[rroseselavyyy]

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min yoongi

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒spider to the fly - myg

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒wolf in the breast - myg

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒unison - myg

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒tattoo - myg

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒vespertine - myg

kim namjoon

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒love me more - knj

jung hoseok

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒play me like a violin - jhs

jeon jungkook

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒ special needs - jjk

kim seokjin

࣪ ִֶָ☾.⭒lavender moon - ksj

kim taehyung

--

park jimin

--

[mysilent879]

[pegasus-astrology]

Draconic Astrology

So I get questions about Draconic astrology all the time, and have been wanting to explore it in detail with you all. I’ll start by laying out the basics:

You can create your Draconic chart on astro.com, under Extended Chart Selection > Please select the type of chart you want. It will be in that drop-down menu, near the very end. You can either select a Draconic chart, or a Comparison natal-draconic. Just for ease of use you can start out with the former, and look at the comparison when you’re ready to start weaving together both of your charts.

So how is the Draconic chart calculated? It takes your North Node and shifts it over to 0 degrees Aries. However many degrees that takes is how many degrees the rest of your chart will shift. The house placements will remain the same, but the planets will be in different signs. As will the Rising and the rest of the house cusps. If you’re not familiar with the lunar nodes, they are points in the sky where the Moon crosses the ecliptic. They are also known as the Dragon’s Head (North / Rahu) and Tail (South / Ketu). The North Node shows us what our destiny is, what lessons we must learn in this life. The South Node shows us our past lives, what lessons we’ve already learned, what we’ve brought into this life.

In a sense, we can think that this is a chart inside a chart, and it is unlocked by bringing the North Node (the destiny) to the beginning of Aries - the first spark of self. If your North Node is already in Aries in your Tropical chart, your Draconic chart will not be much different. This is because your destiny is already interwoven with finding and expressing your true self. You are already doing the work of the Draconic chart. For the rest of us, there is going to be a discrepancy between the two.

I think you will find that when you create your Draconic chart, you will feel a deep resonance with it, and you may also be surprised, not in the sense that it seems unlike you, but surprised to face your true self. This is what the Draconic chart represents, it is the soul, the self within the self. It goes beyond this life, it is the energy of your soul stream, floating above you in space, trying to communicate its essence into your every day life. In exploring the Draconic chart, we shift who we are, because we come to awareness of this special energy within us.

Now this is not to say you aren’t truly your natal chart. That is the doorway through which your Draconic self, your soul, comes down to Earth. For whatever reason, you needed the characteristics in your natal chart during this incarnation. It almost feels, to me, that these are characteristics that would suit your needs early in life. There is a synchronicity between the day you were born, the family you will grow up with, and the person you will become. It seems that there is a cause and effect going on here that has little to do with the birth-date. You were born, your family shaped you, and you became a certain way. But in astrology, we see that these things are acausal, in the sense that the personality was picked before incarnation, and the appropriate birthday was chosen with astrology in mind. There is a reason behind your natal chart, and you will never leave it behind, even after knowing your Draconic chart.

The Draconic chart is there to remind you of who you truly are, beyond this. Although you are a singular person living her on Earth, with a certain personality, there is a soul-stream behind you that also has its own ‘personality.’ We can access this through the Draconic and it is a boon to us, it is a gift to know this energy, because it is like coming home to ourselves.

If you are able to, you can imagine that there is another ‘you’, watching from above. You can think of it as the soul, the higher self, whatever is sensible to you. The Draconic chart tells you what they’re like.

The Draconic Sun - your true light, your true identity and essence. This shining light bursts its rays through your natal Sun, which also is you. It is almost as if the natal chart is a costume, a costume that defines our identity for this incarnation. It is in no way fake, it is in no way meaningless. But the Draconic chart goes beyond this life, and must be remembered.

The Draconic Moon - your soul’s urge, your soul’s desire, the inner self of the inner self. This is the most important part of the Draconic chart, because the Moon is more in line with the soul. This is the seat of the soul.

The Draconic Rising - this is the way your soul approaches all endeavors. While the natal Rising is the medium between you and the world, the Draconic Rising is the medium between your soul and all experience. It probably describes the way your soul approached incarnating on Earth in the first place.

The Draconic IC - this is something I learned from Alyssa Sharpe’s video, which I recommend watching. She explains that the Draconic Imum Coeli (the 4th house cusp) is the family we expected to get when we incarnated, the family we really needed. The natal IC is the one we actually got.

The Draconic Descendant - in this same line of thinking, we could guess that maybe the Draconic Descendant (7th house cusp) describes the type of relationship our soul desires. The natal Descendant might be what we normally seek out in this life, while the Draconic would perhaps fit our soul better.

The Draconic Midheaven - the MC is the energy we bring out into the world, opposite from what we experienced in the family (IC). If the Draconic IC is what we wanted from a family, the Draconic MC is the energy we would be ready to bring out into the world. Instead, we have the natal MC, which balances out our home-life. The Draconic MC may be our soul’s greatest aspirations here on Earth.

The Draconic Venus - this is the soul’s way of relating, the way our soul wants to love and be loved. It may be a more natural way of expressing in relationship, once we get in contact with it. The natal Venus may be the way we have learned to love and relate.

The Draconic Mars - this is what really gets our soul going, what drives it. The way we express our energy may be different than what our soul desires.

The Draconic Chiron - this is the soul’s wound. This is how we have been wounded at a soul-level, in this lifetime and in others. This wound cuts to our core, while the natal Chiron may feel more like a wound to the personality.

The Draconic Jupiter is what expands our soul, while the Saturn restricts.

When it comes to the outer planets, I have not found a specific way of interpreting them, because the house placement has always been more important for them, and that stays the same in the Draconic chart.

These are just some brief ways of thinking about this - I think it is more important to meditate on your Draconic placements, alongside your natal placements, and ask yourself - how do these feel to me? How would I feel if I embodied the Draconic placements - would I feel more ‘true’ to myself? more ‘real’ and ‘authentic’?

Another interesting thing to look at is the comparison chart between the two. Pay attention to the conjunctions. I’ll give an example from my charts. I have a natal Chiron in Leo, and a draconic Leo Sun. They are conjunct. We can see from this that in my personality, there is a wound around self-expression. But it is the essence of my soul, to express. My soul’s Sun has to work its way through my Chiron, through my wound, in order to get to me. Another conjunction I have - natal Mercury in Aries, draconic Moon in Aries. Before I saw my draconic, one of the only places I really asserted myself aggressively was in the classroom, or in debates, or in conversation. It’s as if my soul’s urge (Moon) to assert and dominate as an Aries only had this outlet - through my mind (Mercury). My natal Venus is also in Aries, but it is conjunct my draconic Neptune. In this case, it is my soul’s sense of Oneness (Neptune) that is trying to be expressed in the sphere of love (Venus).

I hope some of these ideas help you - as I said, there is not much information on the Draconic chart, and so this is mostly my own thoughts on it.

- Pegasus Astrology / Lauren Crowley

[rroseselavyyy]

I think I resonate with my draconic chart placements more because I have zero leo placements in my natal chart, on the other hand, I have leo moon in my draconic chart and I always felt like I deep down act and think like a leo. I also have pisces stellium in my draconic chart which explains why my love language leans towards piscean themes. It's indeed interesting

[wontune]

᭡᱖ haru [ xlov ] lockscreens

[taexual]

. . . d e l i r i u m | 6

we don’t hesitate to draw the line, you still send shivers down my spine /// arrows in action, corner of your mind

pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader

summary: sometimes love and hate exist on opposite ends of the map. other times, on separate floors of the same building.

genre: ex!yeonjun / enemies to lovers au / neighbour au

warnings: slow burn, mutual pining & yearning (it got worse), strong language, some suggestive themes, tons of ill-advised flirting, fluff (wtf), little shit!jjun, anddd we’re back to characters being in denial (jk we never left)

words: 14.4k

[ ! ] this is a sequel to equilibrium

masterlist / read from the beginning

✦ • ─── SEPTEMBER 4, 2026. 7:45 PM

Yeonjun held the door of his Mercedes open for you, ignoring the five times you’d told him to stop fussing and just get in the car—ignoring, as well, the five other times you’d pointed out that you could just catch a cab.

“I’m the cab,” he declared, gesturing inside again, more insistently. “And we’re going the same way anyway. Come on.”

With a sigh, you ducked inside.

He was glad you did. He feared he was not above begging.

The interior of his car smelled exactly as it had last year: cedarwood from the air freshener clipped to the dashboard, laced with something faintly spicy underneath. The leather seats felt as lush as you remembered, too.

You expected it to feel strange to sit here again. Instead, it felt a bit like tuning in to a film that you’d dropped halfway through some time ago: familiar and surprisingly enjoyable. Enough to drop what you were doing and stand in front of the screen with your hands on your hips.

The door of the car shut with a muted thud.

Outside, the last traces of daylight were still visible on the horizon, glowing red above the distant treetops. The rest of the city had already surrendered to the night. Cars filled the small parking lot bumper-to-bumper, wedged into every impossible gap. Yeonjun had to squeeze past a red Mazda as he rounded the car.

He slid into the driver’s seat with a soft exhale. The engine purred awake, as smooth as always.

It brought an involuntary smile to your lips.

He caught it immediately. “What?”

You shook your head. “Nothing.”

“See,” he said, one corner of his lips lifting, “I don’t believe that’s true.”

“Drive.”

“Seatbelt.”

You pulled the seatbelt across your chest. It clicked pleasantly beside the seat.

Satisfied, Yeonjun adjusted the rear-view mirror and eased away from the kerb. Streetlights spilt through the windows, sliding across the gold satin of your dress in ribbons of amber and white as the car rolled down the street.

It was captivating.

Not staring at you for the entire drive, he realised, was going to be a significant challenge.

Your dress reminded him of a film poster he’d seen years ago, in the lobby of Taehyun’s old theatre, for a Dorothy Arzner film. It showed a woman draped in gold, standing before a stage curtain with outstretched hands. He’d only noticed the poster because it had been enormous; he’d never actually seen the film.

He wanted to watch it now.

“Are you sure taking your car to Nara’s dinner is a good idea?” you asked, your voice cutting neatly through the mud in his thoughts.

Yeonjun dragged his attention back to the road and merged into traffic. There was a strong scent of petrol in the evening air.

“Yeah,” he said, glancing reflexively at his dashboard. “M’not drinking tonight.”

You angled your head towards him, surprised. “How come?”

He released a deep sigh. The small silver star hanging from the rear-view mirror spun lazily on its chain.

“Had enough last weekend, I figured,” he said.

“Hmm.” You watched the star twirl. “Probably wise.”

He turned past the corner shop just off your block and joined the main street. Streams of headlights flowed towards the city centre.

“Won’t be easy, though,” he said, glancing at his phone in the metal-rimmed tray on the centre console. “Gyu spent the entire day boasting about all the drinks he’d ordered for Nara’s dinner.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. The entire day.” His expression flattened. “Said he only wanted my feedback, and sent this massive list.”

“Well,” you clicked your tongue, gaze flicking briefly to the bottle of Chambord you’d placed by your feet, “you are the self-appointed alcohol expert among us.”

“How am I self-appointed?”

You gave him a flat look. Yeonjun felt the warmth underneath it and gripped the wheel tighter.

“Fine,” he said. “I can see how I might’ve cultivated the reputation.”

“Good that you can.”

His lips curled. “It was good stuff anyway, to be fair. Mead was on his list. Never tried that.”

You shifted slightly in your seat, turning away from the window and a little more towards him.

Yeonjun saw the movement in his peripheral vision and instinctively started turning as well. He caught himself after a second and forced his eyes back to the windscreen before he managed to drive the pair of you into the nearest lamp post.

“Really?” you said. “My gran used to make mead at home. Taught me, too.”

He took a moment to remind himself to breathe. “Oh—yeah? S’impressive.”

“It isn’t very hard.” You crossed your ankles, nudging your handbag aside with the toe of your shoe. “Basically just fermented honey, water, and yeast. Oh, and my gran adds grape juice sometimes, too. S’called pyment then.”

He tilted his head. “Didn’t know that.”

The traffic lights outside briefly turned his face green.

“Soobin didn’t teach you while he was still bartending?” you asked.

“He might’ve.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Your laughter was warm in the car, familiar.

He’d missed it over the past week. He suspected he might turn into a proper clown by the end of tonight.

“So,” he said. “Mead, then.”

“Mhmm.”

“Can you make it at home?”

You considered that, watching the city slide past in fragments of streetlights and windows glowing gold behind half-drawn curtains. There was a massive white bedsheet stirring in the wind on someone’s balcony.

Your thoughts drifted to your grandparents’ farm: the old barn with shelves of empty jars and the beehives just outside. Your grandmother had brewed most of her mead there. You still remembered how warm the jars had been when you carried them inside, heated from the summer sun.

“Technically,” you said, “I guess you can.”

“Oh, fantastic.” Yeonjun tapped the steering wheel with two fingers. The silver bracelet on his wrist jingled softly. “Next weekend’s sorted, then.”

“Would be funny if it was done in a weekend.”

“It’s not?”

You shook your head. “The fermentation alone can take months.”

Ahead, the traffic began to slow. Yeonjun pressed lazily on the brakes, and the Mercedes rolled to a stop in front of a red light. The line of brake lights ahead stretched through the city.

“Alright.” He glanced at you, counted to three, and forced himself to look away again—in small doses, he reasoned, he’d be fine. “What d’you reckon are the odds that people will want to celebrate my birthday for the next few months?”

“Not very high, m’afraid.”

“But I’m loads of fun.”

“I’d say you’ll be lucky if everyone stays for an hour.”

Yeonjun snorted. The red glow outside flicked to green, and the car glided forward so smoothly that your stomach performed a quick flip, caught off guard by the motion.

“Haven’t decided what else I could do,” he admitted after a moment. “For my birthday, I mean.”

You studied his profile, his cheeks warm beneath passing streetlights, then lost to the shadows again.

“Got any ideas?” you asked.

“Well, mead sounded nice, but—”

“Got any realistic ideas?”

A smile spread across his face.

“Not really.” He overtook a Subaru idling half on the pavement and shot the driver a look. “Current plan’s the good old Sit and Drink.”

“Oh, classic,” you said.

“Yeah, timeless.”

“Dull, though.”

He turned to look at you, reflexively preparing to argue. Then he remembered Soobin yelling at him last year, his voice rough from alcohol and panic, one hand gripping the back of Yeonjun’s neck hard enough to leave marks.

He remembered Soobin yelling at him last week, too, after the engagement party. But he’d been too thrown by Reina’s visit to properly process what Soobin was saying on the phone.

“Alright, yeah. Fair.” He shifted in his seat, his hand sliding over the leather cover of the wheel. “Bin threatened to have my stomach pumped last year. Wouldn’t rush to repeat that.”

You stared at him. “That—that’s awful.”

“Yeah. Although the drinking itself was fun.”

“People die from alcohol poisoning.”

He gave you a lighthearted smile. “Bit dramatic, love.”

You didn’t smile back, which startled him enough to look over properly. The glow from the streetlights drifted over your furrowed brows.

It was the nickname, he assumed, already opening his mouth to take it back. Then he realised it wasn’t.

You looked concerned.

Suddenly, he felt a strange sense of lightness, as though he’d just plummeted from the top of a rollercoaster. All breath was gone from his lungs.

“No, really,” he said, more serious now. “It was just unpleasant in my case. Bin mostly wanted to scare me straight.”

“Hmm.” Your gaze dropped to your handbag on the car floor. It rested against the bottle now. “We’re making non-alcoholic mead for your birthday, then.”

His expression brightened, despite another red light ahead.

He remembered the two of you talking about his birthday a year ago, while you still had your bet. You’d made an off-handed comment then, about getting him something stupid as a gift.

Nothing had come of it.

Now he settled for simply hearing that you were a we again.

“Isn’t that technically just water and honey, then?” he asked, clearing his throat to keep his voice steady.

“We can make it with warm water, too.”

He nodded gravely. “Tea with honey, then.”

“Why not?” You swept your hair behind your shoulder, smiling. “Sounds lovely. Good for your liver.”

“And my throat.”

“Of course.”

He laughed, completely lost now to the fresh, fruity scent of your shampoo.

The traffic light changed, but it took him a second to notice. A horn sounded somewhere behind him.

“Alright,” he said, glancing at the rear-view mirror as he pushed the car forward. “Tea for my birthday it is.”

You nodded. “Glad I could help.”

He grinned.

The city lights outside blurred past the windows, each one the colour of your dress.

✦ • ─── SEPTEMBER 4, 2026. 8:15 PM

You and Yeonjun arrived a few minutes late, but judging by the steady stream of people still trickling through the entrance across the street, no one else had been on time, either.

The restaurant sat at the end of a narrow cobbled lane, tucked between ageing buildings, but still impossible to miss. Deep red brick glowed under the uplighting, visible from half a block away. Three steep gables rose into the night sky, their pointed windows warm with light.

There was a fountain burbling by the entrance. White lights illuminated the spray from below, turning every droplet silver. The breeze carried a fine mist across the pavement; it felt damp and cool against your cheeks.

Nara stood by the door, greeting her guests (and, on reflex, occasionally a random restaurant visitor she’d never met before).

“Right,” Yeonjun said, tipping his head back to inspect the arched windows. “She’s gone for a castle, then.”

Your eyes drifted to Nara’s dark green gown, jewel-toned beneath the lights. She looked stunning and perfectly at home here.

“Yeah,” you said. “Starting to feel a bit underdressed, not going to lie.”

Yeonjun glanced at you.

Your arms were folded loosely across your chest, fingers wrapped around the bottle you’d brought for Nara. The light from the fountain rippled across the satin of your dress.

Ever since he’d picked you up after dropping off Violet and getting dressed earlier, he’d been expecting to find the words more easily. Thought he’d simply take whatever compliment he would’ve given Soobin, adjust slightly, and go with that.

Unfortunately, Soobin had never, to Yeonjun’s knowledge, worn a gold satin dress.

“I think,” he began, drawing a measured breath, “this colour is very—”

The bottle vanished from your hands.

You blinked, turning to see Beomgyu standing right behind you, dressed in a black suit with a mahogany turtleneck underneath, examining the label. He offered no explanation for his actions.

“It’s for Nara,” you said.

“Mhmm.” He turned the bottle over. “I’m in charge of the drinks. Go on ahead.”

You looked at Yeonjun.

Yeonjun looked at Beomgyu.

Beomgyu looked at the bottle.

The bottle, of course, had no eyes and therefore did not look at anything.

“I thought the restaurant was in charge of the drinks,” you said. “Isn’t it?”

Beomgyu sniffled, indignant. “Are you questioning my authority?”

“I’d like to give the bottle to her myself.”

His gaze flicked from you to Yeonjun, and a look of immense satisfaction replaced the previous pride on his face.

“Alright,” he said. “Counter-offer. I—”

“No,” you said.

He snorted. “Haven’t even said anything yet.”

“I know you well enough.” You extended your hand. “Hand it over.”

“I’ll hand it over,” Beomgyu said, pulling the bottle out of your reach, “and then I’ll ask you—just out of curiosity, so I’ll do it loudly enough for everyone to hear—whether you and Yeonjun arrived here together. How’s that sound?”

You pressed your lips tight. Beomgyu’s eyes glinted at that.

Beside you, Yeonjun cleared his throat.

“Personally,” he said, “I don’t think there’s anything odd about that.”

“Yeah?” Beomgyu nodded. “I like that.” He pivoted towards the entrance. “Nar—”

You caught his sleeve and yanked him backwards before he could start making a scene.

“Keep the bottle,” you hissed. “And be quiet.”

A victorious grin spread across his face. He made an exaggerated kissing sound, then jogged away before you could change your mind and take the bottle back by force.

Yeonjun watched him brush a hand over Nara’s shoulders and disappear into the restaurant. She hadn’t even glimpsed the bottle.

“Is it bad,” Yeonjun asked, “that we arrived together?”

You sighed, bringing your hand into your handbag to pull out the rest of the gift you’d got for Nara.

“Did you know they were talking about us in the old group chat?” you asked.

Yeonjun did know.

He’d read every message three times, some of them four, and screenshotted his favourites (Taehyun saying, no but i think they’re actually really cute together tbh, and Beomgyu saying, always suspected they’d end up back together). His least favourite ones, he’d long-pressed and deleted from the chat altogether (Taehyun saying, he’s so desperate it’s endearing, and Beomgyu saying, should’ve called an ambulance to help him stand tf up).

“Uh—yeah,” Yeonjun said. “Saw some of it.”

You glanced towards the entrance, pulling the zipper of your bag closed.

“Yeah,” you said. “If we’re actually going to be friends, then I’d like it if it wasn’t a joke.”

Yeonjun felt his heart skip quickly over a beat.

As you approached the entrance together, he noticed you unconsciously drift half a step away from him—a familiar gesture. Protective this time, though. So that this wouldn’t turn into a joke. Because it was serious.

He suspected he really wouldn’t need any alcohol tonight.

Nara didn’t appear to register that you’d arrived together at all. Granted, you immediately distracted her by handing her a narrow box. An assortment of small gemstones sat quietly inside.

Her face lit up as soon as she opened it.

You’d spent most of last week hunting the stones down, searching for something within your price range and visiting enough dodgy online shops to warrant an apology email to your antivirus software. It had been worth it.

“Oh my God,” Nara exclaimed, taking the box from you and clutching your wrist with her free hand. “Oh my God.”

The gemstones caught the light from the chandelier inside, scattering flashes of colour across her face: white and purple and green.

You chuckled. “Do you like them?”

“Oh my God,” she replied. Then she hooked her arm through yours and peeled you away from Yeonjun without bothering to acknowledge he was there at all.

You barely had time to glance over your shoulder.

Yeonjun remained standing on the doorstep, vaguely bewildered. After a momentary glance at the fountain behind him—it offered neither guidance nor sympathy—he followed you inside.

“There’s this elephant charm I’ve been trying to make,” Nara said, steering you through the vast entrance hall. “But the wire keeps slipping out of place.”

The warmth of the restaurant wrapped around you, carrying the scent of wood and candle wax. Somewhere deeper inside, you could hear glasses clinking.

“I figured,” Nara continued, “I could make the body of the elephant by wrapping the wire around a pearl.”

You glanced down at the box in her hands. Three pearls sat in the bottom left corner.

“That sounds lovely,” you said, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “A gift for someone?”

“Not sure yet.” Her fingers drifted absently to the small bear pendant at her neck. “Just thought it’d be cool.”

You smiled—then suddenly stopped as the two of you entered the dining room.

The sheer scale of it hit you at once. Massive stone columns soared towards vaulted ceilings high overhead; you could hardly look down once you’d looked up. Deep emerald banquettes curved around dark, circular tables. Chandeliers hung between the arches, casting pools of warm light across the faces of other diners, all engaged in hushed conversations.

The place had the feel of an ancient cathedral. Or perhaps Hogwarts.

You found yourself wondering, once again, what exactly Nara did for a living.

“Spacious,” you observed, nodding ahead.

Nara followed your gaze.

“Right?” She pointed towards the far end of the room. “I actually had to ask the manager where the toilets were.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Already forgot, though, so don’t ask.”

You laughed softly, suddenly too aware of the crowds around you, and followed her inside. Behind you, Yeonjun’s footsteps kept pace with yours.

“So, where’d the elephant come from?” you asked, glancing at the gemstones.

“Oh.” Nara grinned, pleased to return to her original point. “Beomgyu and I drove past a zoo the other day. He started prattling on about elephants, said they used to have a big enclosure when he was little. Been thinking about that the entire day at work today.”

“Hmm.” You glanced sideways at her. “So, then… uh, what is work?”

She glanced at you, one eyebrow raised. “You know what it is.”

“I don’t, actually.”

Nara turned back to the box in her hands. She didn’t say anything else.

“No, seriously,” you pushed. “I’ve heard rumours you’re running contraband.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “S’nonsense.”

“So, what do you actually do?”

She waved even harder, an involuntary smile spreading across her face. You couldn’t tell what it was supposed to mean.

You clicked your tongue. “Fine, then. Keep your secrets.”

Snickering, she brought a finger over the edge of an amethyst in the box.

“They bring luck, did you know?” she said, tucking a stray strand of her curled hair behind her ear. “The elephants.”

“I’ve heard that, yeah.”

“Big fan of luck, personally.”

“Hmm.”

A waiter appeared by her side, giving you both a perfect, welcoming smile. He gestured ahead and guided you the rest of the way towards a long table near the back.

The further you walked, the larger the room seemed to become. People filled nearly every table, dressed in tailored suits and elegant dresses, exuding effortless luxury that made you look down at your feet. Nara warned you not to mind them; she hadn’t bothered renting out the whole restaurant and, in fact, seemed to enjoy having an audience for her birthday.

No one seemed to notice you. You still felt out of place.

At the table, Nara thanked the waiter with another nod before taking charge.

“Sit here,” she instructed, directing you towards an empty chair between Reina and Kai.

As you stepped forward, Reina stood up, throwing her arms around you as though you hadn’t seen each other in eight months instead of eight hours. She was clearly already tipsy.

Once you pulled back, Kai lifted both hands expectantly from his seat. His hug came slightly compressed, as it hadn’t occurred to him to stand from his chair. He was clearly tipsy as well.

“And you—” Nara pointed at Yeonjun, “—across from her, yeah?”

Yeonjun glanced at the table. He didn’t get the chance to respond before Nara suddenly straightened up.

“Wait.” Her eyes bounced between you and him. “No, hang on. If I move Taehyun, you can sit together. Let me—”

“This is fine,” Yeonjun said. He didn’t want this to be a joke either, and crossed the table before he could change his mind. “Thanks.”

You tried not to watch him go.

Nara watched you trying not to watch him.

“Okay,” she said slowly. The vivid red of her lipstick made the smirk on her lips more noticeable. “Settle in, then.”

You exchanged friendly nods with the rest of Nara’s friends, most of whom you’d only ever seen on Nara’s birthdays, and lowered yourself into your chair.

“Happy birthday again,” you said, turning back.

Nara squeezed your shoulder before heading for her own seat at the head of the table.

You set your bag down on the floor beside your chair and let your gaze drift across the restaurant. Two large ceramic vases sat in the centre of the table in front of you, filled with brown branches that twisted upwards towards the chandeliers overhead. Candles flickered between plates, their flames doubling and tripling in the polished cutlery. The entire table seemed to glow.

Yeonjun pulled out the chair opposite yours and sat down. Golden light caught in his dark hair, swept back lightly with gel. Earlier, in the car, he’d worried about not having time to do anything proper with it. You thought his hair looked good exactly as it was, but wisely chose to keep that to yourself.

Beside you, Reina elbowed you lightly in the ribs, then gestured at Yeonjun. There was a question glimmering in her eyes.

You gave the smallest nod.

She grinned. Without a word, she reached for her wine and nudged Soobin’s arm. Understanding immediately, Soobin stood and filled your glass. Beomgyu, apparently, had left him in charge of the drinks on this side of the table.

Shortly after everyone settled into their seats, Nara rose to give a speech. You inhaled automatically, bracing yourself.

Across the table, seated to Yeonjun’s right, Taehyun caught your eye.

“Bet it’ll go over half an hour,” he whispered to you.

You smiled despite yourself.

Nara, bless her, had a tendency to get very emotional on her birthday. A few years back, she’d ended her speech with an improvised Pink Floyd song that no one at the table had heard before. It had gone on for over ten minutes. You’d had the song stuck in your head for days afterwards.

Mercifully, Nara’s speech tonight was only three minutes long: she thanked everyone for coming, thanked everyone for the gifts, thanked everyone for being born at the same point in history as her, then sat back down again.

The applause lasted longer than the speech.

At some point afterwards, perhaps inspired by the dark red arches framing the windows, or the wallpaper borders that looked like they belonged in a circus tent, the conversation turned to clowns.

“D’you know that story about the clown statue?” Beomgyu asked, already on his second glass.

Taehyun and Yeonjun groaned softly beside him in impressive unison.

Beomgyu went on anyway.

“There’s this babysitter watching her neighbours’ kids,” he began, “and she gets creeped out by this clown statue in the living room. So, she calls the parents and asks if she can cover it up with a blanket or something. And the parents—”

“The parents say they haven’t got a statue,” Yeonjun cut in, leaning forward across the table to give him a pointed look. “And the clown turns out to be real and murders the babysitter. Yeah?”

Beomgyu clicked his tongue at him. “Actually, the parents said they have got a clown statue. The babysitter covered it up, and all was well.”

Yeonjun snorted and leaned back to take a sip of the apple juice in his glass. He frowned as he swallowed, smacking his lips. It tasted like expired cider.

“Isn’t the clown statue story just a variation of those ‘the call is coming from inside the house’ stories?” Taehyun asked. “They always end the same way.”

“Mine didn’t,” Beomgyu retorted.

“Then it’s a story about nothing,” Yeonjun said, still gazing absently at the table.

He looked up, suddenly, and your eyes met. You’d been smiling, but looked away the moment you realised he’d noticed.

Yeonjun suddenly felt as if he’d just pulled off five successful somersaults. He lost all track of the conversation around him.

“It’s a story about how we overcome adversity in life,” Beomgyu argued. The only indication he’d been drinking was the rising volume of his voice. “You see a creepy statue, you cover it up.”

“You hear a phone call when you’re home alone,” Taehyun added, “you don’t answer.”

The table laughed.

Kai jumped on your other side, nearly splashing his drink over your dress. You shifted a little to the left.

“Didn’t Soobin live through that?” he asked. “The phone call from inside the house?”

You turned to Reina. The smile on your lips made her snort into her wine.

Soobin, beside her, lowered his glass to the table. Immediately, he looked as though he hadn’t slept in a week.

“I did not live through that,” he said. “If anything, I lived through the opposite of that.”

Reina placed a hand on his knee under the table, encouraging. He shook his head.

This was, clearly, a sensitive subject.

Naturally, the whole table was intrigued.

“Come on,” Nara said, waving her glass in his direction. “S’my birthday. You have to tell us about this.”

“I already got you a very nice gift,” Soobin replied. “Think I’ve done my part.”

It was Reina, technically, who’d helped him collect the set of plates Nara had wanted, but he didn’t think the distinction mattered at this given moment.

“And I appreciate it very much,” Nara said. “Now I want entertainment.”

“It’s not entertaining at all,” Soobin said.

“I feel like it is.”

“It isn’t.”

“I want to hear it, too,” Taehyun interjected. He was leaning over the table, right in front of Soobin, as if he could physically wring the story out of him.

“Me too,” Beomgyu said, then nodded at Kai. “How come you know and we don’t?”

Smiling smugly, Kai leaned back in his chair.

Reina nudged Soobin’s side softly with her elbow. He realised he wouldn’t have her on his side for this—she loved this story too much. She was the one who’d told Kai, wheezing every third word.

Soobin lowered his eyes and sighed.

“Fine.” He drained what was left in his glass. “I’ll tell you. But it isn’t funny or scary.”

A few people across the table clapped energetically. Across from Soobin, Yeonjun was already grinning. He was one of the few people here who was part of the story.

“This was back when you and I lived together,” Soobin began, nodding at him. Yeonjun responded with a deeply encouraging nod. “So, uh—one night, I was sitting in my room, scrolling on my phone. And then I heard this massive bang from across the wall, in Yeonjun’s room. I assumed he’d fallen out of bed, so I went back to my phone.”

Taehyun nearly inhaled his wine, his eyes already bright with amusement.

“Mm. Good to know you’d have my back,” Yeonjun deadpanned, “if I was having a medical emergency.”

“Oh, yeah.” Soobin waved a dismissive hand. Yeonjun snorted. “Of course.”

Something nudged your foot. You glanced down automatically, but it was impossible to find the culprit. There was a forest of legs underneath the tablecloth.

“So, a while later,” Soobin went on. “I heard another bang. I was slightly concerned by that point, so I went to knock on Yeonjun’s door.” He demonstrated by rapping his knuckles against the tabletop. “No response. But there’s usually no response, because he’s got headphones on, or he’s daydreaming, or someth—”

“Hmm.” Taehyun rested his chin on his palm. His lips were dark red from the wine. “About whom, I wonder.”

His gaze drifted, elegantly, towards you.

You met it with a flat look that only made him laugh again.

Yeonjun took another swig from his glass. The juice didn’t taste quite so bad this time.

“Anyway,” Soobin continued, reflexively following Taehyun’s gaze to you. “I, uh—I started walking back to my room, but then I heard another bang.”

“Just pounding away at the walls, were you?” Nara asked Yeonjun.

He laughed, setting his glass down. “Just listen.”

Beomgyu took the quick interlude as an opportunity to refill Soobin’s glass. Years of experience had taught him that words flowed more easily for Soobin after a drink or two. Or five.

“So, um, I text him,” Soobin went on, giving Beomgyu an appreciative nod. “I go, what the fuck is that noise? And he texts back, what? So I go, open your door. And that’s, uh—that’s when Yeonjun says, I’m not home right now.”

Nara’s eyes widened across the table. “What does that mean? What’s making the noise, then?”

“Exactly!” Soobin pointed his glass at her with an immediate sense of vindication. “Spot on reaction.”

“Tell them what you did next,” Yeonjun prompted.

Soobin took a sip of his wine and caught Reina’s eye. She was already smiling, eager. After a moment’s resistance, he gave her a nod.

Reina set both her elbows on the table.

“He called me,” she took over. “Said he was convinced they’d got a poltergeist.”

The entire table exploded. Laughter bounced off the ceiling, forcing several nearby diners to glance over, then quickly turn away again, as though prolonged eye contact with any one of you might prove fatal.

Oddly, that made your shoulders relax against your chair. With everyone so boisterous around the table, you started to feel much more comfortable.

“Oh, you think s’funny, do you?” Soobin fixed everyone with a determined glare. “Try being alone in a massive house at night while something keeps banging on the walls.”

Nara was shaking with giggles so violent that her liquor sloshed over the rim of her glass, staining the white tablecloth.

“Kee—keep going, Rei,” she managed. “Please.”

“Right.” Reina glanced at Soobin and, smiling warmly, hooked her arm through his. “I asked why he thought it was a poltergeist. He gave me the whole recap. And I said maybe he should just go into the room and check. Unfortunately, uh—he said he didn’t want to die, so going inside wasn’t an option.”

By this point, Beomgyu was clutching Taehyun’s arm, trusting it to support him through his wheezing.

Soobin shot them both a withering look.

“That was terrible advice on my part, to be fair,” Reina admitted.

“Thank you,” Soobin said immediately.

“It could’ve been a robbery—”

“Yes, thank you.”

“—and I was just sending you to check.”

Soobin gave another nod. “Thank you.”

She patted his knee, her engagement ring flashing under the candlelight. Soobin caught sight of it and felt himself relax at once.

It had that effect on him, the ring. He could stare at her wearing it for hours.

