☂︎ beomgyu has always been your comfort, your shoulder to cry on, your safe space after a long day. today, however, you need him in more ways than just one
warnings: SMUT! fluff, comfort, reader's situationship is lousy, bottled emotions, venting, crying, making out, dry humping, fingering, oral (f!rec), begging, overstimulation (i apologize in advance), hair pulling, dirty talk, possessiveness (sorta), wee bit of a size kink, nicknames: (baby, angel), roomates to ???
wc: 7.4k!
scznote: this was supposed to be fluffy, but i got carried away >< i was listening to brent faiyaz - rehab (winter in paris) whilst writing it! enjoy, my lovelies! :3
at last, you get to return home
the cab is warm, toasty air circulating through the small space, mildly soothing the bite you feel stinging your toes and fingertips
your eyes trace the small droplets racing down the foggy windows, the drizzle outside casting the city overhead in hues of cold greys and greens. the street glistens through the perspiration, the glitter of neon lights dancing with life
your driver hums upon the feminine voice streaming through his speaker, fingers tapping rhythmically on the leather covering his steering wheel. "what's for dinner?"
the smile in his voice is unmistakable, giddy as he awaits his wife to relay their menu tonight to his eager self. you don't stifle your smile when she teases, "it's a surprise! just you make sure you get home safe!"
they exchange a few more sweet nothings and playful banter and your chest hollows. you will the sudden weight away. you wonder if anyone will ever smile at the sound of your voice the way he does hers
the car comes to a stop right in front of your apartment building, the man next to you still grinning from ear to ear
"you have yourself a good evening, dear!" he says in a singsong voice, flashing you an easy smile as you step out of the vehicle
"thank you, sir! take care!" you muse in return, getting out and opening up your umbrella, shutting the door before jogging to the gate, even quicker once you enter and reach the lobby doors
droplets cascade down your umbrella as you fold it shut once inside the building, exhaling as your shoulders and limbs finally relax. you make your way up to your apartment, opting for the stairs after maintenance announced several problems with the elevator this morning alone
the warmth inside your apartment greets you the second you step inside. the smell of clean linen and vanilla envelopes you as you set down your bags and prop your umbrella by the door. you take off your heeled boots, massaging your sore soles before moving further into the space. a tall, hooded figure emerges from the kitchen and you nearly jump out of your skin
"still get a fright after all this time?" he chuckles amused at your frazzled state, walking over and pulling you into a warm embrace
the bear hug beomgyu has you wrapped in is almost suffocating and you sigh contentedly as you melt in his arms. everything else seems to be forgotten when your mind finally quiets and you whine when he pulls back
he sees the fatigue tugging at your eyes and his warm hands cup your face, thumbs caressing gently over your cheeks
"go warm up. the shower's ready for you", he prompts quietly, comfort washing over you in delicate waves. he always seems to know exactly what you need before you do
you simply nod in his hold, reluctantly untangling yourself from his hold and making your way to the bathroom. you strip your clothes off, piece by piece, weight by weight, before stepping into the shower. the steam curls around your body, the steady stream washing away all burdens of the day – though only for a little while
"i don't think i can do this anymore, y/n"
the words flicker in your mind. a text message, that text message. after a year and then some of wooing your heart and making you believe he wanted more, he ended it all with a text message
"i'm just not ready for anything serious yet"
you should have known, you tell yourself. you should have listened to your heart, to your gut, your goddamn logic. deep down, you had always known it would come to this. you sigh heavy, willing away the ache in your heart and the faint sting of tears behind your eyes, numbing away at your soul
a melody flows from the living room. gyu
the thrum of his guitar, a familiar song – your favorite song, floats through the space, settling into your bones and your soul, bringing every thought to a halt
you finish your shower quickly, lathering yourself in your skincare and moisturizers before slipping into your cozy pajamas. following the trail of music, your feet carry you back to the living room and you simply stand in the hallway, watching him. his hair, soft and silky, falls over his eyes, gaze fixated on the guitar in his lap. his fingers dance over and pluck at the strings, effortless and hypnotic
his head lifts upon noticing your presence, a soft smile gracing his pretty features. it's unfair, really, just how breathtaking he is. "what's for dinner?" he asks, voice warm and boyish and suddenly you're transported back to the cab. this is why you couldn't wait to come home
you reciprocate his smile, making your way to the kitchen. "i didn't get us anything on the way back, sorry gyu. but i thought i'd make us ramen! i don't think we've run out just yet"
the tune comes to an end and you hear shuffling from behind you, tall figure leaning against the kitchen doorway. "that's okay, honestly. i've been craving your ramen all day anyway"
you allow for a chuckle to escape you while gathering all of your ingredients, setting up and getting dinner started
beomgyu watches you move around the kitchen in silence, eyes trailing after your busied frame. he's not blind. he's caught onto the fact that something's been bothering you the minute you stepped through that front door. he has always been unnervingly in tune with you. this is what you enjoy about living with beomgyu most. he knows when to remain quiet, knows how to read you. if anything, he seems to know what you need at all times
apparently, he knows all the right questions to ask, too
"long day?"
"yeah", you answer absentmindedly, stirring at the simmering pot. he steps closer, leaning against the counter right next to you
"tell me about it", he presses carefully and you sigh, that weight returning to your chest, tugging at your shoulders. beomgyu's arms fold and unfold, fingers curling around the edge of the counter, itching to reach out to you as you begin to open up
you fill him in on how things between you and your– god, he wasn't even your boyfriend. fling? situationship? lover? have been icky for the past month. that you started texting back and forth last night, because you got fed up with his no-shows to dates, his refusal to commit and then his random calls late at night, telling you how much he's missed you. you grew sick of his inconsistency, tired and fed up with being strung along and you finally asked when he was truly planning on making things official with you – which resulted in an argument and said text message
that was that
then at work: the printer jammed. again. the coffee machine broke down. again. as always, you received the blame, one of your coworkers patting you on the shoulder, whispering a thanks for taking one for the team after you were reprimanded by your supervisor to be more "mindful"
"kai's the only one who believed me. in fact, he felt so sorry for me, he bought me coffee on his break", you continue and beomgyu listens attentively through all of it
"and then earlier in the cab, with the driver. you know i usually take the backseat, but there was this massive bouquet taking over the entire space", you gesture with your hands. "a bouquet of flowers. i got sad over a bouquet of flowers the man had bought for his wife, beomgyu"
his eyes flit over your face, taking in the sadness that seeps through the mask of tough stoicism you've been wearing all day
"i don't know, it just felt like– something was taken away from me, something i never even had. and now i feel silly for feeling that way and that i allowed this to go on for so long"
you continue to stir at the pot, glancing up when his silence stretches on
"that's… a lot, y/n. fuck, i'm so sorry", he starts, voice thick with emotion and sympathy. "i know you spent so long pining for this guy, that you convinced yourself things were going somewhere. i didn't see this coming either. i just assumed he was like, really fucking slow to catch onto how much you liked him. of all the guys before, i really thought this one would be different. it sucks that you wanted different things"
the quiet baritone, paired with his understanding chips away at the walls you've built to keep the rest of the world out today. he retrieves two bowls from the shelf right next to his head – the shelf you usually have to stand on your tippy toes to reach
it's hard to miss the disappointment that clouds his expression. beomgyu has always rooted for your relationships, always wanting to see you happy. he loathes the thought of you silently begging for some guy's attention, especially when he's watched you give yourself away so easily, only to receive so little in return
he decides that reassurance is the best thing he can offer you right now
"second, those assholes at work have nothing better to do with their time. they don't know a thing about taking responsibility. it's not your fault the printer broke or the coffee machine failed", he huffs. "i'm glad i texted kai to check on you. you didn't even say goodbye to me this morning. honestly, you deserve a medal for how well you held up today"
of course he texted kai, you smile to yourself, dishing up the ramen. it's steaming hot and the aroma makes your tummy rumble
"thanks, gyu. i honestly don't know what i'd do without you"
you mean it. the statement comes with weight and your chest warms when he pats the top of your head. "and kai, of course", he quips
"yeah, sure, kai", you muse. he's surprisingly humble about it and you're mildly amused that he's willing to share his saviour spotlight
he now stands on the other side of the kitchen island, after collecting two pairs of chopsticks, handing yours to you. his palms rest on the counter as he looms over you – your elbows resting on the shared surface, looking up at him
"so, how do we fix today? what's your ideal friday night look like?"
your chin comes to rest in your palm and you hum, "this bowl of ramen. the couch. you, playing your guitar or just us watching our show until we get too sleepy and we have our little sleepover right in the living room", you finish, batting your lashes at him
he pretends to ponder over your proposal, before his eyes settle on yours once more. "stay in tomorrow morning and do it all over again on saturday evening?"
you sigh dreamily, "you get me"
his smile broadens at your approval. "sounds like a plan"
he grabs both of your bowls, gesturing for you to move to the living room where you settle cozy on the couch, opting to put on your show. your yapping doesn't stop. he tells you about his day, about the errands he had to run and how he now prefers work meetings online instead of the ones in person. you tell him about your day, at least now, only the parts that were good. you talk and laugh for hours until your tummies are full and your bowls are empty
you watch as he drapes the two of you in your fluffy lounge blanket. the lamp in the corner of the room casts an amber glow over the otherwise dim space and you scoot closer to him
the space between you shrinks, it always does. only now, you don't have to remind yourself to keep your distance. not that you ever had to, you were never a taken woman anyway. you allow yourself to melt into his warmth, stealing glances at him between scenes of your show
he's beautiful, you've always known it. you've never concealed it either, always making sure to let him know. the smug smile that'd grace his gorgeous features is worth it every single time
only, it really strikes you now. he's devastatingly handsome, painfully so
his head is tipped back against the backrest, eyes dark and low, focused on the screen. he tugs and worries at his bottom lip with his teeth, something evidently still weighing on his mind
that's only because he knows that it's still lingering on yours
"you're not silly for feeling the way you feel. you deserve someone who's certain about you. always have"
you blink out of your daze as his voice cuts through your thoughts. "huh?"
