted ‘hey!’ from underneath you.
you shush him quietly, two hands caressing his tie and tugging him upwards.
he lets out a muffled whine against your lips as you kiss him, your fingers fisting into his hair. his hands unfasten your skirt hastily, surprisingly coordinated considering his eyes are half-closed in bliss.
“pathetic,” you demean affectionately, fingers twirling the end of his tie.
his breath hitches when you pull the tie taut, gaze blurring in and out of a daze of lust. he watches you lovingly, lips parted dreamily, not really aware of what’s being said, “mm, thank you, baby.”
you let the string of spit connecting your lips fall into his mouth, his head lolling backwards. his hands fall from your skirt, entire body going lax, held up only by your hand in his hair and the other wrapped up in his tie.
“come on,” you taunt, “you wanted this so bad, at least follow through.”
it’s gasoline to his fire, as your voice lowers sweetly, “you don’t want to have to jerk off in a corner, right?”
you reach down to palm his hard-on through the rapidly dampening fabric of his shorts. he stares up at you dumbly, pawing thoughtlessly at your arm.
“you can’t even talk,” you scoff, “but that’s okay, because you’ll be a good boy! right, gyu?”
he lets out some choked, garbled mess of a sound, eyes blown wide open, hips rubbing together uncontrollably.
you sigh deliberately, unbuttoning your shirt slowly, “you’re so out-of-it already. i guess i’ll have to do this by myself.”
he snaps back into reality quickly, latching onto you with a ‘no!’
beomgyu tugs you down on top of him, your back arched and skirt flared up so that your gaze is level to his as you look down. he’s fumbling at his pants clumsily, so you take pity on him and unclasp your bra, letting him salivate over your tits so he has something to distract himself with.
as usual, his mind blanks immediately, fingers frozen for a good few seconds, before he’s practically ripping at his pants with renewed vigor. it’s adorable, you think, before you can control it. no matter how many times he has sex with you, he still never fails to react like it’s the first time all over again.
“cutie,” you tease, dragging him up by the tie to kiss him again. he’s pliant against you, boneless aside from his boner, “why would i ever need sungho when i have you right here? my dumb little bimbo boyfriend.”
you’re not sure what exactly prompts the pitiful, high-pitched keen that leaves beomgyu. from your experience practically everything you just said could reduce him to pieces. maybe it’s the situation, you decide: sprawled beneath you, choking him a little with his tie, gazing down at him like he’s the most pathetic thing you’ve ever seen even though you’re talking to him like he’s precious. he just wants to be your dumb little bimbo boyfriend, doesn’t he? just wants to stay here forever.
“[nameeeeee]…” he whines, wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling himself up to hide his face against your collarbones.
you giggle a little, “aww, are you crying?”
a pause. “oh my god, you’re crying!”
he sniffles against you as you start to pet his hair, “gyu, what’s wrong?”
“don’t wan’ you to leave me,” he hiccups, “just wanna be your baby forever.”
“aww,” you coo, cradling his face in your hands, all teary and delectable, “that’s kind of concerning, but you look adorable like this! such a cute crybaby.”
he seems to melt into you at that, slack-jawed and eyes glazed over. all it takes is a little praise and he’s a viscous mess on his sheets.
beomgyu. god, he’s beautiful.
the door is flung open suddenly. “yah, idiot, get up—”
soobin breaks off into a shriek, whirling around into the wall.
you scramble off of beomgyu, fingers shoving the buttons of your shirt back into place. beomgyu shoots up, tugging his pants back up and practically tackling soobin.
he starts shoving the other boy away, out of your line of sight.
“quick, get out!” he hisses, “i’m having the best day of my life right now!”
the older boy lets out a squeak, “my eyes are unclean!!!!! get me some bleach!!!!”
he flees down the stairs to the best of his ability, still shielding his eyes. the others glance up at beomgyu from the base of the steps.
yeonjun gives a grin, “having fun?”
“shut up,” beomgyu hisses, voice still all high-pitched from how red his face is getting, “stop ruining my chances with girls!”
“she’s already your girlfriend, man,” taehyun sighs, “at least lock the door next time.”
“good luck, hyung!” huening kai chirps.
not long after the sound of a lock clicks. yeonjun shrugs, slinging his arms around taehyun and hyuka and setting off to hunt down the escaped soobin.
you’re already fully dressed when beomgyu scampers back, snickering a little at how flushed he’s gotten. he’s still half-hard, holding his pants up manually.
“you’re leaving already?” he pouts, awkwardly zipping his pants back up.
“i did what I came to do,” you counter, “your hair’s been saved and i got my daily fix of you progressively getting more and more needy.”
“but—”
“don’t go too soft on me now,” you chide, pinching his cheek as you brush past him, “i’ll see you in humanities tomorrow.”
“see you,” he answers petulantly. it’s all soobin’s fault, he decides. but he should probably start locking his door, shouldn’t he?
yeah, he should. but before that, he has more pressing matters to deal with, already planning to dig through his hidden photos for a few shots he had begged you for and finish off what you started.
the main problem, you’ve come to find, is that beomgyu is horribly, irrationally, irrevocably jealous.
it’s deserved, in a way. you’re certainly not lacking in similar boys lapping at your ankles. but retaliation isn’t something you expected. he does too many stupid things for your attention. this is one of them.
“why do i feel like you two have reverted back to pre-dating?” sakura murmurs, staring intently at beomgyu and chaewon.