“You’re welcome,” Reina said. He watched her fingers trace the lines of his trousers. “But, uh, there was someone—” she turned towards you, “—who disagreed with me about it being robbers.”

You scoffed, setting your wine glass down.

Yeonjun felt his smile widen before you even said anything.

“I just thought it was statistically unlikely to be a robber,” you said. “Especially on the second floor. They’ve got cameras everywhere. How could they’ve missed him?”

Reina nodded. “Mhmm.”

“You know what would be easier to miss, though?” you continued. “A poltergeist.”

Nara toppled into Beomgyu in her laughter; he reached out to catch her so quickly that he nearly smacked the back of Taehyun’s head. His glass slipped and the wine poured across the tablecloth, violently red.

Soobin, alive again, raised a hand above Reina’s head for a grateful high-five. You had to lift yourself slightly off the chair to reach it.

“Anyway,” Reina continued, snickering at the chaos, “I FaceTimed him. He’s holding a broom and a bottle of—”

The laughter around the table swallowed the rest of her sentence.

Taehyun, currently in the middle of throwing napkins onto the wine stain, wheezed out, “di-did he have a wand, too?”

“The broom was a weapon,” Soobin said. His ears had gone pink. “Wasn’t going in there unarmed.”

“I think the broom was fair,” Reina replied, patting his knee again. “It’s the bottle of hairspray that I didn’t get.”

“Thought I could use it instead of pepper spray.”

“Oh.” She leaned back to look at him. “That actually makes sense.”

“Thank you.”

You smiled, caught in the whirlpool of laughter. Then someone kicked you under the table again.

Before you could glance down, you noticed Yeonjun shifting in his seat opposite you, suddenly very interested in his glass.

Your eyes narrowed.

“So, right, then,” Soobin said, dragging his chair closer. It made a dreadful noise against the stone floor. “I eased the door of the room open with the broom. It creaked and everything.”

His voice dropped. Everyone at the table instinctively leaned closer; even the candle flames seemed to swell.

Kai was practically draped across his plate by this point, positively giddy. You could feel his leg bouncing against yours under the table.

“There was nothing inside, just darkness,” Soobin said, gesturing with both hands. “I could make out the outline of the bed, the window. Nothing else. Then—bang.”

He smacked his palm on the tabletop.

Nara and Beomgyu both jumped.

“Another fucking sound,” he said. “I nearly—nearly sprayed hairspray into my eyes.”

The roar of laughter that followed was loud enough to make a waiter pause halfway to your table with the first course. The tray wobbled slightly in his otherwise practised hands.

“What was it, then?” Nara asked, leaning back from the table to make room for a plate of carpaccio that the waiter set before her. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

The sight of the beef made you frown.

“It—it was his fucking storage room,” Soobin said, shooting Yeonjun a glare across the table. “He’d built shelves there over the weekend, and they were collapsing one by one. Thank God that door was already open, or I’d have never gone that far into his room to check.”

Nara raised a hand to dab carefully at the corners of her eyes. Her makeup remained immaculate.

“How’d you attach the shelves?” she asked Yeonjun, her voice still light with laughter. “With glue?”

Yeonjun gave a mournful shake of his head. Several of his canvases had perished in that incident; it was a tragedy.

“With screws,” he said. “I just put too much weight on them, I guess.”

Kai speared a slice of beef on his plate and gestured with his fork.

“I would’ve loved it,” he said, “if it’d actually been a poltergeist, though.”

“I’m still half-convinced we really had one,” Soobin replied.

Yeonjun groaned. “My God—”

“No, seriously.” Soobin leaned forward. “Especially upstairs. The toilet doors would swing open on their own, and there’d be these weird shadows and creaking noises at night. I don’t know.”

Across the table, Taehyun had just finished cleaning the spilled wine. Noticing the bottle beside him was nearly empty, he picked it up and took a swig straight from it.

“How come,” he said after swallowing, “you’re the only person who’s ever experienced any of these things in your house?”

Soobin looked affronted by the implication. “It—well, maybe I’m more observant.”

Yeonjun was already shaking his head.

“The house might’ve been weird,” he said, “but s’not poltergeists. They’re apocryphal anyway.”

“They’re—” Soobin frowned. “What?”

“Apocryphal,” Yeonjun said, gesturing around vaguely with his glass. “You know, dubious. Not proven to be real.”

Soobin blinked. “Then—then just say that, what’s with the apogrifuck stuff.”

The table was laughing again before Yeonjun could find a retort. He glanced down at his plate.

You finally tried the arugula on your plate and remembered, with quiet horror, that it was carpaccio that Yeonjun’s parents had served the only time you’d been to their house.

It suddenly tasted like cardboard.

You set your fork down and took a heavy gulp of your wine.

Yeonjun, in front of you, picked at the beef on his plate. He remembered the carpaccio as well, and couldn’t bring himself to take a bite.

He found himself thinking that he might have to try this same dish again soon. Face the real poltergeists.

Eventually, as the waiters brought out the main course—lamb with roasted vegetables and a sauce so tangy and splendid that you’d have fancied a whole bowl of it—the conversations around the table splintered into smaller groups.

At one end, Beomgyu and Taehyun had moved on to horror films. They spent several minutes discussing favourites before dedicating a solid half an hour to The Blair Witch Project. Soobin joined in the moment he overheard and dragged Reina along as well. She was the film expert at the table, having watched a concerning number released before 2000.

Meanwhile, Kai was busy devouring the tomatoes on his plate and telling you about a mug. He said he’d picked it up from the post office earlier today – it had come wrapped in old newspaper and heavily taped. There was no sender’s address, and he was certain he hadn’t ordered anything.

Before you could respond, something shoved your foot under the table again. You looked up.

Across from you, Yeonjun was nodding along to Kai’s story.

“Maybe you’ve got a stalker,” he suggested, swirling the dregs of his apple juice around his glass.

You braced yourself for another kick, but none came. Still, the longer you stared at Yeonjun, the more insistently he didn’t look at you.

“A stalker who sends me mugs?” Kai replied, skeptical.

Yeonjun shrugged. “Maybe it starts with mugs, but will keep getting progressively worse.”

Your lips twitched.

“Pots,” you suggested, “and pans.”

Kai speared another cherry tomato from his plate. “I like that. Cutlery later, yeah?”

“And a blender,” Yeonjun added.

“An air fryer, eventually,” you said.

“By New Year’s,” Yeonjun said, “they’ll have renovated your whole flat.”

Laughing, Kai lifted his wine glass and washed down the tomatoes. You glanced across the table. This time, Yeonjun was waiting to meet your smile.

“It was white,” Kai went on. “The mug. With some black markings inside, at the bottom. Looked painted on, but I didn’t want to touch them.”

You took another sip from your glass. The wine went incredibly well with the lamb. You assumed Beomgyu had made the choice; you had to give him his due.

“Are you sure it wasn’t just some—” Another nudge at your foot cut you off.

Your gaze snapped upwards.

Yeonjun blinked and realised he hadn’t looked away in time.

“Sorry,” he said with a small smile. He’d stopped being sorry the first time he got your attention. “Not much room.”

“Mm.” You held his gaze for a second before turning back to Kai. “Anyway. You sure it wasn’t something you signed up for by accident? One of those subscriptions?”

Kai considered it. “Definitely nothing for mugs.”

“Do you subscribe to anything at all, then?”

“Just the cheese.”

You raised your eyebrows. “What’s that?”

“There’s this collective,” he explained. “They send me a different brand of cheese to try every month. September’s mimolette. I can’t wait.”

You pursed your lips and took another bite from your plate. The lamb nearly melted in your mouth, leaving a leftover taste of chives.

A cheese collective, honestly, sounded very intriguing. You decided to ask for details later.

“Well, could they have sent you a mug?” you asked.

“Don’t think so,” Kai said, leaning back in his seat. He’d left the mug on the windowsill in his kitchen and hoped it’d be gone by the time he returned home.

Across the room, Beomgyu was watching him while grinning into his glass.

Kai caught his look and frowned. “Was it you?”

Hardly managing to swallow before he burst into laughter, Beomgyu turned away to resume whatever conversation he’d been having with Nara and her friends. He hadn’t heard a single word.

Confused, you looked back at Kai.

“He’s been sending me cryptic photos for months,” Kai explained, sitting up straight. He began to gesticulate, so you quietly moved his wine glass out of the potential danger zone. “Wrappers. A leaf, a parking ticket, a random—random fucking shoe. Never explained anything.”

You pressed your tongue against your teeth. “Mhmm.”

“I text him normal things,” he continued, agitated, “like hey, are you free today? And he sends back a photo of a bowl of crisps. I go, what time are we meeting? Photo of a pigeon. Have to actually ring him to properly talk.”

You nodded slowly, determined to keep your lips in a straight line.

“Assuming there’s even a reason,” you said slowly, “why?”

Kai finished the wine in his glass before replying.

“Been doing it since we moved out,” he said with a shrug. “S’pose he likes reminding me he exists.”

“That’s quite sweet, actually,” you said. “Wants you to remember him.”

Kai shook his head. “S’harassment. It’s not sweet.”

“It is, a bit.”

“No.”

“A bit.”

“No.” He pointed at you, then, suddenly, at Yeonjun. “Would you like it if Yeonjun did that to you?”

Across the table, Yeonjun visibly brightened at the sound of his name, like Violet hearing her food bowl rattle.

You didn’t think Yeonjun occupied quite the same category in your life as Beomgyu did in Kai’s, but that was a discussion for another day. You cleared your throat and glanced down at your plate.

“See, um,” you said, “Yeonjun wouldn’t need to do that, because he’s already got a cat who keeps coming to my flat every morning.”

Kai’s eyebrows shot up. He forgot all about his mug.

He’d only met Violet once, before Yeonjun had moved out of his old house. She seemed to like him considerably more than Beomgyu (Kai based this solely on the fact that his shoes hadn’t been peed in, a luxury Beomgyu was not afforded). Kai loved her.

“Does she, then?” he asked, shooting Yeonjun a look.

Yeonjun disliked whatever had appeared behind Kai’s eyes. He crossed his arms and leaned back, balancing on the rear legs of his chair.

“You think I’m sending my cat over there on purpose?” he asked.

“You’re not?” Kai replied.

“Of course m’not,” Yeonjun said. His foot pushed yours under the table again. “The cat’s—”

“Right, then,” you cut in sharply. “Been kicking me the whole night.”

Yeonjun’s arms loosened. “I—have I?”

Kai’s head swivelled between the two of you.

“Do that one more time,” you said. “See what happens.”

Yeonjun’s grin returned instantly.

His foot found yours under the table and nudged it again, softly.

Keeping your gaze locked on his, you kicked his foot away firmly enough to make his chair lurch sideways, three legs in the air. Yeonjun grabbed the edge of the table to steady his balance, sending a tremor through his empty glass.

Half the table looked over.

Mildly embarrassed on his behalf, Kai politely found something else to look at. The white tablecloth by his knees served him quite well.

“You alright?” Taehyun asked, twisting around in his seat.

Yeonjun straightened. He settled the chair back onto all four legs and took a breath.

“Yes,” he said. “Got a bit dizzy.”

Taehyun frowned. “Have you had too much to drink again?”

Yeonjun caught your gaze across the table. There was an infuriatingly pleased glint in his eyes.

“No,” he said. “M’actually sober.”

Taehyun stared at him for another second. Then he glanced at Reina beside you. She’d seen the commotion too and was visibly suppressing a smile.

Clicking his tongue, Taehyun turned back around. He knew what the problem was; Yeonjun was still unwell.

Restless all of a sudden, Yeonjun turned back to you. He drummed his fingers lightly against the stem of his empty glass.

You could see the thought forming behind his eyes and shook your head in a silent warning.

Yeonjun grinned and nudged your foot again.

✦ • ─── SEPTEMBER 4, 2026. 10 PM

As the evening wore on and the main course was cleared away, everyone began to mingle.

By now, you and Yeonjun had kicked each other under the table enough times to obtain matching bruises. You were glad to have a chance to walk around.

A few of your friends wandered off to peer at the desserts that a senior couple were sharing nearby. Someone else stole a chair from beside the kitchen doors and dragged it halfway across the restaurant to your table, producing a noise that made everyone within earshot suffer.

You ended up going to the bar. It occupied a quieter corner of the restaurant and smelled of lemon as you approached. Behind the counter, rows of bottles glimmered under the warm lights.

A bartender stood drying glasses at the far end, looking bored. You slipped onto an empty stool and gave an awkward half-raise of your hand to get his attention. He nodded and made his way over.

While you waited for your drink, you turned slightly in your seat and glanced back towards the dining room. Your friends were easy enough to find – Beomgyu had his hands in the air as he explained something to Kai across the table.

You realised, while watching a waiter duck to avoid being clipped by Beomgyu’s elbow, that your shoulders felt heavier than they had an hour ago. The weight of this week was finally catching up to you.

Suddenly, the stool beside yours shifted. “Fancy running into you here.”

You turned your head. Yeonjun was already grinning.

You looked away, lips pressed together to fight off a smile. “Came to kick me here, too?”

He laughed, resting his forearms against the bar.

“Came for a refill, actually,” he said. “Nothing’s on that table suitable for me.”

You glanced back at the far end of the restaurant again. “Didn’t like the apple juice?”

He clicked his lips. “It wasn’t a good juice. Puts shame on the name of all apples.”

“Mm.” You felt your lips stretch despite your effort and turned your head, nodding towards your friends. “Beomgyu seems to think you’re having some sort of spiritual awakening tonight since you’re not drinking.”

Yeonjun glanced over his shoulder and groaned softly. The moment he’d left his seat at the table, Beomgyu asked him if he was alright five times in a row.

“Yeah, he thinks I’m about to join a priest seminary,” he said.

“Oh.” You turned back to him. “Are you?”

“No. Think I’d be bored.” He gave you a meaningful look, a smirk spreading on his lips. “No one to kick.”

He saw you trying not to laugh and counted the twitches in your lips until you finally gave in. He laughed, too.

Finally, the bartender—Joe, according to the golden nametag on his chest—brought you your Elderflower French 75. You’d never tried the cocktail before, but you didn’t recognise any of the others listed behind the bar. You figured you’d risk it with this one; you knew what a French 75 was, and elderflower sounded nice, too.

Yeonjun ordered a Sprite.

Joe looked up, surprised. He had Yeonjun repeat his order, then smiled in evident appreciation. Joe said he’d made forty-seven cocktails tonight (he shared this information with immense pride and just as much exhaustion) and was happy not to have to make a forty-eighth. You felt a little guilty for contributing to the number.

You watched him talk to Yeonjun and sipped your drink. The lemon hit you first, tart and sharp, but the sweetness settled as soon as you swallowed. The glass smelled faintly like perfume. You weren’t sure if you could taste the elderflower.

Beside you, the pendant lights above the bar caught along the edges of Yeonjun’s face, scattering golden fragments across his cheeks. Pale flowers cascaded from the ceiling, their reflections drifting across the surface of his glass.

It all made him look faintly cinematic.

You decided it was in your best interests to look elsewhere.

Once Joe walked away to make the forty-eighth cocktail for someone else, Yeonjun picked up a napkin and reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. You glanced back just in time to see him pull out a marker and begin scribbling.

A moment later, he slid the napkin across the bar to you.

what’s up? the handwriting said.

You looked up.

Yeonjun nodded towards the napkin and held out the marker. The same brand, you noticed as you took it, that he used to keep in his car.

Feeling incredulous, you wrote back: drinking, you?

He picked up the napkin, read it, then lowered it again.

just hanging out, he wrote back. it’s quite nice here.

Tilting your head, you straightened the napkin and started a new line.

you do realise, you wrote, we could just talk?

He grinned, taking the marker back from you.

sure, he turned the napkin sideways to squeeze in another line, but this is more fun :)

The smile on your face distracted him enough that he dropped the marker while passing it back to you. It bounced off the bar and clattered onto the floor. He slid off his stool to retrieve it.

Your dress, he noted as he handed the marker back to you, looked even better from this angle.

Taking another sip from your glass, you scribbled back: you always carry markers to birthday dinners?

Yeonjun climbed back on his stool and took the napkin back. His cheeks felt very warm.

no, he wrote. Then paused briefly before adding, your dress is very nice btw, i like the colour.

You had to squint; his handwriting had grown steadily smaller as he tried to fit everything into the remaining space. The dress in question felt much warmer against your skin.

thank you, you wrote back on the other side. Then looked up to give him a quick once-over.

He caught it immediately.

“You don’t need to return the compliment,” he said. “I already know I look nice.”

Snorting, you let your gaze wander down his outfit, lingering briefly on his ridiculously red socks. Then you finished writing your response and slid the napkin back to him.

you’ve got sauce on your shirt.

Yeonjun did a double-take at his clothes as he read. There was a small, pale yellow stain on the bottom corner of his white shirt.

He hadn’t even seen it.

He was amazed you had.

you always notice everything about me <3, he wrote on the napkin.

You scoffed, then pointed at the holder and waved your hand. Yeonjun, very enthusiastic, handed you a new napkin.

You tilted your head at the blank space. A new idea occurred.

You traced the edges with the marker, drawing a rough rectangle, and wrote at the top: draw something on here.

Yeonjun raised his eyebrows at the request, then grinned. Taking a sip of his Sprite, he picked up the marker and bent over the napkin, deliberately shielding it from view with his arm.

The restaurant continued to murmur around you as you watched him work, with music playing faintly overhead. You couldn’t recognise the song, but you didn’t particularly care for it anyway.

Yeonjun’s brows were furrowed, his lips slightly parted in concentration. All you could see was the top of his marker moving across the napkin and the occasional twitch of his wrist. Every now and then, he leaned back to inspect his progress, then immediately bent forward again.

The seriousness of it made you chuckle.

Finally, he slid the napkin across the bar.

It was a slightly blurry doodle of a cat with questionable proportions (one ear nearly twice the size of the other) and a dark blot of ink over one eye.

You smiled immediately.

Violet, you wrote in the corner.

Yeonjun nodded once and reached for another napkin in the holder. The marker squeaked softly as he started drawing again. A minute later, he added a note beneath it and pushed it towards you.

This time, it was a drawing of a very cheerful cow, its back decorated with patches shaped like puzzle pieces.

this is what i imagine your violet looks like, he’d written underneath.

Something inside you lit up, sudden and warm. Smiling, you brought your fingers over the edge of the napkin before turning it over.

now draw them together please, you wrote.

Yeonjun let out a long, focused breath through his mouth, rolling both of his shoulders back. He snatched another napkin.

Unfortunately, the marker had begun dying. He gave it a few vigorous shakes, then scribbled hard on the corner of the napkin until he finally coaxed enough ink to continue.

Once he’d finished, he handed you the drawing with a big grin.

It showed a cat sitting primly on a cow’s back, both looking delighted about this arrangement. There were two stick figures standing in the background.

You laughed.

Yeonjun immediately thought he should draw you something else. Maybe two cats on the cow.

“I’m keeping these, by the way,” you said, gathering all three napkins together. “Might as well sign them, too.”

“Oh.” He snorted. “In case you decide to sell them when I’m famous, yeah?”

“And dead,” you said. “Posthumous art is usually worth more.”

“How soon am I going, then?”

You shrugged. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Laughing, he uncapped the marker again and took the napkins back. His signature wandered off course between the different versions, and he added a tiny heart beside each one.

“There.” He slid them back to you. “Autographed. For free.”

You examined the work.

“The heart’s part of your signature?” you asked.

“No.” His grin widened. “That’s only for my biggest fans.”

“Oh, you think of me so highly.”

“Of course. No need to thank me.”

Snorting, you set your handbag on the bartop and carefully tucked the napkins inside. Yeonjun hurriedly swallowed his Sprite before he made a comment about the careful way you smoothed out the creased corners.

A sudden cheer erupted from the far side of the restaurant.

Both of you turned.

“There he is!” Nara shouted, pointing across the room. “Finally!”

Her younger brother stood near the entrance, looking mildly alarmed and profoundly exhausted. A suitcase stood beside him, a jacket slung over one of his arms.

Nara had mentioned he’d be arriving late. Apparently, he’d been somewhere in South America (she’d lost interest after he left Argentina) and his layover in Frankfurt had stretched longer than he’d planned. Judging by the three times he yawned as he crossed the restaurant, he was still operating from a different timezone.

With his arrival, the celebration restarted at full volume.

You turned back towards the bar. A Kehlani song was playing on the speakers now, soft enough to disappear into the conversations around you.

Yeonjun propped his head on his hand, resting against the bartop, and watched you for a moment.

Behind you, a passionate chant of cake! cake! cake! broke out. You recognised your friends just by their terrible rhythm alone.

“Should we head back there?” Yeonjun asked, noticing your slower movements. “Or do you want to go home?”

You glanced over your shoulder. Reina spotted you immediately; she’d been waiting for you to look her way and considered this proof of your paranormal connection. She waved you over.

You smiled and lifted a hand back.

“Kind of,” you told Yeonjun. “But I also want cake.”

He slipped the marker back into his jacket pocket. Knowing you might argue—might start reciting numbers for taxi services in the city, too—he made sure to phrase his next words as if there was no other option.

“Cake,” he said, “and then I’ll take you home.”

You didn’t argue.

Together, you crossed the restaurant towards your table, where Nara was already instructing the waiter in the cake-cutting process.

✦ • ─── SEPTEMBER 5, 2026. 12:30 AM

You should’ve known better than to expect to leave Nara’s birthday early. She flitted from conversation to conversation, effortlessly drawing the whole table into every debate she started, energetic as if she was getting younger by the hour.

Naturally, by the time you stumbled out of the restaurant, everyone was well-muddled and giggling uncontrollably at anything and everything.

You lingered by the fountain, chatting to Reina and Nara while they waited for their respective taxis. A minute later, the two cars rolled up at the end of the street, their headlights flashing in the dark.

“Don’t do anything else that would warrant an intervention,” Reina warned you with a grin, pulling you into a quick hug goodbye.

Near the door, Yeonjun pretended not to understand and then pretended not to smile.

“Why?” Nara asked, having overheard. “What’d she do before?”

“Nothing at all,” you said before Reina could even consider answering. “I’ll see you later, yeah? Send me a picture of how that elephant’s going.”

“Oh, yeah!” Nara burst into a new fit of laughter. “Of course!”

After the girls had gone—Soobin barely managed to shut the door behind himself and Reina before the taxi pulled away—you turned back to Yeonjun. Despite the crowd outside the restaurant thinning, the two of you still had an audience on the way to his car.

“Off on your honeymoon, are you?” Taehyun shouted from the entrance. “Bring souvenirs!”

“And use protection!” Beomgyu added beside him. “I’m not ready to be a grandad!”

Kai, the final member of their party, was wheezing, one hand clamped over his mouth.

Yeonjun glanced at you, weighing whether he ought to shout something back to shut them up. You were already shaking your head.

You were too tired, he figured, to muster proper embarrassment.

Yeonjun decided he liked that.

By the time you climbed into his Mercedes, you weren’t convinced you’d make it home conscious. The last few drinks had left you feeling deeply sleepy.

You rested your temple against the cool glass of the window. It vibrated faintly with the engine as the car rolled down the street.

Beside you, Yeonjun drove with one hand loose on the steering wheel and the other resting on the centre console. He felt every centimetre separating your hands as you kept yours curled against the edge of your seat.

He didn’t want to go home.

“Do you want ice cream?” he asked.

You dragged your attention away from the window. “Hm?”

“Ice cream.” He nodded ahead. “From the corner shop.”

You followed his gaze. The small shop near your block glowed against the otherwise dark street. You hadn’t noticed how quiet the night had become; the windows of the surrounding buildings were pitch black.

You quite liked it. Quite liked being here, too.

“Alright,” you said.

Keeping his smile conservative, Yeonjun turned into the nearly empty parking lot. Only two other cars stood beneath the streetlights.

The automatic doors pulled open, and you stepped into the warmth of the shop. It smelled strongly of coffee. Yeonjun claimed to know exactly where the freezers were.

Ten minutes later, the two of you were still wandering the aisles.

“Swear they used to be by the milk,” he mumbled, head turned to scan the aisles on the left.

“Have you even been here before?” you asked, raising a hand to cover a yawn. You were now completing your second lap of the shop.

“Of course,” he said. “Once or twice.”

You sighed, trailing your fingers lightly across a row of perfectly aligned boxes of cereal.

“Should we just ask someone?” You pointed towards an employee stacking deliveries near the counter.

Yeonjun looked offended.

“Absolutely not,” he said. “That’s admitting defeat.”

“Well, we’re hardly winning right now, so—”

“Give me a second, there’s a bunch of new—oh!” His eyes lit up. “There. By the eggs.”

You turned to look. Pushed against the shelves of eggs stood two freezers with colourful wrappers behind the doors.

“See?” Yeonjun said, absurdly pleased with himself. “Told you I’d find it.”

“Very impressive,” you mumbled. “The shop’s a whole ten metres wide.”

Ignoring that, he guided you towards the freezers.

The ice cream selection proved underwhelming. Still, the two of you stood in front of the four different brands for another ten minutes, shoulder-to-shoulder by the glass doors. There was an alarming amount of pistachio flavour; one brand alone offered five different versions.

“Right, then.” Yeonjun folded his arms. “We’ve looked at every single one now.”

“Twice, I think,” you said.

“Twice,” he agreed. “Seen anything you like?”

You scanned the shelves another time. The greens and yellows of the wrappers were starting to blur together.

Honestly, if you’d been here alone, you’d have picked the first one you saw and left.

“I don’t really care,” you said. “S’long as it’s on a stick.”

“Not feeling up for a waffle cone?”

“Not today.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Yeonjun bent at the waist to inspect the lower shelves. His reflection washed over the freezer glass.

“I want something sour,” he decided.

You pointed towards a blue wrapper. “Lemon?”

He looked up, nose scrunched. “Maybe a bit sweeter.”

You shifted to the ice cream next to it. “Pear?”

“Pear,” he repeated, contemplating. “Okay, yeah. Pear sounds nice.”

You opened the freezer door, cold air immediately spilling over your hands. The wrappers crackled softly as you reached inside and pulled out two.

On your way to the tills, you passed the drinks aisle. Yeonjun had taken the ice cream from you and was inspecting the wrappers when you caught his sleeve and tugged lightly. He looked up.

You nodded towards one of the shelves. A dark amber bottle sat between rows of cider, its red label catching the lights overhead.

Yeonjun squinted.

“Oh.” He pointed, raising his eyebrows. “That’s mead.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Want to grab it for your birthday?”

Yeonjun watched the bottle for another second.

He realised he’d completely forgotten about the mead and Beomgyu’s list of spirits tonight.

It struck him as odd.

Then it struck him that if you’d pointed at the shrubbery outside and asked him to grab some of that, too, he’d already have bags full of leaves and branches.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, reaching for the bottle. The glass felt cool against his palm. “Can’t just leave it here, s’clearly been waiting for me.”

“Mhmm,” you said, “and there you were, circling the shop five times.”

“That was only twice.”

“Could’ve asked for help and it would’ve been zero.”

Yeonjun stopped walking suddenly. You took another step before you noticed and turned around.

He stood in the middle of the aisle, gripping the ice cream by the edges of the wrappers and watching you with a faintly worried expression.

“Are you not having a good time with me?” he asked.

Your eyebrows lifted. “What—walking circles around the shop?”

“Walking circles around the shop with me.”

You studied the straight line of his lips for a moment, and the small, hopeful glint in his eyes. Then you smiled despite yourself.

Truly nothing at all has changed since you’d last been out with him.

“No, I am,” you said. “Having the time of my life.”

He dropped his shoulders dramatically.

“Good,” he said, turning back towards the tills. “S’what I like to hear. Come on, love.”

You followed him.

After a scuffle over who would pay—you nearly swiped your card when Yeonjun knocked the scanner sideways and paid in cash while you were yelling at him to be careful—the two of you found yourselves sitting on the pavement behind the shop.

The parking lot stretched out before you, completely vacant now except for his Mercedes. Beyond it, the surrounding trees swayed gently in the rising wind.

The night had cooled, but the breeze felt refreshing against your skin as you raced to eat your ice cream before it melted. The flavour was sharper than you’d anticipated—sweet pear followed by a clean tart finish that lingered on your tongue.

Beside you, Yeonjun watched the bottle of mead sitting by your handbag and tapped his fingers against his knees. The ice cream in his hand was beginning to trickle down the stick.

He’d been waiting for this: some time with you outside your building, somewhere planned and a little inconvenient. So you wouldn’t just be neighbours running into each other in the lobby anymore.

Now, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever want to go home.

“Tell you what,” he said, swallowing a mouthful of ice cream, “s’only about a mile home. What if we actually try the mead now and walk the rest of the way back?”

You glanced towards the street leading to your block, then turned back to him.

“What about your car?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I’ll come back for it tomorrow morning.”

You looked down at the bottle.

It wasn’t anything special. You’d had mead before. And, realistically, another drink might just put you straight to sleep.

If you didn’t agree to the drink, however, you’d have to call it a night soon.

“Sure,” you said.

Yeonjun immediately shoved the ice cream into his mouth, far too much at once. His eyes widened.

You raised your eyebrows. He held up a single finger, then squeezed his eyes shut. The inside of his skull seemed to freeze solid.

Several painful seconds later, with his temples throbbing, he finally swallowed.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, picking up the bottle.

“Bit eager, yeah?”

Snorting, he gripped the bottle harder, twisting until the cap gave way with a metallic crack.

“There we—oh.” He looked up. “We’ve got no glasses.”

A gust of wind caught a few strands of your hair and blew them across your face. You lifted a hand to brush them away.

“We’re drinking mead in a parking lot,” you said. “We’ll survive without glasses.”

He handed you the bottle.

You balanced your ice cream in one hand and took the bottle in the other. The label looked surprisingly extravagant up close, decorated with ornate golden lettering.

You took a slow sip. It tasted incredibly sweet at first, heavy and almost syrupy.

You tried another sip, slower this time. The flavour softened as it lingered, unfolding into something warm. Faintly floral.

It wasn’t as good as your grandmother’s, but for mead from a corner shop, it was perfectly respectable.

You handed the bottle back to Yeonjun and clicked your lips thoughtfully.

“And?” he asked.

“Alright,” you said, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “You’ll like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm. Very sweet.”

Yeonjun lifted the bottle to his lips. He could taste your ice cream on the rim, and his eyes squeezed shut. He tipped his head back farther.

Under the streetlights, the mead looked slightly darker than it had in the shop. You watched him take a swig, hold it in his mouth for a second, then swallow. His throat moved.

His eyebrows rose just as you looked away.

“Oh, s’nice,” he said, glancing at the bottle as though he’d forgotten what it was.

“Yeah?”

He nodded and took another bite of his ice cream to balance the flavour. A pale drop had already splashed on the asphalt beside his shoe.

“Reminds me of something,” he said, “but I can’t think of what.”

“Honey?” you offered, licking your own ice cream.

“Mhmm—yes, dear?”

You snorted. “Fuck off.”

He laughed, catching a drip before it reached his hand, and slurping the melted base. The pear lingered against his throat.

“You’ve got a bit…” you said, nodding towards his face.

“Oh.” He swept his tongue across his upper lip, hand lifting instinctively. “Did I get it?”

You leaned closer, squinting, and caught a faint whiff of his cologne. It felt stronger in the night air, with the mead still warm inside you.

“No,” you said. “Still some.”

He tried wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

You pointed higher.

He frowned. “Where the f—”

Tsking, you reached forward and brushed your thumb over the corner of his mouth.

Yeonjun felt something spark beneath his ribs. It spread through him with embarrassing speed.

This was fine.

You’d touched his face before.

This was alright.

This was—

“Watch it before it melts.”

He blinked down. The ice cream was now oozing over his fingers.

“Oh—shit.” He hurriedly brought it back to his mouth. “F-fank—thanks.”

You leaned back again. As your hand settled on the pavement, your fingers brushed his. Warmth lingered against his skin.

Yeonjun didn’t dare move.

God, he did not know how to be friends.

Who the fuck had invented friendships, anyway? Was there a rulebook, or perhaps some sort of guidelines that he’d missed? He felt like he was doing everything wrong.

He finished the ice cream and accidentally bit into the wooden stick, wincing as his teeth protested. He tossed the stick next to yours, beside the bottle, and wiped his hands on his trousers. They remained stubbornly sticky.

“M’thinking,” he said eventually, looking up at the sky. Only a handful of stars were visible; the blanket of clouds was growing thicker.

You turned towards him. “Yeah?”

“Why d’you think we weren’t friends back then?” he asked, turning slightly to meet your gaze. “At uni.”

You turned back ahead, lips parting. You hadn’t expected this to be what he was thinking about.

“Well,” you said after a moment, resting a hand on your knee, “you were stealing all my answers in class, for one.”

He smiled faintly. “Mhmm.”

“And you were always sneering.”

“Well, that could’ve been friendly.”

You gave him a look. “How is sneering friendly?”

His grin widened. “How’s it not? Bit of a friendly banter.”

Clicking your tongue, you stretched your legs out in front of you. The hem of your dress flowed softly in the wind.

“You were also patronising and derisive,” you said. “And horribly smug.”

His smile softened a touch. “Right.”

The breeze lifted the bottom of your dress over your ankles. You leaned forward to smooth it back down. The wind felt colder against your skin now, perhaps from the ice cream.

“Don’t mean to say that I was perfect, of course,” you added.

Yeonjun was still watching your ankles. “No?”

“Of course not,” you said. “You said it, too. Called me controlling. And a sycophant, I think.”

“Hmm. Good word, that.”

Your mouth twitched slightly as he licked his lips, momentarily self-conscious. He didn’t soften the adjectives, though. Didn’t try to reframe them.

You appreciated that.

You’d said a lot to each other back in the day, and being friends didn’t mean you had to rewrite it all.

“Yeah,” you said. “Think we were trying to one-up each other too much back then.”

“Think we’ve stopped now?”

You glanced up. “Suppose we’ll see, won’t we?”

“Hmm.” He nodded, dropping his gaze. “S’pose we will.”

The trees swooshed softly around you. For a while, the two of you listened to the wind rustling the leaves. The pines up ahead smelled heavenly.

Across the street, a dark silhouette was walking a tiny dog. You caught a glimpse of it under the glow of the streetlight and found yourself smiling.

It was a brown dachshund—Alfred, perhaps, you thought wistfully—with a bright green vest. You didn’t know they made vests in this size. The dog’s legs moved so quickly against the pavement that they looked mechanical, like a little wind-up toy.

Yeonjun was watching it, too.

“Looks a bit like a nutria,” he observed.

You turned to him slowly. “Hm?”

“A nutria.” He nodded towards the dog. “S’a rodent. Bit like a beaver.”

You stared at him. “Where’d you get that from?”

The dog had discovered a patch of grass and was now running in excited circles around its owner. Yeonjun smiled softly.