his head turns toward you, eyes flickering over your face, taking you in, reading you – always reading, always checking in. "you weren't silly for wanting more, y/n. he lead you on, knowing what you wanted. hell, he even introduced you to his parents as a friend", he scoffs, almost in disbelief. "you have every right to be upset. you're not wrong for expecting more"
"i should've known better. i should have walked out sooner", you counter and he shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing
"you couldn't have. he ticked all the boxes, said all the right things, did all the right things. how could you have known?" his hand brushes your hair away from your face, gently. "you deserve mutual effort, y/n. commitment. i've watched you put your heart on the line over and over again. and i know it only took you this long to walk away, because you had hope. you always do. and that's not a bad thing, never a bad thing"
he's word vomiting, but you don't mind, taking in everything he says like your life depends on it
"you're so strong for never giving up. for always taking the leap and giving it another shot at love, opening yourself up even when you've been hurt so many times before. you always carry on. that's what i admire most about you, y/n. and i'm so fucking sorry you never received any of that in return"
tears well in your waterline, eyes flitting between his. "gyu", you breathe – his words having struck somewhere deep, a space you've tucked away from the rest of the world. you can barely speak with the lump that's formed in your throat and you don't even realize that the tears have spilled over until he catches them with his thumb
it's the first time you're allowing yourself to cry about this. fuck, you didn't want to
you knew it was coming, you'd known for months and you were in denial. he wasted a year of your time. all of them wasted years of your time. you had wished and prayed that this time around it wouldn't just end up being another set of empty promises and heartbreak – and you find yourself thinking that if you didn't have beomgyu you'd be blaming it all on yourself, that you'd pick yourself apart and wonder what you did wrong
you hadn't said any of these things to him, he just knew
he can't bear watching you hurt, the lump in his own throat thickens as he reaches out to you
"c'mere"
you don't protest, you simply let him guide you, climbing into his lap, knees settling on either sides of his hips. he holds you while you cry into his shoulder, allowing you to break, to let it all out. the frustration from this one-sided relationship, the frustration from work. you sniffle and sob and he allows you to just feel – something you've always been able to do only around him
what no one sees in moments like these is when his hand cards through your hair, humming when you soften into his touch. "you're okay, y/n. i'm here. take all the time you need"
you cry until you can't anymore, letting his voice and his warmth soothe you before drawing back
your teary eyes are reddened, lashes soaked and glossy and a flush colours your cheeks as you continue to sniffle. your faces are mere inches apart and beomgyu finds the sight of you one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen, torn between doting on you and wanting to take your pain away
large warm hands come up to cup your face, wiping the remainder of your tears away. "better?" he asks, tucking your hair behind your ears before smoothing over your hair. you shake your head no, shifting in his lap and he frowns in concern
"i'm not thinking about him anymore, but– i don't know why it still hurts. i just want it to go away. i didn't think it would hurt this much", you admit, glassy eyes finding his – pleading with him. "beomgyu, please"
everything goes still. only the sound of rain pitter-pattering against the window, your show barely audible in the background and his and yours steady breaths echo through the space
you don't know what you're pleading for, you just know that it's him that you need – something, anything to take away the ache that lingers
something shifts in beomgyu
"shh", he hushes you, thumb tracing along your bottom lip. "let me take care of you"
your heart's pounding in your chest, breath faltering as you avert your gaze. you cannot bear to look at him. the look in his eyes far too disarming to wrap your head around right now. "beomgyu, i–"
his hand catches your chin, bringing your gaze back to his. "i hate seeing you like this, y/n. let me make it better. let me help. tell me what you need." he needs to hear you say it. his eyes flicker between yours, searching – adams apple bobbing as he swallows when your eyes fall to his lips
"kiss me", you whisper, afraid that if you spoke any louder, he'd come to his senses and change his mind – no
all he needed was your permission
you hear and watch him curse under his breath. his tongue licks along the backs of his bottom teeth, hesitating for just a second before his hand slides to your nape, drawing you in until your lips connect
you sigh against each other, eyes fluttering shut. your hands on his shoulders grip at the material of his hoodie. his lips are plump and tender against yours, soft smacks sounding between you. his arm hugs tighter around your waist, the other threading through your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. soft whimpers spill into his mouth and he swallows them all greedily
you're flush against him, you know it, but still your body compels you to move closer. the stirring only makes you shift on his lap and your breath hitches when you feel the outline of him beginning to harden beneath you
he grunts against your lips, brows knitting together. the sound makes your stomach flip, rough and strained with a growing desire. the hand in your hair relaxes, allowing you to pull back and you find that you're both panting. his eyes that were previously soft and full of concern now carry a brewing darkness, lips parted and swollen, drawing in labored breaths
another intoxicating kiss is placed on your lips and your eyes flutter shut. "let me", he almost begs as your lips chase his, "let me make it better", hand drifting between your bodies. his fingers curl around the waistband of your pajama pants, tugging gently. the graze of them against your tummy is ticklish as he teases up to your belly button again, repeating the motion
the band snaps back against your tummy and you gasp against his lips, giving in with a wordless nod
that's more than enough confirmation for beomgyu. his lips meet yours again, this time with more fervor. his tongue snakes out, teasing at your bottom lip before you offer him access – the hushed rhythm of lips and tongues against each other only becoming louder
good god, beomgyu is a good kisser. you find yourself wondering why you hadn't decided to do this sooner
the space between your thighs becomes sweltering hot, heat pooling low in your core. your hips seem to develop a mind of their own, rocking onto the growing hardness beneath you
the gravelly groan your actions pulls out of him makes you shiver. his hand, careful and confident, eases past the waistband of your pants slowly, palming intently over your panties
you whimper into his mouth again, hips chasing the slow pressure he applies to your cunt. you need this, need him to relieve the ache. he bites back another grunt when he realizes just how thoroughly you've soaked the material of your panties
"beomgyu, please" you beg again, breathless
his lips migrate to your jaw and then your neck, sucking gently on the skin of your throat, enough to form the faintest bruise. you sigh blissfully when his hand finally slips into your panties, fingers dragging languidly through the wetness gathered at your folds, feeling you out
"fuck, you're so wet", he rasps, low and disbelieving
a finger teases around your entrance, collecting more of your arousal and you tremble when he trails the digit up to your aching bundle of nerves – right to where you need him most
he circles and caresses the little bud in a manner that makes your breathing falter, melting into him. your hips roll deeper in his lap, more insistent along the prominent length of him. he drinks in every reaction, every furrow of your brows, every needy gasp and small sigh, the grip of your hands tightening on his hoodie
every coherent thought comes to a halt while he toys with your dripping cunt like this – thumb, index and middle fingers working to numb you with pleasure, leaving you lightheaded
you watch his eyes darken when he circles around your entrance again, pushing past the sopping opening and stretching you perfectly. he shifts lower on the couch, broadening his manspread as he slides in knuckle-deep, exhaling shakily when one of your hands migrates to his hair
"how long has it been, a year?" he drawls, voice dropped an octave, sending another shiver down your spine. your brain short-circuits at his change in tone, involuntarily tightening around his long fingers. "he never made you cum, did he? my poor baby", he huffs followed by a mocking chuckle, knowing smirk tugging at his lips
he works you open slowly and you can barely piece together a response, only able to gasp and paw at him
"couldn't even take care of you properly. none of them fucking could. tell me, baby, did any of them make you feel this good?"