“what do you mean?”
“well, look at them. i thought he rejected her ages ago.”
you scoff, “don’t dwell on it. he does this all the time. it’s provocation.”
“you don’t ever get tired of it?” sakura frowns.
“it’s fun,” you proffer, “he flirts for attention, i give him the cold shoulder. he has something to chase after that way, and i get to be that something. it works when it works.”
“i wish taehyun would do that,” sakura sighs softly, “i’m always the one running after him.”
“i mean, every relationship functions in a different way,” you shrug, “but it doesn’t hurt to change it up every once in a while.”
a text buzzes from your phone, face-down on the table.
3:41 pm
gyu (mine): wanna come sit with me?
[nickname]: thought u were sitting with chaewon
gyu (mine): are u jealous
[nickname]: this again
[nickname]: in your dreams
gyu (mine): in my dreams you’re nicer to me :(
[nickname]: keep dreaming then
[nickname]: if ur rlly gonna stay there at least don’t lead the poor girl on
gyu (mine): just admit ur jealous
[nickname]: oh my days
[nickname]: will it make you stop
gyu (mine): only if u make it really big and dramatic
[nickname]: ill pass
[nickname]: just keep spamming ill stop replying
5+ messages from gyu (mine):
3:50 pm
gyu (mine): come backkkkk
gyu (mine): hmph
gyu (mine): ig ill have to use my secret weapon
his secret weapon, you quickly discover, really is a weapon. you nearly have a heart attack when you see him in humanities.
he looks… cleaned up.
you can actually see the skin of his eyelid. his fingers don’t have metal covering them. his tie is actually tied.
he’s chewing bright pink bubblegum. he’s wearing converse with neatly tied laces. his hair is brushed so that it sits obediently against his nape.
what the actual fuck?
“i—what—uh,” you’re taken aback enough to actually stutter in his presence, looking at him like he’s grown two heads. worse than that, actually. you would rather he have two heads if both heads looked normal.
“choi beomgyu, what the fuck did you do?”
“ohhhh, so now you’re talking to me,” he slips into his seat next to you, all smug and prim and proper and wrong, “i see how it is.”
you look horrified, “no, no, that’s not how we’re doing this. you tell me right now who did this to you.”
“i did it myself,” he flicks a lock of your hair kittenishly, “why, you don’t like it?”
“no,” you scowl, “you look so… preppy. eugh.”
“hmph,” he crosses his arms, turning away from you, “i think it’s cute. a good change of style, you know? switch things up.”
you glare at his side profile, at his fresh vitality and how endearing the sudden change makes him seem. he looks softer, sweeter like this. in truth you think he looks good no matter what he has going on; pretty little loser agenda, you suppose.
but you sort of miss the eyeliner freak and the bedhead of a wolfcut that has now been condensed into something more docile, though obviously you’ll never say anything to him about it.
something does escape you, eventually.
“you look… pretty,” you acquiesce, “i guess.”
he glances at you immediately, head cocking, “better then before?”
“no, not… quite,” you hesitate, “you look good either way. it’s less of the… uh, aesthetic and more of the, well, you.”
he’s silent, sober for a few moments. a rare occurrence in class, particularly humanities. even the professor seems to lull at the sudden quietude, before resuming the class.
“that’s really sweet,” he mumbles, looking down and picking at a hangnail.
“don’t get used to it,” you mutter.
there’s something gnawing at you, an urge in the back of your mind to do something destructive like break up with him or kiss him or something similarly impulsive. it’s perplexing and aberrant and you kick him lightly under the table to satiate the discomfort.
“ow…” he huffs, “what was that for?”
you neglect to answer him, grasping his jaw instead and turning his face towards you. he blinks, complying diffidently.
there’s something missing, you realize. he really does look better with eyeliner. you glance at the front of the room. the professor is absent like beomgyu’s dignity, so you keep one hand holding onto your boyfriend’s face and the other feeling around in your bag for the familiar pen.
“stay still,” you murmur, letting the lid roll towards his desk and focusing on his face. his large, bright marbles for eyes; wide and earnest and wholeheartedly centered on you.
“you look… good,” you concede, “like, good. but it’s missing that touch of flair.”
you can feel the silly grin that forms on his face against your fingertips, “you like it?”
you scowl, “i like you. now stay still.”
his eyeliner tends to be a lot heavier than yours, and you try to produce it to the best of your ability, leaning forwards.
you’re close enough to feel the warmth of his breath against your lips, one thumb pressing lightly into his cheek to keep him still.
“don’t blink,” you warn.
“i never blink,” he murmurs.
you pause. “you blink all the time.”
“not when you’re this close.”
…right. idiot.
you ignore him, angling his face slightly towards the light spilling in from the windows. his lashes flutter anyway, betraying him, and you click your tongue in annoyance.
“if you mess this up i’m actually going to kill you.”
“worth it,” he says immediately.
you drag the liner across his lash line, slow and deliberate. his skin is warm under your fingers, softer than you expect, and you have to steady your hand when he exhales shakily.
he’s watching you.
of course he is.
his eyes don’t leave your face for even a second—wide, glossy, like you’re doing something far more important than fixing his stupid little aesthetic crisis.
“stop staring,” you mutter.
“can’t,” he replies, just as quiet.
you press your thumb harder into his cheek. “i’m serious.”
“i am too.”