“I think I’ve seen one once,” he said, tapping his fingers against the pavement. “There was this river not far from my parents’ house when I was growing up. Loads of silt, cattails everywhere. Completely overgrown. My parents loathed the place; told me to steer clear. Initially, I thought they were worried I’d fall in. But really, they were just worried I’d come home and get mud everywhere.”

You dropped your gaze to the asphalt underneath you. It still had an effect on you, any mention of his parents, even if the conversation on your balcony felt more distant now.

“I went there anyway,” he continued. “Saw all these little caves dug into the riverbank. And one day, I saw this—uh, creature eating the cattails. A nutria, I assumed.”

“That sounds cute.”

“Yeah.” He let the breeze stir the trees for a moment. Then he picked up the bottle of mead and turned it slowly by the neck. “‘Course, I was a kid, so I didn’t know better. Might’ve been an oversized muskrat.”

A smile made its way to your lips. Across the street, the dog and its owner took a turn past the trees and disappeared from your view.

“Might’ve been,” you said. You had never seen a muskrat.

Yeonjun nudged the bottle towards you. You picked it up and took another slow sip. The flavour surprised you once again, sweeter every time you tried it.

A drop caught on your lower lip.

Yeonjun watched you swipe your tongue across it and, as a result, lost control of his mouth.

“Muskrats are usually much smaller than nutrias,” he said. “But both have vibrissae, which was my main method of identifying rodents at that point.”

Snorting, you lowered the bottle.

“You’re killing me,” you said. “What’s vibrissae?”

“Whiskers.”

“Right.” You handed the bottle to him, grinning now. “So, you never found out which it was?”

Yeonjun took a generous swig. Without the pear ice cream to dilute the taste, the mead was outrageously sweet.

“Mm—no.” He lowered the bottle. “Could’ve been either. They can cohabitate. Though, of course, nutrias are more aggressive.”

You gave a solemn nod. “Of course.”

Yeonjun watched the smile spread on your face for a second before lowering his head, suddenly sheepish.

Perhaps in the week he’d spent sober, he’d forgotten how to drink. Now he was sitting in some parking lot, alone with you for the first time in a long time, and all he was doing was talking to you about fucking nutrias.

Perhaps this was what friends did.

“Sorry,” he murmured anyway. “Didn’t mean to go off there.”

“No, it’s nice,” you said. “I like hearing about them. Did you go to that river often, then?”

He rolled the neck of the bottle gently between his palms. The glass was warm now.

“Sometimes,” he said. “Had nothing better to do. Didn’t dare to get too close, of course, but I did name the one I saw.”

“What was it?”

“Isolde.”

Your cheeks were starting to ache. “From Tristan and Isolde?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’d just seen the film with Sophia Myles and—”

“How old were you?”

“Maybe ten.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. Yeonjun laughed, too.

“I was really not supervised very much,” he explained.

“No,” you agreed. “Clearly.”

“Yeah, so anyway.” He took another swig from the bottle. “I’d just watched the film and thought it was brilliant. So the nutria was Isolde. My neighbour’s poodle was Melot, by the way. So it all made sense.”

Your eyes softened in the dim of the streetlights.

You accepted the bottle from him and held it, thoughtfully, on your lap for a moment. Neither of you spoke.

“My grandparents live near woodland,” you said then. “We’ve got martens there. They come down to steal blueberries and murder squirrels.”

He turned his head. “Aren’t martens small?”

“Sort of, I guess,” you said, “but they’re proper quick. Adorable, too, though. They used to remind me of little bears when I was younger, maybe because of their paws. Very bear-like.”

Yeonjun laughed, and you took a sip of the mead before the warmth in your chest could spread any further.

“They’re not rodents,” you added, “but it’s the closest thing I’ve got with vibrissae. Well, I assume they’ve got it anyway.”

You glanced at him with a small frown.

He nodded, grinning. “Yeah, I reckon they do.”

“We’ve had otters near the farm, too,” you said. “Oh, and ermines! Those are tiny.” You pinched your fingers together. “Like this.”

Yeonjun watched the light dancing in your eyes and remembered his kitchen—the first time you’d told him about your animals. He’d been mesmerised, then. He still was now.

“Your grandparents’ farm sounds lovely,” he said.

“Yeah.”

You looked across the empty parking lot. The glow from the streetlights reflected faintly off the asphalt; it seemed to glitter under the lights.

You traced his shadow with your gaze.

You thought you could easily imagine Yeonjun at your farm, leaning against the fence and watching the sheep, probably after you’d told him not to lean against it. Laughing when one of the goats—probably Gertrude, she was always up to no good—stuck her nose into his jacket pocket.

It startled you how quickly the picture arrived, how calm it felt.

The wind picked up, distracting you from your thoughts. It slipped beneath the thin straps of your dress. You rubbed your arm instinctively.

“Getting cold,” you murmured, turning your head away to hide a yawn.

Yeonjun looked up as though he could physically see the wind and ask it to fuck off.

“We can go,” he said, though he didn’t sound sure.

You realised you didn’t want to go.

It was lovely here. Not much to look at, really—even ugly when you thought about it. But lovely, nonetheless.

You wouldn’t have minded taking a quick nap on the pavement, too.

“Yeah,” you said at last, exhaling quietly. “Maybe we should.”

Yeonjun stood first. He brushed dust from the back of his trousers and held out a hand.

Your vision was swimming lightly around the edges. You took his hand; his fingers were still slightly sticky as they closed around yours. He pulled you to your feet.

The parking lot rotated momentarily. You gripped his hand tighter.

“Thanks,” you said.

“Any time.”

Your hand briefly stuck to his as you tried to let go.

After tossing out the rubbish in the nearby bin, the two of you made your way home. The streetlights cast dim pools of golden light across the pavement, broken only by your shadows stretching and shrinking as you walked under them.

This part of the city seemed asleep. Even the traffic lights had given up and blinked a restless yellow.

“You sure you won’t mind coming back for your car tomorrow?” you asked.

“No, it’s not too far,” Yeonjun said, glancing back towards the shop. The bottle in his hands reflected the lights around you. “And I could use the walk.”

You nodded.

The alcohol and the late hour had left a pleasant warmth beneath your skin, but the wind still found its way in. It settled across your shoulders like icy fingers, and you shuddered reflexively, as though trying to shake it off.

“Cold?” Yeonjun asked.

“I’ll be alright.”

Humming, he shrugged off his jacket, sleeves catching briefly on the bottle of mead, and held it out. You looked down at it, then at the thin white shirt he was wearing.

“You’ll be cold, then,” you said.

“I’m very warm,” he replied.

You glanced down at his jacket again.

This wasn’t the first time he was offering it to you. It reminded you, helplessly, of the scarf you’d kept in your box. You probably should’ve given it back to him.

Quietly, you accepted the jacket and draped it around your shoulders, gathering the collar beneath your chin.

It felt warmer than it had last weekend.

“I’ve, uh…” Yeonjun rubbed the back of his neck. The wind pushed his hair across his forehead. “I’ve actually got some other plans tomorrow, too.”

You glanced at him. “Yeah?”

“Mm.” His gaze dropped to the pavement. “Been thinking about those nutrias.”

“Isolde?”

“Yeah.” His lips barely twitched. “Going to find her.”

Your gaze dropped to your shoes. “Oh.”

The pine scent from the trees around you seemed to settle inside him. It reminded him of something nice; he felt his chest expand, but couldn’t quite feel the warmth.

“Yeah,” he said, turning the bottle slowly in his hand. The label was already peeling at one corner. “Don’t know how that’ll go. Thinking I’ll just ring my mum tomorrow and see where that takes me. I haven’t spoken to her in—in a long time.”

There was a sudden tightness in his shoulders. You recognised it straight away.

He wasn’t going home for the nutrias.

“What brought this on?” you asked.

Yeonjun didn’t know how to answer. He turned the bottle around another time.

“Well, uh—you,” he said. You looked up. “Our conversation on your balcony. And—I don’t know. Been thinking about that river just now. Haven’t thought about it in years.”

You glanced back ahead, tightening your grip on the collar of his jacket. It smelled like his cologne.

At some point, you seemed to have accidentally trained yourself into smelling bergamot on something and immediately assuming it belonged to him.

“You sure?” you asked after a moment. “Said you’d cut your parents off.”

A car passed you on the street, its headlights so bright that you had to squint. For a second, your shadows vanished altogether. Then the car was gone, and they returned.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “But I need to see where we stand. You, uh—you were right about that. And there are things I want to say to them anyway. Been building up. You know.”

“Yeah.” Your bag bumped against your hip with every step. “Well, um—I hope they listen.”

Yeonjun glanced at you. “Yeah.”

“Good luck.”

The smile on your lips was small and uncertain. You weren’t convinced luck would help, but you couldn’t offer him much of anything else.

“Thanks,” he said, lifting the bottle slightly. “Might need a fair bit more of this to recover.”

Your laughter was soft, but felt louder in the stillness of the night.

“I’ll have it ready for you,” you said.

The warmth inside him finally blocked out the biting wind.

This, he knew, would help him better than luck.

“Thank you,” he said.

Your building stood just ahead, the entrance lit by the glow of the same streetlight Yeonjun had leaned against last week. The same one under which he’d given you his jacket the first time.

The memory sat heavily in your mind, but felt a lot lighter on your chest.

“You’re welcome,” you said. “S’what friends are for, yeah?”

Yeonjun lowered his gaze. Under the streetlights, your shadows slid together across the pavement until they became one dark shape.

“Mhmm.” He stretched his arms above his head. His joints clicked softly. “What else are friends for?”

You gave him a look. “What do you want them to be for?”

He smiled and didn’t answer.

You wondered what he was thinking about. Then wondered if you really wanted to know.

Just outside the building, Yeonjun pushed the heavy doors open and gestured for you to go in first. His eyes were weary at the corners.

The air in the lobby was stale and smelled faintly of onions; someone in the building had evidently been cooking. Your eyes watered as soon as the door shut.

Behind you, Yeonjun exhaled heavily. “This fucking smell.”

“Yeah. Horrid.”

The letterboxes seemed more crooked than usual today, with several new black-and-white stickers decorating one edge. Yeonjun drifted towards them automatically and placed the bottle of mead on the floor.

You turned around. “We’re staying here, then?”

He smiled reflexively.

We again.

“For a second,” he said, resting his back against the wall. He was more tired than he’d initially realised.

“Oh, you like the smell?”

He grinned. “I like your dress.”

You stopped in the middle of the lobby. Yeonjun leaned his head back. You found you couldn’t really look at him for longer than a second at a time.

“You mentioned that,” you said.

“Did I?”

“Mhmm.”

His fingers ran idly over the edge of the letterboxes.

“Well,” he said, “I think s’really nice.”

Your lips stretched. “I can lend it to you sometime.”

He snorted. “Doubt I’d look any good in it.”

You glanced down at the satin peeking out from under the jacket. The gold appeared darker in the dim light of the lobby.

“Why?” you said, looking back up. “Think gold suits your skin tone.”

Yeonjun didn’t know what to make of that. Didn’t know what to make of the sudden vibrations under his skin, either.

“Does it?” he asked, nodding towards himself. “Come closer, then. Let me see.”

Scoffing, you took a step forward. “Sounded a bit like the Big Bad Wolf there, but alri—”

Laughing, Yeonjun pushed off the wall and wrapped himself around you, his arms circling your waist, face buried in the crook of your neck. It was quick and easy, almost like a habit. It made your heart startle.

“Oh,” you murmured, your breath leaving your lungs in a quiet laugh. “Getting the dress measurements, yeah?”

“Mhmm.” The sound travelled down your spine. You tried very hard not to think about it. “Seeing if it’ll fit me.”

His jacket slipped from your shoulders and landed softly on the floor behind you.

Neither of you moved to pick it up.

“And?” you asked quietly. “Will it?”

His arms tightened around you.

“Just a bit more,” he said. His chest rose and fell steadily against yours. “Still calculating.”

Your fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt, only slightly.

You did not know what you were doing.

You decided you were too tired to worry about it.

“Taking a while,” you whispered, making no move to pull away.

His head shifted against your shoulder in a tiny nod. “Never been good at maths.”

“Mhmm.”

The two of you stood there for another minute while the wind murmured beyond the lobby doors, almost comforting now. You could barely remember the chill of the night. Could barely smell the dreadful onions.

Finally, Yeonjun lifted his head. You felt his absence immediately, cold against your neck.

You looked up as he took a step back. His eyes were dark in the dimness, but open in a way that made your breath catch.

You looked down.

“Let’s go, then,” you said, gesturing towards the stairs.

Nodding, he bent to retrieve the bottle. It felt heavier than it had at the shop, despite being half-empty.

Your shoe nudged his jacket. You picked it up.

“Shit.” The entire back was dusted white. “It’s got dust on it, I’m—”

Yeonjun let out another slow breath. He took the jacket from your hands before you could brush the dust off, warm fingers grazing yours.

“S’fine, love,” he said, tossing it over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

You looked at him. He was watching you with something absurdly warm and peaceful in his eyes.

You moved for the stairs.

The scent of onions blissfully faded the higher you climbed, replaced instead by a familiar, suffocating warmth. You wondered if it would be this hot here in the winter. Wondered about the dark windows of the stairwell, too. Wondered about everything you could, so you wouldn’t wonder about Yeonjun, climbing the stairs right behind you.

You stopped again outside his door on the fifth floor. The corridor lights buzzed overhead.

“Tell Violet I said hi,” you said.

The corners of his lips lifted. Violet was probably asleep inside. He could picture her curled up on his bed, the edge of her tail twitching every now and then.

“I will.” He pulled his keys from his back pocket. “She’ll be back at yours tomorrow morning, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, probably.”

He smiled.

You smiled back.

The night lingered between you for a moment more.

Then you turned and climbed the rest of the stairs home.

Later, when you slipped out of your dress, your skin smelled faintly of bergamot.

prev ○ next (coming soon)

taglist:

@eleni-cherie @enhastolemyheart @beestvng @tomorrowbytgt @insaniteez @sorikkunhwangpil @yaintpaint @ohsowoozi @di3t-w0ter @virgopotterhead @beomgyusluver @pagesoobinie @champagne1221 @jammerhammerbanger @reiofsuns2001 @belabobanana @hheerrmmiitt @myglogic @mountyuki @adoresjjk @hueningsgirl @gunsfave @nanilis @yjcam @human-misery @angelgraphica @sooberriesx @yystarz @4wkjun @xjunniee @littlemoasoobin @kkyubear @proudsolarpunk @hyukalife @grogwrites @tarahardcore @jaegerbombin @i4tzy @llvcyj @kookieterry @b9oms @starstrucktae @apriglw @mo0nstardust @koobiiiistar @unfiirt @yawnjjunnie @usuallyunlikelyfox @isakwon

thank you for reading!!♡♡

[thugyisback-deactivated20251224]

[cheshire-cat-lenalee2]

[saccharinezennie]

alpha!beomgyu & his mate

warnings: suggestive? gyu has a reputation, faint mate rejection, falling in love at first sight

wc: 786!

scz note: inspired by a little idea i had for alpha!beomgyu and a request i received earlier!

(you may or may not have to read my a/b/o!txt hcs & alpha!kai + breeding kink for some character context first) (apologies) (anyways, enjoy!)

you've heard about alphas like him

him specifically, might you add

his reputation among your friends and peers on campus preceded him, not in the best way – him and his bosom friend alike

you knew to avoid his kind like the plague, having successfully kept yourself abstinent after your first heat presenting as an omega. it were alphas like him that drove you to this level of self-restraint and the mission to at least keep some of your dignity, as far as your instincts and urges would let you in this life

you've never actually encountered the alpha, not until now – when stupid, silly hueningkai felt the need to invite those two mansluts over to your table

you want to bash him in the head. he's so lucky his mate is here, you think

the two were rather quick in making their way over to where your little trio was seated. apparently they were all "friends". this was the first time you heard about this ridiculousness. how could kai even be friends with these alphas, let alone stand to be in their presence?

he was a one-omega-and-one-omega-only type of alpha, evidently clear as you watch him – your childhood best friend, peppering chaste little kisses all over the face of your, well, other childhood best friend – their giggles and giddiness coming to an abrupt end at the sharp gasp escaping your lips

there's no way, absolutely no fucking way

you feel it before you see him: the tingle down your spine, your chest growing unbearably hot, goosebumps erupting over your skin. oh no. you know these symptoms all too well. you'd seen it happen with the two sitting in front of you, yet you still sit and hope and pray that it's not the case for you right now

your pulse is spiking, your nose picking up and greedily inhaling wafts upon wafts of the scent that is now wrapping around you, engulfing you, urging you to surrender

and that voice – a delectable, sultry, deep timber that almost makes your toes curl and has you weak in the knees, even though you're sitting down – a greeting and then a halt when he reaches your table, "what's up, guys? thanks kai for inviting us to your–"

his eyes land on yours and the world comes to a standstil

"...table."

beomgyu. choi beomgyu is standing, no – towering over you, looking like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over him, his long black hair doing very little to hide his eyes that are as big as saucers right now, adams apple bobbing as he tries to get a hold of himself

your omega reacts before you can, rejoicing and clamoring inside of you at the sight of him, chanting the one thing you wish she wasn't chanting right now

"mate,

holy fuck, that's my mate"

– is all beomgyu hears ringing in his head as his alpha goes rampant inside of him, sweat gathering on his temples, breath completely stolen from his lungs, eager to finally unite with his chosen omega

everything shifts for beomgyu

suddenly, he's not just standing in front of another omega that he can persuade with pretty, glazed words and advantageous gestures wrapped in silk. this isn't an omega that he can just drag back to his bed and have his way with until the morning hours, only to forget her name when they woke up next to each other at noon, no. beomgyu's looking right at the reason for his existence, the core of his being, his constant, his omega

he would've never guessed that he'd find you so soon. hell, he didn't even think you existed, not until now

your two best friends and the alpha accompanying him immediately pick up on what's taking place between the two of you, mouths agape looking onto the scene unfolding in front of them

"well, shit." you all hear yeonjun say under his breath and you watch as beomgyu blinks out of his daze and reaches a tentative hand towards you

you panic, turning your body away from him, your omega wailing at the rejection of the first touch of her alpha, every nerve in your body fighting with you to just take his hand and fall into his arms and– and–

no. you have to get out of here

you stand up abruptly, "i– i have to go. i'm sorry." you excuse yourself shakily as you scurry to and out of the entrance of the cafeteria

yeonjun claps the alpha that now stands frozen in place, heart stinging like never before on the back, "you're so fucking screwed, dude", he laughs as they watch you hurry away

scz note: our poor beomie

(evil laugh bcs can this be considered a cliffhanger?) (i'm so excited for this)

(part 2), masterlist

[saccharinezennie]

alpha!beomgyu & his mate, (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 ➛ final!)

warnings: SMUT! p in v, unprotected sex (don't!), ALL things a/b/o, dom & sub dynamics, heat sex, oral (f & m rec), gyu's a munch, masturbation (m)(kind of), fingering, teasing (lots of it), begging (reader says please A LOT), edging, praise, slick slurping, cum eating, strength kink, spanking, ruined orgasm, big dick beomgyu agenda, multiple positions: missionary, prone bone (kind of, it'll make sense), doggystyle, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, knotting, marking, claiming, basically porn with fluff sprinkled on top, gyu being a heartthrob, gyu duality king

whew, that was a mouthful :‐|

wc: 7.6k

scz note: this is how i imagined gyu for this final part! this will be the last part of this series! may or may not contain some errors. i hope you all enjoy it! x

"so... who was the alpha you spent your first heat with?"

you're barely able to form a thought as you lay on your back in your bed, panties long gone and thighs being spread by beomgyu's persistent hands, mouth hot on your neck

he had been all over you since the minute the two of you woke up. you had pushed him off and forced him to go with you into the bathroom and freshen up first – to which he hastily obliged, immediately pushing you back onto your mattress

it was the last of your pre-heat today, your heat would be arriving tomorrow. your scent was becoming stronger, putting beomgyu in a frenzy

frenzy was a light way to put it, especially with the way he kissed down your body, now mouthing and biting at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, growing hungrier the closer he gets to your core

you whimper as his fingers start toying with your clit, temporarily distracting you from his question – which you've been avoiding since last night

"i– shit, beomgyu– wait–" you protest, already grabbing a handfuls of the sheets, back arching

his eyes darken the longer he stares between your thighs, the object of his fixation dripping with slick, just begging to be devoured

his lips hover right above your core, "fuck, i've been dying to taste you properly baby", he rasps before he licks a fat stripe up your slit, removing his fingers to swirl his tongue around your clit, sucking the little bundle of nerves into his mouth

you moan breathlessly, head falling back onto your pillow as beomgyu hungrily starts making out with your pussy, guttural moans vibrating against you as he loses himself in your decadent sweetness

he pulls off, only to profess, "best pussy i've ever tasted," before he dives back in

you would have giggled at his words – if his assault wasn't rendering you totally brainless

wanton moans escape you as your mouth hangs agape, already feeling fucked out the more his tongue relentlessly works you, determined to figure out what you like

he fucks his tongue into you, slurping some of your essence that's leaking down to your ass – you gasp at the intrusion to your entrance

'kay, she likes when i do that, he notes, dragging his ravenous muscle back up to your clit, his jaw flexing as he flattens his tongue and rolls it against you again and again

"oh my god, beomgyu!–"

knew she'd like that too, he preens, smug as you cry out, a hand settling in his hair

fuck, he's already working you towards an orgasm

he pulls away again, making you whine and he snickers wickedly as you try to push his head back onto you, but to no avail

"still haven't answered my question, baby"

you huff, already missing having his mouth on you, frustratedly bucking your hips toward him before he holds them down, an arm flexing over your abdomen

"beomgyu...please...", you try, looking down at him to plead with your eyes, to which he only shakes his head

"c'mooon, is it someone i know? i told you who popped my cherry last night" he bargains, a finger teasing your slit again, before he places a fat kiss on your clit, making you jolt

you fuss, recalling the conversation you had whilst beomgyu was cuddling you after your...activities last night –

— him, having lost his virginity to an omega long ago and having fallen deeply in love with her, only for her to have left him the second she met her mate, soobin

the information had shocked you, because you knew soobin. heck, you guys have been at the same institutions since middle school – with kai and your best friend – you even remember her having a crush on him too

he didn't hate soobin, he knew he had no right to

but beomgyu had been crushed, knowing that no amount of whatever they had could outweigh the gravity of a mate bond – it still hurt that she didn't care whether or not he was watching whilst she doted on soobin, as if beomgyu never meant anything to her – which was exactly the reason he set out to become an "omega slayer" as kai liked to call him

he wanted to forget her, badly — and had tried filling the void with other omegas. he had succeeded in his pursuit of making his feelings diminish, but the damage had been done and a reputation had already been attached to his name by the time he decided to stop

your poor beomie, you had thought, if only you had met him earlier

you guess it was only fair to tell him who you had your first experience with – that is, if he wasn't so goddamn good with his mouth —

a light smack against your thigh had pulled you out of your thoughts, his tongue back to devouring you now, unable to wait as your slick trickled delectably from your hole, your alpha unable to resist the pull of your scent

your hand tightens in his hair, gasping when he slides a digit into you

"you're really not gonna tell me?" he speeds up, massaging your gummy walls deliciously as he makes out with your little bundle of nerves again

your hips attempt to buck, but remain immovable under his firm hold

god, he was turning your brain into mush

and he was enjoying it probably a lot more than he should have, slowing his pace and then speeding it up again. you scramble to form words as he plays with you, moans and whimpers escaping you every time you go to speak

your orgasm was creeping up on you again – and fast

"my baby can't even think right now, huh?" he teases, circling the tip of his tongue around your nub before sucking it into his warm mouth again, chuckling deeply against it – your eyes roll to the back of your skull

"c'mon, tell alpha who it was" he commands

the vibrations from his voice shoot straight up your spine, making you scream – "god– fuck beomgyu! it was taehyun!" you finally manage to get out, unable to disobey him

his mouth pulls off again temporarily, "taehyun?" he asks incredulously, adding a second digit, "the guy next door?"

that magician fucker? he thinks to himself, his brows furrow as he doubles his efforts, making you cry out and writhe against his hold

he liked taehyun a little less now

"yes, beomgyu! can we please talk about him later? i'm so close, please!"

"fine" he huffs, going back to eating you out, fingers curling upward, hooking right into that yummy spot that has you losing all sense again

streams upon streams of slick are pouring out of you and you'd be mortified at the feeling and sound of beomgyu vulgarly slurping it all up – even turning his head side to side – if you weren't on the edge of what you were sure was going to be the best orgasm of your life right now

"alpha– yes! oh my god, please don't stop!"

he peers up at you to see that you've gone cross eyed, the sight making him moan in satisfaction, sending more shockwaves and vibrations through your pussy

you could feel it coming now, tethering on the line between heaven and earth, nails digging into his scalp, moaning shamelessly

beomgyu swirls his tongue just right when—

"YOOHOO!" your roommate's voice and kai's little giggle sounds through the house, the front door shutting behind them

you gasp, shoving beomgyu's head from between your legs, snapping them shut

he genuinely looked like he was about to dive back in, you think, crossing them just to be safe – whimpering as your orgasm fades once again

his eyes are dark as he stares into yours, wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand before licking it all up, groaning in frustration

"y/n? you awake?" you hear your roommate call as you push beomgyu off the bed and scramble to find your panties on the floor

"i– yeah! i'll be out in a minute!" you're still catching your breath, pulling on a pair of pants and gesturing for beomgyu to follow you out into the kitchen

the burn in your core had only intensified now

your cheeks burn as you sit on the couch next to beomgyu, your friends picking fun at you

"you should've seen them this morning, yeonjun! trying to tiptoe around the apartment. hah! it was the funniest thing ever!" your best friend cackles, clutching onto her stomach

"i would've paid good money to see that!" yeonjun laughs, wiping stray tears from his eyes

"fuck off, jun!" beomgyu laughs too now, shoving at the alpha

"finally man. i seriously thought you were gonna off yourself soon if you didn't get any!" he slows down now, earning himself a smack from hueningkai too

"okay, guys! enough! let's talk about tonight", kai chimes in, gathering his breath

"wait, what's happening tonight?" you ask, shifting closer to beomgyu. his hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers and your heart skips a beat

"you guys don't know? there's another tribe party tonight. new pack is being welcomed and everything", kai sits up

"already? hybe-house is really expanding now. what's the name of the new pack anyways?" you ask, momentarily shocked

"you would know if you and beomgyu weren't too busy banging— oof" a pillow hits yeonjun square in the face as he laughs, kai already threatening to hit him with another one

"they're gonna be called enha-pack or something," your best friend informs, scratching her head, "their last alpha presented a week ago, so they're celebrating. everybody's invited"

"makes sense for a pack to be formed already, considering hueningkai was the last alpha to present in ours," beomgyu states thoughtfully, "i heard some of their alphas presented super early too"

"interesting," you think out loud. "do they have an assigned pack leader?"

"yeah, a guy named jungwon. i met him at leadership training a few months ago! he's a really cool guy" kai beams

"then tonight should be great!" yeonjun cheers, his eyes scanning you and beomgyu, "you two coming?"

"absolutely not" beomgyu spoke with finality, "my omega's in pre-heat – and as much as i'd love to show my baby off..." he says, eyes locking onto yours, "i'm not letting her around other alphas like this, especially ones that presented just the other day"

his thumb traces circles over the back of your hand, making your heart do several flips

"good point" your best friend says, grinning at you knowingly

yeonjun makes a gagging noise, "okay, whatever. i'll just ask taehyun to join me"

"that magician fucker?" kai asks, laughing as his mate shoves him

"hyuka! take that back" your best friend gasps, chastising him

beomgyu cackles next to you, "hey, i call him that too! – and since when are you guys friends?" his attention directs back to yeonjun

"i actually know him from life guarding with me at the bay every summer, remember?" yeonjun informs. "plus, he seriously needs to get out more. y'know he really used to get down and dirty back in the day! that magic shit used to get omegas crazy–"

"taehyun?! there's no way!" your best friend gasps, eyes comically large

"yeah, you didn't know?" kai stretches, "where'd you guys think your cute little alpha got all his experience from?" he puts "cute" in air commas, looking right at you

"am i missing something here?" yeonjun questions, head whipping around to look at all of you – especially tilting his head at you

"nope! nothing at all! i think we should head out, right beomie?" you say, standing abruptly, tugging beomgyu with you

beomgyu chuckles, "yeah, we probably should. you guys have fun at that party. let us know how it goes" he sings as he allows you to pull him to kai's front door

"hold on! where will you guys be? i mean– you aren't going back to our place with y/n's heat and all..." your best friend trails off, smiling mischievously

"oh you don't have to worry about that," he smirks, "i'll be taking care of her at mine", is the last thing beomgyu says before he leads you out to his car, your friends hollering behind the two of you – you, blushing profusely

his scent is everywhere

— you note as you step into beomgyu's home, that woody amber engulfing you and wrapping around you like a cozy blanket

your core was blazing now and it was your turn to be all over him

but your alpha had other plans, placing you on his plush sofa and telling you to stay put while he gathered food and other things around his place for what will be a very long week ahead

well, at least one of you were level headed right now

you watch as he stores the last water bottle in the fridge before returning to where you're seated, his lips capturing yours

finally, you think, your arms snaking around his shoulders before he pulls away – a gentle hand on your chin, chuckling at the confusion on your face

"i just wanna spend a little more time with you before we go crazy" he clarifies and you sigh dreamily, nodding with understanding

after all, today would be the last day the two of you would get to spend together – sane, before you'd be fucking like, well, animals tomorrow

"wanted to show you something" he says, excitedly getting up and running to his room, where he returns from with his guitar case in hand

"what's all this?" you ask, eyes following him as he plugs in and sets up his fancy equipment for his electric guitar

"just a little something i put together" his teeth worry his bottom lip as he pulls out a sheet of music, some words scribbled in-between

you're already entranced when he picks at the first string, coaxing the guitar to sing, watching your reactions with quiet intent

the tune is slow, deliberate and your heart does somersaults when beomgyu opens his mouth to sing – sweet nothings describing your eyes, your lips, the way your laugh makes him come undone for the first time in years and ultimately — how he fell in love with you at first sight

god, were you supposed to feel for your mate what you were starting to feel for beomgyu already?

his husky voice melts into you, drawing you into a dazed-like state, his words settling deep inside of you – undoing every doubt of how serious he is about you

you were falling for him – and you were falling for him fast

you allow yourself to look at him, really look at him and how enchantingly beautiful he is and you realize — your heart dropping to your toes — that you could do this for the rest of your life

the song nears it's end now as he lets the melody land softly, trailing off as his eyes lift to yours, taking in your reaction

your eyes flit between his, releasing a breath you didn't know you were holding as you whisper, "beomgyu, that was..." he sets his guitar aside, making room for you to crawl into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around you. "that was beautiful. when did you have the time to create this?"

your hands cup his face as he speaks, "i started writing it since the first day we actually talked," he grins, "when you gave me that strict set of rules"

you laugh now, recalling your first few conversations with the alpha, how incredibly weary you were – and how you had already noticed how unfairly gorgeous he was, even in your state of denial

"did you like it?" he asks, his gaze travelling all over your face in sweet adoration

"i loved it" you say, leaning in to give him a gentle unhurried kiss, which he happily returns

you remain like that for the rest of the day, hours flying by as you and beomgyu talk about anything and everything, your tummy hurting at times with how hard he made you laugh – him, playing more tunes for you on his guitar, singing for you until late into the night

his voice lulls you to a state of sleepiness, beomgyu scooping you into his arms and carrying you to his bedroom, where he kisses you goodnight sweetly

your body was begging for him by now and you had become a little fussy until he promised you – low and certain – that he'd be taking care of you in the way you needed him to, tomorrow

your omega was excited for the day that lied ahead

agony — burning — whimpering

you wake up in a puddle of your own slick, your hand immediately reaching for the alpha next to you, meeting the bare skin of his chest

"b-beomgyu–" your voice cracks on another whimper

"i'm here, baby" he answers, his raspy morning voice causing more arousal to pool in your panties as he rolls on top of you, wasting no time in slotting his lips to yours

you automatically spread your thighs wider to accommodate him, hips bucking up to meet the delicious friction of his already hard cock on your clothed folds

your omega was feral inside of you – and this time you did not want to argue with her at all

"alpha–" you moan between kisses, causing him to growl deep in his chest, "alpha, i need you, please"

his hips roll harder against you, your nails clutching onto his shoulders, wailing for him as a hot flash wracks your body

there's no way beomgyu was trying to take things slow right now, you fuss to yourself, shoving him off of you before climbing on top of him, shamelessly dragging your swollen bundle of nerves along the outline of his hardness

god, he looks so pretty underneath you, you think — hair a little tousled, eyebrows furrowed, lip tucked between his teeth and hands gripping onto your hips

a sudden thought crosses your mind – a thought that you're unable to shake

"b-beomie– wanna suck you off, please? can i please?" you beg, driving harder onto him, making him choke on air as his eyes widen, staring up at you

don't give in, beomgyu, he tells himself, you should be taking care of her, not the other way around–

"please alpha, i really want to" you whimper, core igniting at the thought of having him in your mouth – nearly salivating

"fuck" he curses under his breath, "okay baby, get on your knees" he instructs and your omega is quick to push you to obey – which you happily do, sinking to his bedroom floor as he comes to a stand in front of you

fuck, he looks even taller from this angle, you think, hands making quick work of the strings on his sweats, before his own hands swat yours away

he lowers the waistband and you catch a glimpse of the smooth planes of skin on his adonis belt, his hand reaching to take his rock hard cock out, slowly

you gasp as you finally see it for the first time, thick, long and veiny – the tip a pretty pink oozing with pre-cum, just daring you to lean forward and have a taste – which you're about to do until beomgyu's hand catches your jaw, cupping the nape of your neck

"easy, baby. ' want you to take it nice and slow for me" he purrs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip as his other hand lazily jerks his cock, small groans sounding from deep in his chest – the sight makes you squeeze your thighs together, whining for him to give it to you

"open up" he commands, tapping his heavy tip on your tongue that has now lolled out of your mouth, quick to lower your jaw to accommodate him

"good girl" he rasps as he feeds his length into your mouth, the praise making you keen as you're determined to take him in fully, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes

you whimper as he pushes to the back of your throat, triggering your gag reflex

he snickers wickedly, "what, taehyun never taught you how to use your mouth? relax your jaw for me baby", he teases

you whine around him, the possessiveness in his tone making slick pool under you, unlocking your jaw as he instructed

"there we go" he exhales as he draws back, only to push in slowly again, a hand tangling in your hair

his head is thrown back, adams apple on full display as he groans and moans deeply while steadily thrusting his hips back and forth, but you have other plans

both of your hands come up to wrap around him, thumbs and middle fingers barely touching as you start working them around his base, bobbing your head up and down on his length – his precum coating your tongue