beomgyu presses deeper, hooking, curling, searching for that one spongy spot and all you can do is manage a shake of your head
"no?" he scoffs, a possessiveness creeping into his voice. "none of them deserved you, angel. i'll make you forget all about them, make up for all the times you had to come home and finish yourself off alone"
the gasp his words rip from your throat is nothing short of scandalized, moaning out when he finds that spot at the front of your walls, hooking and stroking ruthlessly against it. you hadn't realized he'd heard every little sound, every time you— the grin he sports is self-satisfied and cocky, stretching across his face when your eyes meet his. your pussy sucks him in so needily, pulsing and fluttering pathetically
"g-gyu—" you whimper as he keeps at your sweet spot, his assault torturous and deep, thumb swiping deliciously over your clit, determined to draw more sweet sounds from you
his name has never sounded better, he decides. your walls clench helplessly around his fingers and it's with mortification that you realize he's bringing you to the edge embarrassingly fast
god, of course he's good with his hands. you watch him play guitar all the time. you cannot count the amount of times you've willed away thoughts of what it'd feel like if he were doing those things to your pussy instead, toying with you and strumming your cunt the way he does his strings
"you're so good at this", you breathe, whining when he speeds his relentless motions, suctioning squelches of your wetness making your cheeks burn, making him throb violently in his pants. "yeah? need more?" he teases, voice impossibly deep
you've heard his morning voice hundreds of times before, but it never sounded anything like this. when you'd have sleepovers in this very living room, you: tucked in on one couch, him: tucked in on the other. you'd stir awake and find sleepy brown eyes already staring back at you from the couch diagonal to yours. he'd chuckle at the little groans you'd let out while stretching, voice taunting you when you squint at the sunlight. "morning, sleepyhead", he'd rasp, resisting the urge to move over to where you're cuddled just to snuggle you to death
no, this time there's an unrestricted want to his low register, a hunger and a desperation that he can barely conceal. it's sexy and sultry and it has your sex weeping with more arousal for him, dripping down his palm and between his fingers
you finally manage another whimper, "yes, please" and he gives you what you need instantaneously, without hesitation or further delay
the squelches that sound from between your thighs become more lewd, your squirming and whining only egging him on. he's lethal with his motions – your eyes flutter shut, pretty whimpers and moans of his name tumbling from your lips uncontrollably
he grunts and hisses through his teeth as though your pleasure is his own and you can't think of anything else, orgasm catching up to you quick, grip flimsy around his arm
"angel, you're already so close", he says in that condescending lilt. "fuck– wanna see you fall apart for me"
you never imagined you'd be doing this with him
beomgyu – the man who sleeps in the bedroom across the hall, who you've grown so close to in the blink of three years, since you moved in
the same voice that would soothe your spiraling with words of affirmation, was now talking you through an orgasm. the same hands and fingers that would toy with his guitar, were now playing with you. the same man who you purposely avoided fantasizing about, was now filling your mind only with white hot pleasure
your body climbs and climbs and the band in your core tightens rapidly, almost too much pleasure to bear or handle
"beomgyu, wait– slow down– f-fuck-!"
your pathetic pleas only seem to encourage him, dead-set on making you cum. it's a determination you never saw from that man – and every other man before him – who had kept you waiting
he pumps and curls his merciless fingers right into your sweet spot with mouthwatering precision, doubling his efforts and his lazy rotations on your clit when he feels your walls spasm and clamp around him
"let go, baby. let me feel this pretty little pussy cum"
that does it. your body seizes as pleasure consumes you, bursting and flooding from your core in molten pools of ecstasy, pushing up your lungs until you have no choice but to cry out, hands holding onto him for dear life
you sound even better up close, he marvels to himself. so much better when it's all meant for him, because of him
he seems to feed off of your pleasure, sultry moans and drawn out hisses deepening every pulse and throb between your thighs, amplified with your hips rolling and twitching in his lap
you're shaking – you don't even realize you're shaking until he's slowing his fingers just the way you need, watching and drinking in your every reaction like a hawk, pupils dilated with devastating hunger. "so perfect, angel. that was so fucking hot"
you focus on gathering your breath, fucked out and dizzy when your lips find his. he meets you much more eagerly, reeling you into a consuming kiss. he carefully withdraws his glistening fingers
his hands on your thighs are large, warm and grounding and your arms snake around his neck
a deep whimper escapes him when you experimentally move your hips, dick throbbing painfully under your weight. his lips migrate down to your jaw and then your neck, tongue and teeth teasing and nipping at the flesh – sending tingles straight down to your center
"fuck baby, don't do that unless you want more", he murmurs against the skin there and you grind down again
"don't want to stop", you mumble wantonly. his grip on your thighs and waist tightens at that
"yeah? need me to make you do that again?"
"please", you beg, breath hitching when he flips you over effortlessly, his lips back on yours. the room fills with the sound of your heavy breathing, your lips and tongues colliding and the rustling of clothes
he tugs your pajama pants off, leaving you in only your shirt and he smirks at the sight of your lacy panties. you're drenched, the material darkened and soaked through. lithe fingers peel them off and pride swells in his chest when you part your thighs for him eagerly
beomgyu can't believe his eyes, the sight of you before him almost surreal
it dawns on him now: he's got his pretty roommate under him like this, begging for his touch – you look fucking breathtaking too, irresistible – cunt leaking with arousal, winking at him seductively. it's the prettiest thing beomgyu's ever seen and he wants to commit this to memory
"still dripping for me. pussy's so fucking pretty, baby"
his tongue traces the backs of his teeth again, like he's weighing something. "he ever eat you out?" he voices the thought after a beat, gaze locked on your sex
the question makes you stammer. "i, well– he never offered so i just never bothered to ask…" the last bit of your sentence is mumbled, embarrassed. you hear him tsk, a scowl forming on his face. hell, you probably haven't been fucked properly in over a year, he thinks. what a fucking loser
he lowers himself over you once more, lips back to ghosting over your nape
"gonna let me taste this pussy, make it all mine? gonna let me eat you out?" he asks gruff right against your ear, taking your lobe between his teeth. "hm?"
your core aches when his warm breath tickles the delicate skin
"y-yes", you cave, craving more, high on all of his undivided attention on you
"that's my baby. all ready and needy for me", he kisses you there before he moves lower, bunching up your shirt to reveal your tummy. starved kisses and swipes of his tongue paints a scorching little path down the skin, hands mapping along the curve of your waist
you part your thighs even wider, peering down at him and you catch him wetting his lips with his tongue as he stares at your cunt, more apparent when a hand brushes his hair out of his eyes
you're quite nervous. you haven't had someone this close down there in a long time – well, other than your gynecologist. you feel completely exposed under his hungry gaze, the intensity of the darkness lingering there making you want to shy away
and yet, you've never felt so carnally and primally desired before
greedy, eager hands trace possessively on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. the torture and anticipation is enough to drive you mad
"gyu", you whine which only makes him snicker smugly. his teasing finally shifts to your center, the backs of his lithe fingers circling over your folds. the little wet noises make him groan in his chest
unable to resist any longer, he places an indulgent kiss right on your clit. your hips push up, chasing his mouth. the filthy, shit eating grin that pulls at his mouth only makes the burn in your abdomen hotter, fanning the flame of your excruciating, growing need
he's panting, a dead giveaway that he's just as desperate for this as you are
he has half the mind to make you beg for it. no, he'll save that for later
his lips ghost over you, tongue snaking out to tease over your pulsing little bud before wrapping his lips around it, wasting no time to begin sucking and licking at it with a muffled groan
your mind instantly blanks, tummy tightening and releasing and your hands fly to his hair as he eats you out with fervor, purpose, urgency – sinful mouth drawing shaky moans and gasps from your lips. everything feels tingly and overwhelming, but soon you're craving more, drowned in his devotion
goddamn, no one's ever had you writhing on their tongue like this, with so much determination
beomgyu's on a mission – low grunts and moans vibrating through your cunt and it's enough to make you squeal – like he's getting his own fill, deriving pleasure from the act of tasting you alone
you look over his shoulders and catch sight of his hips bucking into the couch cushion, absentminded ruts to relieve the ache of his throbbing cock
holy shit, that's the hottest, most depraved thing you've ever seen in your life
your broken cries and sobs grow needier and more shameless when he cups his hands around your thighs and ass, lifting you off the couch and onto his mouth like a starved man given his first meal, burying his face deeper between your thighs
"beomgyu– slow down, you–"
you're stumbling over your words, head lulling back while he only continues to work his tongue and lips over you with insatiable demand. you don't even think he can breathe, effortlessly lifting you against his mouth like a ragdoll
you're close again, so, so close – and it dawns on you that beomgyu is about to make you cum on his tongue
you've never cum on a man's tongue before. the realization makes your pulse spike, nervous and hesitant all the like
his sexy, sultry grunts and moans into your pussy only become more obscene when your hands tug harder on his hair, borderline lewd and shameless. his fingertips dig into your skin, tongue working faster, hungrier, switching between speedy flicks and swirls at your clit and dipping into the warmth of your walls
you lower your gaze and your breath hitches. his gaze – it's so intense, pinning and ravenous and it makes you clench and pulse around nothing, cunt fluttering hopelessly against his skilled tongue
"g–gyu, i'm gonna–"
he doesn't let you finish the sentence, doubling down and your hand slams down and grips at the couch cushion, nails raking along the velvet fabric
your thighs quiver and you whimper, louder and wilder than you've ever been before, heat and pleasure bursting from your core – so powerful, your ears ring and your vision blurs
everything is hot, too hot and you claw at the blanket beneath you before beomgyu tosses it to the floor
slicky arousal and cum coats and drips down his chin while you arch, sobbing when he doesn't let up. he draws back, only to take a deep breath before diving in again
the gasp you let out is but a shrill little sound that only fuels the hungry man feasting on your pussy, devouring you – thighs closing around his head to which he only pries them back open, pinning you down onto the plush of your couch this time
you wail, desperately trying to squirm away from his mouth. "f-fuck, beomgyu–! wait, i–"
he only grunts in response, tongue stroking deeper, eyes shut blissfully, his jaw working with the motion as he makes out with your cunt
fucking hell, beomgyu is a lot stronger than you thought he was
of course, you've always handed him the jars that were too stubborn to open and asked for his help with lifting heavy furniture when you're deep cleaning. he always wordlessly takes heavy grocery bags out of your hands whenever you shop together for the apartment – but fuck, this is different. you're trapped and helpless under his grip, unable to break free from his gluttonous, ruinous torture
his tongue drags up through your folds, slurping at your entrance to drink down another mouthful your sweetness, juices dripping more obscenely down his chin. your pleas seem to fall on deaf ears, the man between your thighs positively pussy drunk – lapping and suctioning around your bud like it's his mouth's only purpose
it's too much, you chant to yourself, eyes squeezed shut
"gyu, i'm- wait", you yank hard on his hair, successfully pulling him up. his gaze finds yours, incredulous and blown out with predatory hunger while his sinful tongue swipes and cleans at his lips
you squeeze around nothing, pussy aching the longer you stare at his stupidly gorgeous face
he seems to still be consumed with lust and need, mouth latching onto the skin of your neck. "said i'd make you forget, make you feel good. why won't you let me?"