…god.
you finish the first eye, pulling back just slightly to assess it. it’s messier than yours, thicker, dragged out just enough to sharpen his gaze—something between careless and intentional.
something him.
“see?” you tilt his chin a little, inspecting your work, “this is what’s missing.”
he doesn’t even look.
“yeah,” he says, still staring at you, “definitely.”
you scoff, grabbing his face again to do the other eye.
this time he’s worse—barely blinking, barely breathing, like if he moves even a little you’ll disappear.
it makes something in your chest twist in a way you don’t like.
or maybe do.
you finish, capping the liner with a soft click and finally letting go of him.
“there,” you say, leaning back, “fixed.”
he blinks like he’s coming out of a trance, immediately turning to the little mirror in his phone camera.
there’s a beat.
then—
“…oh.”
you roll your eyes, “don’t sound so shocked. i know what i’m doing.”
“no, it’s just—” he glances back at you, something softer creeping into his expression, “this looks more like me.”
you hesitate.
yeah.
that’s the problem.
“don’t get used to it,” you mutter. once more, with conviction.
he smiles despite himself, a suppressed fondness, “…thanks. you’re being surprisingly nice about this.”
“what are girlfriends for?” you sigh, returning the smile in a more subdued manner.
“girlfriend,” it’s a full fledged grin now, as he sidles up against you, “i like the sound of that.”
you glance away from him reluctantly. partners. it’s got a nice ring to it, you suppose. better than situationship, anyway.
beomgyu and you. you and beomgyu. together. you kinda like it too.
“this is so cute!”
sakura tilts the camera so that the mini screen can capture all four of you; taehyun with his arms around her, you tugging beomgyu forward by the tie so his face is level with yours.
click!
“we should make a ship name,” sakura declares, gesturing excitedly, “like one for me and tyunnie, and then one for you and beomgyu, and one for all four of us!”
“oh, so like a foursome?” you quip, fastening beomgyu’s tie back in place.
“no, like a double date thing!”
“so a foursome,” beomgyu chimes in.
taehyun quirks an eyebrow, unimpressed, “i don’t want to be in a foursome with you though.”
“but you want to be in one with her?” beomgyu gestures towards you, brows furrowing melodramatically, “not only do you reject me, you also steal my girlfriend?!”
“that…” taehyun purses his lips, “that is not what i meant.”
sakura thwacks her camera lightly, “damn, the photo didn’t save. i’m all out of storage…”
“we can go to a photobooth instead,” you offer, letting taehyun and beomgyu bicker behind you, “i can pay, it’s no big deal.”
“really?” she wiggles her eyebrows cheerfully (you can never understand how she gets them to move like that), “come on, there’s one over there! let’s go!”
the four of you cram into the booth, skip through the logistics (“just pick a simple one, the spotlight should be the photo itself” — wise words from taehyun), and pose.
it’s a flurry of movements. beomgyu piggybacking taehyun, you and sakura forming a heart with your arms, spy poses with respective boyfriends, jazz hands, all sorts of cheesy couple things. happy moments.
“it’s the last one! we can do anything, really. go crazy!”
sakura makes a little snapshot with her fingers around her eye. taehyun pulls out a deck of cards and tries to capture a shot mid-shuffle. beomgyu tilts his head forward like he’s rocking with an electric guitar.
you decide to go with something a little atypical of you, nestling the headband with puppy ears onto your head and making a claw-like gesture.
synopsis: in your eyes, choi beomgyu is an infestation that clings onto any surface it can find and eventually seeps in, in the form of casual hookups and an insufferable habit of sucking up to you. like all situationships, attachments form and soon you find that you’re going soft
pairing: rodrick coded!beomgyu x regina coded!reader
warnings: making out, mild exhibitionism, phone sex (kinda? beomgyu is calling someone else while getting jerked off lol), degradation, mostly sub!gyu, fluff + smut, beomgyu is a warning of his own, kind of fwb but minus the friends part lol, MINORS DNI
word count: 4.2k
notes: rahhhhhhhh i lowkenuinely NEED someone to bully me the way reader bullies gyu what does one need to do to get absolutely ruined by a hot girl 🫦+ this one has fluff and smut lol but i’m ass at writing smut so pls don’t judge + hope u enjoy <3!
he’s the kind of boy you’d put on your walls.
trophy boyfriend, loser/lover, poster boy.
he has the looks, you’ll give him that. his voice is okay when he’s not screaming. he acts super dumb all the time but he’s probably smarter than that. you sit next to him in humanities, and he glances at you whenever the teacher’s not looking.
yeah, you could see it. pretty little loser.
well, maybe not. he acts like one, though.
he plays guitar and he hates octopus and you think it’s probably weird that you know so much random stuff about him. so what? it’s not like you like him.
he dyes his hair a lot, and he has a pet bird, and he’s just stupid choi beomgyu.
you don’t even know why you’re writing this. it’s not even a crush.
yeah, whatever.
“wanna fuck?”
he wriggles his way into your room somehow, plopped on your bed.
“yeah, no,” you scoff, “i don’t want any of this–”
you gesture at him vaguely, fingers swiggling through the air dismissively, “--even remotely close to me.”
“baby–”
“don’t call me that.”
“[nameeeeeeeeeee], i’ve slept in your dorm,” he whines, legs kicking off the side of your bed, “you hid me in the closet after curfew, does that mean nothing to you??????”