"fuck" he grunts, sucking in air between his teeth – shuddering as you speed up and twirl your tongue around the tip when you pull off, only one thing on your heat-clouded mind

you want his cum

"baby, i told you to– holy shit" he chokes on his own spit for the second time today, nearly losing himself at the feel of you hollowing your cheeks around him, humming needily

your pussy's on fire watching beomgyu lose his mind, throbbing and pulsing every time he moans – those sexy moans you could not get enough of

god, you're so turned on right now, you realize as you reach a hand down between your thighs, desperately trying to relieve some of the ache

you take a deep breath before pushing him to the back of your throat again, nose kissing his abdomen

that forces another guttural moan out of him, looking down to see you touching yourself and the sight is nearly enough to make him come undone

"fuck yes, does sucking your alpha's cock make you that needy, hm? couldn't control yourself anymore?" he rasps, dick throbbing and heavy on your tongue

you pull off, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his tip, "want you to cum, want your cum alpha, please" you finally confess, your lips sealing around his tip again and he grunts – nearly indulging himself in the feel of your mouth again before he gains his senses and pulls you off, cupping your face and pulling you up to stand

fuck, you're a little minx, he thinks to himself

"i'm not gonna be coming today before you do" he asserts, the tone of his voice leaving no room for you to argue as you whine

you cling to him as he guides you back onto the bed, softly setting you on your back – making sure your head is supported with his pillow

his lips claim yours again, the fire between your thighs igniting excitedly as he kisses his way down your neck, pausing to remove your shirt

he curses under his breath at the sight of you – bare and ready – and kisses between your mounds before engulfing one of your nipples into his mouth – a breathy moan escaping you as he moves to the other, expertly twirling his tongue around the peak

god, you love his mouth

his kisses and nibbles travel down your torso, eating up the expanse of your belly as he reaches the waistband of your pants, his eyes peeking up at yours

"may i?" comes his husky voice, to which you nod quickly, followed by a breathy yes

another featherlight kiss is placed right above your waistband before he pulls your pants and panties off in one go, hastily tossing them to the floor

he's ravenous as he mouths at the skin of your inner thighs now, hands settling on the soft flesh to coax them further apart

two fingers caress your glistening folds, swirling the delectable arousal around before dragging them up to your clit, where he draws teasing little circles – your breath hitching as he continues to toy with you

your scent is much stronger now, honey curling around beomgyu as he simply breathes you in, his alpha prodding at him to taste, to claim, to relieve your pain

he slides the two digits down to your entrance again, a loaded kiss landing on your swollen bundle of nerves

you whimper, bucking your hips in an attempt to get him to give you what you want, his chuckle sounding low against your core

"i actually like you like this, so desperate for me" – another lingering kiss on your bundle of nerves, his fingers prodding your entrance

you're so goddamn worked up, if beomgyu would just stop being a tease–

a skilled digit eases into you and you sigh contentedly as he starts to curl it inside of you, deep and slow. your contentment doesn't last long however, your core soon demanding more

"a–alpha, i need more, please" you nearly sob when he adds a second digit, expertly curling it to find that spot – the one that has your walls quivering around him as he picks up his pace, slick causing an obscene squelch to sound through the room

"feels good?" he snickers, lips still hovering over and teasing your little bundle of nerves, making you whimper as it pulses painfully for him

"still need more, please" you rake a hand into his hair, in hopes of egging him on, but to no avail

"so pretty when you beg for me, baby. c'mon, beg for me some more"

god, he's driving you insane

"tell alpha what you want him to do" he demands, another curl of his fingers making your mouth fall agape

"beomie please, i want your mouth– please make me come with your mouth...it hurts" your voice trembles, ovaries burning when you lock eyes with him

"good girl" a light spank lands on the side of your thigh, making you jolt

his gaze is ravenous as he finally lowers his mouth, easily sucking your bundle of nerves into the wet warmth – a deep possessive growl rippling through your core as he watches your eyes roll to the back of your skull, head falling back onto his pillow

beomgyu loves seeing you like this — completely at his mercy as he absolutely ravishes you with his skilled mouth, swirling his tongue around your clit again and again

you cry out as his fingers double their efforts, driving into you as he releases your little bundle of nerves, only to flatten his tongue and lick a fat stripe up from where his digits are scissoring you open

"fucking love the way you taste, baby – love that it's all mine"

he slowly pulls his two fingers out, quickly replacing them with his tongue, driving the muscle in and out of your entrance before burying his face between your thighs, vulgarly slurping at the honey-like slick dripping from you — his moans deep and guttural at what your body has to offer

you're borderline delirious now

wanton moans and wails of his name fall from your lips as your hips buck into his eager mouth, his fingers filling you once more, hooking them into that yummy spot in a come-hither motion again and again

his other hand squeezes onto the flesh on the underside of your thigh, beckoning you to grind harder onto his tongue as he flattens the muscle for you to ride on

your orgasm's creeping up on you now – fast – and it doesn't seem like beomgyu has any plans of slowing down, grunting as he feels you start to pulse around his fingers

"alpha! alpha! i'm gonna come!" you cry, thighs trembling around his head before white-hot pleasure consumes you, his mouth not stopping it's assault on your cunt – humming as the taste of honey coats his tongue

you're too far gone to tell him to stop as he eases a third finger in, the stretch making you gasp as he works them into you with more purpose

"a-alpha– s'too much..." your breath hitches when his mouth pulls off, trailing up your body until he's hovering over you, hand cupping your face as his thumb traces your bottom lip, pulling down

"i need to prep you, baby. just give me one more, just like this" he says, placing a sweet kiss to your lips – in total contrast with his thumb finding purchase on your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing tight little circles and rendering you dumb once more

your second high approaches you fast, the stretch instantly becoming delicious to your heat-clouded mind – pliant and inclined to take anything your alpha gives you

he's merciless and deep with his ministrations, your hips quickly rolling up to chase the pleasure and sweet relief that you can almost taste on your tongue – your blazing core eager for him to give you more, more, more

it doesn't take you long to reach your second orgasm, crying out as your alpha works you with hungry intent, momentarily reducing you to mindlessness. your jaw goes slack as your body writhes, trembling before going still

"baby? you still with me?" you hear his voice next to your ear, chuckling as you come back to your senses, pussy still pulsing around his digits

"yeah" is all you're able to utter – in total bliss, working on catching your breath instead

you're pulled out of your daze when you feel his fingers giving another experimental tease against that sensitive spot inside of you, gasping as you grab onto his wrist, "b-beomie–"

he chuckles wickedly against your temple, "just playing with you, baby" he finally slides them out and like standard procedure – slips them into his mouth

his hand returns between your thighs, cupping your mound, "you ready for me?" he trails sweet kisses down the skin of your neck again, pausing to suck a mark into the flesh

beomgyu's going to be the death of you, you think

your body surprises you as it ignites once again – the thought of having him inside of you getting you excited now, pushing out rivulets of slick – knowing there was only one thing that could put out the fire in your core: his knot

he lifts his head to assess you again only to find you already looking fucked out, unable to resist the urge to kiss you, the taste of honey from his mouth making you hum into his

his hips slot themselves between your thighs again, his fat, mushroom tip gliding over your sensitive nub, riling you up once more

you whine, breaking away from his sweet kiss, "need you inside, beomie. please don't tease"

he cups your face, "yeah? you think you can take it?"

"i can take it!" your omega was desperate now, your abdomen purring with anticipation as his hips grind against you harder, dragging his heavy cock over your folds

your breath hitches as the tip prods at your entrance, almost pushing past the tight ring of muscle before your alpha pauses, "tell me if it hurts, okay?" he commands softly, taking ahold of the base

you nod quickly, gasping when he slowly inches is tip into you, the stretch already hurting so good, you attempt to lift your hips to meet his

he groans, brows furrowed and hand gripping onto your inner thigh hard as he forces you back down onto the mattress

you whine again, "beomie– alpha, need more, please"

he sinks a few more inches into you, making you keen as you try to buck your hips again, but to no avail, your attempts no match for his authoritative strength

he's biting down on his lip, eyebrows furrowed as he buries himself to the hilt, momentarily stealing your breath

you feel...so full right now

he's still inside of you, causing you to huff frustratedly, "beomie move, please" you beg

his tone is gravelly when he opens his mouth to speak, "just give me a minute baby, i'm trying really hard not to blow my goddamn load right now"

your walls throb around him at that and beomgyu swears he might lose it

he's never had to gather himself when he's been inside another omega before – your sopping, trembling cunt nearly making him lose all sense of himself – this was a first for him

you feel him pull back not too long after gaining some control, willing his orgasm and his knot away as he starts to push into you again, setting a slow steady rhythm

his mouth lowers to your neck, nibbling at the skin as he rolls his hips into yours, your hands clutching onto his arms as moans fall shamelessly from your lips now

your body demands more, core feeling like a furnace, the pace beomgyu going at not helping to soothe the ache, instead amplifying it

you need him to use you, ruin you

"faster beomgyu, please" you beg, legs wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the backs of his thighs in an attempt to egg him on

another slow drag of his cock, right against that mouthwatering spot inside of you makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull, beomgyu snickering as he lifts head to watch you

"but baby, why? doesn't this feel so good?" he does it again, making your nails bite into his his biceps, pulling a groan from his chest

you will your eyes open, wound up as you fuss, "it could feel better if you would just fuck me"

"aw, stop being so crude baby, it's our first time. i'm trying to make love to you", he grins menacingly as he continues his slow, shallow thrusts

god, he just had to tease you right now

"you can make love to me some other time, beomgyu! right now i need you to fuck me" you huff, not very far from sobbing too

he sighs dramatically, "very well" before he pulls out and you're ready to protest until you're flipped onto your stomach

the alpha manhandles you so that one of your knees are hiked up, giving him the perfect view of your dripping cunt as he wastes no time in sheathing himself inside again with a growl, pulling out until his tip is still nestled in your warmth before pushing back in

"beomgyu, holy fuck!" you wail, hands fisting the sheets as he sets a brutal pace immediately, a heavy hand landing on the flesh of your ass

"this what you wanted, huh baby?" he rasps into your ear before lifting himself, placing his other hand on the back of your neck for more leverage as he gives you a particularly hard thrust

"yes! god, yes!" you cry out, unable to form another thought

you plant your hand that's closest to your knee on the mattress, lifting slightly and turning your torso to get a look at him and oh god—

the sight of him — dark hair covering his eyes – tongue poking smugly at the corner of his mouth – the lean muscles of his pecs and abdomen flexing with every drive into your pussy – the veins along the skin of his adonis belt, even more prominent on his arms and hands that he uses to bend you as he pleases

you don't recall beomgyu ever telling you that he was working out, his inexplicable strength making so much more sense to you now

if you knew beomgyu had the ability to fold you into a goddamn pretzel, you would've let him fuck you a long time ago, you tell yourself in your delirium

your pussy pulses painfully around him the longer you look, making him lift his gaze, catching you ogling and drooling over him

"like what you see baby?" he asks, even more smug, thrusting deeper against that spot inside of you

"uh-huh–" is all you can get out as your jaw goes slack, more wanton cries falling from your lips

"feels good?" he smiles triumphantly when he feels you clench around him

"yes alpha! please don't stop, please" you plead, watching him release a possessive growl, fucking into you so hard, the headboard starts banging against the wall

beomgyu could stay like this forever – watching your hand fist in the sheets, your ass jiggle with every smack of his hips against you, your back arching as he feels you start to squeeze around his cock

you're getting close already

another heavy smack against your backside makes you yelp, loving how your alpha was absolutely taking you, using you as he pleases

your eyes flutter closed as the pleasure starts to consume you, another smack making them snap open

"eyes on me, baby. ' want you to look at me when you come, look at who's making you feel this good" he demands in that deep, territorial tone

his words coupled with the unforgiving drag of his length against your sweet spot is what pushes you over the edge, trembling around him as you fight to keep your eyes locked on his, crying "alpha! alpha!" before he slows and pulls out

you're still catching your breath when he removes his hand from the back of your neck, massaging where he had gripped, placing it next to your head instead – his other hand coming to rest on the flesh of your hip, caressing it affectionately. he leans down, pressing a proud, tender kiss against your temple before he asks, "more?"

"yes, please" you hum, your body still buzzing for him, "want your knot" you confess, gaze pleading with his

he curses under his breath before lifting himself off of you, that deep octave returning when he instructs, "all fours. present for me, baby"

your omega rejoices at the command and you do exactly as he asks, palms flat on the mattress as you raise yourself up on your knees, back arching instinctively as you put your ass and sopping pussy on display for him once more

beomgyu's unable to keep his hands off of you, admiring you in what was the known natural position for submission

this is it, this is you handing full vulnerability to your alpha

you feel him place a kiss between your shoulder blades, whispering reverently, "you look so perfect like this," before you feel his still rock hard cock nudging your entrance – you push your hips back against him eagerly

he wastes no time sliding into you, your slick from your previous orgasm making it easy, both of you moaning out at the feeling

beomgyu's hands find purchase on your hips as he starts driving into you, head thrown back as he starts to lose himself in your wet warmth

he swivels his hips just right to find that perfect spot inside of you again – the spot that he loves so much, because it makes you do this—

"beomgyu, don't stop!" you pant, fucking yourself back on his thick cock, back arching deeper

oh he does not plan on stopping at all, he thinks, biting down on his bottom lip as he increases his tempo, your pussy clamping down on him, ass slapping against his pelvis

another heavy smack lands against your backside, it jiggling and immediately becoming red with the impact as he groans

how you loved the feel of his hands on you – it was just like in the dream: grip firm and strong, guiding you back and forth onto his merciless thrusts, claiming you, taking control of you, handling you as he pleased

and then his voice, smug and husky when he taunts, "you're close for me already, aren't you?" – a deep chuckle following when you tighten around him immediately

"yes! yes alpha, please–" you choke on a gasp as he works himself into your cunt at an inhumane speed, tip nearly kissing your cervix with how ruthless he becomes. the cord in your stomach was wrung tight, ready to snap at any moment

this orgasm was going to take you straight to heaven

you sob as his tip glides against that delicious spot inside of you once more, triggering your release as you nearly scream, hands twisting in the sheets as slick gushes out from you

you're rendered brainless as you cry, "alpha! alpha! breed me! claim me, please! mark me! make me yours– fuck–!"

your thighs are still trembling when beomgyu manhandles you onto your back, wasting no time in burying his length into you once more, keeping the same unforgiving pace, a hand settling on your throat and the other on your little bundle of nerves. you wail, delirious now as he lowers himself and bores his eyes into yours, gaze making goosebumps erupt all over your skin – the look in his eyes nothing less than primal

"you really want this?" he asks, voice soft – tentative and strained compared to his cock's unending abuse of your pussy

"to be marked and claimed by me – making you mine for life, for eternity?"

god, you've never wanted anything more in your entire life

you nod frantically, hands cupping his face as you wrap your legs around his waist, whimpering as you feel his knot start to form

"words, baby" he urges, a particularly hard thrust punching the air out of your lungs

"yes!" you whisper – voice breaking, "yes, i want you, beomgyu. i want us, i want this..." – your eyes plead with his – "for eternity"

your hand grips onto the hair at the back of his head and you watch as pride and instinct consumes him, your words washing over him and making him shiver before he whispers back, devotedly and wholeheartedly, "then i'm yours, baby" before placing a kiss on your neck

"and you are mine"

that's the last thing beomgyu says before his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, the pleasure and sharp pain pulling another earth shattering orgasm from you, his knot swelling to its full size as his cum shoots deep into you, copious amounts pumping into your womb – making you gasp as tears gather and in your eyes and roll down your temples into your hairline – your back arching, nails raking down his back and hand clutching tighter onto his hair

your omega is finally satiated as she sighs inside of you, beomgyu's alpha doing the same – your wolves finally fully in sync and bonded

his hips slow to a stop before he removes his teeth from your flesh, tenderly kissing the wound and soothing it with his tongue

his knot continues to slowly pump cum into you, lifting his head as his hand around your throat cups your nape now, whispering informatively, "your turn to mark me, baby"

and you do so without hesitation – only after surveying the skin of his neck and the veins that run along it, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows, preparing himself to now be claimed, to be owned by you too

your teeth sinks into the smooth flesh, beomgyu moaning deep in his throat as you hum, feeling his arm slide around your waist, hugging you to him

you imitate his earlier actions when you're done marking him, kissing and soothing the wound with your tongue before pulling back, head plopping back onto his pillow. beomgyu pants as he captures your lips with his, his kiss conveying everything he couldn't put into words, arms circling around you tighter

never in a million years could he have imagined this – that he'd feel so fulfilled, so complete and it's amplified when you disconnect your lips from his, only to whisper:

"i think i love you" – and he chuckles endearingly, his heart doing somersaults

"i think i love you too", his forehead comes to rest on yours

by now the woody amber scent in his room had been sweetly tainted with honey – bleeding into the rest of his home – a blend that your alpha eagerly welcomed as he deeply inhaled the air around him

his knot was still slotted at the entrance of your warmth, beomgyu husking softly, "can't even move yet, baby. looks like i'm stuck inside you", that stupid little grin of his taking over his face

"it's okay. i like having you inside of me" you purr right into his ear, wrapping your arms around his neck deliberately as your thighs settle tighter against his waist, nestling him snugly in your center

he sucks air between his teeth, groaning as you purposely clench down on him – your heat induced body already starting to burn again

he chuckles wickedly, the softness replaced by mischief as he rasps, taunting, "is that so?"

he claims your lips with his before he starts moving again, only to be interrupted as his phone rings on his nightstand

he's determined to ignore it as his tongue slips into your mouth, you humming into him – but the ringtone persists incessant, beomgyu snarling as he breaks the heated kiss

the bond was already making him so territorial

you didn't mind that at all

yeonjun's name blinks back at you on the caller id, beomgyu answering the phone and you're quick to click on the speaker button

"what?" your alpha asks, tone gravelly

"guess what! guess what happened at the party last night, dude! "

"what?" beomgyu repeats, huffing

"taehyun found his mate!" you hear the older alpha exclaim excitedly on the other side of the phone

"what's that got to do with me?" beomgyu asks, raising a questioning eyebrow, making you swallow a laugh

"because, beomgyu he's not the only one that found his mate..."

you and beomgyu's eyes both widen, mouths falling agape

"i found my mate too...

and she's perfect"

scz notes: that brings us to the end of this rollercoaster ride! (yeonjun seriously needs to stop calling people when they just got done canoodling)

➛ guitarist heartthrob gyu, how are we feeling?

➛ soob & gyu tension uncovered from soft dom alpha!soobin hcs!

➛ inspo edits for gyu in this chapter: 1 , 2 , 3

➛ taehyun & yeonjun finding their mates, yipee!

feedback is welcomed & appreciated :3

pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, masterlist

[breathe4me]

TING FROM BARKIN

°˖➴being a brat was in beomgyu's DNA, he was pure bred after all. and an apex predator, who wouldn't bow down for him? wolf hybrid! beomgyu ><

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ unestablished relationships between TXT and reader

𓏵 dog kisses, being left out, ruts, begging, whimpering, gyu has tats and piercings, pee mentioned its my work yk ts by now, im bad at tagging these so yk read at your own risk, biting, scratching, evil gyu, BRAT gyu, alpha gyu, knots, degrading talk

🎧ྀི♪⋆.✮ now playing BOTH SIDES by NCT JNJM

WC: 1k> -- m.list

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who has the tips of his ears pierced and looks like the most evil pup ever but he's actually the sweetest thing when you get to know him.

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who bites you when you try and take off his one million necklaces because you can't clip his leash on.

i need to take at least 2 off, i cant see your collar beomgyu.

so you hate me? you want me to die? you want me to have no swag? you want me to get no bitches?

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who is an actual bastard. he will go through the cupboards whilst everyone is asleep and eat all of the treats you had bought him; in the morning he'd play sly, acting all innocent and batting his eyelashes. the worst part is: all of you fell for it, every, single, time.

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who has his tongue pierced and runs it along your neck to tease you.

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who buys a vibrating tongue bar for when he goes down on your, rubbing it against your clit and holding it there whilst his fingers vigorously pump in and out of you.

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who loves your boobs and could spend HOURS sucking on them. he gets very upset when one of the members drags him away from them.

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who often needs to be settled because he can become so bratty. it usually ends with him bent over one of his hyung's laps (hyuka or tyun are very likely too) with his boxers around his ankles as he gets spanked. his tail never stops wagging though.

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who uses you and the members as his own personal chew toy. the 5 of you are constantly covered in his slobber.

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who attacks other dogs in the dog park when they get near any of his owners because they're his and he doesn't like to share.

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who uses the fact that he's a pure bred wolf to his advantage. he walks with his head held high and tail pointed to the sky.

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who has a bad habit of humping pillows. when he misses someone, the first thought of his is to go to their room and hump their pillow, rubbing his cock all over the soft fabric and staining it with his cum. he never changes the cover. why would he ever do that?

ᯓ★ wolf hybrid! BEOMGYU who has peed all over yeonjun more than once because he's come home from a night out smelling like a different man/woman. it makes his skin crawl.

@tomorrowbytogayther @ottersforsoobin @yawnjjunnie @jjunniecoree

[yourfavtangerine]

I loved the chaebol soobin fic so much omg. Not sure if you write A/B/O dynamics but can I request a fic with chaebol beomgyu and debt ridden university student reader? It would be great if the word count could be similar to the soobin chaeboo fic. Thanks!

Repayment due

Beta!chaebol!Beomgyu x omega!university student!reader

Omegaverse, slow burn, forbidden love?, fluff, smut

Wc:~11.5k

Warnings: smut, heat sex, fingering, unprotected sex, biting/marking, knotting-adjacent elements even though he’s a beta, scenting, financial/power imbalance, mentions of crushing debt and loan, hurt/comfort, nesting (is that even a warning?)

A/N: war is over! I finally finished this one! It took me 3 or 4 weeks lmao. Now the last chapter of Cabin Hearts will be late but it was worth it!

The fluorescent lights above the campus café buzzed like dying insects, a constant low drone that had become the soundtrack of your final semester. It was late October 20XX, the kind of Seoul autumn that arrived with damp wind and the smell of wet asphalt and you were already counting down the hours until your next shift ended. Eighteen more minutes. Then you could collapse onto the thin mattress in your one-room studio and pretend, for at least six hours, that the world wasn’t slowly crushing you under compound interest.

You wiped the same spot on the stainless-steel counter for the third time in ten minutes. The rag was gray with old coffee grounds and your own nervous sweat. Every time the bell above the door chimed you flinched, not because you expected trouble, but because trouble had already found you months ago and refused to leave.

Six months earlier, your father’s small logistics company had finally collapsed under a mountain of loans it could no longer service. The banks had been kind enough to wait until the funeral flowers had wilted before calling in the debt. Your mother had begged. You had begged. In the end the only offer on the table came from Choi Financial Group, the financing arm of Choi Conglomerate. They bought the entire portfolio at a discount so steep it felt like robbery dressed as mercy. Now every cent you earned at this overpriced campus café went straight into their accounts. The minimum monthly payment was exactly what you made after taxes and rent. Food, textbooks, suppressants, those came from whatever coins you found between the couch cushions or the rare customer who tipped in crumpled thousand-won notes.

Your suppressants were the worst part. Third-generation omega blockers were expensive even on the gray market. The legal ones, the kind prescribed by university health services, were laughably weak against modern heats. You’d been stretching the last blister pack for five weeks, cutting pills in half, then quarters. The edges of your control had started fraying days ago: a faint floral sweetness leaking from your pulse points whenever your heart rate climbed, the way your pupils dilated when an alpha customer leaned too close over the counter. You could still pass for beta to most people. Most people weren’t paying attention.

But someone was.

The bell chimed at 9:47 pm, three minutes before closing.

You didn’t look up right away. You were counting the last stack of paper cups, trying to decide whether you could risk taking home the day-old pastries the manager usually threw out. Then the air changed. Not dramatically. Not the way it did when an unmated alpha walked in, all cedar and dominance and posturing. This was subtler: a cool front moving through warm humidity. Petrichor after rain on concrete. Clean metal left out in the autumn night. Almost no scent at all and yet unmistakable once you noticed it.

You lifted your eyes. Choi Beomgyu stood just inside the doorway, shaking rain from the sleeves of a charcoal wool coat that probably cost more than your annual tuition. Black turtleneck underneath, black trousers, silver rings on three of his fingers. His hair was damp, dark strands clinging to his forehead in a way that looked artfully careless but probably took a stylist thirty minutes to achieve. He carried no umbrella. Apparently billion-won heirs didn’t need them; the rain simply parted for them.

He scanned the nearly empty café once, then walked straight to the counter. You kept your head down, focusing on the register like it might save you.

"Americano" he said. "Iced. Two pumps vanilla. No whip."

His voice was low, almost lazy, the kind of tone that made people lean in without realizing they were doing it. You nodded, already moving.

"Anything else?" you asked, keeping your tone flat and professional.

He didn’t answer immediately. You felt his gaze settle on you the way sunlight settles on skin: warm, steady, impossible to ignore.

You turned to the espresso machine. Your hands shook once, only once, but the portafilter clattered against the group head louder than it should have. You cursed under your breath.

When you pivoted back with the finished drink, he was still watching. You set the cup down. Plastic lid. Black straw. No sleeve because the café was too cheap to provide them after 9 pm.

His fingers brushed yours as he took it. Not an accident. The contact lasted half a second longer than necessary. His skin was cool from the rain outside; yours felt feverish by comparison. A tiny, involuntary thread of your scent escaped: honeyed peonies, rain-damp petals, the exact fragrance your mother used to say reminded her of spring picnics before the company started bleeding money.

Beomgyu went still. Not dramatically. Just… still. Like a predator deciding whether the prey was worth the chase.

You yanked your hand back as if burned. "I’m sorry" you said automatically. "The scent...it’s not...I’m on suppressants."

He tilted his head, studying you. His eyes were dark brown, almost black under the café lights, and there was something unreadable in them. Not hunger. Not pity. Curiosity, maybe. Or recognition.

"Pretty" he said quietly.

You blinked.

"The scent" he clarified, though his gaze never left your face. "Peonies. Fresh ones, not the synthetic crap they put in perfume. Dangerous to let it slip in a place like this. Half the business school alphas would pay good money to bottle that and sell it on the dark web."

Your stomach dropped so fast you felt nauseous. "I didn’t mean to" you whispered. "It’s been a long shift. The blockers are-"

"Wearing thin" he finished for you. Not a question.

You nodded once, throat tight. He tapped his black card against the reader. The machine beeped. You glanced at the screen out of habit.₩150,000 tip.

Your breath caught. "That’s..." You couldn’t finish the sentence.

"Generous?" he supplied, one corner of his mouth lifting. "Or insulting?"

You didn’t know how to answer. He slid the card back into his wallet: sleek black leather, no visible brand because the truly expensive things never needed logos and leaned one elbow on the counter. Casual. Like he had nowhere else to be at ten minutes to ten on a Tuesday night.

"Choi Beomgyu" he said, as though introducing himself to someone who might genuinely not know. "Third year. Business. And you are…?"

You hesitated. Giving your name to the son of the man who owned your debt felt like handing over another piece of yourself.

He waited. Patient. Almost gentle.

You told him your first name finally. No family name. No honorific. Just the bare minimum.

He repeated it, tasting the syllables. His voice softened on the last sound, turning it into something intimate. "Pretty name too."

Heat crawled up your neck. You hated how easily your body betrayed you around him, how your pulse jumped, how another faint wave of peony escaped before you could lock it down.

He inhaled. Slowly. Deliberately. Then he smiled: small, crooked, the kind of smile that belonged on magazine covers and music video thumbnails. Everyone knew he’d modeled for a luxury brand campaign last summer. The photos had been inescapable: Beomgyu leaning against a matte-black sports car, sleeves rolled to his elbows, looking like sin wrapped in silk.

"You’re debt-ridden" he said. Not cruelly. Just stating a fact.

Your heart stopped. "How-"

"University servers aren’t exactly secured when your family pays for the new engineering building, the library renovation, and half the business school scholarships." He shrugged, as though admitting corporate espionage was no different from ordering coffee. "Your file popped up on a desk last month. Creative accounting on the repayment schedule. Interest rate that should be illegal in at least three jurisdictions. My legal team flagged it."

You felt the blood drain from your face.

"I’m not here to collect" he added quickly. "I’m here because I’ve walked past this café six times in the last two weeks and every single time I could smell peonies through the door. Even with the rain. Even with every alpha on campus trying to mark territory with their cologne. Your scent cuts through all of it."

You stared at him, mouth dry.

"And because" he continued, voice dropping, "you haven’t flinched once since I walked in. Most omegas do. They smell beta and think safe, then they smell me and remember whose name is on half their student loans. You just… kept wiping the counter. Like I was anyone else."

"I don’t have the luxury of flinching" you said. The honesty slipped out before you could catch it. "If I flinch every time someone rich walks in here, I’d spend my whole shift shaking."

Something flickered in his expression, surprise, maybe, or respect. He straightened, taking the coffee with him. "Tomorrow" he said. "Same time. Same order."

You opened your mouth to protest: closing hours, class schedules, the fact that you didn’t want him anywhere near you, but he was already walking toward the door. At the last second he paused, glanced back. "Eat something before you leave" he said. "The pastries are going in the trash anyway. Manager won’t notice if two croissants go missing."

Then he was gone. The bell chimed again. The rain swallowed his silhouette.

You stood frozen behind the counter for a long minute, fingers pressed to the place where his skin had touched yours.

When you finally moved, you opened the pastry case with shaking hands, took two croissants, and wrapped them in a napkin. You told yourself it was because you were hungry. You told yourself the tip he left was pity money, nothing more. But when you stepped outside into the cold drizzle twenty minutes later, you realized you were still holding the place on your wrist where he’d brushed you. And you weren’t sure whether you wanted to wash the scent of rain-metal off your skin or keep it there.

The next evening he came back at exactly 9:42 pm. You’d spent the entire day convincing yourself yesterday had been a fluke, a rich boy’s whim, a one-time performance of noblesse oblige. The ₩150,000 tip was still sitting untouched in your account; you hadn’t dared spend a single won of it. Every time you opened your banking app the balance stared back like an accusation. Too much. Too sudden. Too tied to him.

You told yourself you wouldn’t look up when the bell chimed. You looked up anyway. Beomgyu wore the same charcoal coat, rain-darkened at the shoulders again. Seoul’s autumn had decided to stay wet and miserable. He shook water from his sleeves the same way, casual flick of long fingers and walked directly to your end of the counter without glancing at the other two customers still nursing their drinks.

"Same as yesterday" he said. No hello. No preamble. Just the order, delivered in that low, unhurried voice that somehow made the fluorescent buzz feel quieter.

You nodded. Hands steady this time. You’d taken an extra quarter pill that morning even though it meant you’d run out earlier next week. The floral sweetness stayed locked behind your skin. Mostly.

While the espresso machine hissed, he leaned one hip against the counter and pulled out his phone. Not scrolling mindlessly like most people his age. He was reading something: dark screen, white text, dense paragraphs. Annual report? You didn’t ask.

You set the cup down. This time you remembered the sleeve even though policy said no sleeves after 9 pm. Small rebellion. Small kindness to yourself.

He noticed. "Breaking rules already?" One eyebrow arched.

"It’s cold outside" you said. "And you never take an umbrella."

A beat of silence. Then the smallest huff of amusement through his nose. "Observant."

He tapped his card. The machine beeped.₩200,000 tip.

Your fingers froze on the reader. "Beomgyu..." you started, using his name without thinking. "This is-"

"Too much?" He tilted his head. "Or not enough?"

You swallowed. "It’s more than my monthly rent."

"Good." He pocketed the card. "Then use it for rent. Or suppressants. Or actual food instead of day-old croissants."

Heat crawled up your neck. "You don’t know what I eat."

"I know you took two croissants home last night." His voice stayed soft. Almost gentle. "And I know the campus convenience store sells those 800-won kimbap rolls because they’re the only thing under a thousand won that isn’t instant ramen."

You stared at him. He shrugged one shoulder. "I pay attention."

The café was emptying. The last customer left with a jingle of the bell. You were officially closed, but you didn’t move to lock the door. Not yet.

"Why are you here?" The question slipped out before you could stop it. "Really."

Beomgyu considered you for a long moment. Rain tapped against the big front windows like fingers. "Because yesterday was the first time in months I walked into a room and didn’t immediately want to leave." He said it simply. No drama. No flourish. "Everyone on this campus either wants something from me or is terrified of me. You just… looked tired. And smelled like peonies. Both of those things felt honest."

Your throat tightened. "I can’t be your charity case" you said quietly.

"I’m not offering charity." He picked up the cup, warm sleeve crinkling under his fingers. "I’m offering a trade."

"A trade?"

"You keep making coffee that doesn’t taste like burnt regret. I keep making sure you don’t have to choose between medication and meals." He paused. "And maybe you keep not flinching when I sit here."

You exhaled through your nose. "That’s not a fair trade."

"Life rarely is." He gave that crooked half-smile again. "See you tomorrow"

He left before you could argue. The door closed. The bell rang. Rain kept falling. You stood there until the automatic lights dimmed to night mode.

The tip went straight to your suppressant order that night. High-grade blockers, prescription only, the kind that actually worked instead of just delaying the inevitable. You paid for next month’s full supply and still had money left over. You bought real groceries for the first time in three months: eggs, spinach, rice, actual fruits. When you unpacked the bags in your tiny room the scent of fresh mandarin oranges made your eyes sting. You told yourself it was allergies.

He came back the day after that. And the day after that. Always between 9:40 and 9:50 pm. Always iced americano, two pumps vanilla. Always a tip that made your stomach twist: ₩180,000 one night, ₩220,000 the next. Never the same amount. Never predictable. But always enough to keep the lights on and the pill bottle full.

He started staying longer. Not talking much at first. Just sitting at the far stool, the one half-hidden by the pastry case, phone in one hand, coffee in the other. Sometimes he read. Sometimes he typed. Once you caught him watching you wipe down the milk steamer with an expression you couldn’t name. Not lust. Not pity. Something quieter. Hungrier in a way that had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with… attention.

On the fifth night you broke pattern. You slid a small plate across the counter while he was mid-sentence on a phone call. A single pain au chocolat from that morning’s delivery. Still good. Still warm when you’d reheated it in the back oven.

He ended the call immediately. "What’s this?"

"You keep telling me to eat" you said, wiping your hands on your apron. "Figured you should practice what you preach."

He stared at the pastry like it might bite him. Then he laughed, soft, surprised, the sound catching in his throat. "You’re feeding me now?"

"Call it returning the favor."

He picked it up. Took a bite. Flakes of chocolate and butter clung to his lower lip. He licked them away without self-consciousness and your pulse did something embarrassing.

"Good" he pronounced. "Better than the ones my mother’s chef makes."

You snorted before you could stop yourself. "Liar."