a hand finds your slicked clit, circling the little bundle of nerves with the pads of his fingers and your mouth drops open, hips lifting into his touch against your will. he has you bowing off the velvety surface, toes curling with just how painfully delicious it feels
"see, baby? you can take a little more"
beomgyu's high on the power trip he's getting off of your surrender. you just moan so pretty and pliant and his fingers speed up, caressing and gliding over you without mercy. his chest brims with dangerous, unspoken pride when your hand clutches around his wrist
"i already came, you– oh my god"
he grunts in disapproval and presses harder, faster – slipping down to your entrace to collect more of your cum to make the slide wetter, louder, more lewd
"won't you just take a little more for me? hm?"
fuck fuck fuck, he's licking, kissing, sucking at the skin of your neck, just like he did your pussy. it's enough to rob you of all coherent thought
his hand momentarily withdraws from you. you sigh with relief, chest heaving and cunt aching with a longing you're unfamiliar with
he tugs on the waistband of his sweats until his dick is freed and it slaps heavy against your lower tummy once out of its confines
you gasp – it's warm, heavy and hard and it leaks with copious beads of precum against your skin. he coats the length with your juices, the schlick sounds making you moan and clench around nothing
you're surprised your body hasn't had enough, that your core still longs for more – fucked out and easily trained into submission and pliance just for him
you don't have much time to ponder. he presses the meaty length right between your folds, sliding right up against your clit. the friction only registers as intoxicating to your hazy mind, overstimulation adding to your delirium
he uses his thumb to press the heavy weight of him further down, bulbous head gliding up and down your slit, resuming the same pace of his fingers as before. prominent veins pulse beneath the velvety skin, unable to help himself as he pushes up over and over again. his hips drive forward, pistoning like he's really inside of you, the couch beneath you shaking with vigor
depraved whimpers and grunts spill from both your mouths, too far gone to hold back
he kisses up to your ear, voice a low rasp right against it
"fuck, look at you. my pretty angel, fucked stupid on my cock and i haven't even fucked you properly yet" – he's rambling mindlessly again, beastly with his grip on one of your thighs. "you wish i was inside you, huh? filling you up, stretching this pretty little cunt like you deserve"
"g–gyu–!"
you're beyond function, all other thoughts falling flat at the filth coming from his mouth – putty in his big, beautiful hands
"you feel me, baby? yeah? feel what you've done to me?"
you do, every last throbbing inch of him – and you squeeze and pulse uncontrollably around nothing, hips bucking up to meet his powerful thrusts
your hot, soaked pussy makes beomgyu feel crazy – soft, slippery warmth continuously leaking slick onto his cock, the slide between your thighs wet, filthy and rough. god, he wants to push inside of you so bad, sink into your warm, sopping walls to feel your cunt struggle to take him. he wants to fuck you until you can no longer think of anyone but him, until you're trembling and begging him for more, until you're completely and utterly stupid and the only man you'll want after tonight is him
god, you wish he would – you'd let him. he'd fill you up so good, you muse to yourself, telling by the way the fat tip of his cock grazes dangerously close to your belly button with the occasional punishing slip of him past your mound
his long, thick length slides up your pussy, pushing the entirety of it up your slit until his balls smack heavy against your glistening hole and ass
every rock and grind is filthier, messier. you're left panting and gasping for air, stomach muscles clenching. you're close again, nails biting into his skin through his hoodie, moans and sobs wanton and desperate
"gonna cum for me again, baby?" he prompts in that deep taunt that licks up your spine. you nod frantically, biting down on your bottom lip. "fuck, i'm close too. let go for me, wanna feel you soak my cock"
his teeth bite down on your neck and that does it. you gasp and let go, clutching tight onto his hoodie like you might float away if you don't
he follows soon after, moaning gutturally against your pulse while hot spurts of his cum paint your belly – an abundance of it too
your bodies pulse and spill and squeeze for what feels like forever, hips settling into deep grinds. your thighs squeeze tight around his hips, keeping him close
you don't realize tears have spilled down your temples until beomgyu pulls away, eyes returning to your face
"y/n? hey, look at me" he coaxes, cupping your face and your eyes open. "was it too much? was i too rough?" he asks carefully, eyes puppy-like searching yours
"no, you– i just– i've never–" never cum so hard before. hell, you can barely talk
your thighs and lower half are still quaking in the aftermath, cunt jumping with the slightest movement of him against you. he seems to catch on pretty quickly, that self-satisfied smirk pulling at his lips, hand brushing your hair away from your face
"shh, you did so well for me", he praises softly, placing a chaste peck on your forehead. "you're perfect". you're both coming down from the high, basking in the aftershocks, catching your breath. he huffs a breathless chuckle in disbelief. "shit y/n, that was–"
"amazing", you finish for him, body still buzzing, unable to fight the smile that tugs at your face
"yeah? did i fulfill your ideal friday night wishlist?" he asks, smugness softening
"you did. more than i asked for", your eyes flick between his. he can tell something weighs on your mind, so he waits – hands soothing over your skin, shielding you from the cold
"beomgyu, what does this make us?"
there it is – the question he was waiting for. you shift under him, nervous while he takes in the vulnerability that rests so evidently behind your eyes. his thumbs trace over your cheeks, sighing contently while he looks at you. he's equally as nervous – he just does a better job at masking it
"sleepover on the couch, then we talk it out?"
your heart instantly warms as you fight another smile. "how about sleepover in your bed? the couch is a mess and the other one's too small to fit both of us"
he sighs in relief, laughing sheepishly. "yeah? i was hoping you'd say that"
"yeah", you concede – humming when he steals another kiss, your arms hugging around his neck. "i'd like to be cleaned up too"
he smiles against you, "yes ma'am, that can be arranged", before he resumes his breath-stealing kiss
your heart eases, knowing that it's finally in good hands – and that you'll be just fine
because home is where beomgyu is
scz note: i have no words 0‐0 i need roommate gyu so bad. it's cold & rainy where i live rn, so i hope you enjoyed this little work of mine! let me know what you think about this one! ><
this was made for my perfect gorgeous loml serene @beomiracles <3 (sorry it took 2 months)
Sleeping with Beomgyu the first time? A mistake fuelled by rage and tequila. The second time? Annoyance and desperation — you stopped counting after the fourth. When your best friend finds his stupid hoodie in your bedroom you end it — not that he lets you anyways.
⤷ contains — ˎˊ˗ smut (three separate scenes), unprotected sex, angst, fluff, avoidant reader, they are both stupid, lots of kissing, marking, hair pulling, objectification, degrading, praise, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, semi public sex, fingering, oral (fem rec), face sitting, pet names (angel, sweetheart, slut, baby etc), implied bi!reader. probably alot more
thank you to my beautiful friends who sprinted w me for these writing sessions ilysm
scan here for group masterlist → 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 ˎˊ˗
You've always hated Beomgyu.
For many logical reasons.
He was arrogant, annoying and he always somehow knew every single button to push to piss you off.
Okay logical to you.
Objectively you knew he wasn't a bad person — despite you wishing he was so your dislike towards him would be valid to others.
You like to think of yourself as a rational person, you don't overreact to things, you're calm and collected.
There is just something about him that irks you.
Maybe it's the fact he's always around, like a fly buzzing around you slowly bringing you to the brink of insanity.
Unfortunately for you he was also inescapable.
Somehow despite being the most annoying, egotistical, competitive, immature person you know — his sister is the opposite.
Haeun — who you met on the first day of elementary school, after a random kid was pulled out of class for being disruptive the whole class was left unattended — chaos ensuing because what else happens when you leave twenty something kids with no supervision. Unlike the other kids who started shouting and being annoying.
Your focus was drawn to her — Staying silent in her seat, drawing.
Confused you walk over to her simply observing her — immediately forgetting why you went over there when you see her drawing something from your favourite show.
And the rest is history —
If only it was that easy though.
Because additionally — meeting your best friend, twin flame and person, came with the added bonus of someone who you truly believe was put on this earth to humble you.
The kid who got in trouble for being a pest? — Beomgyu, who always brings up the fact he caused you and Haeun to be friends and that you're basically indebted to him.
And because Haeun and Beomgyu were twins — he was constantly around.
Unfortunately.
Growing up he was there — always, every achievement he was right next to you and Haeun — because somehow your parents thought you three were inseparable, despite your multiple complains ending in your parents laughing at 'kids being kids.'
As you got older it only got worse.
Merging into your teenage years you thought he'd become less of a pest, focusing on himself more than pissing you off.
Wrong.
Beomgyu was smart — in a way where he didn't have to try too hard. Just naturally knowing the answers after barely paying attention in class.
Another reason you hated him.
While you work your ass off, studying for hours to get the best mark possible — he just knows.
When you offhandedly mentioned wanting to enter the science fair to Haeun, Beomgyu who has no interest in science joins purely to win instead of you.
And when you accidentally told him the wrong day of the math exam? Well you watched with the proudest grin when you were put first on the honours list instead of him.