“doesn’t count,” you riposte, eyeing the shoes still on his feet scathingly, “and take off your damn shoes, you’re defiling my sacred place.”
“whatever,” he grumbles, slipping off your blankets and trudging to the little shoe rack at the entrance, “can we at least make out or something?”
“ugh, don’t be such a freak,” you roll your eyes, swiveling your chair around specifically to judge him, “is sex seriously all you think about?”
“of course not,” he protests, placing his shoes neatly next to yours, “i think about, like, music and you and stuff.”
“besides,” he continues with an easy smirk; his confidence is only hot sometimes. other times it’s an absolute pain in the ass, “you say that as if you don’t play just as big of a role in this relationship.”
“we are not in a relationship,” you snort.
“okay, situationship,” he mutters. you can tell he’s a bit unhappy with such a perfunctory label.
he lapses into silence and you return your attention to your revision notes for your physics exam. beomgyu stays firmly rooted to your bed, hugging a few of your plushies and aiming puppy-dog eyes at the back of your head.
you glance back, after a while, returning his googly gaze with an unimpressed one. he’s wearing a choker today, hair tidy for once considering what he normally does in your dorm, plush lips set in a little pout again.
…
“fine.” you leave your chair, giving him an unashamed once-over as you approach him, “we can make out. just don’t inhale me or anything, that takes way too long and i’ll have to shove you in a closet again.”
he really is like a dog, in the way he practically pounces on you. his lips find yours desperately, hands slipping up your top.
he’s so greedy, teeth sinking into your lower lip before his tongue’s slipping into your mouth.
a breathy gasp escapes you, fingers curling into his hair and pulling him closer. beomgyu gives a low whine when you tug on it harshly, his hands leaving your waist from beneath your shirt.
he can be obedient, occasionally.
you can tell when he starts forgetting your instructions, he keeps nudging you towards the bed. he’s kissing you so sloppily; he’s been dreaming about this for days, hasn’t he?
your mind goes a bit fuzzy when he pulls away from you with a string of spit that his tongue swipes over, and you almost pull him back to you before the world spins back into clarity.
“wanna fuck now?” he pants, lips all glossy from you.
he’s leaning over you, drinking in the sight of you sprawled beneath him.
you swat at him half-heartedly, “okay, get out of my dorm. be grateful i let you kiss me at all.”
he’s too high off your taste to object, complying readily for once. you push him off you and towards the door.
“thank you, baby,” he chirps obnoxiously, trying to lean in for another kiss.
“don’t call me that,” you shove him irritatedly, eventually relenting and giving him a quick peck before shooing him off.
he takes his sweet time to leave, finally parading off with a ebullient spring in his step. dork.
you close the door with a demure slam, for the sake of self-respect, letting out a quiet scoff.
idiot.
you don’t even know why you keep him around. his facecard is genuinely the only thing saving him.
that, and he’s not nearly as stupid as he likes to make himself seem.
…
actually, you take that back.
“hey!” you poke your head out of your room, “you left your shoes, you–”
“...dumbass.”
he hasn’t gotten very far yet, and you can still clearly decipher the heart he forms with his hands raised above his head as he skips away like a little unicorn princess.
“mine now!” you call out without thinking, resisting the urge to send the pair reeling towards him. your aim sucks, but you could probably nail him with one of them.
even with his back towards you, you can tell he’s grinning.
stupid loser lover
you almost flip him off, before you are reminded that i) he can’t even see you, ii) you’re carrying the asshole’s shoes, and iii) his tongue was in your mouth, like, less than a minute ago.
you question briefly when your dignity had started crumbling to such a low, before you inevitably accept your fate and close the door once more.
“are you dating beomgyu?”
sakura bumps her shoulder into yours, eyebrows waggling in that slightly impressive but also slightly concerning way.
“i would hope not,” you scoff, “why, has he been trying to convince you to ship us or something?”
sakura hums, “maybe…”
“it’s been working~” she sing-songs.
sakura glances at a table a few across, prompting you to follow her line of sight involuntarily.
beomgyu’s laughing too loud again, head tipped back, hair falling into his eyes. he sounds like a donkey.
someone from his linear algebra class is sitting across from him, leaning in like she’s known him longer than five minutes.
she hasn’t.
you know this because you know everything about him. unfortunately.
“so he does have a girlfriend,” sakura murmurs, “for what it’s worth, you were too good for him anyway.”
you huff, “you’re only realizing that now?”
from a distance you can only hear bits and pieces of beomgyu’s conversation. it’s nothing personal; you learn quite a lot about people through eavesdropping. the knowledge isn’t always valuable.
“you’re so funny!” the girl teases, reaching out to touch his arm, and you almost choke. she’s a bit flushed, probably off that high of adrenaline.
funny. right.
you look away, sighing as sakura’s round boba eyes bore into you immediately, “what?”
“nothing, nothing,” she assures you, a little happily. it reminds you of how she acts reading her online fanfiction, “you just seem a bit annoyed.”
“i’m just hungry,” you tell her, keeping your gaze fluctuated between sakura and your food.
“oop— he’s looking,” she ducks her head away quickly, pretending to pick at her food. knowing beomgyu, he’s probably drilling holes into your skull waiting for your reaction, “also, you’re not fooling me. you’re definitely jealous.”
“whether i’m jealous or not—which i’m not—is not of relevance here,” you answer, unamused, “besides, it doesn’t even matter! as long as i have you it’s more than enough.”