"Not lying." He took another bite. "She’s French. Very particular. This one tastes like someone actually cared while they laminated the dough."

You didn’t know what to say to that. He finished the pastry in four bites, licked chocolate from his thumb and looked at you with new intensity.

"You wrote my name on the cup today" he said.

You had. Beomgyu-ssi. Neat hangul on the sleeve.

"You always write ‘customer’ or nothing at all for everyone else."

"I know your name" you said simply.

His eyes darkened. Not with heat. With something softer. More dangerous.

"Say it again."

"Beomgyu-ssi."

He exhaled like the sound punched air out of him. "Without the honorific."

You hesitated. University rules. Social rules. The invisible wall between chaebol heirs and everyone else.

"Beomgyu" you said. Quiet. Careful.

He closed his eyes for one second. When he opened them again the metal note in his scent sharpened: cold steel after rain. You’d started noticing it more lately. It only appeared when he was pleased. Or amused. Or… something else.

"Good girl" he murmured.

Your knees locked. He noticed. Of course he noticed.

"Don’t panic" he added quickly. "Just words. No command. No alpha compulsion. I’m beta, remember? I don’t even have a proper growl."

"You don’t need one" you muttered.

He smiled, slow, crooked, devastating.

The café lights flickered to night mode. Closing time. He didn’t move.

"Want me to walk you home?" he asked.

You shook your head. "I’m fine."

"It’s raining."

"I have an umbrella."

"You didn’t bring one yesterday."

You opened your mouth. Closed it. He stood. Left another envelope under the empty plate. Not cash this time. You waited until he was gone before you opened it. A single sheet of paper. Pharmacy prescription slip. High-grade suppressants, three-month supply. Brand name you’d only seen in advertisements for idols and executives. The kind that cost more than most people’s rent. No note. Just his initials in black pen: C.B.G.

Your hands shook when you folded it back into the envelope.

The next night he brought his own umbrella: big black one with a lacquered handle and held it over both of you while you locked up. You didn’t argue.

The walk to your studio took twelve minutes. He matched your pace. Didn’t crowd you. Didn’t speak unless you spoke first. Halfway there you asked the question that had been burning since day one.

"Why me?"

He thought about it for half a block. "Because you’re the only omega I’ve met in three years who hasn’t tried to scent-mark me, proposition me, or run away screaming." He glanced sideways at you. "And because when I sit in that café and watch you work, the noise in my head quiets down. Betas aren’t supposed to be affected by omega pheromones. We’re supposed to be neutral. Immune. Yet every time a little peony slips through your blockers I feel… calm. Centered. Like I can breathe properly for the first time all day."

You stopped walking. He stopped too, umbrella tilting to keep rain off your shoulder.

"That’s dangerous" you whispered.

"I know."

"You’re the Choi heir. I’m-" You gestured vaguely at yourself. At the worn sneakers. At the patched backpack. At everything.

"I know" he said again. Softer.

Rain drummed on the nylon above you.

"I can’t give you anything" you said.

"You already are." He reached out, slow enough you could pull away and brushed a raindrop from your cheek with his thumb. The touch was cool. Steady. "You exist. That’s enough."

Your breath hitched. He dropped his hand. Stepped back. Gave you space.

"Tomorrow" he said. "Same time."

You nodded because words had left you. He walked you the rest of the way in silence. At the entrance to your building he folded the umbrella and pressed it into your hands.

"Keep it" he said. "I have more."

Then he turned and disappeared into the rain. You stood in the doorway holding a several-million-won umbrella that smelled like petrichor and metal and him.

Inside your room you set it carefully in the corner like it was made of glass.

That night you dreamed of rain-soaked peonies blooming on concrete. And somewhere in the distance, someone calling your name like it was something precious.

When you woke the prescription envelope was still on your desk. You made the call to the pharmacy the next morning. They had your order ready. Three months. No co-pay. Paid in full.

The pharmacist sounded almost confused when she read the coverage code.

"Courtesy of Choi Financial Group" she said. "VIP account."

You hung up and pressed your forehead to the wall for a long time.

Then you went to work. He would be there again tonight.

6 months later

The weather app on your phone had been screaming red alerts since dawn: "Unseasonal heat spike. Risk level: severe. All omegas advised to stay indoors and double suppressant dosage." Seoul didn’t usually see this kind of false-spring heat until late April, but climate patterns had been breaking records for years. Today the temperature climbed past 24°C by noon, the air thick and syrupy even inside the university library where you were supposed to be finishing your corporate finance group project.

You weren’t. You’d left the library at 2:17 pm when the first cramp hit, sharp, low in your belly, the kind that made your thighs clench involuntarily. You told your teammates you felt nauseous. They bought it. No one questioned why your scent blockers were suddenly failing to mask the faint, cloying sweetness that started leaking from your skin the moment you stood up.

By the time you reached your new apartment (the one Beomgyu had arranged five months ago after the third time you’d fallen asleep on the studio stairs from exhaustion) it was already too late for denial.

The front door clicked shut behind you at 3:04 pm. You made it as far as the living-room rug before your legs gave out. The space still smelled mostly like fresh paint and new hardwood, but underneath that sterile newness was the slow layering of both of you: your peonies, his petrichor-and-steel. He’d spent more nights here than either of you admitted out loud. Not every night. Not yet. But enough that the couch cushions remembered the shape of his shoulders, enough that the guest-room bed stayed made because he preferred sleeping pressed against your back even when you pretended it was just for "safety during pre-heat fluctuations."

You curled onto your side now, knees to chest, forehead pressed to the cool floor. Sweat already beaded along your hairline. The heat wasn’t the slow-building kind you were used to, the kind you could medicate and muscle through with cold showers and gritted teeth. This one had arrived like a freight train: sudden, merciless, your body deciding three full months early that it had waited long enough.

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table. Beomgyu. You ignored it. Another buzz. Then a call. You let it ring out. The third time he didn’t bother with a call. He just sent a single text: where are you ?

You typed back with trembling fingers: home. don’t come. early heat. bad.

Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again. "i’m already in the elevator."

You cursed under your breath and tried to drag yourself toward the bedroom. Failed. The hallway seemed a kilometer long. Slick was already soaking through your underwear, through the thin shorts you’d worn to class under your jeans. Every movement sent another wave of fever-heat rolling through you, your scent blooming so thick it coated the back of your throat.

You were still on the living-room floor when the door opened at 4:22 pm. Beomgyu stepped inside wearing the same black cashmere coat he’d had on that morning when he’d kissed your temple before leaving for an early board meeting. His hair was mussed from running his hands through it too many times; his eyes, usually calm, almost lazy, were wide and dark with something close to panic.

He saw you and froze for half a second. Then he moved. Coat dropped. Shoes kicked off. He crossed the room in four long strides and dropped to his knees beside you.

"Baby" he breathed. One hand hovered over your shoulder, not quite touching yet. "Talk to me. Scale of one to ten."

"Eight" you managed. "Maybe nine."

He swore, quiet, vicious and finally touched you. Palm flat against your back. Even through your hoodie the contact felt like ice on fire. You whimpered and arched into it without meaning to.

"Okay" he said, more to himself than you. "Okay. I’ve got you."

He scooped you up like you weighed nothing; beta strength wasn’t alpha bulk, but it was steady, precise, reliable. He carried you to the bedroom you’d started calling "ours" even though neither of you had said the word mate out loud yet.

The bed was already half-nested: your favorite weighted blanket dragged from the closet, two of his hoodies balled up at the headboard, the spare pillow he always used because it smelled like rain after he slept on it. You’d done it yesterday without thinking. Instinct. He noticed now and his throat clicked when he swallowed.

He laid you down gently. Didn’t pull away. Instead he kicked off his socks, shrugged out of his sweater so he was in only a thin black t-shirt and climbed onto the bed behind you. Big spoon. Arms around your waist. Chest pressed to your back. His scent flooded the space immediately: cool stone, wet metal, petrichor so thick it almost felt like breathing underwater.

"Breathe with me" he murmured against your nape. "In for four. Hold. Out for six."

You tried. Failed. Another cramp ripped through you and you curled tighter, a broken sound escaping your throat. He didn’t flinch. Just tightened his hold and pressed his lips to the back of your neck, soft. No teeth. No claim. Just steady pressure.

"I pulled your file again last night" he said quietly. Conversationally. Like this was normal pillow talk. "The original loan docs. The ones my father signed off on before I even knew your name existed."

You tensed.

"Relax" he soothed, thumb stroking slow circles over your hip. "I’m not telling you this to scare you. I’m telling you because I found the clause. The acceleration clause buried on page seventeen. One missed payment, any payment and they can demand the full principal plus penalties. Your mother missed November because of hospital bills. They never told you. They just… waited. Like vultures."

Tears burned behind your eyes.

"I can make it disappear" he continued. Voice low. Steady. "All of it. Tomorrow morning if you say yes. Wire transfer. Debt forgiveness. Backdated. No trace. My legal team already has the draft. I just need your word."

You shook your head. Or tried to. The movement turned into a shudder instead.

"There’s always a catch" you whispered. "With chaebols. There’s always-"

"No catch." He turned you in his arms so you were facing him. Forehead to forehead. "I swear on everything I actually care about, which isn’t much, but it includes you, I’m not asking for money. I’m not asking for your body. I’m not even asking you to love me back the way the movies say you should."

"Then what?" Your voice cracked.

He exhaled. Long. Shaky. "I’m asking you to let me stay." His thumb brushed the tear that escaped down your cheek. "Not as the Choi heir. Not as some savior complex beta with too much money and too little sense. Just… me. The idiot who’s been showing up at your café for six months straight because your scent is the only thing that makes the boardroom screaming in my head go quiet. The idiot who can’t sleep unless he knows you ate something that wasn’t instant noodles. The idiot who’s terrified that if I don’t do this, if I don’t at least try to lift this weight off you, you’ll disappear one day. And I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering if I could have stopped it."

Your breath hitched.

He kept going, words spilling faster now. "I know I’m beta. I know I can’t knot you. I know I can’t give you the feral, possessive claim an alpha could. But I can stay. Through every heat. Through every all-nighter. Through every time your body decides it hates you. I can hold you. I can bring ice packs and bad convenience-store ramyeon and stupid rom-coms you pretend not to like. I can make sure you never have to choose between medicine and rent again. And maybe (maybe) if you let me, someday I can give you the quiet kind of mark. Not teeth in your neck for the world to see. Just… something small. Something ours. So every alpha on campus knows you’re safe. So you know you’re safe."

Another cramp. You whimpered and buried your face in his throat. He held you tighter. "Say no" he whispered. "Say no and I’ll call my family’s private physician. I’ll stay in the living room. I’ll bring suppressants. I’ll leave when it’s over. No pressure. No guilt. Just tell me what you need."

You stayed silent for a long minute. Then you tilted your head back. Enough to meet his eyes.

"I need you to stay" you said. Voice small. Raw. "Here. With me. Not in the living room."

His exhale was almost a groan. "Okay" he breathed. "Okay."

He kissed you then, slow. Deep. Not hungry yet. Just… grounding. His tongue traced the seam of your lips until you opened for him. When you did he groaned into your mouth like the taste of you was oxygen after drowning.

Hands moved. Yours under his shirt. Nails dragging lightly down the lean muscles of his back. His sliding up your spine, under your hoodie, palms hot against fevered skin.

He broke the kiss only to tug your hoodie over your head. Then your bra. Then he paused, eyes raking over you like he was memorizing every inch.

"Beautiful" he murmured. "So fucking beautiful."

You reached for his shirt. He helped you pull it off. Skin to skin now. His chest cool against your overheated one. You pressed closer, seeking relief.

He gave it. Mouth on your throat. Open kisses. No teeth. Just suction. Just warmth. Down to your collarbone. Lower. When his lips closed around one nipple you arched with a cry. He sucked gently, then harder when you threaded fingers in his hair and pulled.

"Gyu-"

He hummed against your skin. The vibration went straight between your legs. He kissed his way lower. Stomach. Hips. When he reached the waistband of your shorts he looked up, asking. You nodded frantically. He peeled them off. Panties too. The cool air hit slick-soaked skin and you whimpered.

He settled between your thighs. Not rushing. Just… looking. Breathing you in.

"Smell so good" he muttered. "Like summer. Like home."

Then his mouth was on you. No teasing. No slow build. Just flat tongue dragging from entrance to clit in one long, firm stroke. You keened. Back bowed. He pinned your hips with both hands and did it again. And again. Until you were writhing, babbling his name, thighs shaking around his ears.

When you came it was sudden, white-hot, blinding. You sobbed through it. He didn’t stop. Just gentled his tongue, lapping softly until the aftershocks faded. Then he crawled back up. Kissed you so you could taste yourself on him.

"More?" he asked against your lips.

You nodded. Tears on your cheeks now, not from pain. From relief. From him.

He shed his trousers. Boxers. Settled between your legs again. Hard length sliding through your folds, coating himself in you.

"No knot" he reminded you. Voice rough. "But I’ll stay deep. I’ll stay until you tell me to stop."

You wrapped your legs around him. "Please."

He pushed in. Slow. So slow you felt every centimeter. Every vein. Every ridge. When he bottomed out you both froze, breathing hard. Foreheads pressed together.

"Fuck" he hissed. "You’re...god, baby, you’re perfect."

Then he moved. Deep, rolling thrusts. Not fast. Not brutal. Just steady. Relentless. Hitting that spot inside you over and over until your vision blurred. You clawed at his back. He groaned. Dropped his head to your shoulder. Lips brushing the soft skin over your mating gland.

"Want to bite" he panted. "Want to mark you so bad. But only if-"

"Yes" you gasped. "Please. Quiet one. Just yours."

He shuddered. Teeth grazed. Then sank. Not deep. Not scarring. Just enough to break skin. Just enough for his scent to flood the wound, cool rain soaking into peony petals. Permanent in the way that mattered.

The moment the bite locked you came again, harder. Body locking around him. Milking. Pulling.

He followed with a broken moan. Hot pulses inside you. Filling. Overflowing. He didn’t pull out. Just rolled so you were on his chest. Still connected. His arms caging you. Tongue lapping gently at the fresh bite.

"So mine" he whispered. Voice wrecked. Reverent. "Finally mine."

You nosed under his jaw. Scented the metal edge that always sharpened when he was emotional.

"Yours" you agreed. "And you’re mine."

He laughed, soft. Shaky.

"Best thing I ever bought" he murmured. "Even if it cost me three billion won and six months of restraint."

You smiled against his throat. "Worth it?"

He kissed the top of your head. "Every won. Every second."

The heat still simmered. Would for days. But for the first time in your life it didn’t feel like drowning. It felt like coming home.

One week after the bite.

The mark on your throat had already begun to settle. Not raised or angry like the brutal claiming scars alphas sometimes left on omegas in heat-crazed rages. Just a thin, pale crescent, barely two centimeters long, nestled in the soft hollow where neck met shoulder. In daylight it looked almost like a delicate piece of jewelry someone had forgotten to remove. Under moonlight, or when your pulse raced, it shimmered with the faintest metallic sheen: his scent baked permanently into the tissue. Cool rain on stone. Steel left out overnight. Petrichor that never quite faded.

You caught yourself touching it constantly. In lecture halls, fingertips brushing the collar of your turtleneck. In the mirror before class, tilting your head to watch how the light caught the faint scar. In the middle of the night when you woke tangled in Beomgyu’s arms, you would press two fingers to the mark and feel your heartbeat sync with his, slow, steady, impossibly calm.

The debt was gone. He hadn’t made a ceremony of it. No dramatic meeting with lawyers in glass-walled offices. No press release. Just a single notification on your banking app at 8:14 am the morning after your heat broke: Balance: ₩0.00, Status: Fully Satisfied & Closed, Reference: Internal Transfer: Choi Financial Group VIP.

You’d stared at the screen until it timed out and went black. Then you’d cried, quiet, ugly sobs into the pillow so you wouldn’t wake him. Not from relief alone. From the sudden, terrifying absence of something that had defined your every waking hour for years. Without the monthly payment looming, without the constant mental subtraction of every won spent, you didn’t know who you were supposed to be anymore.

Beomgyu had found you like that. He hadn’t asked questions. Just pulled you into his lap on the living-room floor, back to his chest, chin hooked over your shoulder, and let you shake apart until there was nothing left to cry out. When the sobs finally quieted he kissed the fresh mark once, soft, reverent and whispered against your skin: "You’re still you. Just… freer."

You believed him. Mostly.

The apartment felt different after that. Not because anything had materially changed, the furniture was the same mid-century-modern pieces he’d chosen when he first signed the lease in your name, the fridge still stocked with too much fruit because he insisted you needed vitamins, the weighted blanket still smelled like both of you but because the air held less fear. Your scent bloomed easier now. Not uncontrolled, not leaking in panic, but deliberate. You let peonies unfurl when he walked through the door after late classes or board meetings. You let honey-sweet warmth curl around him when he pulled you close on the couch to watch whatever terrible drama was trending that week.

He noticed every time. His own scent sharpened in response: metal warming, rain thickening into something almost possessive. Beta restraint still held him back from growling or posturing, but the edges of him got… hungrier. His hands lingered longer on your waist. His kisses turned slower, deeper, like he was trying to memorize the exact shape of your mouth. When you straddled his lap during study breaks he would groan low in his throat, not an alpha command, just pure want and press his forehead to yours until both of you were breathing the same air.

You started calling him Gyu. Not in public. Not yet. But in the quiet spaces, when he was half-asleep with his head in your lap, when he was stirring ramyeon at 2 am because your stomach growled too loudly to ignore, when he was tracing the bite scar with his thumb like it was the most precious thing he’d ever touched.

"Gyu" you’d murmur and watch his pupils dilate, watch the silver rings on his fingers catch the light as his hands flexed like he was physically restraining himself from pulling you under him right there.

He never rushed. Never pushed past the invisible line you’d both silently agreed on after your heat: slow. Dates. Normal things. The kind of courtship alphas rarely bothered with because they could simply knot and claim and call it fate.

So he took you to the Han River at dusk when the cherry blossoms were just starting to bud early because of the weird weather. You sat on a blanket he’d packed: cashmere, of course, with convenience-store kimbap and too-sweet iced coffee because he remembered your order from the café days. You watched couples walk past: alphas with arms slung possessively around omegas, betas holding hands like it was nothing, everyone pretending the hierarchical tension didn’t exist under the surface.

He didn’t touch you like that in public. Just brushed pinkies when you walked. Let you lean into his shoulder when the wind picked up. Once, when a drunk alpha group passed too close and one of them inhaled too obviously in your direction, Beomgyu simply stepped half in front of you, casual, unthreatening and let his beta scent roll out: cold steel, immovable. The alphas blinked, muttered apologies and kept walking.

You’d stared at him after. "You didn’t even growl."

"Don’t need to." He shrugged. "Sometimes quiet works better."

You believed him.

In April, you had your first real fight. It started small. He’d come home late, past midnight, from a strategy session with his father’s inner circle. You’d waited up with cold jjajangmyeon and a half-finished spreadsheet for your capstone project. When he walked in he looked wrecked: tie loosened, top two buttons undone, dark circles under his eyes that makeup couldn’t hide anymore.

You’d stood up to hug him. He’d flinched. Not away. Just… tensed. Like touch was suddenly too much.

You froze. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing." He forced a smile. "Just tired."

You didn’t buy it. "Gyu."

He sighed. Dropped his bag. Ran both hands through his hair. "They want me to announce an engagement timeline. Next board meeting. Some daughter of a shipping conglomerate. Purely political. They don’t even care that I’m beta, they just want the optics. Stable heir. Traditional values. Bullshit."

Your stomach dropped. "And you said…?"

"I said no." His voice cracked on the word. "I said I’m already spoken for. They laughed. Told me betas don’t get to make those kinds of declarations. Told me to grow up."

You felt sick. He looked at you then, really looked. "I’m not going to do it" he said quietly. "I’m not going to marry anyone else. But they’re not going to stop pushing. Not until there’s a public claim. Or until I walk away from the company entirely."

You swallowed. "You can’t walk away. That’s your whole-"

"I can." He stepped closer. "If it means keeping you. I can."

The room felt too small. You backed up until your thighs hit the kitchen counter.

"Gyu… I’m still studying. I’m still… nobody. If you burn your life down for me-"

"I’m not burning anything." His hands framed your face. Gentle. Steady. "I’m choosing. For once in my fucking life, I’m choosing something that isn’t written in a contract or decided in a boardroom."

Tears burned. He kissed them away. Then he kissed you properly: deep, desperate, like he was trying to prove something with his tongue and teeth and the way his body pressed you back against the cabinets.

You ended up on the floor. Not graceful. Not planned. Just clothes half-pulled off, your back to the cool hardwood, his mouth everywhere: throat, collarbone, the fresh mark that still made you shiver when he licked it. He didn’t push inside. Not yet. Just ground against you through the last layers of fabric until you were both panting, shaking, chasing friction like teenagers who didn’t know better.

When you came it was with his name on your lips and his teeth grazing the bite again, not breaking skin, just reminding. He followed a second later, groaning into your neck, hips stuttering.

Afterward you stayed there, sprawled on the kitchen floor, his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair.

"I’m not asking you to decide tonight" he murmured. "Or tomorrow. Or next month. But when you’re ready… when you want forever, not just right now… tell me. I’ll give you the quietest, most boring, most permanent claim this city has ever seen. No fanfare. No announcement. Just you wearing my scent so deep no one else will ever get close."

You pressed your lips to his temple. "Promise you won’t disappear if I take too long?"

He laughed, soft, tired. "I’ve been showing up at your café for almost seven months straight. I’m not going anywhere."

You believed him.

The rest of spring passed in fragments of normalcy. Study dates in the apartment, him quizzing you on corporate governance while you braided tiny sections of his hair because it kept falling into his eyes. Late-night convenience-store runs when your suppressants ran low (he still bought the expensive ones even though the bite made them less necessary). Picnics by the river. Movie marathons where he pretended to hate the rom-coms and then quoted them back to you weeks later.

In May you had your last final. You walked out of the exam hall at 4:47 pm feeling lighter than you had in years.

He was waiting outside. Black hoodie. Mask pulled down. Two iced Americanos in hand. You took one. Sipped. Smiled.

"Celebratory coffee?"

"Celebratory everything." He offered his free hand.

You took it. He led you across campus, past the business school, past the library where you used to hide during lunch because you couldn’t afford the cafeteria, past the café where it all started. He stopped at the small grove of cherry trees near the main gate. Petals were falling like slow snow even though it was already past peak bloom.

He turned to face you. "I have something for you."

You raised an eyebrow. He reached into his pocket. Pulled out a thin silver chain, simple, elegant, no pendant. Just the chain. You frowned. Then he unclasped it. On the end was a tiny silver ring. Plain band. Inside, engraved in the smallest hangul: 내 것 (yours / mine)

He lifted it to your throat. Slipped it over your head so the ring rested exactly over the bite scar.

"Not a collar" he said quietly. "Not a claim for the world to see. Just… something that sits where I marked you. So when you’re in class, or at interviews, or anywhere, you can feel it. Feel me."

Tears welled again. You swallowed them down. "Gyu..."

He waited. You stepped closer. Pressed your forehead to his.

"Forever" you whispered. "I want forever."

His exhale was shaky. Then he kissed you, slow, sweet, tasting like coffee and rain and promises. When he pulled back his eyes were wet too. "Best investment I ever made" he murmured.

You laughed through tears. "Shut up and kiss me again, chaebol."

He did. Under falling petals. In the middle of campus where anyone could see. For once, neither of you cared.

April.

Spring had finally decided to behave. The cherry blossoms had come and gone in their usual frantic two-week spectacle, leaving behind pale-pink drifts along every sidewalk like expensive confetti no one bothered to sweep. Seoul felt softer in the aftermath, less aggressive, less urgent. Even the air carried less exhaust and more green. You noticed these things now. Small details. The way sunlight slanted through the apartment windows at 7:14 am and painted gold stripes across Beomgyu’s bare back while he slept. The way the refrigerator hummed a half-step lower when it was full of actual groceries instead of expired yogurt and half-eaten ramyeon cups. The way your own breathing sounded different when you woke up without the ghost of a payment deadline sitting on your chest.

You were twenty-three days past the bite and sixteen days past graduation. The diploma sat unopened on the dining table because neither of you had found the right moment to frame it. Beomgyu kept threatening to hang it above the bed "so you remember you’re smarter than half the boardroom idiots I deal with" but every time he reached for the hammer he ended up kissing you against the wall instead.

Routine had settled in the way good things sometimes do, quietly, without fanfare.

He left most mornings at 6:45 am for the head office in Gangnam. Black suit, silver cufflinks, hair still damp from the shower. You kissed him at the door every time, slow and sleepy, fingers curled in his tie until he groaned and promised to be home by eight. He usually wasn’t. Board meetings ran long. Strategy sessions turned into power plays. His father: Chairman Choi, though Beomgyu rarely called him anything but "the old man" these days, kept pushing the engagement narrative like it was a quarterly KPI that needed hitting.

Beomgyu never raised his voice about it. Never came home angry. Just… quieter. The metal note in his scent sharpened on those nights. Cold steel instead of warm rain. You learned to read it the way you used to read storm clouds when you were a kid: time to close windows, time to bring in the laundry.

Tonight was one of those nights. He walked through the door at 10:37 pm. You were on the couch in one of his old university hoodies, oversized, faded navy, sleeves rolled four times so your hands could actually emerge. The television was on mute, some cooking show you weren’t really watching. Two mugs of chamomile tea sat cooling on the coffee table. One for you. One waiting.

He kicked off his shoes, hung his coat, loosened his tie in one fluid motion. When he saw you he paused, shoulders dropping half a centimeter, the way they always did when he crossed the threshold and remembered he didn’t have to perform here.

"Hi" he said. Voice rough from too much talking.

"Hi." You patted the cushion beside you.

He crossed the room in three strides and dropped onto the couch like gravity had finally won. Head tipped back. Eyes closed. One long exhale.

You didn’t speak right away. Just shifted until your thigh pressed against his, until you could rest your head on his shoulder and let your scent bloom deliberately: soft peonies, warm honey, no suppressants needed anymore. The bite had changed that. Your heats still came, still demanded, but they arrived gentler now. Predictable. Manageable. Mostly because he was there every time, steady as stone.

After a minute he turned his face into your hair. Inhaled. The steel in his scent thawed, just a little. "They brought her up again" he murmured. "The shipping heiress. Showed me photos this time. Like I was picking out a new car."

You stayed quiet. Let him talk.

"She’s nice. Probably. Harvard MBA. Speaks four languages. Smiles for cameras like she was born doing it." He laughed once, hollow. "They had a whole slide deck. Merger synergies. Stock price impact. Public perception metrics. My father called it ‘strategic alignment.’ I called it a fucking auction."

You lifted your head. Met his eyes. "Did you walk out?"

"No." His thumb found the silver chain around your throat, the one with the tiny ring that rested exactly over the bite scar. He toyed with it absently. "I stayed. Smiled. Nodded when appropriate. Then I told them the merger was off the table unless they wanted to explain to the shareholders why their golden-beta heir was suddenly unavailable for matrimonial photo ops."

A beat.

"They didn’t like that." You could imagine.

He sighed. "I’m not going to do it, baby. I told you that. But they’re getting louder. The board’s restless. Succession planning is apparently more important than quarterly earnings this quarter."

You turned until you were half in his lap, knees bracketing his hips. Hands on his shoulders.

"Then let them be restless."

His hands settled on your waist, automatic. Familiar.

"It’s not that simple."

"It could be."

He looked at you, really looked. Dark eyes tired but clear.

"You want me to burn it all down?"

"No." You cupped his face. Thumbs brushing the faint shadows under his eyes. "I want you to stop letting them define what your life looks like. You’re twenty-four. You’re allowed to want things that aren’t written in a five-year plan."

He exhaled through his nose and leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours. "I want you" he said simply. "Every version. The barista version. The exhausted student version. The graduated-and-still-panicking-about-the-future version. The version who steals my hoodies and makes me chamomile tea even though I pretend I hate herbal anything."

You smiled against his mouth. "I know."

"I want forever with you" he continued. Voice dropping. "Not in theory. Not when the timing’s convenient. Now. Tomorrow. Ten years from now when you’re running your own firm and I’m retired to bothering you in your office every afternoon with takeout."

Your heart did the stupid flip it always did when he talked like this, open, unguarded, no filter.

"Then take it" you whispered. "Forever. I already said yes."

He kissed you then: slow, deep, tasting faintly of the mints he chewed during long meetings. Hands sliding under the hoodie to find bare skin. Warm palms against your ribs. You arched into the touch without thinking.

Clothes came off in pieces. Hoodie over your head. His shirt unbuttoned with shaking fingers. Trousers shoved down just enough. You ended up straddling him on the couch, knees sinking into cushions, his hands guiding your hips in slow, rolling circles that made you both gasp. No rush. Never rush with him. He kissed the bite scar like it was holy ground. Tongue tracing the crescent. Teeth grazing just enough to spark pleasure-pain. You whimpered and rocked harder against him, already slick, already aching.

"Gyu…"

He groaned at the nickname. Hands tightening on your waist. "Say it again."

"Gyu-ya." You leaned down, lips brushing his ear. "My boyfriend."

He shuddered. Lifted you just enough to line himself up. Then guided you down: slow, careful, letting you feel every inch until he was seated fully inside and you both froze, breathing hard.

"Fuck" he breathed. "You feel-"

"Like home" you finished for him.

His laugh was shaky. "Yeah. Exactly like that."

He moved then, shallow thrusts at first, letting you set the pace. You rode him slow, deliberate, savoring the drag, the stretch, the way he hit that spot inside you every time you rolled your hips just right. His hands roamed: breasts, waist, ass worshipful. Never demanding.

When your thighs started to shake he took over, hands on your hips, guiding you faster, deeper. Head tipped back against the couch. Throat working. Lips parted on soft curses and your name.

You came first, quiet, intense, body locking around him as waves rolled through you. He followed seconds later: deep pulses, low groan, arms banding around your back to hold you close while he spilled inside.

You stayed like that a long time. Connected. Breathing together. His heartbeat under your palm. Yours under his.

Eventually he shifted you both, still inside you, until you were lying chest-to-chest on the couch, legs tangled, hoodie pulled over both of you like a blanket.

"I have an idea" he murmured against your hair.

You hummed. Too blissed-out for full sentences.

"Let’s get out of the city. Weekend. Just us. No board. No merger talks. No one who knows my last name."

You lifted your head. "Where?"

"Jeju. In a small villa with an ocean view. No staff. I’ll cook."

"You can’t cook."

"I can make toast. And order room service. Close enough."

You laughed softly and kissed the corner of his mouth. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. Let’s run away for a weekend."

He smiled, small, real, the one that crinkled his eyes and made your chest ache.

"Best idea I’ve had all year."

The next morning he booked it.

Friday afternoon you were on a flight, first class because of course he’d insisted, even though you’d rolled your eyes and called him ridiculous. He just kissed your temple and said, “Let me spoil you. Please."

The villa was small by chaebol standards: white walls, glass everywhere, infinity pool overlooking black volcanic rock and endless blue. No butler. No chef. Just a stocked fridge, clean sheets and silence.

You spent the first day sleeping. Actual sleep. Deep, dreamless, the kind you hadn’t had since before the loans started piling up. He curled around you like a shield, one arm over your waist, nose buried in your neck, breathing slow against the bite scar.

Saturday you walked the beach at dawn. Bare feet in cold sand. His hoodie swallowing you whole. He held your hand the entire time, thumb stroking over your knuckles, silver rings cool against your skin.

You found a tide pool full of tiny crabs and watched them scuttle. You laughed when one pinched his finger and he yelped like a child.

Sunday afternoon it rained. You stayed inside, cooked together: ramyeon upgraded with eggs and kimchi because that was the extent of both your culinary talents, watched the storm through floor-to-ceiling windows, made love on the rug in front of the fireplace: slow again, reverent, his hands mapping every inch of you like he was still learning the territory even after months.

Afterward you lay on your sides facing each other. Rain drumming on the glass. Firelight painting gold across his cheekbones.

"I want to tell people" he said quietly.

You blinked. "About us?"

"Yeah." His fingers traced the chain around your throat. "Not the tabloids. Not yet. But my mother. My sister. The few friends who aren’t just business contacts. I want them to know I’m yours. Officially. No hiding."

Your heart squeezed. "And if the board finds out?"

"Let them." His voice hardened just a fraction. "I’m done pretending I’m available for auction. I’m done letting them think beta means neutral means obedient. I’m yours. That’s the only alignment that matters."

Tears pricked. He brushed them away with his thumb.

"I’m not asking for a public announcement. Not asking you to stand in front of cameras. Just… let me tell the people who matter that I found someone worth more than any merger."

You swallowed and nodded. "Okay."

He kissed you, soft. Sweet. Tasting like salt and rain and promises.

Monday morning you flew back. He dropped you at the apartment first: kissed you stupid in the elevator, then went straight to the family estate in Hannam-dong.

You didn’t ask what he said.

He came home at 7:12 pm with takeout japchae and a small velvet box. Inside: a second ring. Thinner than the one on your chain. Plain platinum. Same engraving inside. He slipped it on your left ring finger. Fourth finger. Traditional placement. Not an engagement ring. Not yet. Just… a promise.

"No pressure" he murmured. "No timeline. Just so you know I’m serious. Every day. Every hour."

You stared at the ring. Simple. Perfect. Then you looked up at him: Choi Beomgyu, heir to one of the largest conglomerates in Asia, beta in a world that worshipped alphas, the man who’d paid off three billion won in debt without ever asking for repayment in anything but your time.

You kissed him. Hard.

He laughed against your mouth then lifted you onto the kitchen counter. Hands everywhere.

You spent the rest of the night proving, without words, that you were just as serious.

The calendar on the kitchen wall still showed February. Neither of you had bothered flipping it forward. Time had started feeling elastic since the bite, days stretching long and lazy when you were tangled together, snapping back cruelly whenever Beomgyu had to leave for another meeting that smelled like polished mahogany and veiled threats.

You woke at 4:17 am to the first real warning cramp. It wasn’t the slow, teasing build-up you’d grown used to over the last year. This was sudden, violent, like someone had flipped a switch in your endocrine system and cranked the dial to eleven. Heat bloomed low in your belly, sharp and insistent, spreading outward in radiating waves that left your thighs trembling before your eyes were even fully open.

You gasped: quiet, involuntary and curled tighter against Beomgyu’s back.

He woke instantly. Beta instincts might lack the feral edge of alphas, but months of reading you like quarterly reports had made him hypersensitive to every shift in your breathing, every tiny hitch in your scent. He rolled in one fluid motion, arm already sliding around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest even as his free hand pressed flat against your lower stomach.

"Baby" he rasped, voice thick with sleep and sudden alertness. "How bad?"