You never knew what he was thinking about, whenever you retaliated and awaited his reaction he just smiled.
You were sure his sole existence is to drive you insane, and he does.
In all honesty you don't remember why you started disliking him, you just have — even before you got to know him you knew he was loud and bothersome.
The only reason you haven't strangled him is because of Haeun.
Because somehow.
Somehow.
He's amazing to Haeun.
It's like a shift — he'll be annoying you teasing you, then he's all nice to Haeun.
All things aside you can begrudgingly admit he's a good brother, watching out for her, always wanting the best for her.
They never had the phase of hating or bullying each other, he's always looked after her. Haeun told you multiple stories of him being amazing and nice.
You honestly admire him for being a good brother (unwillingly you admit it only in your subconscious mind).
It honestly pissed you off and made you dislike him more.
Because he's capable of it — you've seen him be amazing to Haeun, his friends — hell even people you know he hates, and to your knowledge you haven't done anything to him so why.
Is it just you he likes to endlessly pester and piss off.
The 'feud' if you can call it that was honestly harmless to both of you, no real damage done — just endlessly annoying each other.
Until it wasn't.
You'll admit now, you know what he did was an accident, or so everyone tells you.
You didn't even know what had happened, people in your class staring at you for seemingly no reason — until at lunch you get pulled aside by Taehyun.
Taehyun who you had a massive thing for.
You honestly didn't hear most of it — blood rushing to your cheeks, ears ringing in embarrassment. All you knew is that somehow he knew that you liked him. Now he was very nice letting you down but still.
The only time you ever admitted out loud that you liked him was at a sleepover — putting the pieces together that Beomgyu overheard.
After that it grew petty, purposefully doing shit you both knew would end badly.
It wasn't cruel or too far, you both seemingly knew where to draw the line.
It still wasn't nice.
Jokes that had edges to them you knew would affect the other. Petty things you both got in trouble for.
Whether it was him sabotaging your academics or you sabotaging whatever relationship he was in.
In university nothing changed.
Once after he told a rumour to the whole campus about you sleeping with a teacher for better grades, resulting in you having to drop your favourite class.
So when you got wind of Beomgyu being head over heels for this girl? The next week you're hard launching her on your stories to his favourite song.
Two weeks later he sends you a fucking 'hey girly' message which did make you chuckle but still! — pissed you off.
Okay maybe it started getting mean.
The only thing stopping you both from taking it too far is Haeun, forced to tolerate each other for her sake at least.
You truly think Beomgyu was put on this world punish you for past sins in previous lifetimes, to be a perpetual dull needle stabbing into your eyes and test your self control as to not end up in a jail cell.
Because if it was anyone else? You'd just ignore him, Unfortunately he's not anyone else.
He's the brother of your favourite person in the world, the one person whos seemingly able to calm both of your indifferences.
Haeun always said that you fight because you're alike, always getting a death glare from both of you.
Deep down you think shes right.
You don't think about it too deeply, you'd rather not get too psychological on the undeniable similarities between you and him, the thought of being like him honestly making you pissed off and offended at your own unconscious mind for suggesting you're like that fuckhead.
You've had a love hate relationship with parties, they're loud and usually held in a filthy frat house of someone you don't even know.
Always feeling like an extra in some sorority girls main character arc as you watch guys fighting like idiots, girls gossiping over who slept with who.
You loved however letting go of every ounce of sensibility with the excuse of alcohol, being able to blame mistakes and idiotic choices on the copious amounts of shots of the cheapest and highest percentage alcohol college students could legally find.
What you didn't like about that was how out of body you felt, the downside of all of that being the fact every choice you do make doesn't feel like your own, the inner monologue becoming your course of action whether you like it or not, your common sense on the sidelines shouting endlessly into the void.
Because unlike every other time, this one was at Beomgyu's place.
Haeun dragging you to the party, telling you the place was big enough to not run into him, and fortunately that was half true.
The place was huge, thanks to Beomgyu rooming with one of his rich friends whos parents pay the rent.
Unfortunately Haeun underestimates how much the universe hates you.
For the first hour or so it's fine, drinking playing party games with your friends, flirting shamelessly with random guys.
You don't notice Haeun left till you check your phone, seeing her tell you she had to go back to your apartment because her boyfriend was sick. You didn't really mind, if you were slightly more sober you would have been pissed she left you here of all places.
After an unfortunate run in with your ex, desperately trying to get away from him you try find any free room — bathroom? You don't wanna talk about who and what you heard in there.
Ending up in a room collapsing against the door. You don't really check your surroundings until you hear a cough. Opening your eyes — immediately landing on Beomgyu.
Because of course the first free room you enter is his.
"This is breaking and entering." He hums with a smirk bringing the cup of whatever liquid was out there to his lips.
Letting out a dry breathless laugh, leaning your head back against the door with a thud. "Of course you're here."
His voice dripping with arrogance, the subtle comments already ticking you off. "You're in my apartment? — uninvited by the way."
"Haeun dragged me along, wouldn't be here otherwise."
"You act as if this place has an infestation."
"It does, you."
He doesn't immediately reply to your last comment, looking at you for a moment before there is a banging on his door.
With an annoyed groan he gets up from his bed walking to the door about to open it, startled by you grabbing his hand your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not here." You say firmly your eyes glued to his.
Beomgyu cant help but grin, despite your silent pleas he opens the door, thankful you're hidden behind the door.
"Is y/n here?" Immediately recognising the voice to still, looking at Beomgyu's side profile as he also recognises who it is.
"Hm?" Feigning innocence as he looks your ex up and down. "Nah she wouldn't be caught dead here."
"I just saw her —"
"You didn't."
"I did —"
Cutting him off again with a grin. "You really didn't, maybe cool it on Kai's mixer, yeah?"
Before he can even respond he closes the door shut on him.
An audible sigh of relief escapes your lips when you suddenly are pulled back to reality.
Opening your eyes you're met with Beomgyu, smiling as if he won the best prize in existence.
"Anything you wanna say to me?"
"Not really."
"Not even — thank you Beomgyu! You're so awesome and handsome thank you for scaring away my evil ex!" He says an exaggerated tone, enjoying watching your eye twitch.
"Only one of those three things are correct." you resort, not immediately noticing when he gets closer to you.
"Yeah? Which one." He whispers with a grin, looking at you, enjoying your annoyed state.
"Drop dead." You say flatly, unimpressed.
"Cmon not even a thank you?" Close enough to where you can smell the faint traces of whatever flavoured vodka was out there.
You don't respond to him — you also don't pull away despite every rational part of you telling you to.
You cant tell if the room shifted from the close call with your ex or the way he's looking at you.
Or the way you're looking at him.
Both of you in no right mind, clearly.
"You barge into my room while I was peacefully drinking — bringing drama and a man child with you, not even asking for an apology just a thank you." His voice teasing, enjoying this too much, using all your might to bite back a comment.
"Peacefully drinking alone, at your own party — kinda pathetic really."
"I was escaping." He says quickly.
"Escaping what?" Replying instantly, turning the tables on him — smiling as you await his response.
"You."
Both of you shocked at his instant response.
"Glad I have that effect on you." you tease pushing him.
Unsure of how much time has passed, seconds, minutes — feels like it's been an eternity.
All you know is his eyes haven't left yours.
Now — you're drunk! you both are, not nearly in the right state of mind.
That's your excuse! as said earlier, sensibility is a mere bystander when drunk.
Neither of you know what you're doing but you know that this isn't supposed to be happening. Despite that, neither of you are making any move to stop.
"God — you're insufferable." You spit out, your voice breaking only making him grin.
"Then why are you still holding onto me." His words snapping you back — your fingers still clinging to his wrist from earlier.
"What? No quick response?" His voice dropping slightly, looking you up and down, watching as your breathing quickens.
"You're all talk yknow — the second something real happens you cave, you hide behind witty remarks but it's all bark no bite."
"Shut up."
"Make me."
Years of stupid fights, petty revenge and unresolved animosity pilled into a single kiss.
You don't know who started it, but everything else fades.
The taste of him taking over you — the cheap beer, flavoured vodka is all you can taste. His hands holding onto your face as if you'll disappear if he lets go. The kiss messy and unfocused, both of you too out of it to process whats really happening. Grabbing desperately onto each other, teeth clashing, heavily breathing into the kiss not pulling away to breathe properly.
Whatever he's mumbling into your mouth you don't register, your head foggy from the alcohol and him.
Not remembering how you ended up on his bed.
Definitely not remembering how you ended up naked.
Waking up in the morning you're immediately hit with a dull throb in your head, not just the back — the front the sides it's seeping down your body — fuck what happened.
Opening your eyes you see an unfamiliar ceiling.
You feel unfamiliar sheets on you — fuck are you naked.
Panic sets in as you try recalling last night — trying to make sense of anything — everything. Looking around the unfamiliar room, a tinge on recognition and remembrance.
Before you can even process your eyes snap to the door, Beomgyu.
Standing in the door frame pants hanging low on his waist, a smirk also gracing his lips as he looks at you.
Slowly it comes back to you — in blurred memories, your heart dropping to your stomach as you let out an exhale.
"No." You say simply your eyes running over the room, yourself — him.
He simply smiles deviously knowing you're panicking.
"Morning sleeping beauty." He says in a sing song voice — looking too smug for your liking, enjoying this too much.
"No." You reiterate, unable to say anything else as you process whats happening — what happened.