“not for me,” she smiles smugly, preening with her little puppet strings of matchmaking, “i want a rom-com to eat popcorn to, if i’m stuck with you.”
“if I’m acting in it i expect to be paid,” you retort.
“you will be paid in mine and beomgyu’s love and affection,” she responds cheekily, quite literally inching her cheek towards yours.
your gaze finally darts back to beomgyu out of habit. he locks eyes with you immediately. he always looks to check.
he smirks at you, gesturing subtly at the girl with his head.
two can play that game. you give him the one thing he despises: a scoff of your own and radio silence.
if his weapon is provocation, yours is indifference.
game. set. match.
the girl’s name is winter. you meet her formally when you’re assigned to tutor her.
“is it weird that i never thought you were smart?” winter queries, a bit too bluntly for your taste as you arrange the table with textbooks and stationary.
“that’s a bit rude,” you give that downward smile, frowning slightly.
her eyes widen, “no, no, not like that! i meant like, i always thought you were super pretty and i don’t know many people who are pretty and smart, you know?”
you give a laugh, resisting the urge to place a hand on her head. she’s cute, enough to disarm you into wanting to treat her like a kid, “so are you.”
“i’m the one being tutored,” she counters, peering at you a little abashedly, “so I wouldn’t really call myself smart.”
“come on, it’s one subject! we all have our weaknesses,” you settle for squeezing her shoulder steadily, smiling easily, “besides, you have the greatest tutor in the world; literature’ll be like blinking to you soon.”
“yeah, yep, let’s do this!” she nods fervently, blinking a few times in quick succession.
you pause, succumbing to a laugh once more, “i reminded you to consciously blink, didn’t i?”
“you just did,” she gives a little pout.
“oops, sorry.”
she’s quite a diligent pupil, actually. she color-codes her notes with different pens and hums quietly when she’s scanning over passages.
her tune ends up being an earworm by the end of the session, and even with the song ringing through your head you forget to ask her what it is as she’s leaving.
“…alright, so same time and place next week. I’ll give you my number, if you need anything just text or call me.”
you walk her out of the library, typing your number into her phone. as you save it, you glimpse a ‘beomgyu’ in her contacts.
you give the phone back to her, “see you around, then?”
winter smiles shyly, “see you!”
she rounds the corner as you turn back to where you were before, the little clutter of a table. halfway through the session you had received a text of, ‘wait for me there’ and decided out of the goodness of your heart to stay and wait.
you check some of your notifications. your socials are blowing up with their usual activity; people liking your posts, sakura and ryujin spamming you with their for you page, giselle asking if there’s any homework.
your emails are mainly pinterest and a few online subscriptions. your weverse is a flood of goddesses, your photos is panicking about its full storage, beomgyu is continuously texting you updates every two seconds on how close he is to arriving.
5:41 pm
beomgyu: outside rn
you glance at the entrance and sure enough, a familiar grin and head of messy hair is parked there.
“what do you want?” you greet, as he shuffles up to you.
“soooo?” he starts, smiling in that childishly expectant way, like when a kid scribbles yarn or something and expects you to compliment it. just like with kids, you still do it.
“…what do you want to hear?”
“are you jealous?” he asks innocuously, shifting from foot to foot.
“no,” you answer firmly, “she’s quite cute. maybe i would’ve been jealous if you could actually pull her.”
“i did!” he replies, eyebrows setting petulantly, “she laughed at my purposely bad joke and she thinks my band is cool.”
“purposely?” you snort.
“really, that’s what you’re fixating on here?”
you shrug, “i mean, she acted that way around me too. i doubt she was flirting with you.”
“well, maybe she likes both of us,” he proffers, a little sulkily.
“no,” you deny, “actually, maybe? I don’t know.”
“nevertheless,” you continue, “you’re not going to get the ego boost you want, gyu.”
he parts his lips to speak, before he falters.
“…gyu?” he questions.
“what?” you cross your arms, “you don’t like it?”
“no, no,” he shakes his head wildly, a wobbly smile distorting his expression, “it’s just… you never call me that.”
he always mulls the weirdest things.
“whatever.”
you start to walk out and he steps into pace beside you. you suppose he’s walking you home again. to your slight surprise, he rounds the corner as well.
you don’t bother to bid him goodbye. he’ll probably break into your dorm later on anyway.
5:53 pm
gyu: were u at least a bit jealous
gyu: my ego hasn’t been boosted enough for the day
[nickname]: loser
[nickname]: if it makes u shut up then yeah a bit
gyu: yippee :D
gyu: can i come over
gyu: i just walked the other way so i wouldn’t seem too needy
[nickname]: sure ig
[nickname]: u can come get your shoes from last time
gyu: <3
“answer it,” you tell him.
beomgyu bites his lip harshly, catching over a ‘shit’ when you circle the tip of his cock with your thumb, “i-it’s one of the girls in my class.”
“which one? chaewon? seori?” your other hand finds his neck, sliding your index through his choker, “actually, it doesn’t matter. pick it up.”
you can feel his adam’s apple bob against your hand as he swallows thickly, bringing the phone to his ear with trembling fingers and accepting the call.
“hello?” he breathes.
speaker, you mouth.
“hiiiii, gyu,” chaewon’s voice rings out brightly.
“hey,” he manages, fingers digging into his phone case when you wrap your lips around his cock, “what’s ah up?”
she laughs quietly, “nothing, really. i just wanted to check in on you.”