You couldn’t answer right away. Another cramp rolled through and you arched, a broken whimper escaping before you could swallow it. Slick was already soaking through the thin cotton of your sleep shorts, warm and insistent against his thigh where it pressed between yours.

"Ten" you managed. "Maybe more."

He swore, low, vicious, the kind of curse he only let slip when he was truly rattled. His palm rubbed slow circles over your abdomen, trying to ease the tension, but the touch only made you press back harder, seeking friction, seeking him.

"Okay. Okay." He kissed the nape of your neck, once, twice, then gently disentangled long enough to reach for the nightstand lamp. Soft golden light spilled across the sheets. He took one look at you: flushed cheeks, pupils blown, lips parted on shallow pants and his own breathing stuttered.

"You’re burning early" he murmured, almost to himself. "We thought we had another six weeks at least."

You shook your head. "Body doesn’t care about calendars."

He exhaled through his nose. Then he moved, efficient, careful, the way he always was when your biology decided to override everything else.

First he stripped the damp shorts and panties away, tossing them toward the hamper without looking. Then he shed his own boxers. Naked skin met naked skin and you both hissed at the contact, his coolness against your fever heat like rain on scorched earth.

He settled behind you again, spooning tight. One arm banded around your ribs just under your breasts. The other slid between your thighs from behind, fingers parting slick folds with devastating gentleness.

"Tell me if it’s too much" he whispered against your ear. "Anytime. I stop."

You nodded frantically. "Don’t stop. Please don’t stop."

He didn’t. Two fingers slipped inside, slow, testing and your back bowed with a keening sound you barely recognized as your own. He curled them immediately, finding that spot that made your vision turn white, stroking in the exact rhythm he’d learned made you sob his name.

"Good girl" he breathed. "So wet already. So ready for me."

You clenched around his fingers on purpose. He groaned, low, wrecked and pressed his forehead to the back of your shoulder.

"Fuck. You’re gonna kill me like this."

"Then die happy" you gasped.

He laughed and added a third finger, stretching you further, preparing you even though you both knew you didn’t really need it. Not when your body was already begging, already dripping down his wrist.

When your thighs started shaking he withdrew his hand. You whined at the loss but he was already shifting, guiding your top leg up and over his so you were open, exposed, back still pressed to his chest.

He notched himself at your entrance. Paused. "Look at me" he said softly.

You twisted your neck just enough to meet his eyes over your shoulder. Dark. Blown. The silver ring on your left hand caught the lamplight as you reached back to thread fingers in his hair.

"I love you" he said. Simple. Steady. Like it was the most obvious fact in the universe.

Tears pricked instantly. "I love you too" you whispered.

Only then did he push inside. Slow. So slow you felt every ridge, every vein, every deliberate inch until his hips pressed flush to your ass and he was buried to the hilt. You both froze, breathing hard, trembling, savoring the stretch, the fullness, the impossible rightness of it.

"God" he hissed against your throat. "You feel...fuck, baby, you always feel like this?"

"Like what?" you managed.

"Like mine."

You chuckled and clenched around him again.

He groaned. Deep. Animal. Then he started moving. Not fast. Not brutal. Just deep, rolling thrusts that dragged against every sensitive place inside you, building pressure slow and merciless. His hand slid up to cup your breast, thumb circling your nipple in time with his hips. The other hand found your clit: gentle circles, feather-light at first, then firmer when your moans turned desperate.

You came like that: spooned tight against him, his cock buried deep, his fingers relentless on your clit, quiet at first, then shattering into sobs as pleasure ripped through you in white-hot waves. Your body locked around him, milking, pulling and he swore again, hips stuttering but not stopping.

"Again" he panted. "Give me another one. I want to feel you come on my cock twice before I lose it."

You whimpered. Oversensitive. Already climbing again.

He shifted angles, just a fraction and the new drag against your front wall made you see stars.

"Gyu...Gyu please..."

"I’ve got you" he promised. Voice wrecked. "Always got you."

He fucked you through the second orgasm, deeper now, harder, chasing his own edge while drawing yours out until you were shaking, tears streaming, begging incoherently.

When it hit you moaned, muffled against the pillow and he finally let himself follow.

He came with a broken moan against your neck, hips grinding deep, pulsing hot and thick inside you until it leaked out around him, slick and obscene. He didn’t pull out. Just stayed buried, arms banding tighter, holding you through the aftershocks.

Minutes passed. Maybe longer. Time blurred.

Eventually he eased out, slow, careful and rolled you to face him. You whimpered at the emptiness, but he kissed it away: soft, languid, tasting like salt and love.

"Still burning?" he asked quietly.

You nodded. "Not as bad. But… still."

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. Then your nose. Then your mouth.

"Bathroom" he said. "Shower. Then nest. Then round two if you need it."

You let him carry you, legs too shaky to walk, into the ensuite. He ran the shower warm, not hot and stepped under the spray with you still cradled against his chest. Water sluiced over both of you. He washed your hair first, gentle fingers massaging your scalp until you purred against his throat. Then your body, slow, reverent, soaping every inch like you were something precious. When he knelt to wash between your thighs you shivered, oversensitive, but he was careful, only cleaning, no teasing.

You returned the favor. Washed his hair. Traced the lean lines of his back with soapy hands. Kissed the faint scar on his shoulder from a childhood bike accident he never talked about.

Clean. Warm. Wrapped in towels.

Back in the bedroom he rebuilt the nest without asking, dragging every soft thing into the center of the bed: weighted blanket, your favorite throw, three of his hoodies, the cashmere scarf he’d bought you in Jeju last month. You crawled into the middle and pulled him down with you.

He settled between your thighs again, this time face-to-face, slow and lazy. No words for a while. Just kissing. Deep. Filthy. His tongue tracing every corner of your mouth like he was mapping new territory. When he finally slid back inside it was easy, your body already soft and open and wanting.

This time he fucked you slow. Aching. Every thrust measured. Every withdrawal torturous. He kept his eyes on yours the entire time: dark, intense, never looking away even when your vision blurred with tears of pleasure.

"Want to mark you again" he rasped after the third slow orgasm left you trembling. "Deeper this time. Permanent. Visible only to us."

Your breath hitched.

The first bite had been quiet, subtle, hidden under collars and hair. Enough to carry his scent forever, but discreet. Respectful of the world you both still had to navigate. This felt different. You tilted your head back. Offered your throat fully.

"Do it" you whispered. "Make it ours."

He shuddered, lowered his head. Lips first: soft kisses over the existing scar. Then tongue: slow laps that made you arch. Then teeth grazing. Testing.

"Last chance to say no."

"Never" you breathed.

He sank them in. Deeper this time. Not the brutal tear of an alpha claiming, but deliberate, breaking skin cleanly, letting his scent flood the wound, letting the bond sink permanent. Pain flared bright for one heartbeat, then melted into liquid heat as endorphins crashed through you.

You came instantly: hard, sudden, body seizing around him. He groaned against your throat, muffled, primal and followed, hips grinding deep as he spilled again, marking you from the inside while his teeth marked you from the outside.

When he finally released the bite he licked it slow in long, soothing strokes that turned the sting into pleasure. The wound would scar again, but thicker this time. A proper mating mark. Quiet. Elegant. Unmistakable to anyone who knew what to look for.

He kissed it once more. Then your mouth. Then every inch of your face: eyelids, cheeks, nose, like he was trying to imprint himself everywhere.

"So mine" he whispered. Voice cracked. Reverent.

"Yeah, yours" you agreed. Fingers in his hair. Legs locked around his waist. "Always."

He stayed inside you until the heat finally ebbed, hours later, until your body cooled and your breathing evened and exhaustion pulled you both under.

When you woke again it was late morning. Sunlight slanted through half-closed blinds. Beomgyu was still half on top of you, face buried in your neck, one hand splayed possessively over the fresh mark.

You traced the shell of his ear. Felt him smile against your skin.

"Morning" he mumbled.

"Afternoon, probably."

He hummed. Kissed the mark once more, soft, careful.

"Worth the early heat?"

You laughed. "Every second."

He lifted his head, looked at you, really looked.

"I’m calling in sick tomorrow. And the day after. Maybe the rest of the week."

You raised an eyebrow. "The board will riot."

"Let them." He kissed the tip of your nose. "I’ve spent twenty-four years being their perfect beta heir. I’m taking a week to be your perfect mate instead."

Your heart squeezed so hard it hurt. "Gyu..."

He silenced you with another kiss, slow, deep, tasting like promise.

"We’ll figure out the rest later" he murmured against your lips. "The company. The merger pressure. The public. All of it. Later."

You nodded and threaded fingers through his. "Later."

For now there was only this: sunlight on skin, his scent wrapped around yours, the fresh mark throbbing gently under his thumb, the quiet certainty that whatever storm came next, you would face it together.

Outside Seoul kept moving: boardrooms, headlines, expectations.

Inside, two people who had rewritten every rule stayed tangled in soft sheets, breathing each other in, learning the shape of forever one slow heartbeat at a time.

[theghostofgyu]

𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠

suddenly, seeing you right there, beomgyu decided he was feeling a little more reckless today. he waited until you were within reach, his fingers catching your wrist with a firm, lingering tug. he pulled you toward him, breaking every record for the shortest distance between you. “you’re quick to reply over text, but you always seem to be running away from me in person” he murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked down at you. the rest of the crowd dispersed, with two or three people throwing curious glances your way. “something wrong?”

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟏 , 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟐, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟑

pairing: beomgyu x f!reader

genre/tags: romance, slowburn, fated mates, abo dynamics, alpha!beomgyu, omega!reader, college au, rock band au, emo!!!beomgyu, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, late omega presentation, hurt/comfort, mutual nervousness.

warnings: suggestive, emotional distress, identity crisis, anxiety, family trauma (referenced), omegaverse dynamics.

wc: 9.419

author's note: this one turned out almost 10k im so sorry jdfjsdofjosjf i just wanted to say i had a lot of fun writing this one and i will be having even more fun in the next ones because i'll finally be be able to let all my evil out💋hope yall like it friends!!! let me know if you spot any mistakes please

“junnnn” beomgyu called out, the little bell hanging on the door announcing his entrance into the store. “it’s me!”

“me who?” yeonjun replied from somewhere in the distance, probably playing dumb, his voice muffled by the loud music blasting through the store speakers.

“gyuuu” beomgyu answered, in a deliberately silly, syrupy tone.

“come over, i’m here” the older one replied, from somewhere.

“here where?” beomgyu shot back in disbelief, his eyes darting around the establishment. it wasn't a small space, yet it felt claustrophobic. suffocated by endless rows of racks and hangers packed with clothes. mannequins, mirrors, and boxes piled high in every corner turned the alternative clothing store into a cluttered, fashion maze.

“here!” yeonjun insisted stubbornly.

beomgyu sighed, admitting defeat and starting to follow the voice through the rows of mostly dark-toned clothes. the smell of new fabric invaded his nostrils as he moved further inside.

“do you usually leave the music this loud?” the alpha asked, finally finding the beta crouched on the floor after turning down a few hanger-filled aisles.

“only when i’m already closing up and don’t want to hear any clueless person who can’t read the ‘CLOSED’ sign walking in” yeonjun replied, briefly grabbing his phone from beside him to lower the volume.

“has kai arrived yet?” beomgyu asked, watching yeonjun return to his previous task. he seemed particularly focused on labeling a few shoeboxes according to their sizes.

“no. he texted about ten minutes ago saying he was leaving work,” the blonde answered.

“so kai is late and i’m not” beomgyu grinned mischievously, adjusting the strap of the guitar bag hanging from his left shoulder.

“even a broken clock is right twice a day, i suppose” yeonjun replied. “if you want, you can start setting your stuff up in the back already. i’m almost done here.”

beomgyu considered the idea for a few seconds.

“ooor…” yeonjun added, “you could pull that little stool over and watch your miserable friend work after business hours.” he finally shot a look toward the younger one, who was already dragging the chair from the corner closer.

“even though i find it a little amusing, i also want to keep you company” beomgyu explained right after sitting down. “besides, you own the store, man. you make your own schedule. i’m not going to feel bad for you.”

“hey!” yeonjun protested, a shocked expression crossing his face at the younger one’s hot take. “for your information, i’m covering for sunwoo today! i let him leave a bit earlier so he could finish sorting out saturday’s show for us. we should already be promoting it.”

the two shared a brief silence, equivalent to the pause between one song and the next on yeonjun’s playlist echoing through the speakers. beomgyu absentmindedly spun the rings on his fingers.

“she gave me her number” beomgyu murmured, a half-smile audible in his voice.

“nice!!” yeonjun celebrated, giving his knee a small pat. “was that after you dropped her off? or did you just forget to tell me?”

“i just forgot, honestly. my head was in the clouds yesterday” he said, shifting his posture as the warmth of the previous day washed over him again. “i only realized it this morning when I pulled up my contact list to call my parents and there she was, right at the top.”

“and you haven’t texted her or anything?” yeonjun asked, having completely forgotten about the labels and boxes by now.

“well, not yet.” beomgyu saw the beta’s eyebrows furrow slightly, almost involuntarily. “do you think i should’ve?”

“maybe. but maybe that’s just how i am too.”

“man, i wanted to. but i’m scared of pushing it too much, i don’t know” beomgyu confessed, fidgeting with his fingers. “i think maybe i should relax a bit and give her the chance to reach out to me. if she wants to.”

yeonjun hummed, as if genuinely considering that point of view now.

“that’s valid” he said, stacking the now properly numbered shoeboxes. “i just think you don’t have to overthink everything before acting sometimes. not in a reckless way, just… you know?” the younger one listened carefully. the vocalist might not be an alpha, but he was older, and —unquestionably— had more romantic experience than beomgyu. “it’s good to be spontaneous, it makes things flow. especially with someone you like. i know your situation is pretty different from mine, and you’re just being careful with how you approach her. but, yeah, just keep that in mind.”

beomgyu nodded lightly, eyes fixed on the tag of a shirt he thought looked nice beside him, but without actually reading what was written there. soon, the music changed again through the speakers, but beomgyu wasn’t paying attention to that either.

the alpha’s only fear was crossing the line unintentionally. for now, he needed to look like he was in complete control. yet, his judgment was blurring. he couldn’t stop thinking about the melody of your voice or the deep, chocolate warmth of your eyes. even your hair looked way too soft to be so far out of reach. 

the real problem, though, was your scent. for the first time, he could finally name it: orange blossoms and honey, a fragrance that seemed to ripen and bloom more beautifully each day since your presentation. it had lingered in his mind long after he’d fallen asleep the night before. just a constant, sweet distraction he couldn't shake.

that worried him quite a bit. considering you were still in the early stages of an approach as normal and natural as you could possibly make it.

and beomgyu was already feeling like this every time he thought about you.

he felt warmth spread from his chest to his arms and then to the rest of his body, until he was slightly overheated. 

what the hell? 

he was really so easy for you —not that he was even trying to play hard to get, but still.

“you like this one?” yeonjun asked, pointing at the shirt beomgyu had been unconsciously staring at for a while, snapping the younger one out of his thoughts.

“ah. yeah, actually. the print’s really cool” beomgyu replied, feigning nonchalance.

“you can keep it. i think you’re in need of some new shirts anyway” yeonjun said, stretching his arm to pull the shirt off the hanger.

“i should come by more often when you’re working overtime. i think it humbles you” beomgyu joked, which immediately earned him an empty shoebox thrown at his face. still, he laughed and thanked him for the gift.

“why don’t you ask her out?” yeonjun suggested, biting the shirt tag to rip it off.

“i will” beomgyu replied, his voice firm.

“where are you planning to take her?” yeonjun asked, tossing the shirt toward the alpha, who caught it easily.

“for the first time, while we’re still getting closer and all that?” beomgyu started, thinking it through. “i was thinking something more casual, you know? with some friends around, too. It’s not really a date yet. i’ll plan that for later.” he hung the shirt over his shoulder, turning his attention back to yeonjun. “i’m planning to invite her tomorrow.”

compared to other alphas his age, beomgyu didn’t have that much experience with relationships, whether serious ones or casual flings.

he’d had a few teenage situationships in high school and hooked up with a few girls during his first year of university, but lately, not much had happened. it wasn’t like he was actively looking for more experience or felt any urgency about it. he was pretty chill. he couldn’t deny that he preferred staying home playing computer games, watching tv, or practicing guitar. lately, he’d even been trying to take the gym more seriously —a man of diverse hobbies, truly.

besides, he was well aware he was more ‘popular’ as the band’s guitarist than as the resident emo of the music department.

it was obvious to anyone who kept up with them that beomgyu, half of the band’s ‘alpha line’, was always subject of heated comments from the audience whenever a show ended. he’d had plenty of people —girls, boys, omegas, and betas— approach him directly, laying on the charm, showering him with compliments, and practically begging for backstage access or his number. but the idea never really excited him, so he’d just decline politely most of the time, though he could get a bit impatient.

plus, the guys had a mutual, unspoken agreement not to get involved with “fans” —if they were even known enough to call people that.  if you actually met someone nice at a show, the rule was simple: get their contact and deal with your romantic attraction somewhere else, at another time. don't make it messy for the band.

close friends and partners were allowed backstage, of course, although they constantly made exceptions for yeonjun’s ‘special situationships’. cause apparently, that guy preferred dying over simply calling someone his “girlfriend” or “boyfriend” right away.

and yet, there beomgyu was. actually taking relationship advice from that animal.

in his own defense, within their friend group, yeonjun was, whether he liked it or not, the most qualified on the subject. and the only other alpha he could have this kind of conversation with was just like himself, if not worse.

the sky outside darkened quickly, the street growing quieter and quieter. then they heard the little bell at the entrance ring through the store once again.

“i’m here!” an energetic voice echoed through the place.

“finally!!” yeonjun shouted back. “even beomgyu is already here. do you know how serious that is?”

“hey!” beomgyu shot back immediately, sounding offended. “i actually got here early today?”

“sorry guys” kai replied, walking further into the store toward where beomgyu was signaling with a raised arm. “i got a little distracted playing tft at the end of my shift and didn’t realize work was already over.”

the alpha reached them, only to be met with two incredulous expressions at the revelation of why he’d been late.

“at least i’ve got 30 extra minutes logged now. i can leave early on friday!” kai added, a subtle hint of excitement in his voice.

“anyway!” yeonjun exclaimed, breaking the stunned silence between his friends as he stood up from the floor in one swift motion. “let’s rehearse, then! sunwoo should be here later, but we can start now.”

still chatting, the friends headed toward the register, slipping behind a curtain that led into the storage room. deeper into the dim warehouse, they opened the frosted glass door on the right. the entrance to their back room.

the space was anchored by a burgundy rug with a vintage pattern, crisscrossed by cables from the various instruments and devices scattered around. leaning against the left wall was kai’s dad’s old leather couch, where a single teddy bear plush sat beside a poorly folded gray blanket and a black hoodie soaked in beomgyu’s scent. right next to it stood a snake plant that miraculously thrived in the windowless room, thanks entirely to yeonjun’s care. on the walls, a few acoustic foam panels they’d hung up themselves sat alongside three or four random band posters. that was it, their rehearsal room.

“aaaaargh” yeonjun exclaimed in disgust. “who left this here?!!” the older one marched toward the open bag of chips sitting right on top of his laptop on the desk, horrified at the single chip that had slipped out and was now resting on his keyboard. kai burst into hysterical laughter.

“that was a rhetorical question, right?” beomgyu replied, already sitting on the couch and pulling his guitar out of the bag on his lap.

“sunwoo is truly unfit for society!” yeonjun retorted, heading to the trash can to throw the bag away.

“guess which crappy little band is playing at velvet this weeke—” sunwoo spoke obliviously as he walked through the door, only to be met by a wall of silent, judgmental stares. “what?” he stood there for a few seconds while yeonjun, across the room, looked like he was debating whether murder was worth the jail time.

“next time you leave chips on my computer i’ll make you clean my keyboard with your tongue!”

“gross” kai said, making a face as he sat behind the drums, lightly tapping the snare to test it.

“i’d rather have a keyboard covered in chips than one slobbered on by sunwoo” beomgyu muttered, his guitar already hanging from his shoulder as he plugged into the amp.

a wicked, suggestive smile suddenly spread across sunwoo’s lips as his eyes flickered with mischief. he leaned against the doorframe, clearly enjoying the visual yeonjun had just provided.

“junnie, if you wanted me to use my tongue that badly, you could’ve just asked” sunwoo teased, his voice dropping an octave. “next time, i’ll just leave it on your-”

“i think i’m going to throw up if you finish that sentence” yeonjun snapped, cutting him off with a hand held up like a shield while the other clutched his stomach.

it was only after kai told the two betas to "be gay after rehearsal" that they finally started getting their own things in order.

sunwoo didn’t even bother taking off his jacket before plugging in his bass. he cranked the volume, played two long, rattling notes, and nodded to himself as if that was more than enough.

yeonjun kicked the mic stand’s legs open with a practiced flick, adjusting the height until it lined up with his mouth. he twisted the microphone into place and dragged the cable across the floor toward the speaker.

“hello, hello” he tested, lightly tapping the grille.

then, without even asking, he dragged another stand closer to the guitarist’s amp.

“this one’s yours. and don’t step on the cable this time.” during the last few rehearsals and shows, beomgyu hadn’t been doing much backing vocals —a sore throat from a recent cold had even made him forget to set up the mic today. but he was better now, which meant he was back on harmony duty.

“gentlemen, looks like we’re playing at velvet static records this weekend. so, about the set…” yeonjun spoke into the mic, taking advantage of the test while the boys finished tuning. beomgyu went through each string one by one, twisting the tuning pegs with quick, precise movements until they all rang clear.

it was while he was adjusting the last string that he saw it. out of the corner of his eye, the black screen of his phone resting on top of the amp suddenly lit up with a notification.

seeing the name “y/n” made his eyes widen and his hands freeze mid-motion.

: beomgyu, hi! : today i discovered a really cool new song on my way home : i thought maybe you’d like it too : [link]

you had rehearsed the words, drafted them, and copied each sentence before just spamming everything into his chat. you turned your screen off and immediately shoved the phone under your pillow, now staring at the ceiling while biting at the nails you practically didn’t have anymore.

you had spent an embarrassing part of your day contemplating whether or not you should text the alpha who had dropped you off at your front door yesterday.

you thought about it when you woke up. you thought about it on your way to university. you thought about it while you were there —even more so when you didn’t see him anywhere on campus. not that you were actively looking for him, but his absence was impossible to ignore now. you thought about it on your way back home, and again a few minutes ago when hold on till may started playing in the shower. but even if it hadn't played, he still would’ve been on your mind.

and now, without a doubt, it was better to come up with some random topic to start a ‘normal’ conversation than to be honest. you couldn't just tell him you’d spent the entire day wanting to text but were too afraid of looking crazy —and a little too proud to admit it. so, you sent a song. something silly and casual. just a simple excuse because, at the end of the day, you just wanted to talk to him.

you felt your phone vibrate under the pillow where your head was resting.

you squeezed your eyes shut. 

calm down. it might not even be him yet. 

it was too soon for him to have read it, let alone replied.

then, you felt it vibrate a second time.

you wished you knew how to control yourself better, to be a more composed woman. to convince yourself that you weren’t that anxious for a simple reply from beomgyu. but you were, and nothing you thought at this point was going to change that. you slipped your hand under the pillow, grabbed the phone, and pulled down the notification tab.

nothing.

the anxiety vanished for a second. literally just a second.

until his name popped up on the bright screen like a jumpscare, and you saw the message firsthand:

beomgyu: hii, y/n

a nervous shiver ran down your spine. you rolled onto your side, curling up, but your eyes stayed glued to the screen as the notifications kept rolling in.

beomgyu: hey, what’s up? everything good? beomgyu: how was your day?: thank you so much for thinking of me while listening to good music: i’ll listen to it in a bit, okay? beomgyu: i’m in the middle of rehearsal right now, everyone’s yelling at me for grabbing my phone beomgyu: right when we were about to start hehe beomgyu: but since i saw it was you, i had to check what it was as fast as possible

beomgyu: i’ll be back in a heartbeat

and then it stopped.

you sighed, turning the screen off and hiding your phone again, feeling a little overwhelmed. apparently, he could mess with your feelings even through a text, miles away, without even needing to intoxicate you with his scent or his presence. just his words and the mental image of him were enough.

okay. at the very least, you should have the decency to return the attention by replying quickly, instead of overthinking it.

: it’s okay, don’t worry: have a good rehearsal!!

before you could start overthinking every word, whether you sounded too dry, replied too fast, or should’ve said more, you forced yourself off the couch. you needed to stay busy. you couldn't spend the next few hours rotting away waiting for a boy’s reply.

first order of business: cleaning your room. between the heat and the emotional whirlwind of the past few days, it looked like a hurricane had hit it. your sanctuary, which you usually kept so organized, was a mess.

within a minute, you were at work. the second you stepped inside, you hit that heavy, sweet scent again, now almost nauseating. you threw open the windows and curtains, letting the fresh air circulate. you began gathering clothes from the floor, desk, and chair, sorting the clean from the laundry. you found empty water bottles, a small towel, an empty tissue box under the bed, and a blister pack of supressants on your digital piano —the ones taehyun had warned you absolutely not to touch during your first heat. you vacuumed the rug, emptied the trash, and wiped away the dust.

thankfully, the unusable bed sheets were already in the wash. you just had to pull fresh linens onto the mattress.

when you finally felt like you were done, you let out a heavy sigh, leaning back against the wardrobe behind you.

thank god that won’t happen again to me anytime soon.

even though you still didn’t know your cycle very well and would definitely need to consult a specialist to figure out the details, you imagined your heat wouldn’t return for a while. after all, even if it had only lasted two or three days, it had still been a full cycle. you assumed the intervals were measured in months, giving you some much-needed breathing room to get used to... well, everything.

when you got out, leaving the door open to let the room breathe, you felt a genuine sense of accomplishment.

“good evening” taehyun said from the living room couch, making you jump back and nearly hide in your room again.

“jesus, you scared me!!” you gasped, heart racing. “when did you get here???”

“about ten minutes ago. sorry about that” he said, eyes focused on the television while searching for the sports channel, you assumed. he had mentioned earlier that his soccer team was playing today. “you need better survival instincts. i only got in this quietly because you left the front door open.” he shot you a reprimanding look. “that’s dangerous, y/n. not like you didn’t already know that, and not like you need me reminding you right now.” you pressed your lips together.

he didn’t need to explain for you to understand what he meant. your roommate was just worried about you. and he was right.

you had already been vulnerable before, but now? you were infinitely more so.

the world was just built differently for people like you, and you’d have to be twice as careful from now on.

“yeah, i know” you replied, a bitter taste in your mouth at being reminded in such a casual moment of the dangers you constantly faced, still not used to being this fragile. “i won’t be careless again,” you assured, meeting his eyes. taehyun nodded.

“please don’t” he answered, letting the subject drop. then, his tone softened as he gestured toward the sofa. “come here, i bought pizza. but!” he raised a finger in warning as you started to move toward the couch. “only if you watch the game with me.”

your excited expression immediately fell.

“oh, come on! you’re a lucky charm” he insisted. “every time you actually watch, we win.”

“your team must be in a serious drought then” you said, giving up on pretending you weren’t willing and sitting down on the couch beside taehyun. you took the slice of pizza and the napkin he handed you. “i hope it ends quickly, because i still have notes from the classes i missed to copy tonight.”

“did you leave campus early today?” the beta asked, his eyes now fixed on the tv as the match was about to start.

“yeah. i hadn’t checked my email, but apparently the music theory professor canceled today’s class. when I got there, it was just me and a few other clueless people” you laughed, embarrassed. “so I just came back before it got dark.” you took a bite of your pizza.

“i see” taehyun replied, taking a bite of his own slice too. “music theory... that’s the elective you take with beomgyu, right?”

you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up at the casual mention of his name.

“yeah” you answered, trying to keep your voice steady. “apparently he remembered to check his email, since I didn’t see him there today.” you sounded slightly more disappointed than you would’ve liked. taehyun let out a quiet, knowing laugh, clearly sensing the shift in your mood.

“what?!” you shot back, forcing a defensive tone.

“nothing!” he said, raising his hands. “why are you so defensive?” he put on a fake confused expression, clearly enjoying how much he was flustreing you.

“forget it,” you muttered, looking away as you felt your ears grow warm.

“i think you’re a little wound up” he continued, his voice softening. “considering everything that’s happened the last few days, i don’t blame you. let’s go out this weekend? you, me, and soobin.”

“depends. where would we go?” you asked, grabbing another slice from the box.

“hmm.” taehyun stared at the ceiling while chewing. “i don't know. something casual? a movie, a drive, or just a night in. or something with more of a ‘nightlife’ vibe? like a bar or some live music. last time, we didn’t really get to enjoy it, right?”

“yeah, maybe…” you answered, even though you weren’t entirely sure yet if you were that excited to go out this weekend. the idea of staying home doing nothing at all sounded just as appealing. “let’s check with soobin tomorrow. we can see what he thinks. deal?”

just then, your phone vibrated right beside you. momentarily forgetting your internal panic from earlier, you reached for it. only to be jolted back to reality as beomgyu’s name lit up the screen.

beomgyu: hi againn beomgyu: i really liked the song!! seriously beomgyu: i played it through my car speakers beomgyu: while i was dropping a bandmate off at home beomgyu: and he kept praising it and asking me to send him my playlist beomgyu: i think i accidentally used your personality to make a guy think i’m original beomgyu : sorry for that~~ beomgyu: but seriously i liked it a lot beomgyu: i listen to slower songs like that sometimes too beomgyu: saved it to my favorites beomgyu: please recommend me more beomgyu: by the way, y/n beomgyu: you’re going to campus tomorrow, right? beomgyu: are you free at any time?

beomgyu arrived a few minutes early. he leaned against the wall beside the classroom door, phone in hand, scrolling without actually reading a single word. every now and then, he’d glance down the hallway, more out of habit than anxiety — or at least that’s what he told himself. inside, the muffled sounds of the class were still going on, the professor’s voice mixing with the scraping of chairs. when the door finally opened and the first students began to spill out, he straightened his posture, slipped his phone into his pocket, and looked up, waiting for this exact moment all along.

and then, among the crowd, he saw you. since you were a bit shorter, beomgyu spotted you before you could find him. your eyes were scanning the gaps between your classmates, searching.

suddenly, seeing you right there, beomgyu decided he was feeling a little more reckless today. yeonjun’s advice from yesterday flashed briefly through his mind.

he waited until you were close enough, then reached out and caught your wrist over the sleeve of your maroon cardigan. his grip was firm but careful as he pulled you out of the flow of students. the lack of space forced you to break yet another record for the shortest distance between the two of you.

“you’re quick to reply over text, but you always seem to be running away from me in person” he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked down at you. the rest of the crowd dispersed, with two or three people throwing curious glances your way. “something wrong?”

you felt a strange, fluttering sensation in your stomach instantly.

“i-i wasn’t running away” you stammered, feeling a bit frozen even as his grip on your wrist loosened. “i just hadn’t seen you yet.” being this close to beomgyu while he wore that mischievous little smirk made heat rise to your face.

“i know. i’m just messing with you” he said, finally letting go now that there was enough space in the hallway to stand comfortably.

“okay...” you took two small steps back, still feeling the ghost of his touch through the sleeve of your cardigan.

up close, you couldn't help but take a mental note of his scent. from a distance, the sharp, masculine note of leather was the strongest, but as you moved closer, deep, dark vanilla would began to take over. it was a dizzying mix that made your head spin.

you glanced down, using your wrinkled jeans as an excuse to steady yourself. you quickly smoothed out the fabric, catching out of the corner of your eye how his gaze followed your hands.

“um... did you want to talk to me?” you asked, trying to sound casual despite the nerves.

“mhm” he murmured, glancing down the hallway before tilting his head, signaling for you to walk with him. you fell into step beside him, your hurried pace instinctively adjusting to his calm, steady stride.

“was class okay?” he asked.

“it was, yeah” you replied. “i got the notes from last week, so I think I managed to follow the professor's logic today.”

“hm, good job” he said, his eyes scanning your expression. “a whole week of notes isn't easy to catch up on.”

“not really. it’s been a demanding week because of that” you confessed. “but it’s okay. the weekend is finally here.” beomgyu nodded in agreement. 

“what about you?” you asked. “did you have many classes today?”

“i usually have more in the afternoon, but I had secondary piano this morning” he said. you nodded as he spoke. “nearly every music major has to take it, even if piano isn't their main instrument. i guess you probably know that.” he paused, letting out a slightly embarrassed chuckle.

“actually, back at the conservatory, we didn't have secondary piano. everyone had to take choir and ear training instead.”

“oh? that’s new to me” beomgyu commented, looking genuinely intrigued.

“yeah! but that was just during the basic cycle. i’m not sure how the advanced technical programs work. i imagine they're more like the university level” you laughed.

“what kind of music did you study the most?”

“classical. i really like it” you answered, a little shyly. “some people think it’s kind of boring, but there are so many-”

“that’s cool” beomgyu interrupted, and his enthusiasm didn't feel forced at all. “those are usually the hardest pieces. so full of detail.”

“i mean, i’m not exactly a virtuoso...” you laughed awkwardly. “but yeah, some are definitely a challenge.”

he looked at you and smiled, that small, sincere kind of smile that reached his eyes.

“but... how did you end up liking rock? it’s pretty different from classical, isn't it?”

“ah, yeah.” you adjusted the strap of your backpack, the weight of your books shifting. “i’ve listened to a lot of rock at home since i was little. all kinds of subgenres, but mostly grunge. my dad has always loved it; he even had a band when he was younger.”

you paused, your voice trailing off as you began organizing your words a little too carefully to be natural.

“wow, really? what was that like? did you think he was cool?” beomgyu asked, leaning in slightly.

“well...” you let out a short, hollow laugh. “i don’t know if i remember it all that well, but...”

the air between you shifted. your scent, usually light and sweet, took on a sharper, more bitter edge. just enough for an alpha like him to catch the change in your mood.

beomgyu didn’t push. he just waited, his gaze softening as he watched you.

“...it’s kind of complicated” you finally admitted, your voice low.

the silence that followed wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. he tilted his head slightly, the look in his eyes suggesting he understood that some things just aren't easy to explain.

“it’s okay” he replied simply. there was no pity in his voice, no prying curiosity. “you don’t have to explain anything you don’t want to.”

you blinked, surprised by how easily he let you off the hook. you weren’t used to it.

“sorry” you murmured, making a small, dismissive gesture with your hand.

“there’s nothing to apologize for.” he shrugged, his posture relaxing to put you at ease. “i was just curious because of the way you talk about music. It’s different. you can tell it’s not just anything to you.”

a small, genuine smile slipped onto his face. he liked learning about you. every detail, every preference. but he was perfectly fine with doing it at your pace.