"Was last night so good I fucked the rest of your vocabulary out of you — doesn't really make sense though.. All you were saying was yess Beomgyuuu, harder Beomgyuuuu don't stop Beomg—" His exaggeration immediately cut off as you get off the bed cupping your hand over his mouth your eyes meeting his.
His eyes don't stay on yours for long, drifting down to your frame — your very naked frame. Groaning as you push his face to the side reaching down to the floor grabbing the blanket that fell, wrapping it around yourself.
"What did you do." You spit out through your teeth, shaking from a multitude of reasons because what the fuck.
"Wasn't just me, baby — though I did do most of the work, shouldn't have expected more from you 'course you're a princess —" He teases, his eyes still roaming your frame.
"God, do you shut up," you groan walking away from him, desperately trying to find your clothes from last night around his mess of a room.
Instead of retaliating like you expect he's just watching you, as you scurry around his room. When you find your clothes you don't even bother preserving your decency, dropping the blanket as you try to quickly put your clothes on.
You feel his eyes focused on you, the heat spreading across your body as you get dressed as quickly as possible.
As you stand up you look at him and for once you can't read him, which is infuriating — looking at him, all memories flooding back to you.
"This never happened." You say flatly and seriously, Beomgyu of course not ever taking you seriously.
"Then why are you standing in my room in yesterdays clothes." He hums eyebrows raised, his voice cocky.
"A glitch in the timeline, an error in the universe." You say simply shoving past him, your shoulder knocking his.
Instead of letting you leave peacefully he follows, because of course he does.
"You're acting like this is the end of the world." He eyes trail over you with a grin as you stand at the entrance putting your shoes on, catching your dishevelled state in the mirror, shaking your head slightly before looking at him.
"Shut up." You respond, taking a deep breath, your hands shaking as you try lacing up your shoes.
Beomgyu watches in amusement for a moment, enjoying your unfocused state before kneeling down slapping your hands away tying your laces for you.
"So snappy in the morning, huh?" He finishes your laces with an annoyingly perfect bow, looking up at you with a sly grin.
"It's not happening again." You state, pissed at how he's not taking this seriously.
"Whats not happening again?" He feigns innocence — to annoy you but you just ignore him, slamming the door in his face, standing against it as you try wrapping your head around this nightmare scenario.
God you despise him.
If you didn't see him in this lifetime it would still be too soon for you.
Unfortunately they didn't give you a life time — they gave you two weeks.
When you enter the sanctuary of your apartment after a gruelling class you expect to just shower, eat leftovers and rot. Instead you see Beomgyu relaxing on your couch as if he owns the place.
You freeze in the doorway, your eyes locking on his, a smirk wide on his face as he meets your gaze.
Before you can say anything Haeun enters from her room, her signature smile greeting you as you snap back into reality, smiling softly at her as she envelops you in a hug.
"Hi — how was class? I know you always hate your Thursday classes, and I know we had plans but Gyu asked to come over and yeah it just happened yknow? — but also he was telling me about how you guys are finally getting along —" At this point you're used to her ramble, not knowing how she can talk without breathing. Listening, nodding along until you hear what she said about Beomgyu. Her words fading into background noise.
Refocusing as you smile at her, your eyes glancing at Beomgyu, clearly that's the reason he's so smug, your eyes lingering on his, a shit eating grin plastered on his face, snapping back to Haeun who looks so happy you genuinely can't say anything.
As she finishes talking you plaster on your best smile nodding slowly in agreement.
"Yeah — we're good" you say through your teeth, side eyeing Beomgyu who looks so pleased with himself.
"Really? Really Really — oh good because I need to duck out to see Siyun — something about our project and Beomgyu's staying for dinner so I'm glad you're getting along so you can stay in the same place unattended without murdering each other." she smiles laughing slightly, squeezing you before dipping out of the apartment before you can process.
Closing your eyes, you drop your bag, not bothering to acknowledge him hoping he'd just go away, obviously he doesn't.
Before you can slam your bedroom door on him he stops it with his foot, barging into your sacred space, groaning as you turn to him.
"Get out." You say flatly, unable to deal with his shit for much longer.
"That's not how you speak to guests, did nobody teach you manners?" He teases smiling at you enjoying your annoyed state.
"An unwanted guest mind you."
"Still a guest."
A moment passes, the tension becoming thick and unbearable, your voice catching in your throat as you look at him.
You're not blind, or stupid he's hot, he knows it which makes him even more annoying.
The silence breaks with your voice, slightly uneven from your heavy breathing. "I hate you."
"Feelings mutual." He says simply before making one long step towards you, hands gripping onto your face, capturing your lips in a heated messy kiss, pushing you back onto your bed, groaning into the kiss.
Unfortunately you can't blame alcohol on this one.
Or the time after that at Yeonjun's party.
Orrrr the time when Haeun asked you to pick up some notes for her.
You stopped counting after the 'accidental' run in at the bar.
It's not like you seek him out. That's always been the problem.
He's just always there.
You haven't defined anything with Beomgyu — you don't need to, or want to. He's there when he shouldn't be, there when you need him to be annoyingly enough.
He's always had the uncanny ability to be there when you're already at your wits end, Now instead of making your life a living hell.
He makes your life a living hell then fucks you after.
It's nearing the start of term, everyone's prepping for the dread of exams and assignments, enjoying he last free week before everything starts up again. The campus filled with rowdy college students partying like usual — with a purpose this time though.
Not that Heeseung needs a reason to throw a party, the guy celebrated his professor being absent by throwing a party saying it's what he would have wanted? you don't really question him.
It's nice though — his place, perks of going to a fancy college is most of them are rich, well the parents are anyways.
The party majority outside, a pool party after all — a rare party in the daytime, the disadvantage is seeing all the drunk college kids in daylight, seeing unsightly things you wouldn't usually.
Of course he's here, he's best friends with Heeseung — also seeming to have a slight tendency to go to every party happening but hey.
You don't talk still.
Well — you talk, not nicely, despite sleeping with each other now you still bicker and argue constantly, it usually just ends in him fucking you.
You're inside in the kitchen, not particularly in the mood to day drink — dragged here by your friends against your will.
You hear the foot steps coming into the kitchen, paying no real attention, more focused on whatever was happening in the group chat. That was until you hear an obnoxiously fake cough you recognise. Looking up and seeing Beomgyu, your mood immediately souring, clicking your phone off.
"Seriously." Your tone flat, annoyed simply by his presence.
"Fancy seeing you here." Beomgyu's voice the opposite of yours, a grin plastered on his face.
"You knew I was coming." Folding your arms over yourself, trying not to focus on him — because of course he's in just swim trunks, it's a pool party, you can still be annoyed though.
"Mhm, you knew I was too though so don't act so sour." He steps slowly closer to you, his eyes dragging over your frame, his eyes lingering on your chest before meeting your eyes again.
"Was hoping the universe was on my side considering the house is big enough to count as three apartments." You don't miss his eyes lingering on you unapologetically, your breath hitching slightly.
"Ill find you in every universe." His attempt to flirt only pissing you off, which he knew — it's why he does it.
"You're annoying." You hum, feigning disinterest, heat rising through your body — unable to ignore the way he's looking at you like he knows where this is heading.
"You say that every time." Beomgyu's words coming out nearly in a singing voice, his fingers faintly running up your side, sending shivers down your side.
You can feel his breath faint against your neck — knowing your should pull away — you never do though.
"Still doesn't seem to register to you though." Your voice a careful whisper, acutely aware of your surroundings.
"Kinda hard to considering whenever you say it you stick around anyways ." His voice matching yours, only his is heavier and lower.
"I hate you." Your voice sharp, the harsh words only fuelling him even more. Beomgyu's hands trailing down your waist, holding onto your hip, feeling his lips brush against your neck.
"Keep saying that and ill start to believe you." His voice barely audible, muffled from your skin, only pressing faint kisses against your neck.
"Beomgyu." You say as a warning, your voice not nearly as strong as you'd like it to be.
"They are all busy outback, well be quick.." His voice mixed with his lips pressing right into the sensitive part of your neck not helping you at all. "Well — we might be, depends if you'll behave or not." He teases, feeling him smile against your warm skin.
"Fuck you." Is all you manage to say, your voice cracking, your chest rising unevenly, the only thing stopping you from buckling down is his hold on your hips.
"Only if you ask nicely." He coos against your skin, his breath hitting the wet skin of your neck from his kisses.
Before you can even quip back at him he's pulling you down the hall, closing the bathroom door behind you, immediately his lips crash onto yours, his tongue pushing past your lips, trying to claim every part of you.
Moaning into the kiss, your hands holding onto any part of him you can reach, fingers lacing into his long hair tugging on the soft strands.
Your hold on his hair elicits a moan, only then does the kiss break — Beomgyu not straying far, his nose nudging against yours as you both catch your breath.
Beomgyu's eyes are trained on you, admiring how you're giving in so easy for him already. His grip tightening on your hips.
Pushing you against the bathroom counter, his hold on your hips helping you sit on the counter, absentmindedly playing with his hair — forcing yourself to focus, your eyes trailing over his features — noticing his long lashes, the slope of his nose, his stupidly perfect eyes.
Quickly silencing your own thoughts you pull him against you, your lips colliding, his tongue tracing your lip before pushing into your mouth — fighting for the upper hand.
Neither of you stepping down, tugging on his hair only fuelling him further. Beomgyu's hand snaking up your body, groping one of your tits over your shirt a moan escaping from you unwillingly, using that he nips on your bottom lip.