“oh, mm,” he forces himself up halfway, leaning against the headboard. his cock hits the back of your throat, and you choke a little, salivating around his length, “that’s, uh– fuck.”
“are you okay?”
“yeah, yeah,” he bites down his whimpers, hips rocking subtly into your mouth, “sorry, what were you saying?”
god, it’s so hard to focus with the way your lips are around him, warm and wet and sinful–
chaewon gives a sigh, “listen, can i be honest with you for a second? i’m not– this isn’t really just me checking in.”
he’s close, sliding back down on the bed as he struggles to keep upright. you can feel the way his thighs tense around your head, the little noises he can’t bite back.
“s-sure, of course,” his fingers find your hair, curling into your locks, “did something happen?”
“it’s a bit hard to say,” chaewon lets out a half-hearted, mostly heavy huff of laughter, “you’re, um, really cute and i’ve never really had the courage to ask this before, but you seemed, y’know, interested in me with all your jokes and stuff, and i guess what i’m trying to say is, do you have a girlfriend?”
if beomgyu wasn’t pooling all of his energy in trying to cum soundlessly, he would probably flaunt his victory to you. see, the girls like my jokes! winter did like me! blah blah blah blah blah.
it’s all mush to him right now, when you gaze up at him coquettishly and suck. his jaw snaps up, teeth stuttering as his fingers tug at your hair, unable to suppress the quiet string of whines he lets out, cock weeping in your mouth. he thinks he might pass out, chaewon’s voice blaring in his ears and your lips around him.
“a-ah, it’s complicated,” his tongue rattles independent of his brain, voice breaking a little, “it’s, uhm, like a situationship, we’re not really– jesus.”
you fondle his balls gently, pace slowing as you run your tongue along the underside of his cock.
“...is this a bad time?” chaewon asks hesitantly. beomgyu barely processes her words, only a faint, quickly forgotten realization that she’s probably caught on.
he can’t answer, not when your mouth is suddenly replaced with your other hand, stroking him mean, his cock coated with precum and spit. his phone slips from his fingers, onto the rug next to your bed with a quiet thud. he’s uncaring of the noises he’s making now, broken moans slipping past his lips, nearly bitten raw.
he can’t even keep his eyes open, but when he musters the strength to meet yours there’s something almost possessive consuming your gaze. you really were jealous, he registers faintly. it’s like a prize he’s always sought, the saccharine honey rain of praise washing over him.
“m’ so close, please, just a little more,” tears start to form, the humiliation tightening in beomgyu’s stomach when he hears the quiet click of chaewon hanging up, quickly overridden by thoughtless depravity when the coil in his stomach snaps and he’s gone, cum splattering all over your hand and your chest. he’s rutting pathetically into your fist through his orgasm.
“fuck, fuck, it’s so good, so good,” he murmurs deliriously, “thank you, baby, thank you, mm.”
you get off him, muttering quiet insults that he doesn’t fully process. something along the lines of ‘fucking disgusting, getting off to that’ and ‘such a freak, are you really into that shit?’
yes, beomgyu decides with the little cognizance he has left, he is.
he’s still blissed out on your bed when you return from the bathroom, makeup re-touched and looking as pristine as those zoomed-in 4K photos of diamonds.
“is my lip gloss smudged? i couldn’t fix all of it in time.”
you dab at your mouth lightly, turning your face in your dresser mirror to assess the remaining extent of damages.
beomgyu doesn’t even bother straightening up. he’s learned the hard way that him thinking you look good is fundamentally different from your standards.
“probably,” he mumbles, still only half-awake, “i only see you when it’s smudged.”
you cast him a dismayed glance through the mirror, “oh my god, just– do i look like we just fucked?”
he hauls himself up slowly, leaning forward to see your reflection, “no.”
“good,” you huff, “i do not need other people seeing me like that.”
“oh, in that case, yes.” his energy returns miraculously, out of the blue, as he immediately slides off your bed.
“you’re just saying that because you don’t want me to go out.”
“...yeah.”
it could be his imagination, but he sometimes he feels like you’re a bit nicer after sex. maybe you get too tired to keep bullying him. either way he’s got nothing to complain about, except…
“why can’t you stay with me?” he pouts.
“because,” you glance at him pointedly, “i actually have friends to spend time with.”
“i have friends too!”
“go game with them, then.”
he ‘hmphs’ quietly. you peer back, really look at him for a moment.
there’s that tired gleam in his eyes, that quiet satisfaction. he smiles a little dumbly when you reach out to cup his face, nails curling into his hair.
huh. you’re getting soft.
“if you wait long enough, i might come back early,” you flick his cheek.
“really?”
“heh, probably not. i just wanna see how long you’d wait.”
he drapes himself over you in retaliation, “don’t wanna wait. stay here.”
you falter, tensing in his arms. you should already be at that party, kissing random friends for dares and taking Instagram photos with promiscuous captions
…
quite long, you come to find out, when you find him face-down in your bed past midnight.
“jesus,” you mutter, trying to haul him up. his prostrate form refuses to budge. screw it. you’ll go shower first and deal with him after.
the stupid parasite scores himself a night in your bed somehow, blinking blearily at you as you finally return to bed and let him be, lying down next to him facing away.