“oh, right.” beomgyu seemed to catch himself, slowing his steps in the middle of the hallway. you almost bumped into him when he stopped. “i nearly forgot the most important part.”

he turned fully toward you, standing face-to-face. the hallway was emptier now, the distant noise of other classes echoing faintly.

“my band is playing at velvet static tomorrow” he said, locking his gaze with yours. “it’s that record store downtown that hosts acoustic sets” he tilted his head, making sure you were following. “it’s a great spot. small, but the energy is good. easy to get to, too.”

he slipped his hands into his pockets, his shoulders relaxed, though his eyes were far too focused for someone who claimed to be indifferent.

“i was thinking...” he let out a quiet, huffed laugh, as if trying to keep himself from sounding too rehearsed. “that maybe you’d want to come.”

it wasn’t a casual invitation tossed into the air.

“we start at nine. but if you get there a little early...” he shrugged, that signature half-smile returning. “i can introduce you to the guys.” his eyes dropped for a second before snapping back to yours. “no pressure. i just... i think it’d be nice to have you there.” the sentence was simple, but his tone made it clear this wasn't just about the music. “you don't have to come alone. you can bring your friends if you want” he added, perhaps sensing your hesitation.

you only realized how tightly you were gripping your backpack straps when your fingers started to tingle. you loosened your hold slowly, trying to steady your breathing.

“sounds nice” you said, playing it cool. “nine?”

beomgyu nodded. a short silence followed. just long enough for the anticipation to pull at him.

“i’ll be there.” a small smile slipped out before you could stop it.

his own smile followed immediately, wide and satisfied. “nice” he said, far too simply for someone whose day had clearly just been made.

you walked side-by-side for a few more moments until you reached the exit leading to the outdoor staircase. you stopped. beomgyu studied your face, as if committing your promise to memory.

“but hey...” he took half a step forward. enough for you to feel the heat of his presence. “don’t back out at the last minute, okay?” his tone was light, but his eyes were sharp. “i’ll know if you’re not there.”

a subtle shiver ran down your spine. “i said i’d go” you replied, holding his gaze.

“hm.” he narrowed his eyes, playfully evaluating your sincerity. “okay.”

“see you tomorrow, then.”

he turned down the hallway toward the exit, but not before pulling a hand from his pocket to give you one last wave. he left you standing there, your heart beating significantly faster than when he’d arrived.

you remembered soobin earlier, saying he’d prefer a cozy night in on saturday. 

that can wait until sunday, you decided.

“soobin, can you please free up the bathroom for the love of god?! we only have a few minutes left!”

“dude, relax! i’m shaving.”

“what bear- wait… is that sound my razor?!”

you could hear the muffled bickering of soobin and taehyun from the hallway. you had decided to spend the whole saturday together before heading to the show, so soobin had basically moved into yours and taehyun’s apartment for the day.

most of the afternoon was spent lounging in the living room —movies, snacks, and endless talk. it was always fun with them, but that didn't mean the little gears in your head had stopped turning for a single second. you had overthought every detail: the outfit, the hair, the perfume, the bag. you expected the day to drag, but surprisingly, it flew by.

before you knew it, it was 8:00 PM. normally, you’d be winding down for bed, but today you were fighting with your reflection.

most of your clothes didn’t exactly scream ‘rock show’ at first glance. you’d gone through the same frustrating struggle with your closet two weeks ago. your wardrobe was mostly built of nostalgic, quiet pieces: worn-out jeans, soft lace blouses and simple sweaters in muted earthy tones. it was a style that felt comfortable and safe, but maybe a little too delicate for the place you were going tonight. but you could make it work.

you eventually settled on a delicate white dress, grounding the look with an old leather jacket that used to be your mother’s. you fastened a thin silver necklace, laced up your converse, and kept your makeup simple. after a quick spray of the floral perfume your grandmother had given you for your 21st birthday, you took one last look in the mirror and stepped out of your room.

“how is it possible that even y/n is ready and you’re not?!”

that was the first thing you heard as you stepped out of your room. taehyun was grumbling, still camped out in front of the bathroom door.

“i don’t usually take that long, but okay” you defended yourself, sinking onto the couch.

“you do” taehyun said, not taking his eyes off the door. “but today you’re actually… early.”

“i heard that!” soobin yelled from inside. “and i’m almost done!”

“you said that ten minutes ago!”

you sighed, sinking deeper into the cushions, trying to ignore how your heart was drumming a rhythm far too fast for ‘just a show’. finally, the door swung open.

“done!” soobin announced, stepping out with a smirk that didn't match the chaos he’d caused. “see? super quick.”

taehyun brushed past him without a word, muttering something about ‘collective disrespect’. soobin wandered into the living room and grabbed his phone from the arm of the couch. when his eyes landed on you, his expression softened into a knowing smile.

“you’re nervous.”

you frowned. “i’m not.”

“you are.”

“i’m not.” he shrugged, declining the argument. 

“okay. then let’s go before you actually are.”

you grabbed your phone, 8:10PM. suddenly, everything felt a little too real. you jumped off the couch, adjusting your bag.

“taehyun, if you make us late, i’m leaving without you!” you called out.

“you won’t” soobin said, opening the front door. “you hate arriving anywhere alone.”

you made a face because, damn it, he was right.

“all set!” taehyun emerged a few seconds later, grabbing his wallet. “never compare me to soobin” he said, heading toward the door.

as you walked down the stairs, the sound of the city at night beginning to wrap around the three of you, you realized something simple: stepping out of your routine was a little scary. but it wasn't so bad when you had them by your side.

around the time you arrived, it was already about 8:30 PM.

the three of you were a little early, but even so, you could already see —even from inside the taxi— the movement of people arriving. the first thing that caught your attention were the letters engraved on the large glass window at the front of the store: ‘velvet static records’, and, a little to the side on the wall, a lit-up sign that read ‘live band tonight’.

you could hear that there was already music playing inside, even if it was low, coming from the speakers to entertain the crowd as they arrived. outside, young people of all kinds leaned against the front window and the wall near the entrance, some holding cups of drinks that looked like they’d been bought at the bar across the street. they talked and laughed carefreely.

it was starting to drizzle, so you paid the driver, got out of the taxi, and headed toward the door without much delay, since the entrance seemed to be clear.

inside, it was a well-decorated record store, full of framed pictures and official posters of bands and artists displayed against a brick wall. throughout the shop, small aisles of vinyls, cds, and dvds were for sale. the space was lightly tinted by the orange, almost reddish glow of the ceiling lights. it was a cozy place. there was also a comforting hint of cinnamon in the air. you assumed it came from the scented candles lit in the corner by the register, where an employee was still available to assist anyone who came for the music and ended up interested in the records.

you walked into the store unhurriedly, looking around and occasionally stopping to check out a record that caught your attention. as you gradually moved further in, you were able to identify, at the back of the store —where there seemed to be a more open space— a drum set along with some sound equipment and microphone stands. there, on top of a faded vintage rug laid over the wooden floor, was what must be the ‘stage’.

as you and your friends got closer, curious to see the instruments up close, a small wooden door beside the stage quietly opened.

from inside, a boy with blond- no, white hair peeked into the store. his eyes scanned the room until they landed on the three of you, just a few meters away. he widened his eyes slightly in recognition. immediately, he gestured for you to come closer, opening the door wider so you could step in.

you glanced at the two betas beside you. taehyun looked back at you, hesitant, but soobin was already decided.

“kai!” soobin exclaimed, stepping forward and motioning for you to follow. you had no choice but to go with him.

“soobin hyung!” kaii replied just as enthusiastically, closing the door again once all of you had entered.

the door led to a small service hallway, cluttered with boxes and brooms piled up to the side.

“hey, guys!” kai greeted you energetically. “you must be y/n, right?” he said, waving at you. “and you...” he looked toward taehyun, appearing slightly confused.

“taehyun” he said.

“i didn’t know you were in a band!” soobin said, ruffling the boy’s hair and making him laugh.

judging purely by scent and physical appearance, kai seemed to be an alpha. you vaguely remembered a light-haired drummer from the last time you saw the band. the memories were blurry, but that unique hair color had definitely stuck with you.

“yeah, i joined not that long ago. maybe two months?” kai reflected. he was wearing a black t-shirt under a dark gray plaid shirt, paired with ripped, baggy jeans. “but i was at the last show. you didn’t go?”

“no, i bailed for... personal reasons” soobin said, glancing briefly at the floor.

“you were at home trying to rank up in league” taehyun exposed him.

“shut up?” soobin shot back.

“...you joined two months ago and the band only played for the first time like seven months ago, kai. it’s not that big of a difference” a guy’s voice called out loudly from a room at the end of the short hallway. “as far as i’m concerned, you can just tell everyone you’ve been here since the beginning.”

“but the old drummer-”

“he was kind of forgettable anyway. it’s fine” the voice replied. kai just shrugged. “you can bring them in. the idiot sunwoo already put his pants on.”

kai sighed, glancing at you before tilting his head toward the door in a silent gesture to follow him.

the rain outside was no longer just a light drizzle. the sound of droplets hitting the single window in the room created a constant hiss, almost muffling the distant murmur of the store.

unlike the rest of the shop, the lighting here was brighter, coming from cool-toned bulbs attached to the low ceiling. the room was somewhat spacious, but only because it was nearly empty of furniture. and what was there looked like it had been gathered out of pure necessity.

right under the window sat a worn-out couch with faded fabric and sunken cushions, backpacks scattered casually around it on the floor. in the corner, a small table held half-empty water bottles and a crumpled snack wrapper. in the center of the room lay a slightly misaligned velvet rug, covered in loose sheets of music —some scribbled on, others folded at the edges. on the wall to the left, a large mirror dominated the surface, its frame covered in peeling band stickers and hand-drawn doodles.

sitting on the couch was the vocalist. you vaguely remembered his face as he hummed a random melody, scrolling through his phone. between lines, he practiced vocal warm-ups you recognized from your choir days at the conservatory. he wore a striped sweater under a wrinkled, brown-toned leather jacket. leaning against the same couch, but sitting on the floor, was the bassist you didn't recognize as easily. he was plucking random notes on his bass, dressed in a red long-sleeve shirt under a black tee.

ironically, just as a small part of your brain began to grow restless, missing beomgyu, you turned your head to the left- and found him.

he was standing in front of the mirror, his back half-turned to the door. he held an eyeliner pencil in one hand while smudging his eyelid with the other, creating that messy, dark effect he seemed to like. today, he had on a black hoodie unzipped halfway, showing a dark gray band t-shirt underneath. a silver cross necklace hung around his neck, and he had a few rings on his fingers. his jeans were a faded, grayish-blue.

curiously, the alpha didn’t seem to have noticed you yet. even though you’d only been there for a few seconds, it felt a little strange. you always had the impression that beomgyu found you twice as fast as you could find him —almost as if he could sense your presence the moment you were near.

but you didn't had time to dwell on that.

“we’ve got visitors!” kai announced as soon as you fully stepped inside.

the three of them turned their heads almost at the same time.

“good thing you came on a day when the backstage is minimally presentable,” sunwoo commented, resting the bass on the couch before standing up and walking toward the three of you. friendly, ready to greet and introduce himself. yeonjun followed right behind, rising from the couch with the dramatics of a tired old man.

beomgyu was the only one who took a little longer.

first, he stayed still. surprised.

his eyes began searching for you almost instinctively. you were partially hidden by kai and soobin’s position.

he moved a few inches to the side, looking for a better angle. 

and then he saw you.

and felt everything all over again. you were so pretty it felt like his brain had invented you just to test his sanity. to see how far he was capable of controlling himself. of keeping his mouth shut. of keeping his feet planted on the ground.

he bit his lower lip discreetly, trying to contain the rush of sensations running through him. feelings that were as new to him as being an omega still was to you.

he quickly crouched down to tuck the eyeliner pencil into his backpack below the mirror, taking the moment to compose himself so he could greet you and your friends like a normal person.

it was in that brief interval that his conscious mind finally caught up to something his subconscious had been hammering at for a while. 

his alpha stirred, restless and frustrated.

because, until that moment, he couldn’t feel your pheromones.

beomgyu frowned slightly as he stood up again. his nose began to search the air more carefully as he approached, trying to find any trace of that orange blossom and honey scent, sweet like you, that always disarmed him. that aroma that made his head tingle and his fingers curl in restraint.

nothing.

he stopped behind yeonjun, waiting for his turn to greet all of you, while silently beginning to consider that maybe he was going crazy.

all he could pick up was a bittersweet scent, slightly distorted. It wasn't strong, but it was wrong, enough to make him uncomfortable. he even started to feel a light, persistent headache. still, he forced himself to be friendly, greeted everyone properly, kept up the small talk, even lingered a second longer holding eye contact with soobin —kai’s beta friend with whom beomgyu had a small rivalry when they played league of legends— just to internally provoke that usual silly competition.

until he finally got to you.

“hey” he said softly, a smile slowly growing on his lips. “you came.”

“i guess i did” you replied, letting out a small laugh.

for a second, the strange burning in his chest almost felt pleasant.

“and you came looking this pretty... i don’t think that’s very fair” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

heat rose from your neck to your face almost immediately. you opened your mouth, ready to respond with something witty, but you noticed something off about him before you could. there was a subtle tension in his jaw that made you hesitate.

while kai pulled soobin and taehyun aside to talk and yeonjun moved closer to sunwoo to discuss the setlist, beomgyu remained there with you. he inhaled again. deeper.

you assumed it was just nerves, but he was struggling to ignore it. whatever it was, something in the room or just in his head, it felt too much. cloying. artificial. it was like hearing a song you knew by heart being played completely out of tune.

his brain tried to process the scent, but his stomach reacted first. a wave of nausea rose slowly, like carsickness on a long road. he blinked a few times, forcing himself to focus.

“are you okay?” you asked, now certain something was wrong.

“mhm” he answered too quickly. “i’m great. why?”

his skin began to feel warm, his head faintly heavy. for one panicked second, he thought he might actually get sick right there. he instinctively took a step back, and you noticed immediately.

“beomgyu...” your voice was softer now. “you look pale.” before you could insist, yeonjun called from the other side of the room.

“gyu, come take a look at this. the pedal cable’s interfering again. i don’t know if it’s a quick fix or if we’ll have to replace it before we start.” it was the kind of technical problem that always ended up in beomgyu’s hands.

he nodded, but before stepping away, his hand brushed against yours. he squeezed your fingers lightly, like a silent request for patience.

“i’ll be back” he murmured.

your heart would have raced at the small gesture if it weren’t already a little accelerated with worry over the alpha.

in the corner of the room, he crouched beside yeonjun, adjusting cables and testing the sound while sunwoo played a few notes. focusing on that helped a little, it gave his mind a quick distraction.

the rain intensified outside. the movement in the shop also began to pick up.

a few minutes later, the problem was solved —it really had been just a loose connection. beomgyu returned and sat on the couch beneath the window, close to you, as you finished a light conversation with taehyun and kai.

he smiled when his eyes met yours again, but the strain was there. he leaned back against the cushions, tilting his head slightly as he closed his eyes for a few seconds. when he opened them, he took a controlled, steady breath.

it wasn’t that serious, but still. 

a dull pressure throbbed behind his eyes, his stomach remained queasy, and his body felt both restless and weak. he was doing his best to make sure you wouldn't notice how much it was affecting him.

you shifted about five centimeters closer to him, the worry returning.

“beomgyu?” 

“yeah?”

“excuse me, but… you don’t look ok”

“i am, really. it’s probably just nerves” he insisted, but his voice came out softer, lacking its usual edge.

you leaned slightly toward him, and that’s when you started to feel it too. a faint burning sensation on your skin. you frowned and moved your hand to the back of your neck, rubbing it absentmindedly. it was a strange, itchy heat that had been there since earlier, but was only now starting to get worse. you tried to brush it away, as if you could just rub the discomfort out of your skin.

beomgyu watched the gesture and froze.

“but do you usually get this nervous before shows?” you rubbed again, this time a little harder. “i mean, you seemed pretty relaxed last time…”

“what?” he interrupted, his voice tightening.

“i don’t know… my skin feels kind of sensitive.”

“how sensitive?” he replied, attentive.

“like, hot and… itching?” you answered, confused. “maybe there was something on the jacket and I didn’t notice. It’s been stored away for a while. or maybe it’s the perfume I put on before leaving… but it’s never done this to me before.”

silence.

his expression shifted slowly from disbelief to understanding.

then to the urge to laugh at his own luck.

“you put on perfume?”

“yes…?”

he closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath —which was a terrible idea, because the mixed scent hit him again. he opened his eyes immediately.

“y/n” he said, more serious now. “you can’t do that.”

you blinked.

“do what?”

“cover your scent.” his voice came out lower and controlled. “or mix it with something else.”

you went still, your brain taking a moment to connect the dots.

“but I just put on perfume…”

“you’re an omega” he replied lightly, as if explaining something very simple. “if you mess up your pheromones like that, your body reacts. and, since we are mates, so does mine.” as if to prove his point, he pressed his fingers against his temple. “i’ve had a headache and a bit of nausea since you walked in earlier.”

“i made you feel sick?” your eyes widened.

“it’s not your fault” he said quickly. “you didn’t know.”

you looked at your own hand, now resting on your collarbone, feeling the heat beneath your fingers. the burning made more sense now. you closed your jacket around yourself and leaned back, hoping it might spare beomgyu at least a little.

“it burns a little…”

“because your glands don’t like it” he explained, just as calm, even though he was clearly still uncomfortable. “and i can feel you, but at the same time i can’t. it’s all mixed up and confusing for me.” he let out a slow breath.

you stayed silent for a moment. a mix of embarrassment and guilt beginning to form.

“i’m sorry, beomgyu. i didn’t know” you started to explain, slowly. “I just… usually wear perfume when I go out at night. so I did today too.”

“mm-hm” he murmured, tilting his head slightly toward you, trying to recover the distance lost when you leaned back —even if it cost him a little. “it’s okay, it’s okay.” his voice was soft. “you just have to keep it in that little head of yours that you’re an omega now, hm? and there are some things about you that are going to need more attention and care from now on. otherwise we both end up like this: sick and weak.” he gave a wavering, but equally devastating, half smile. and you felt a shiver run down your entire body, from your shoulders to your legs.

you nodded, slowly removing your hand from your collarbone, from under the jacket, as if now you were a little more aware of your own body. the rain outside began to calm.

“th-thank you” you said sincerely. “but… how do we fix this now? you’re still not feeling great, and you have to go out there in like ten minutes” you added.

“we’ll deal with it after the show” he murmured. “but for now…” he stood up from the couch.

and then he started unzipping the rest of his hoodie right there, in front of you.

he took it off, now left only in the dark gray band t-shirt. which you realized, wasn’t a t-shirt. it was a sleeveless top. 

you weren't prepared for the sight of his arms. they were toned, solid, and completely distracting.

you simply didn’t know what to do after that sight. for one wild second, you considered that you might not have the peace of mind to sleep that night.

he carefully placed the hoodie on your lap.

“put it on” he said, his voice slow and careful. “my scent should calm your skin down, and block the perfume.”

you nodded, fighting the sudden, heavy impulse to bury your face in the fabric right then and there. to just drown in the smell of him.

[saccharinezennie]

alpha!beomgyu & his mate (part 1, part 2)

warnings: very suggestive! ALL things a/b/o, talks about mates, talks about claiming, heats, suppressants, mystery cherry-popper!alpha (i HAD to), seduction, mentions of slick, fucking & orgasms, scenting, kissing, heavy petting (barely), denial, lots of inner conflict, attempted comedy

wc: 3.5k!

it took a while for you to come around

– with slowly accepting your fate and allowing beomgyu into your life, you mean. of course, not without a few strict lines and boundaries set that he was not to cross at any point

you found that hanging out with him was not as hard as you had initially thought. beomgyu's actually fun to be around and under all of that – what you liked to call evil – he actually has a personality and hobbies!

you catch yourself laughing at his jokes more often than you intend to, making the alpha beam at you in what he believes is succession. he's also talented – and peaceful – when he isn't trying to be a flirt, easily picking up a guitar and playing tunes as per your request, leaving you awestruck at the way his fingers glide over the strings so effortlessly, pulling you into a trance

he still has his moments however, never making his desire and pursuit of you a secret. he is simply too quick with his mouth – and his hands

spending time with beomgyu took quite some convincing from your two best friends, them urging you to give the alpha a chance – of course under your strict condition that they never leave you alone with him

it's easy for them to speak. you had watched the two of them grow up madly and blindly in love with each other, lucked out when they presented and found out they were mates and hueningkai having wasted no time in claiming your friend all for himself. the two only ever had eyes for each other

beomgyu however, had been around

it's difficult for you to overcome the insecurity of not having all of the experience your supposed mate had, considering omegas were still throwing themselves at him, even if he, not too long ago, started proclaiming his new status with every encounter: off-limits, as you once heard him tell another omega when you happened to pass by

you know he's trying hard to win you over, but you're not going to give in without a fight

you'd only ever been with one alpha, taehyun having helped you when you were a new omega, figuring out for the first time how to go about your heat

now – before you got to this point – you knew taehyun very well, having gone to the same high school as him and often interacting with him because of the intertwining school activities and functions he had with your best friend – these of which hueningkai were not very fond of – and even being surprised and delighted to find out that he'd become your neighbor after highschool, occupying the unit next to the one you and your best friend were residing in – another factor hueningkai wasn't fond of – anyways...

you still remember it clearly, your best friend evacuating to kai's place, thinking she was doing a good thing by giving you some "space" and "privacy". leaving you, a freshly presented, wailing and burning omega behind to fend for yourself. you thought the agony was going to eat you alive

alpha!taehyun, who's still your neighbor to this day, had busted into your apartment, thinking you were in grave danger at the blood curdling screams that were coming from your livingspace not too long after your best friend left. you remember the alpha coming to an abrupt halt when he reached the end of the hall – frozen at your bedroom door, he stood with comically large eyes staring back at you in your pathetic, squirming state

how had he not noticed the air reeking of omegan heat the second he broke down your front foor? – he had thought, he had to get out of there – fast

mortified, he had slapped his hands over his eyes, stuttering out an apology, "y/n! i'm so so sorry! i thought you were- nevermind. i'm gonna go! i'm sorry, i-"

you remember your omega beaming at the sight of him – an alpha, a savior, exactly what you needed to get through this heat. the sight of him, wet hair like he had just gotten out of the shower, compression shirt that defined his shoulders, pecs and the abdominal muscles that had you throbbing with need and pain the lower you dragged your eyes – strong and definitely capable of taking good care of you. your eyes had snapped back up to his neck to double check, only to find no mark creeping out from under the collar of his shirt

he's unclaimed, perfect! your omega had rejoiced

you had yet to learn how to control her back then, she had made you shoot up from your bed and practically pounce on taehyun at the announcement of his departure, barely able to control the words tumbling out of you

"no! no taehyun, please stay! alpha, please stay!" you had whimpered

you were clinging onto his biceps, his shirt, anything really to keep him from leaving you like that – his scent having caused you to gush obnoxious amounts of slick, it being the first time your senses became so heightened to the intoxicating scent of an alpha – especially one that was in such close proximity

"i shouldn't, y/n," he had huffed, carefully trying to pry your wandering hands off of him, "let me go find you some help. i should really–"

"no, alpha! please, it hurts! please!" you begged, your remember your hands cradling his jaw and him opening his eyes to look at you, visibly seeing him struggle to suppress his instincts, to stop himself from doing what any alpha in his place would do – his breathing having become labored and chest rising and falling under the palm of your hand as you went to feel his rapid heartbeat

god, it was so unlike you to feel anyone up, but you couldn't care less when you felt another gut-wrenching pain wrack your core, having caused you to whimper as you used the alpha to hold yourself up at that point

"please–" you breathed against his lips before planting a chaste kiss at the corner of his mouth, and then another one, "please, i need you...alpha"

you remember hearing him curse under his breath

that was all it took for him to connect your mouths and wrap his arms around you with something of a primal growl rumbling through his chest – lifting you like you weighed nothing and slamming the door shut behind him before carrying you over to your bed – your bed where he spent day after day satiating, what seemed to be the unending fire in your core

you will the memory away now, still glad that it was taehyun who'd gotten you through what could've been a disastrous first heat with no, ahem, guidance – and possible rogue alphas roaming around, specifically on the lookout for vulnerable omegas like yourself to start their own pack, sicko's

after your first heat, you decided you would take the arduous route of suppressants, not wanting, as an unmated and unclaimed omega, to put yourself or taehyun – or any other alpha for that matter – in that type of situation again, swearing to a life of abstinence and undergoing your heat cycles by yourself

it helps that taehyun has always been trustworthy, not boastful and certainly not a blabber mouth, knowing how to keep certain things to himself. he was still extremely mature about it to this day. not even kai knew, but when your best friend returned from his place a week later to find the apartment reeking of what closely resembled your next door neighbor alpha, she instantly put two and two together

you mean, no one had to know that taehyun put you into multiple positions and fucked orgasm after orgasm out of you – easily training you to take the orders of an alpha – fulfilling your every need

that was the only time you'd told someone else about it, thanking the heavens that you now had your medication and you didn't have to go through any of that anymore. taehyun was more than perfect, but you didn't want to spend more heats with an alpha that wasn't yours, possibly developing attachments that you certainly didn't need. the suppressants would just have to do for now

well, that was if your suppressants decided they finally wanted to fucking work today

you've never had this problem before, they've been working well for you for over a year after presenting now. it was your saving grace every month, preventing what could be episodes of torture for depraving yourself of the touch of an alpha

as you currently sit in kai's living room, surrounded by what was now your extended friendgroup – you, kai, your best friend (his mate), yeonjun and well...beomgyu, you suddenly feel a hot flash coming over you, fanning yourself with your hands. it's doing damn near nothing to help

excusing yourself, you get up and go into the kitchen to grab yourself a glass of water, downing it within seconds before you hear – and feel – an imposing presence behind you

"you alright?" you hear him ask, failing to conceal the concern in his voice

"fine," you say quickly, "just feeling a little flushed. must be the spicy ramen from earlier." you reply with a sheepish little smile

your eyes meet and it's like something clicks for him, his demeanor changing instantly. he steps closer, "here" he says as he grabs the glass and fills it once more with water to the brim, "you're gonna need a lot more with that temperature"

your heart drops

...how did he know?

– and as if hearing what you're thinking, a smug grin breaks out on his face, "i can feel you all the way from here, baby. you're burning up"

you gasp, scandalized. he was coming closer now

and baby? no, he had to stop talking. right now. before you do something stupid

"hey! what did i tell you about nick names?" you point a finger at him, quickly stepping away from him as you realize that his scent was starting to curl around you. "and stop that!"

"stop what?" he smirks, closing the distance between you once again

you squeak, "you're trying to scent me, you ass! quit it!" you take a step back again, horrified to find that your back was touching the counter behind you now

he chuckles lowly, like this is some kind of game to him whilst you're struggling keep your composure. his hands come to rest on either side of you, trapping you against the counter

god, why are you liking this?

your friends are just in the other room and any one of them could walk in on the scene taking place in the kitchen right now: you and him, your breath coming out in short huffs, his face inching closer and closer to yours, your head starting to spin at the proximity, not able to look away from his lips – those plush-looking, kissable lips – and the mean little grin they still sport, his thigh nearly settling between your legs, just coming into contact with your overly eager little bundle of nerves, lips parting in a barely audible gasp that he doesn't fail to miss, a throat clearing—

wait, a throat clearing? oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

you push beomgyu back with a force you didn't know you possessed and the alpha groans, whipping his head around to glare daggers at the intruding presence, you swear you see him snarl too

yeonjun stands in the doorway, lifting his hands in mock surrender, "woah there, you two. i was just trying to get more beer from the fridge." he proclaims as he saunters over to said object, opening its door and retrieving the goods. amused, he adds, "don't let me interrupt your uh– moment."

he's at the doorway now, a scandalous little smirk on his face as he calls – basically loud enough for the entire house to hear – "you guys can continue your little smooching sesh now!"

your face is beet-red at this point, knowing that the other two most definitely heard yeonjun's declaration

your heart's beating out of your chest, beads of sweat gathering on your temples as you try to catch your breath

this was quite mortifying, especially after having bragged to them about having beomgyu stay in his lane, only for them to find out that you were, in fact, going back on the promises you've made to yourself and caving to beomgyu's – very alluring – advances–

what the fuck is going on with me today? you chastise yourself

or maybe it's him. yeah, definitely him. you point an accusatory finger at him, "you!"

"baby... wait–"

"no, beomgyu." you interrupt him, whisper shouting and flailing your hands as if to emphasize your points, "i told you no touching – and i also told you no nicknames! if you want to keep seeing me, keep your hands off me and keep your tongue in control! no more of this "baby" nonsense! got it?"

that's the last thing you say before you're out of the kitchen, beelining to the bathroom where you lock yourself in – back against the door

you exhale hard, rubbing your hands over your eyes then folding your arms over yourself

"baby"

you scoff to yourself, he's ridiculous. you could still hear it in your head, that low register of his voice still not failing to turn your legs into jelly. he knew just how to push your buttons, tiptoeing the lines you've drawn for him without effort every single time

what happened to not giving in without a fight, huh?

you recall that and the heat of his body as he pressed you against the counter, inching himself closer to you, his lips plush and inviting – daring you to close the distance, to finally feel what they'd feel like against yours

god, you wanted his mouth all over you —and those hands – clever and so persistent – on your skin, the same hands that, if you just gave him permission, would touch and take care of you where you know you were needing him most–

your eyes shoot open as you force your train of thought to come to an end, what the hell is wrong with you?, you question yourself

you have to be going crazy, you think as you now pace around the small space of hueningkai's bathroom

and then you freeze as you feel it – hot and wet, trickling down your thighs. there's simply no way. if you could laugh out loud, you'd be laughing hysterically right now

you had taken your suppressants that very morning, this was not supposed to happen

you were pressing your thighs together now, hands on the basin, recalling the conversation in the kitchen and you remember one particular thing that he said and suddenly things were falling into place

"i can feel you all the way from here, baby. you're burning up"

you knew mates were sensitive to each other's bodily conditions during those times, you'd seen it with your best friends. you also knew that time of the month was approaching

how had he figured it out so fast?

it just couldn't be true, your medication is fool-proof, able to make the natural urges of your body a breeze, not having experienced this dull ache in your core since – well, since your first heat

you squeeze your eyes shut as you finally realize: you're going into pre-heat

and your suppressants were no longer working

(well damn)

pt.1 , pt.3, masterlist

[sadnightforus]

LEGACY  (CBG) 

reporter!beomgyu x supermodel gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Sitting at the conference to clear your rumors, is not how you envision to see your ending at all. But before it could end your livelihood, you have to end your own self for good. 

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

WARNINGS: act of suicide, mentioned of plastic surgery, mentioned of bullying (although no real event happening), betrayal coming from beomgyu’s part (but did he? DID HE??), mentioned of sexual encounters, tiny description of bl**d, the reader is implied to be a female but generally it’s gender neutral. if you can’t handle the bl**d, look away. 

slightly, slightly inspired by how puppa woman by jun togawa makes me feel. 

A/N: hi… hope you like this one. idrc if reporters have camera, I will make my own version thx.

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated! 

 All you can see is the same familiar faces of the people who try to ruin yourself in the name of journalism. 

 You wish you hadn’t had to sit down and do this as everywhere you turn, you’ll meet with dirty, unique, yet such hurtful insults directed at you, even if you weren’t actually doing such things. 

 The flickers of cameras, the bright light that hurts your eyes but you keep smiling as you compose yourself. You’re holding a conference to clear up the rumors that start making their way online and become a sensational hot topic in a matter of 3 days. Even if the smile is undoubtedly the fakest thing you can muster, you have to be strong and handle the pressure like a champ. 

 It’s how you have survived for so long until you’re not. 

 You think you look perfect today, after all, with a little help and major enhancements on your physical appearance, it’ll be a shame if you didn’t turn out to be the hottest person in the room. Accompanied by a white dress that shows off your simple, yet extraordinarily beautiful looks, you think your stylists had made a great choice although you weren’t sure how you exactly turn out to be in pictures captured by those rats of reporters and paparazzis. 

“Hi everybody, as you may know, I’m Y/N.” 

 There’s a hint of playfulness, better described as mischievousness lingering in your voice as you speak into the microphone that surrounds all over you. Almost as if it doesn’t really bother you as much. There’s a dangerous edge in your voice that waits for the right person to just push the last button so you can finally break. 

 No, it doesn’t sound remorseful and shameful like most had expected after many secrets of yours were revealed. The tone is neutral, very calm but yet so cold. Beomgyu almost flinches at the iciness as it is a huge contrast to your usual friendly, warm and honey-like addicting voice. 

 You scan the room, looking for the man you want to give hell to. You succeed as you see the very much ethereal looking reporter-slash-photographer is at the very first row. You giggle mentally, thinking how he must’ve been hours earlier than everybody else to get a good spot to witness you in clear sight. 

 However, he’s the type to ruin your life. His profession ruins your life. 

 A fucking traitor. 

 You can’t believe you trusted him for months, thinking he was just an average skater boy who now lives in the city and struggles to find a job but oh.. little did you know that his occupation is out there to taunt your reputation and stardom into dust. All dreams and hard work ruined because of a fake scandal or just anything that displeases any netizens. 

“So I’m doing this conference, to clear up a few things. I’ll tell you how it is.” 

 Screams are heard, reporters that stand in the front, including Beomgyu almost break the string that separates you and those people apart just to take a closer look at the fallen star. 

 Screams uproar, some throw in the most disrespectful questions possible to try and get their point across. They almost fall over themselves trying to get a better look of you, including the betraying man. The most questions are: 

“Is it true that you got plastic surgeries?” 

“Is it true that you bully your co-stars?” 

“Is it true that you’re sleeping with big names to get where you are?” 

 You know every moment, body language, and even a slight millisecond changes once this heated topic of the conference is held and now broadcast over various channels. You can also envision people cursing you out, spewing insults and other disturbingly hurtful things that you’d rather not hear. 

 The once perfect idol loses their crown and now has become a dirt floor that people gain the courage to step on, seeing you at your lowest. 

 You want to thank Beomgyu, the man who makes you have today, just today that you have to face hundreds of these rats that hold a very large part in ruining your career and running your reputation to the ground, making it harder to defend yourself or come back. 

 You want to laugh out of amusement and shock, also sadness, although not a very good look for right now. 

 So you hold it in. 

“First, I never bully my co-stars. I don’t know where those rumors come from. It’s true that I keep my distance, though.” You keep your neutral face, calmly clearing the rumors as you notice the sparkly big eyes that belong to him are enticed by your presence but you also know that he is up to no good. 

“Second, I didn’t sleep my way to the top. I knew a lot of people and they referenced me to do jobs just right. I don’t offer sex to just anybody. Although I might’ve done charity by sometimes doing it with people who aren’t… let say, on the same level as me?” The corner of your lip pulls itself to create a more upturned look, knowing that this will undeniably piss that male reporter off. You see he’s taking pictures of you, that you can only hope they turn out perfect. 