The kiss is heated and messy, no real sense or rhythm, only the tension you have bubbling over like this is the only output you have.
When he pulls back he doesn't stray far, latching onto your neck, kissing around your skin leaving sloppy wet kisses all over. He settles on the specific spot he may as well have memorised, sucking hard, knowing deep purple bruises will form later on.
Your breathe hitches from the tingling sensation, your grip on his hair loosening only for you to cup his neck for support, feeling your body get simultaneously lighter from his touch but also every mark weighing you down.
"If you leave a mark I swear to god —" Your voice trying to have some bite, quickly failing when Beomgyu nips at your skin, pulling a barely audible whimper from you.
"Or what? You'll stop me — we both know that's not happening anytime soon, angel." You can feel the bastard smile against your shoulder, pressing a final kiss against the already forming bruise before his hands make their way up your shirt, squeezing your tits through your bra.
"You talk all this shit — but when it comes down to it you're all talk, kinda pathetic really." His voice lower and breathy.
Continuing on his hands leave your chest, one slipping under the hem of your shorts straight into your panties, cupping your bare heat.
Only momentarily removing himself to push your shorts off, leaving your panties on, pushing them to the side.
Your forehead falls against his shoulder, trying to mask your embarrassment, failing miserably and only encouraging him.
"See, shes begging for me.. can feel you clenching 'round nothing — shit look at her.." His words not aimed at you, talking straight to your pussy — his words alone forcing a strained whine to escape your lips, your hands gripping onto his shirt, trying to rut your hips to meet his touch, so close but Beomgyu's purposefully putting no pressure on your cunt.
His free hand snakes up to your neck, around to hold you by the back of your neck, fingers softly tracing your skin before pulling you back out of his neck, forcing you to look at him.
The sudden pressure on your neck makes you moan, his fingers pushing down on the sides of your neck forcing you to look at him.
"If you react like this for someone you 'hate' id love to see how you are for someone you like, god — you're such a slut, would let anyone do this to you wouldn't you." His words mean, putting emphasis on hate, as if the word is funny to him, His hand cupping your pussy move slightly, finger slightly nudging your clit, a soft desperate sound escaping you only to fuel him.
"Nah — wouldn't let anyone else touch you like this, only for me right — nobody else can get her like this.." His nose brushing yours, feeling his breath brush against your lips he's that close.
"Eat — ah! shit.." Your voice cracking with your words, cursing yourself internally, Beomgyu lets out a faux mocking sad sound with a grin.
Beomgyu's looking at you at you with his eyes dark, trained on every reaction you make, storing it away for later.
He doesn't say anything right away, letting out an overly dramatic sigh, his thumb brushing over your clit putting sudden pressure on it making you whine, desperate for more.
"What was that — say it again, didn't quite hear you.." His voice quiet, mocking — his lips turned into a smile.
Trying to regain your composure you take a shaky breath, all your senses overwhelmingly taken over by him.
"I said eat sh —" Before you can even finish your sentence his fingers are circling over your soaked hole. Immediately every part of your brain fails you, only focused on his fingers, trying to grind your hips up to push them in.
"You say that but your beggin' for me, sweetheart." He teases, his voice sending shivers down your spine.
Your breath hitches, your brain clouded, unable to think of anything to respond, your lack of response only droning him on.
"So much prettier when you don't open your mouth yknow that — almost can make you tolerable." His fingers tracing softly over your entrance, not pushing in, just putting enough pressure on you to have you needing more.
Your response is a broken moan, trying to bury yourself into the crook of his shoulder again, his hand holding your neck in place stopping you, forcing you to look at him. "Got nothing to say now, huh — all it takes is a little and you're all sweet f'me yeah?" he coos mockingly at you, throwing you a fake pout before breaking into a grin.
"It's okay, m'gonna take good care of her, yeah? shes dripping all for me.." His fingers finally prodding your entrance, stretching you ever so slightly, making you crave more.
"Not gonna deny her any attention because you're being a bitch, god shes craving me, clenching around barely anything."
You're barely processing his words — the sharp words targeted at you then his sweet words for your pussy sending you spinning.
Beomgyu's fingers push into your heat, sucking in a sharp breath as he feels you soaked around his fingers, his hand that rested on your neck moving to your thigh, holding you in place, pressing wet kisses over your shoulder.
Your desperate pleas echoing across the bathroom, finding it hard to remember your in public — at a pool party and all of your close friends metres from you.
Trying to grind your hips against his hand is a failed effort, his hold on your thigh keeping you firm in place. Beomgyu's fingers start thrusting into you fast — giving you no room to adjust to the sensation.
His body memorised yours at this point, knowing exactly which buttons to press, which angle gets draws out the prettiest moans he's been dreaming of since you last fucked.
He's muttering something you can barely hear — not understanding him at all — all your focus on his fingers hit that intense spot dead on.
Your legs start trembling when his thumb starts rubbing raw, harsh but pleasurable circles on your clit, hearing him groan at your walls clenching around his fingers.
Your brains foggy, so focused on the feeling of him — the way you can feel him curving his fingers to hit every spot better, his nails digging into the plush of your thigh — knowing there is going to be small crescent marks lingering for a bit.
You can feel the familiar feeling form in your gut lingering, making it clear that you're close, Beomgyu knows too — the way your whines are getting needier and your walls fluttering so sweetly around him.
Then he pulls out.
Your impending orgasm fades into an afterthought — your whole body tingling from him, fading into a dull throb between your legs.
"Beomgyu I swear to god —" Immediately he cuts you off with a kiss, silencing any complaints.
"Hold your horses angel, don't get your panties in a twist." He says with a grin, stepping back from you only to unbutton and unzip his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down enough to pull out his half-hard cock.
Your eyes go down to his cock unapologetically , subconsciously clenching your thighs, a smirk twitching on his face when he notices.
"Always wondered if there was a way to shut you up." His eyes stay on you, his fingers wrapping around his cock, giving himself a few strokes before lining up with your entrance, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist, your hands flying to his broad shoulders trying to stabilise yourself.
Before you can even think of a response he pushes himself into you, giving you no time to adjust, the room filling with both of your panting, your whines shifting to whimpers at the sudden pressure.
"Who knew all it would take was you being a little slut." He whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Your nails digging into his shoulders, only making him groan from the pain.
Giving you no time to adjust to the heavy feeling in you he pulls out of you, pushing back into you with one mean thrust.
His pace is fast, your walls sucking him in with ease, his tip prodding the spongy spot on your walls with no trouble.
Your moans only growing louder as he thrusts in and out of you, the sound of your skin slapping and the squelch of your hips meeting and your wetness pooling at the base of his cock. One of his hands move to your mouth covering it, trying and failing to muffle your moans.
"So loud huh, what — want everyone to know who owns this pussy? Let everyone know you're a little attention whore who starts fights with me just sp I can fuck the attitude right out of ya?" He says in between thrusts, his voice breathy, trying his hardest not to moan when you clench hard around him.
Beomgyu's thrusts grow sloppy, a sign he's getting caught up in his own pleasure. He may be an asshole but he's not cruel, at least when it comes to sex.
His hand snakes down between you too, using your slick to circle your neglected achy clit. As he removes his hand from your mouth, you immediately catch his lips in yours, your hands cupping his jaw — moaning into his mouth as he fucks into you.
Using one of his hands to hike your leg up higher, hitting a deeper angle immediately, pulling desperate whines from you.
The duel sensation of his attack on your throbbing bud, his hips crashing against yours in mean deep thrusts — you can feel your orgasm brewing.
"Taking me so well, baby — this pussy was made for me." The unexpected praise only pushes you over the edge — your orgasm ripping through you hard.
"That's it, come for me sweetheart — knew you had it in you." His thrusts growing even more sloppy and uncoordinated, the feeling of your walls sucking him in deeper from your orgasm — the warm feeling you overtaking him — pushing him to his own orgasm shortly after yours.
Fucking you through both your orgasms he doesn't stop — his fingers growing slower as he draws out your orgasm, making sure to not overstimulate you.
Your moans slowing down as your orgasm washes over you, riding it out, both of you breathing heavily, the room smelling of sex and chlorine.
His movements on your bud only stopping when he snaps back into reality, you wincing slightly from the unintentional overstimulation.
Resting your head on his shoulder as you catch your breath — his unintentionally hard grip hold on your thigh loosening, his fingers rubbing on the red skin.
After a moment of you both gathering yourself, your voice scratchy. "I hate you." Lacking any serious bite, from your voice breathy and throat sore.
He only hums in acknowledgement, his fingers catching your chin forcing you to look at him, a usually uncharacteristic look of concern on his face only reserved for after sex.
"You good." Beomgyu silently hopes the slight concern doesn't show in his tone, if you notice you don't say anything, still trying to think clearly after your intense orgasm.
Not responding verbally, only with a nod, the look dissipates, a cocky smirk replacing it, somehow lighter.
"Not talkative?" He teases, unable to take your annoyed look seriously.
"Shut up."
Both of you seemingly realising he's inside you, feeling his cock soften inside you.
Beomgyu slowly pulls out, making you both wince slightly from the cold air hitting you. Before you can process his fingers dip down between you pushing his cum inside you making you moan suddenly.
When he's satisfied he pulls your panties back into place, enjoying the small wet patch forming from his cum trying to slip out.