“[nickname]?” his nose finds the crook of your neck drowsily, voice a little thick with sleep.
you shush him reluctantly, a little tense in his arms. it’s strange to have him here, next to you. sure, you fuck or whatever, but knowing someone in bed is different from knowing them sleeping in it.
he murmurs in his sleep against your shoulder, hair tickling your neck. his voice always sounds a bit sleepy, in that warm way, but here it’s amplified. you rarely let him sleep over, only on rare occasions like his birthday or when he’s sick and pestering him to take care of you and–
fuck.
choi beomgyu is your boyfriend.
“fine,” you relent, after a long hard silence of sakura dawdling expectantly.
“what?” she bats her eyes suggestively.
“...you’ll be getting a rom-com to watch after all,” you begrudge, forcing out the words like they’re sour.
“i know,” sakura glances over your shoulder, where beomgyu is staring all lovey-dovey from behind, “he’s been making goo-goo eyes at you for the past few minutes. why don’t you let him sit with us for lunch?”
you glance back as well, where beomgyu is indeed drooling with his eyes. yeonjun, taehyun, soobin and hueningkai have all left already, and you suppose your boyfriend has lingered with the sole purpose of waiting until you’re done with your meal.
maybe it’s because of the way he smiles at you like a puppy or how soft his hair looks; it doesn’t matter. you wave him over.
“i can’t wait to go on double dates together,” sakura sighs dreamily, “i just have to pull taehyun out of his magic tricks and we’re all set.”
“yeah, isn’t his magic so dorky?” beomgyu snorts, settling in next to you, “we can go laugh at stuff he’s bad at together.”
“is there anything he’s bad at?” you query, letting beomgyu link his pinky with yours beneath the table.
“probably not,” sakura admits, “sometimes i don’t know if i want to be him or be with him.”
“you’re already with him,” you shrug, “may as well take the next step. between the two of us, you’re the only one who has a boyfriend worth becoming.”
beomgyu pouts, “what’s that supposed to mean?!”
“you’re proving my point.”
you pick at the kernels of rice still left on your plate, ultimately opting to sacrifice them in favor of fooling around for the few minutes left of your lunch break.
“where do you want to go?” you ask. beomgyu’ll probably say something dorky like ‘i’ll go anywhere as long as you’re there’ and sakura will probably say something like ‘convenience store for snacks and then you’ll probably reply with something like “let’s go” or “sure” or maybe “let’s stay forever (derogatory).”
it’s not a bad place to be.
“god, you’re pathetic,” you pant.
you’re straddling him, knees on either side of his chest. he’s practically drooling by the time you lean down, gripping his chin harshly.
“fuck,” he blubbers eloquently, teeth digging into your finger clumsily, “fuck, m’sorry.”
“for what?” your nails are crescent moons in his skin. his head spins, “good boys shouldn’t need to be sorry.”
“no– mhm, not a good boy,” he exhales shakily, “been bad, m’sorry.”
He goes slack-jawed for a moment when you slap him. to your surprise, and mild horror, he whimpers; not the pained, fragile kind. no, the full-bodied kind that he makes when he’s close.
“fucking freak,” you degrade, barely holding back a gasp when his saliva coats your fingers, “you’re pathetic.”
he responds with parted lips and an irrepressible reverence in his gaze. god, he’s depraved.
you force him up halfway. he’s already a goner by the time you kiss him, spilling into his pants.
beomgyu’s pliant beneath you, blissed out as you get off of him.
“disgusting,” you mutter, but he’s too euphoric to care. he thinks you go to the bathroom, maybe to wash your hands.
he barely processes it when you return with a camera, rather than clean hands.
you hold it up, the faint beginnings of a smirk starting in your eyes.
“smile for the camera, gyu.”
he has to be dreaming, because there’s no way so many of his fantasies could be getting fulfilled in one day. he forgets that it’s his birthday, forgets that he practically begged you on his knees to indulge his kinks just this once.
‘i want you to be really mean to me, you know? really get in there and ruin me.’
“happy birthday.”
“what’s something that always makes you happy?”
giselle asks you this as an offhand remark some random Tuesday, and for some reason it is the very question that plays through your mind as you watch the rain falling before the window of your dorm. it changes with your mind.
sometimes your answer is the pictures of beomgyu on your phone, or sakura choking on ice cream after laughing too hard or maybe watching taehyun and yeonjun and soobin and hueningkai and beomgyu fail at cooperating in multiplayer matches or the promise of better days or simply the prospect of having sources of happiness at all.
but for now, you like to consider your happiness dependent upon nameable things, like the boy curled against you and your heart in your arms.
what a loser, you think, but you can’t tell if you’re referring to beomgyu or yourself anymore.
what a loser, you think, of him this time.
“your loser,” he murmurs, hair tickling your neck.