 More uproars arise, some make a disgusted face that shows that they hated how you carry yourself so cockily and didn’t give them the answers they wanted. Although, it makes for a better story time as more speculations arise, do you sleep with fans or just anybody you consider hot enough? 

 Beomgyu grits his teeth, now seething with anger as he’s trying to focus on his job. He knows that you guys are nothing more than just a lucky fan who gets to have his dream idol on his bed for the night, why is he so mad and possessive over you? He’s also aware that you’re a grown person, so it shouldn’t be a problem that you sleep around with people that you find attractive or have a steamy hot passion with. But he’s just an idiot who clearly can’t separate his emotions from an outwardly bonding experience he shared with you. 

 Does he mean nothing to you? 

 He almost bites his lips off in anger. 

 Is he just someone you can tell those things to and he has to pretend it doesn’t affect him? 

 Does those words hold no weight of sincerity behind it? 

 Those are the questions that he seeks your response to.  

“Third, yes, I have surgeries. What about it?” You clear your throat, this time make sure to linger your stares into the lying man a little. 

 The hall’s screams increased, shocked by the absolute bluntness. But this also means that you’ll lose your fanbase due to the company marketing you as an all natural. 

 You decide that it’s time. 

 You stand up, pulling the hem of your sparkling white dress to not create further crease of the soft fabric. Then you take a few steps forward, heels clicking with the stage floor, creating a soft thud sound as everyone is now intrigued by your next move. 

 You walk all the way to stand in front of the white cloth table, pick up a microphone, which you know belongs to Beomgyu’s. You then speak into the device, letting your voice be heard. 

“I’m plastic. I know it. Never claim to be all natural. You all wrote me off as one.” 

 Behind the televisions where they broadcast the whole interview live, there are old people who cuss you out for being talentless and hideous looking after the photos of your past appearance that you desperately tried to hide circulating online. 

“Guess you can’t trust just anybody that day. Who would’ve thought that people turn out to be such a fake two faced scumbag?” The phrase escapes your mouth and although it sounds like a generalization, it is actually for Choi Beomgyu. 

 You can only hope he’d get that. 

 You take a small breath in, searching for the courage for whether it is a bad idea that you seek for an attention that ultimately, will end you in this way or also in another way. Beomgyu notices one of your palms that isn’t holding his microphone, is fisted. Naturally, it gets his attention and he can feel there is something odd that is hidden under your skin. But your voice distracts him from his analysis.  

“I also should’ve known the love wasn’t very much gonna be permanent.” You smile, watching the reporters confused by your statement that is a major contrastation to your facial expressions. 

“Before I climbed my way to the top, I was ugly. Unattractive. It destroyed me. Now I had the looks and it still destroyed me. But I won’t let that happen…” You pause, looking around to observe your manager at the hidden corner who can sense that there is trouble arising your way. 

“I’m a cheap fake person. I won’t be able to come back even if I try. Because of course, you all want a perfect star. I might not be able to achieve my legacy as a supermodel, but I will…” You eye everybody straight up, sending them the happiest and most bone chilling smile of your life. 

 It’ll be the last time they see your smile. 

 You hope that they’ll have guilt and some consciousness doing this to you and many others. Oh, how that beautiful smile of yours will continue to haunt them like a ghost for the rest of their lives. 

“If I do this…” Swiftly putting a microphone onto the table, you pull out a razor, you let the sharp metal make contact with your skin, precisely your wrist, inflicting the object so deep you can feel it’s touching your veins. And you dare to go deeper as everybody now no longer let out a scream of amazement but panicked ones. 

 Beomgyu’s eyes widened as this event wasn't supposed to happen at all. 

 Fuck. 

 He turns off the camera, hands shaking as he nearly drops expensive essentials. But he couldn’t care less about that right now with the way he shuts the camera off to stop letting it photograph you and puts the device into his bag as he hurriedly rushes out with a hushed apology to everybody who was doing their jobs there. He climbs over the seperated red string as security guards try to intimidate him away. But as your manager yells "Let that guy in and don’t let the others come close!”, they have to reluctantly make ways for Beomgyu. 

 He isn’t supposed to be doing this, it was supposed to be professionalism before emotions but of course, it’s immoral and he can’t tolerate such injustice when seeing you like this. 

 He’s supposed to hate you, but he can’t. 

 Streams of hot red liquid drips from your wrist, with the way the razor is now tossed away from your hand but you’re unable to stop bleeding, there’s a sense of terrific regret lingering inside of him. 

 You think he must’ve been able to read you so well because as you feel light headed and more dizzy with time passing by and knees aren’t able to support you any longer, you’re collapsing and would most likely hit the stage floor if it wasn’t for his strong arms that carry you. 

 He watches you dying, yet he can’t do anything about it. The person who he has loved since forever is now going further and further away from him. 

“I- I never spread those photos! I also never spread any rumors!” He chokes out, body going in a state of frantic as his eyes shimmering with tears, looking at the state you’re in. 

 The gaze he has for you is no longer any sort of resentment, but rather, there is a weight of sincerity and longing in it. It takes losing you to realize that he can’t live without you, not by himself in this cold lonely world. 

 You blink slowly, chest heaving as you try to observe your surroundings more. You see him, you hear him and the loud screams and yells from reporters that try to capture this moment to make their dirty money off your misery. 

“Baby, fuckfuckfuck- don’t close your eyes! The ambulance will be here soon, don’t close your eyes!” 

 Your eyes hold a confused look to it, by the usage of the name ‘baby’. You don’t know who the man is in front of you now that changes so suddenly, but you weren’t really complaining. 

 Too bad you can feel yourself reaching closer to the realms. 

“I love you! I have loved you for so long! We were childhood neighbors, remember? Even if you called yourself ugly, you were never to me! Pleasepleaseplease don’t close your eyes!” He rambles out a love confession, knowing it might be a little too late as the screams of panic arising with every second passing by. 

 His eyes are drenched with tears, the salty streams of aqua makes it way more frequent and starts drenching his shirt. He wants to savor this moment a little longer, to see you before you go. But his brain keeps telling him that you’ll survive, despite seeing how deep the cut in your wrist is. It even stains your white dress.

 It scares him that this is the only time where he sees you for the last time, forever. 

 You suck in a deep breath, he panics, you can feel it the way his hands tremble underneath your body as he holds you close, worried that it might be your last breath. You let out a sigh, difficulties presenting itself in the way you try to accentuate every word out.

“I’ve loved you too. I’m sorry, I never meant what I said.” 

 Even as you speak, you never lose your smile. He wishes that he sticks around you to see your face longer. There are slow, dried drops of tears coming from your eyes as your chest heaves in for another breath. 

 It might really be your last. 

 You think back about your childhood, your aspirations and how you promised to spend your life to the fullest and would never lose yourself to shallow things that bring you misery. 

 Ironically, you’re in this situation and you accept your defeat now. 

 You reach your hand out to hold his, even if the notion is weaker than it usually would. He accepts it, gently embracing your beautiful hand that is in his hold. Your visions are getting darker and you think you finally see the realms of peace that you had always dreamt of. 

 You want to be there. 

 You look at his face one last time, feeling his immense love even if not much words exchange but you know it’s time you go and repay your debts. You know the clock never has mercy on anybody as your eyelids now can’t open by their own will anymore and your hand now falls out of his grasp, signaling that you’re no longer alive. 

 Searching for peace has always been your mission. A journey that is incredibly fulfilling. You’ve heard so much about it and it is one of your biggest yet most challenging aspects in your life to finally be content with where you are. But you know that following your heart into this realm of darkness where nothing will disturb you and only brings you eternity of the solitude that you can only hope for, you do so with no regret. 

 But doing so, means that you left crying Beomgyu who holds your limp body, screaming out “WAKE UP, BABY PLEASE!” In front of reporters and paparazzis who manage to capture your legendary conference, the impactful rumor clearance and your death, broadcasting all over the country and now will be remembered as your legacy is tied to the last 30 minutes before your exit from life. 

COPYRIGHTED BY SADNIGHTFORUS, 2023

[sadnightforus]

LEGACY  (CBG) 

reporter!beomgyu x supermodel gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Sitting at the conference to clear your rumors, is not how you envision to see your ending at all. But before it could end your livelihood, you have to end your own self for good. 

WORD COUNT: 2.7K

WARNINGS: act of suicide, mentioned of plastic surgery, mentioned of bullying (although no real event happening), betrayal coming from beomgyu’s part (but did he? DID HE??), mentioned of sexual encounters, tiny description of bl**d, the reader is implied to be a female but generally it’s gender neutral. if you can’t handle the bl**d, look away. 

slightly, slightly inspired by how puppa woman by jun togawa makes me feel. 

A/N: hi… hope you like this one. idrc if reporters have camera, I will make my own version thx.

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated! 

 All you can see is the same familiar faces of the people who try to ruin yourself in the name of journalism. 

 You wish you hadn’t had to sit down and do this as everywhere you turn, you’ll meet with dirty, unique, yet such hurtful insults directed at you, even if you weren’t actually doing such things. 

 The flickers of cameras, the bright light that hurts your eyes but you keep smiling as you compose yourself. You’re holding a conference to clear up the rumors that start making their way online and become a sensational hot topic in a matter of 3 days. Even if the smile is undoubtedly the fakest thing you can muster, you have to be strong and handle the pressure like a champ. 

 It’s how you have survived for so long until you’re not. 

 You think you look perfect today, after all, with a little help and major enhancements on your physical appearance, it’ll be a shame if you didn’t turn out to be the hottest person in the room. Accompanied by a white dress that shows off your simple, yet extraordinarily beautiful looks, you think your stylists had made a great choice although you weren’t sure how you exactly turn out to be in pictures captured by those rats of reporters and paparazzis. 

“Hi everybody, as you may know, I’m Y/N.” 

 There’s a hint of playfulness, better described as mischievousness lingering in your voice as you speak into the microphone that surrounds all over you. Almost as if it doesn’t really bother you as much. There’s a dangerous edge in your voice that waits for the right person to just push the last button so you can finally break. 

 No, it doesn’t sound remorseful and shameful like most had expected after many secrets of yours were revealed. The tone is neutral, very calm but yet so cold. Beomgyu almost flinches at the iciness as it is a huge contrast to your usual friendly, warm and honey-like addicting voice. 

 You scan the room, looking for the man you want to give hell to. You succeed as you see the very much ethereal looking reporter-slash-photographer is at the very first row. You giggle mentally, thinking how he must’ve been hours earlier than everybody else to get a good spot to witness you in clear sight. 

 However, he’s the type to ruin your life. His profession ruins your life. 

 A fucking traitor. 

 You can’t believe you trusted him for months, thinking he was just an average skater boy who now lives in the city and struggles to find a job but oh.. little did you know that his occupation is out there to taunt your reputation and stardom into dust. All dreams and hard work ruined because of a fake scandal or just anything that displeases any netizens. 

“So I’m doing this conference, to clear up a few things. I’ll tell you how it is.” 

 Screams are heard, reporters that stand in the front, including Beomgyu almost break the string that separates you and those people apart just to take a closer look at the fallen star. 

 Screams uproar, some throw in the most disrespectful questions possible to try and get their point across. They almost fall over themselves trying to get a better look of you, including the betraying man. The most questions are: 

“Is it true that you got plastic surgeries?” 

“Is it true that you bully your co-stars?” 

“Is it true that you’re sleeping with big names to get where you are?” 

 You know every moment, body language, and even a slight millisecond changes once this heated topic of the conference is held and now broadcast over various channels. You can also envision people cursing you out, spewing insults and other disturbingly hurtful things that you’d rather not hear. 

 The once perfect idol loses their crown and now has become a dirt floor that people gain the courage to step on, seeing you at your lowest. 

 You want to thank Beomgyu, the man who makes you have today, just today that you have to face hundreds of these rats that hold a very large part in ruining your career and running your reputation to the ground, making it harder to defend yourself or come back. 

 You want to laugh out of amusement and shock, also sadness, although not a very good look for right now. 

 So you hold it in. 

“First, I never bully my co-stars. I don’t know where those rumors come from. It’s true that I keep my distance, though.” You keep your neutral face, calmly clearing the rumors as you notice the sparkly big eyes that belong to him are enticed by your presence but you also know that he is up to no good. 

“Second, I didn’t sleep my way to the top. I knew a lot of people and they referenced me to do jobs just right. I don’t offer sex to just anybody. Although I might’ve done charity by sometimes doing it with people who aren’t… let say, on the same level as me?” The corner of your lip pulls itself to create a more upturned look, knowing that this will undeniably piss that male reporter off. You see he’s taking pictures of you, that you can only hope they turn out perfect. 

 More uproars arise, some make a disgusted face that shows that they hated how you carry yourself so cockily and didn’t give them the answers they wanted. Although, it makes for a better story time as more speculations arise, do you sleep with fans or just anybody you consider hot enough? 

 Beomgyu grits his teeth, now seething with anger as he’s trying to focus on his job. He knows that you guys are nothing more than just a lucky fan who gets to have his dream idol on his bed for the night, why is he so mad and possessive over you? He’s also aware that you’re a grown person, so it shouldn’t be a problem that you sleep around with people that you find attractive or have a steamy hot passion with. But he’s just an idiot who clearly can’t separate his emotions from an outwardly bonding experience he shared with you. 

 Does he mean nothing to you? 

 He almost bites his lips off in anger. 

 Is he just someone you can tell those things to and he has to pretend it doesn’t affect him? 

 Does those words hold no weight of sincerity behind it? 

 Those are the questions that he seeks your response to.  

“Third, yes, I have surgeries. What about it?” You clear your throat, this time make sure to linger your stares into the lying man a little. 

 The hall’s screams increased, shocked by the absolute bluntness. But this also means that you’ll lose your fanbase due to the company marketing you as an all natural. 

 You decide that it’s time. 

 You stand up, pulling the hem of your sparkling white dress to not create further crease of the soft fabric. Then you take a few steps forward, heels clicking with the stage floor, creating a soft thud sound as everyone is now intrigued by your next move. 

 You walk all the way to stand in front of the white cloth table, pick up a microphone, which you know belongs to Beomgyu’s. You then speak into the device, letting your voice be heard. 

“I’m plastic. I know it. Never claim to be all natural. You all wrote me off as one.” 

 Behind the televisions where they broadcast the whole interview live, there are old people who cuss you out for being talentless and hideous looking after the photos of your past appearance that you desperately tried to hide circulating online. 

“Guess you can’t trust just anybody that day. Who would’ve thought that people turn out to be such a fake two faced scumbag?” The phrase escapes your mouth and although it sounds like a generalization, it is actually for Choi Beomgyu. 

 You can only hope he’d get that. 

 You take a small breath in, searching for the courage for whether it is a bad idea that you seek for an attention that ultimately, will end you in this way or also in another way. Beomgyu notices one of your palms that isn’t holding his microphone, is fisted. Naturally, it gets his attention and he can feel there is something odd that is hidden under your skin. But your voice distracts him from his analysis.  

“I also should’ve known the love wasn’t very much gonna be permanent.” You smile, watching the reporters confused by your statement that is a major contrastation to your facial expressions. 

“Before I climbed my way to the top, I was ugly. Unattractive. It destroyed me. Now I had the looks and it still destroyed me. But I won’t let that happen…” You pause, looking around to observe your manager at the hidden corner who can sense that there is trouble arising your way. 

“I’m a cheap fake person. I won’t be able to come back even if I try. Because of course, you all want a perfect star. I might not be able to achieve my legacy as a supermodel, but I will…” You eye everybody straight up, sending them the happiest and most bone chilling smile of your life. 

 It’ll be the last time they see your smile. 

 You hope that they’ll have guilt and some consciousness doing this to you and many others. Oh, how that beautiful smile of yours will continue to haunt them like a ghost for the rest of their lives. 

“If I do this…” Swiftly putting a microphone onto the table, you pull out a razor, you let the sharp metal make contact with your skin, precisely your wrist, inflicting the object so deep you can feel it’s touching your veins. And you dare to go deeper as everybody now no longer let out a scream of amazement but panicked ones. 

 Beomgyu’s eyes widened as this event wasn't supposed to happen at all. 

 Fuck. 

 He turns off the camera, hands shaking as he nearly drops expensive essentials. But he couldn’t care less about that right now with the way he shuts the camera off to stop letting it photograph you and puts the device into his bag as he hurriedly rushes out with a hushed apology to everybody who was doing their jobs there. He climbs over the seperated red string as security guards try to intimidate him away. But as your manager yells "Let that guy in and don’t let the others come close!”, they have to reluctantly make ways for Beomgyu. 

 He isn’t supposed to be doing this, it was supposed to be professionalism before emotions but of course, it’s immoral and he can’t tolerate such injustice when seeing you like this. 

 He’s supposed to hate you, but he can’t. 

 Streams of hot red liquid drips from your wrist, with the way the razor is now tossed away from your hand but you’re unable to stop bleeding, there’s a sense of terrific regret lingering inside of him. 

 You think he must’ve been able to read you so well because as you feel light headed and more dizzy with time passing by and knees aren’t able to support you any longer, you’re collapsing and would most likely hit the stage floor if it wasn’t for his strong arms that carry you. 

 He watches you dying, yet he can’t do anything about it. The person who he has loved since forever is now going further and further away from him. 

“I- I never spread those photos! I also never spread any rumors!” He chokes out, body going in a state of frantic as his eyes shimmering with tears, looking at the state you’re in. 

 The gaze he has for you is no longer any sort of resentment, but rather, there is a weight of sincerity and longing in it. It takes losing you to realize that he can’t live without you, not by himself in this cold lonely world. 

 You blink slowly, chest heaving as you try to observe your surroundings more. You see him, you hear him and the loud screams and yells from reporters that try to capture this moment to make their dirty money off your misery. 

“Baby, fuckfuckfuck- don’t close your eyes! The ambulance will be here soon, don’t close your eyes!” 

 Your eyes hold a confused look to it, by the usage of the name ‘baby’. You don’t know who the man is in front of you now that changes so suddenly, but you weren’t really complaining. 

 Too bad you can feel yourself reaching closer to the realms. 

“I love you! I have loved you for so long! We were childhood neighbors, remember? Even if you called yourself ugly, you were never to me! Pleasepleaseplease don’t close your eyes!” He rambles out a love confession, knowing it might be a little too late as the screams of panic arising with every second passing by. 

 His eyes are drenched with tears, the salty streams of aqua makes it way more frequent and starts drenching his shirt. He wants to savor this moment a little longer, to see you before you go. But his brain keeps telling him that you’ll survive, despite seeing how deep the cut in your wrist is. It even stains your white dress.

 It scares him that this is the only time where he sees you for the last time, forever. 

 You suck in a deep breath, he panics, you can feel it the way his hands tremble underneath your body as he holds you close, worried that it might be your last breath. You let out a sigh, difficulties presenting itself in the way you try to accentuate every word out.

“I’ve loved you too. I’m sorry, I never meant what I said.” 

 Even as you speak, you never lose your smile. He wishes that he sticks around you to see your face longer. There are slow, dried drops of tears coming from your eyes as your chest heaves in for another breath. 

 It might really be your last. 

 You think back about your childhood, your aspirations and how you promised to spend your life to the fullest and would never lose yourself to shallow things that bring you misery. 

 Ironically, you’re in this situation and you accept your defeat now. 

 You reach your hand out to hold his, even if the notion is weaker than it usually would. He accepts it, gently embracing your beautiful hand that is in his hold. Your visions are getting darker and you think you finally see the realms of peace that you had always dreamt of. 

 You want to be there. 

 You look at his face one last time, feeling his immense love even if not much words exchange but you know it’s time you go and repay your debts. You know the clock never has mercy on anybody as your eyelids now can’t open by their own will anymore and your hand now falls out of his grasp, signaling that you’re no longer alive. 

 Searching for peace has always been your mission. A journey that is incredibly fulfilling. You’ve heard so much about it and it is one of your biggest yet most challenging aspects in your life to finally be content with where you are. But you know that following your heart into this realm of darkness where nothing will disturb you and only brings you eternity of the solitude that you can only hope for, you do so with no regret. 

 But doing so, means that you left crying Beomgyu who holds your limp body, screaming out “WAKE UP, BABY PLEASE!” In front of reporters and paparazzis who manage to capture your legendary conference, the impactful rumor clearance and your death, broadcasting all over the country and now will be remembered as your legacy is tied to the last 30 minutes before your exit from life. 

COPYRIGHTED BY SADNIGHTFORUS, 2023

[beomiracles]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔

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 a sequel to, The Redemption of Choi Yeonjun ⎯ It's advised that you read said fic beforehand !

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’. 

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hiiiiiiii serene ><

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. EEEEEEKKKKKK im so excited for this and already the way it starts im dragged in, right back to with yeonjun and the chois lol- i already love how beomgyu is different from yeonjuns internal monologue like yeonjun we didnt see much or even at all in his head but he was so nonchalant but beomgyu is pushing back against the feeling so obviously not nonchalant lol  

“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..” oooo hes this kinda bully and you know what….ive come to know i like bully fics a bit whoops but i love it- 

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. WAIT I LOVE THEM- LIKE ACTUALLY I LOVE THE BACK AND FORTH-  you can not take this away from me something about enemies that use to be friends is just so perfect like this speaks to me like the underling angry will just always feel so much better to read just knowing they kinda hate each other already for different things- AND READER KINDA BEING A BULLY BACK TO BEOMGYU yes yes yes what was needed and “you were finally able to sharpen the knife that had been so diligently resting behind your back for three year.” no i love your writing this is so good i'm going crazy- 

He was predictable, and without his friends, he was an easy target for someone who’d been studying him for so long. Oh i love this sm- 

“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. MY BABY EEEEEEKKKKKK

“Now I know you aren’t too acquainted with the other class, so I’ve taken the liberty of pre-arranging partners for you.” well of course my fav forced proximity 

“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. LMAO NO WHY DID I GIGGLE- but stop beomgyu no no 

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. Wait shes just like me- i do this like its no ones business- 

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. No i love this and just even knowing that she helped him with his work and now he just takes it from people is wild and makes sense because he cant ask his cool friends for help so might as well just take it you know but this spending time is wild like what do you mean i love them both sm so fast- 

Ah yes, Mimi hiiii queen no cry 

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.  This is actually wild lmao- not room 291- 

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. Oh thats evil i love tho when smells are added into fics because it really does call back sm i dont know and her remembering what he smelled like uuuugggh i love it i dont care i love it sm- 

Was he talking about Taehyun? Your Taehyun. The same Taehyun that he’d made write his essay. HE IS MY TAEHYUN- 

“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?” wait why am i biting my lip and giggling like eeeekkkk he spat ‘get your fucking hands off of me,” and yanked her in a near bruising manner omfg i love him- im so obsessed with him its unhealthy- 

How did he know about that? Just how much had Taehyun told him when doing his essay? Damn what did he say- also maybe he was listening but eh maybe no- taehyun shut your mouth i love you but TALKING WITH THE ENEMY??? 

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? Okay shakespeare these lines so are so good wtf- 

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. THE LONGING MY POOR BOY- like i said he gets to see what it was like when he left reader and you know what i love a little bit of poetic justice- 

“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 pls i love him i dont care let him be mean i love it it makes me blush 

Shoving the pen he was previously twirling between his fingers back into its container, Beomgyu turns to you with a sneer. Keep twirling it i love you 

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. Again with the smells i love it sm- and the pinky THE PINKY HE BRUSHES HIS HAIR BACK WITH MY FAV PART OF THIS FIC IS YOU ALWAYS TALKING ABOUT HIS DAMN PINKY- 

“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 way this feels so evil and exposing like its not even funny anymore like i love him i do but this im squirming around cause you dont know how he feels about what happened to them, especially when he just seemingly dropped reader like it was nothing and moved on without a word- 

“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. NO FUCK YOU FUCK THIS FIC AND FUCK MY FEELINGS CAUSE WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT - AND TO HAVE THIS LIKE RIGHT IN MY FACE AFTER HES JUST MADE IT SEEM SILLY THAT SHE EVEN KEPT IT SILLY IN A LIKE ‘YOURE A FUCKING FREAK’ WAY LIKE NO THATS SO EVIL HES A LITTLE SHIT AND I LOVE HIM BUT LIKE FUCK- 

“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.  No this is too much for me im just a girl who loves beomgyu and this is too much- 

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. THAT AWFUL PIECE OF SHIT YOU EVIL BOY WHY AND JUST CLOSING THE DOOR LOOKING BACK WITH THAT SICK LITTLE SMILE GTFO LEAVE MY LIFE (but dont i love you) 

“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. oooooohowilovehimsm

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 no because my heart is feeling things i love them i know its small and i just love the winter setting its my fav but the intimacy in the small moments even if its a huge thing for her to be there in the first place but just as well its so UGH- AND TO PITY HIM- 

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. AND NOW HIS PITY ON HER LKE A KNIFE IN THE BACK YOU ASS, AND HIS PINKY AGAIN I CANT EVEN HATE HIM BECAUSE I LOVE HIM WITH NOTHING BUT A BRUSH OF A KNUCKLE LIKE WTF- 

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. Sobs because i love him and i know it wasnt all yeonjun it must not have been but it also could have been because it was easy to be friends with yeonjun more so than reader if that makes sense- 

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. IM OUT OF BREATH OMFG YYAAYAYAYAYAYA WE ALL CHEERED AND THRASHED AROUDN ON THE FLOOR BC I LOVE THSI I LOVE A JUMPSCARE OF A KISS LMAO- 

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. AWWWWW when he calls you insane <3333 and leaves im not even kidding when im saying im giggling like i love this sm like its not funny like i know it was crazy i get that and i know he muct be mad, it wasnt the time to kiss him but like im kicking  my feet and giggling while biting my fist rn lmao- 

“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..”  i love taehyun in this sm dont play this is perfection i love him and him being there and just cozy soft smart vibes lol- 

He shared the small flat with one of the juniors, you think his name might be Kai. hiiiii baby 

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. Sttttttoooooopppppp sexy sleepy taehyun like its nothing just dropped in the fic and im supposed to be normal? 

But had Taehyun always looked this… Good wasn’t the right word… At least you didn’t think it was. HE IS MINE BACK TF OFF 

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. Lmao we all saw it coming- 

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.” i took latin for six years lmao and it was my smallest class we never had more than five kids a class it was very secret history vibes but whatever but like i love this also like i know he took pity on beomgyu and everything but like bb you didnt have to let him talk to you like that come on- 

Latin… He picked it out of pity? Not because he enjoyed it but because he felt bad? GIRL pls its so obvious- 

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. AND HES LAUGHING AS HE GETS HIT BITCH NO NO NO ILL DIE I LOVE IT SM ITS MY FAV IN A FIC PLS THIS IS PERFECT I LOVE IT SM- MORE MORE MORE BEAT HIS ASS! 

Its blue and purple hues were a stark contrast to his honey-like skin. Hhhheeeeyyy sexy 

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. OH! OH! OH! 

This time Beomgyu was acting on his desires, not yours. And that scared you. OMFG

“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.” i love him sm i dont care- 

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.  Okay i want the 15in macbook air with 3m in space gray plz! 

He’s rough, surprisingly so. You’d always taken him for a little bitch. And you know what this is a fic by serene i would have known even blindfolded if you read me this line- 

you blink up at him expectantly. He doesn’t return your gaze. That hurt. OUCH- CRITICAL DAMAGE- 

“I love you.” BITCH WTF WHY TF WOULD YOU ACTUALLY DO THIS TO ME LIKE IM HERE HAVING A GOOD ASS FUCKING TIME AND THIS IS WHAT IM HANDED THIS SECONDHAND EMBARRASSING PIECE OF SHIT THAT I ACTUALLY LOVE CAUSE I LOVE THE EMOTIONS BUT LIEK WTF SERENE YOU DID THIS TO FUCKING HURT ME LIKE WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT AT THIS TIME? THEY ARE LIKE NOT EVEN READY GIRL COULD NOT EVEN KISS HIMWITHOUT HIM PUSHING HER AWAY LIKE SO HARD LMAO LIKE HUH THEY HAVE NOT TALKED NOT ANYTHING LIEK WTF- wait but if beomgyu was looking at me all busted up from a fight…. Maybe she was on to something cause i would also prob say it the second he came over in the ripped shirt but like NOT THE POINT THE POINT IS WHY AND WHY DO I LOVE IT EVEN WHEN I HATE TI- 

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. GIIIIIRRRL ENOUGH IS ENOUGH also its so funny to me to think he just stops mid thrust and side eyes her lmao- 

“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.  You know when this was tagged with rough sex i didnt think it would be mentally tolling lmao but also….when he screams at you during sex <33 lmao- 

​​“You’re confused”, he jeers, LMAO “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. OH! unexpected turn- 

The bed was empty that following morning. The only trace of Beomgyu were the rustled sheets where he’d slept. Wait him sleeping over says so much wtf - 

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. HEEEEEYYY BABY 

“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. Do you not miss him’ is like such a perfect question- like she knows what its like to lose beomgyu as a friend and what does it mean if the ones who replaced you dont feel it when hes gone like did he really change or was he doing things to just get hurt by people he wanted to be around more than her you know like thats wild- and yeonjun just going on about him bringing her down like evil evil evil 

“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. Sttttttooooppp i love them sm this is wild- 

“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. But what if his love language is gift giving- 

“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 know what hes right lmao they both acted up ALSO I LOVE A CONFESSION WITH THE WORD HATE IN IT SO MANY TIMES ITS JUST PERFECTION- 

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?”  ugh the winter setting and the casual question like i love it sm its not even funny anymore- 

“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. STOP IT STOP IT THE GIFTS BEING THE SAME BUT NOT LIEK HER GETTING THE RED ONE FOR HERSELF THINKING SHE LOST HIM LIKE NO AND STILL GETTING HIM BACK AND HIM BRINGING HER THE ONE HE BROKE NO- 

“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. Them having a piece of each other im going to jump rn my heart ;-;-;-

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. STOP HIM KNOWING AND WEARING THE BRACELET AND YEONJUN NOTICING UGH- 

“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.  I actually love the way that this ended with their friendship in a full circle way- we know that one of beomgyus main troubles is friendship obviously like he goes in and out of them and for the first time i think even of his own doing of staying away he got to see what it was like for reader a bit :p but this coming back and everything to him just chilling with yeonjun is so perfect like i love this like you dont get it- thank you sm serene for this fic i know it wasnt for me lol but i mean thank you for sharing it i love it sm!!! I felt so many things and ill never forgive you for the i love you part like thats crazy youre crazy- but you know what i love angsty stuff so this was perfect- 

[miupow]

I need more crave beomgyu thoughts so bad. He’s so scary but fine 😭😩. Imagine him cumming and breeding you for hours using you like a sex toy and not letting any of the other members join at all. He’s not going to admit but he’s secretly grown a soft spot for you himself

i couldn't stop myself...

CRAVEVERSE ; werewolf!beomgyu headcanons ⭑𓂃

cw ⸝⸝ sfw + nsfw hcs .ᐟ werewolf!bg (and werewolf!rest of txt) , fem!reader , no dark content warning for these hcs but general dark content warning for crave as an au lol. breeding kink, knotting, unprotected sex, possessive behavior, creampies, dirty talk, general craveverse nastiness

SFW ;

-> middle child syndrome crave!gyu who is always arguing with his brothers about the dumbest, littlest things lol. especially soobin and yeonjun he loves pissing them off

-> crave!gyu who is the packs baby so he can get away with being an absolute menace ! his brothers always there to defend him and tell you that “it’s just beomgyu, he doesn’t mean anything by it.. “ when he says something particularly nasty or pushes you around. just enabling him tbh

-> crave!gyu who secretly loves to be taken care of!! loves when you dote on him, play with his hair, mend his clothes and cook him meals, he turns into such a sweet puppy!! gets all blushy when you do something special for him or give him special attention <3 a little tsundere about it hehe

-> crave!gyu who has the best sense of smell in the pack, can track down scent trails like a bloodhound, can sense slight changes in a persons mood just by the way they smell. can always tell when you’re upset even when you’re hiding it!! and if he’s not the reason you’re sad,.. he will find out who is and he’ll make them regret it!! fully “no one is allowed to bully y/n except me!!!”

-> crave!gyu who enjoys collecting trinkets he finds in the woods or in the outskirts of human villages. pretty stones, antlers and bones, human items like spoons or can openers, reminds him of his childhood as a human (lore??) likes brining you little gifts he finds while telling you it’s definitely not because he’s thinking about you or anything. because you’re definitely not on his mind 24/7… but he found a very pretty flower on his walk and he wants you to have it.

-> crave!gyu who is touch starved beyond belief omg ,, can’t get enough of your touch once you give it to him. always wanting to cuddle, rest his shaggy head on your chest, have you run your fingers through his long messy hair. growls at the others when they try to take you away from him :3

-> crave!gyu who hides the fact that he’s jealous of the others because you trust them, are comfortable around them and not with him.. especially yeonjun. gets even more argumentative and disrespectful with him because of it.

-> overall crave!gyu who is a big sweet puppy beneath all of his hardships and defenses, gets broken down little by little until he just wants to love and be loved. he thought he would never trust a human again, would never learn to love one… but you are the only exception.

-> and finally crave!gyu who secretly wants more than anything for you to turn, join their pack as another wolf !! wants that connection with you that only the moon could give him.. you would be a proper pack then.

NSFW ; (under the cut!)

-> crave!gyu who has the roughest ruts of them all, a turned wolf instead of a blood one like his brothers are. (kai is technically only a half wolf but it’s uh. it’s a long story) he just gets so aggressive and violent , needs to be locked up like a prisoner otherwise he’ll destroy furniture, try to kill the others, keep you captive and not let anyone else near you !! especially can’t be around you … all he can think about is getting you away from the others and getting you full of his babies !

-> crave!gyu who insists that you’re just a disposable toy outside of rut but when he’s in rut, suddenly you’re his mate, his omega, his his his.

-> crave!gyu who won’t share you with anyone if he can have a say in it! who has to leave the farmhouse if you’re “with” one or more of his brothers because he just can’t stand to sit around and listen!!! you sound so pretty when you get knotted, that should be him dammit!!!!

-> crave!gyu who loves to leave nasty love bites all over your skin <3 down your neck, shoulders, especially your breasts and tummy!! never hard enough to hurt, but enough to bruise pretty purple so everyone can see~

-> crave!gyu who loves to spit the nastiest shit about his packmates when he’s breeding you good, he fucks you better than yeonjun does, doesn’t he? his cock hits deeper in your tummy than taehyuns does, huh? his knot is thicker than kais is, isn’t it? he satisfies you better than any of them could, right? chose him love him pick him omg (it’s a facade he’s very insecure)

-> crave!gyu who gets cuddly after he’s filled you up, likes to nuzzle into your neck and hold you close :( won’t let you go anywhere until he’s fallen asleep and you can slip away