hubby soob who thinks his pervy days would end cuz now he’s a Husband and will eventually be a Father and doesn’t need to resort to such things but god now that y’all are settled into ur new home, he can’t think of anything but fucking you on every surface to ensure there’s not a square inch of the house that doesn’t have him getting hard at the memory. especially since ur so comfy in ur new place you barely bother wearing underwear and it would be so easy to make it happen
ahaha sorry soobin the pervy never ends~~ also what a soobin thing to own a house lol idk y
husband!soobin and his constant perverted thoughts, god, he’s fucked once his eyes spot something n he instantly thinks of sex… such a pervert </3 smooth marble counters have him wanting to prop you up and bury his face between your thighs, your pretty hands clinging tightly to his hair, the balcony such a nice place to cockwarm him while he feels up your plush tits, shhh… haven’t even mentioned the bathroom and living room. husband!soobin who can’t keep his hands to himself on your first night of moving in, haven’t even received any furniture yet and sleeping on the floor,,, well, would be sleeping if soobin wasn’t moaning in your ear about how pretty his wife is, can have you all to himself without worrying about neighbors as he pushes your pretty body into doggy <3 his hard cock thrusting from behind, sloppy and romantic as his hands grope your tits, his chest pressed to your back as soobin whimpers how good it feels, wanna cum so badly inside,,, after all, didn’t you get a house to have a family~? husband!soobin breeding you so full of his cum as he sighs and clings to your body, burying his face in your shoulder while lying on the blanket on the floor, murmuring about how you’re gonna have his baby soon enough <3
sigh… unpacking with husband soobin also takes forever. he’s blushing when his cum drips down your thigh whenever you lean over to pick something up… pretty wife, his hands are grabbing your ass and pushing you on a box, spreading your thighs. and soobin and his pretty dimpled smile when he sees how wet you are, pussy seeping his cum and your arousal, whimper n ask him to fill you up again~? his massive length filling you up to the cervix, as soobin presses his forehead to yours, touching the bulge in your tummy… gonna have to make you even more full of his love, isn’t he~? breed his wife all pretty until you’re swollen with his baby? and husband!soobin who forgets about unboxing… as he lies you down against the box and abuses your pussy with hard thrusts, holding your hand against your tummy to feel his cock twitch deep inside, sharing sweet kisses <3 and the way he groans, filling you up to the brim with his cum and fantasizing about how swollen n pretty you’ll be, feeling up your tits as he thinks about how full n heavy they’ll be… fuck, he’s hard again <3 so… where haven’t you fucked get~? might as well christen it now… before you have kids running around~~
omg mille…toxic breeding kink soobin and you getting into an argument bc he’s too possessive. so you guys are arguing back and forth but soobin was the cutest little pout and his frown pulls at your heart strings!!! you can’t stay mad at your bin for too long! so what do you guys do? of course you let him shove you into the mattress, gotta make it up to him somehow~ and soobin is one to take advantage of every opportunity he’s given!! you think he’s too possessive and might consider leaving him? well, he’ll make sure to give you something that will anchor you to him for at least 9 months and if you’re more traditional? it’ll be at least 18 years or longer if you just keep letting him pump you full of his seed >_<
O.O i—i think i lost all the brain cells
an argument with possessive!soobin… you’ll never win. so maybe he yanked you away from doing something important without a reason, insisting you had to go, his large frame around yours as he almost has to carry you off, a look of restrained annoyance on his face as he judges you into the car, smothering anger as he drives. and possessive!soobin clenching the steering wheel as he snaps after you’ve told him he can’t do that… but beneath the anger, there’s a throbbing fear, so scared you’ll ever leave, he couldn’t bear the thought. and he won’t say what it was, all that you know is that soobin practically dragged you away, pushing you into your shared apartment with an unusual urgency. he can’t help it, he’s so possessive even the slightest fear has him on edge… so no matter how much you argue, he’ll say it was for your own good, breaking into a sad pout, sadly mumbling that he just can’t say what it was, so fearful that the thought will incite you to leave. and he knows how jealous he is, so unreasonably envious and possessive, but he can’t help it… and so shhh, stay with him?
soobin and his addictive kisses, murmuring if he can make it up to you, sweet manipulation tasting like his love as his lips move against yours, needy and begging for a second chance (maybe ifs… oh, who can keep count~?) and possessive!soobin who shoved you deeper and deeper into the sheets, his lips finding your pretty tits as he tugs down your neckline, an endless mantra of three words, laced with a touch of heavenly reassurances. his heavy bulge pressed against your leg as his lips needily suckle your soft tits, wet with saliva from kisses, your pretty whines only encouraging him further, trailing kisses up your neck as he tugs down his sweatpants, let him~? and possessive!soobin who manipulates your mind, shhh, forget those silly pills you once took… they’ve been sugar for a month now. so dont resist as his big cock pushes into your tight pussy, let him touch the bulge in your tummy with his big hand, thinking of how full you’ll be, of his love. and how you’ll never leave, if he fills you up just as he desires, darling, never think of a thought beyond him. and soobin whose big cock can send you to seventh heaven, so fucked dumb from his size and heavy thrusts, lavish love in the form of marks and messy kisses, don’t think at all. be addicted to his love, beg for him, and only for him as he cums inside, hot seed filling you up to the brim, so much of his possession flooding his mind as his lips claim yours, never think more about it, darling. and soobin who can’t bear to only give you one load… no, you have to take more, ensure you’re his for eternity as he fucks you dumb, pretty love of his all fertile as his cum stains the sheets, spilling from your abused pussy as you beg you can’t take any more, only for soobin’s sugary manipulation to whisper in your ear that he has to, take one more load, sweetheart~? he knows you can, after all… he’ll do anything to keep you his, and wouldn’t you love to bear your shared love, stay with him?
bonus; possessive!soobin who’s in a daze, he lost his mind as he pulls out, cum leaking from your pussy and all sweaty, his bangs sticking to his forehead as he greedily stares at your full tummy, long fingers pushing down slightly to see more cum seep out >< whispering a soft promise to love you forever, a kiss pressed to your forehead as his hand rests on your abdomen <3
goddamn possessive soobin n his breeding kink gets me @.@