"Beomgyu get me tissues we are not doing this." You say with a deadpanned look, the party having hours left and you are not walking around like this. "I already have fucking marks all over me."
"Nobody knows they were from me though." He hums, smiling at your annoyed state.
"Beomgyu." You say as a warning, watching him pull up his pants tucking himself back into his boxers. Looking just as dishevelled as you probably.
"Haeun's probably looking for you, don't wanna keep her waiting do you?" He says heading for the door, giving you a once over. Before you can retaliate he's out the door leaving you alone with your own thoughts.
Hopping off the counter, turning around you look at yourself in the mirror, hair that was perfect before now messy, your make up smudged and lip gloss long gone.
Faint purple marks forming under your shirt, just barely hidden. Silently cursing Beomgyu, and probably cursing him out later for no apparent reason to everyone else but you two.
Your whole body buzzing from your orgasm, and just him in general, trying to get a hold of yourself, fixing everything to try and make it look like you didn't just get fucked on a bathroom counter.
Just as you take a deep breath there is a knock on the door followed by a familiar voice.
"Hey — are you in there, ive been looking for you!" You can hear Haeun's muffled voice from behind the door startling you, giving yourself one last moment.
"Yeah — ill be right out." Haeun seemingly satisfied with that answer wanders off to join the rest of the party, leaving the bathroom you look around, making your way outside to everyone else, your eyes immediately locking on Beomgyu — whos acting like he didn't just ruin you in one of your friends bathroom, you see him glance in your direction, hiding a smirk by taking a drink.
Exams are killing you, metaphorically and literally.
Surviving off TV dinners and a prayer.
Now you're smart, you know that but this is hell — starting off the semester sick and missing a bunch of classes, playing an endless game of catch up, ontop of your other classes.
On top of that Haeun as a roommate is like having excitement reincarnated as a roommate. Constantly coming in to talk, then helping her with her homework and forgetting what you were doing entirely.
Haeun's at her parents over the long weekend, begrudgingly leaving you alone — begging you to come with her.
Unfortunately — or fortunately for you; you couldn't go, your academics crying and in desperate attention.
With Haeun gone you actually are making good work, enjoying the alone time you desperately needed.
You've been at it for hours, energy drinks and water bottles piled up next to your textbooks, everything scattered around your desk, overlapping each other. Trying to cram as much information into your head on all different topics you probably wont even need for your exams.
So you don't particularly notice when you hear movement in the living room — assuming it's your cat being mischievous and or just the hallway traffic outside the apartment.
That's until you feel a hand on your shoulder you jump out of your seat nearly, feeling your soul leave your body, instantly hearing the wheezing laugh of Beomgyu, turning your chair around to see him laughing, nearly keeling over in amusement.
"What the fuck is wrong with you." Your heart may as well dropped to your stomach, beating hard in your chest.
Beomgyu only stifles his laughs for a second before you hit him with your textbook, making him wince and hold his arm, a stupid grin still plastered on his face.
Holding back a small laugh of your own, taking a deep breathe before you look at him, feigning annoyance. "What are you doing here."
The question snaps Beomgyu out of his fit of amusement, looking at you, his eyes trailing over you. "Haeun's at our parents." He states, obviously you know that but not sure why it means he can come over.
"So you decide to break in and harass me?" You raise a brow, crossing your arms, noticing the small pause before he starts speaking, still grinning, but it shifting slightly.
"Not breaking in, if I have a key and also not harassment." He hums, slowly walking back over to you, crossing the small space in a few steps, entering your personal space.
"It's what id call it — and why do you even have a key." You mumble putting the text book back on your desk with a sigh, stretching over your head, the hours sitting down finally catching up to you.
Without warning Beomgyu spins your chair back around to face him, hovering over you, his face inches from yours.
slightly startled from the sudden act you let out a startled sound, bordering on a whine, that only drones him on.
"Missed you." His voice a low whisper, his nose nearly bumping yours.
"You missed sex — and annoying me." You try to deflect, purposefully ignoring the tightening feeling in your chest you definitely don't want to address.
Beomgyu pauses for a second, almost to think for a second, barely acknowledging your snippy remark. "Same thing."
His head dips, his lips brushing over your neck, pressing a faint kiss onto your warm skin before you groan slightly, making him pull back.
A small look of concern, mainly confusion washes over his face, shifting his mood instantly.
"You good?" He questions, the surprising lack of any humour catching you slightly off guard.
"I have to study." Your voice strained, apparent you're exhausted. Slowly he pulls back, raising a brow, his grin softening slightly, still slightly amused.
"You — need to study? Little miss honour roll?" His words teasing, laced with worry still but not as apparent.
"Fuck off, I'm way behind." Your words dragging, closing your eyes, in hopes it will magically cure the headache that's been a dull throb in your head all day.
Honestly you don't know why you're sharing this — the vulnerability, assuming he's going to make some sarcastic remark and leave.
For a moment he doesnt move or say anything, giving a small hum before pulling back. You assume he's finally gonna leave you alone.
Instead he fucking flops back onto your bed.
"What are you doing?" You say slightly exasperated, not a clue what is going on his head — you already said not today so you don't know why he's sticking around.
"Laying down." He shrugs, adjusting to be against your pillows, rustling in your bedside table for a book, pulling out a random one and flipping through the pages, uninterested.
"Why?" You take a breathe, your brows furrowed slightly, still amused — now fully distracted from your studies.
"Your bed is comfortable." He says flatly, his arms crossing above his head, eyes looking over you.
"You've been on it before." Unable to not notice the way he instantly relaxes into your space, as if he belongs there.
"Well — I'm not usually thinking of the mattress when I'm on it." A smirk plays on his lips, memories flooding through your head at the suggestive comment, making you throw a near by bottle at him, which he catches, throwing it onto the ground laughing at your reaction.
"Get out." Nearly at your wits end, a small part of you cant help but be content with this but you quickly silence that thought.
"I'm comfortable." He retorts quickly, the banter surprisingly light-hearted, you've made no real effort to kick him out yet, and he knows that.
"What if Haeun comes back early."
"Unlikely, and you know that."
After a moment passes you let out a groan, spinning your chair back around to your desk, resuming resuming to the best of your abilities to study, not that Beomgyu will let you get much done, also knowing he isn't leaving anytime soon.
Today was going great, well as great as it can go when you have an 8 am lecture. Haeun's classes aren't till the end of the day so you face the annoyance of campus alone.
Well not alone, catching a few of your friends hanging around a lecture hall you quickly join the conversation. As every parts ways, leaving campus or heading to class you continue with Jeongin — a friend of a friend you've met a few times, having a few classes together.
The conversations easy, not trying to force a laugh or pretend to be interested in whatever he's saying because you're actually interested — sharing the same major and interests for the most part.
What you don't notice is Beomgyu — who was originally deep in his own conversation with his friends, his focus shifting when you catch his eye as you walk past him, completely oblivious to him.
Beomgyu completely losing interest in his own conversation, his thoughts never straying from you. Who was that guy? Why are you smiling and laughing so hard — he cant be as funny as him. Not that you'd consciously laugh at Beomgyu's jokes anyways.
Unable to control himself any longer he's making long strides over to where your standing, immersed in conversation.
"Hey there." His tone laced with faux happiness a tight grin on his face, slinging a 'friendly' arm around your shoulders, unconsciously pulling you closer to him and further from Jeongin.
You can feel him on you before you can hear him, his cologne immediately clocking you, recognising the scent too quickly. Annoyance immediately taking over anything you were feeling before, your smile dropping.
Before you can even speak Beomgyu's arms leaving your shoulders, draping himself across your waist, his fingers grazing your hip, sending shivers down your spine.
Jeongin quickly noticing the vibe shift lets out a strained laugh, giving you a quick nod. "Ill see you around, ill see you in class Monday?"
Not fully trusting your voice you just nod apologetically at him. When he's out of range you push Beomgyu off you, looking at his pleased grin.
Looking around before you grab his wrist, pulling him to the nearest building, ending up in a staircase you drag him in, hitting his shoulder.
"What the hell — was that." You say in a whisper yell, quickly looking around to make sure nobody is around.
'What, I'm just looking out for you." He shrugs as if what he did was normal, his expression showing no remorse.
"Oh and you know whats best for me — really?" You let out a dry laugh crossing your arms, shaking your head in disbelief.
Beomgyu doesn't respond right away, stepping closer to you — invading your personal space, his voice dropping an octave, a smile replacing his look of indifference from earlier. "I know the best way to keep you in your place, angel. Might I remind you of last week — or even last night, begging for me —"
"Fuck you." You cut him off instantly, your breathing going uneven from him being so close — knowing exactly which buttons to push.
"Already done that before, baby." He moves even closer, his breath fanning your neck, still not touching you.
The hallway growing heavy with tension, both of your breathing audible — Beomgyu's lack of touch giving you an out if you want it — and you really don't.
"Heres what you're gonna do —"
"Oh yeah, really?" You scoff in disbelief, letting out a dry laugh, heat radiating from him — his calm demeanour sending you spiralling.
"Yeah — 'cause we both know behind this act — because it is an act.." His voice trails off, his fingers reaching up, barely grazing over your jaw. "You cant resist me." He says confidently, his eyes locking on yours briefly before looking over your features.
"You're gonna go to our spot in 10 minutes, and if you're late you're seriously gonna reconsider talking to that guy on Monday." His voice almost venomous when mentioning Jeongin. His fingers leave your jaw, leaving a faint tingle where the lingered, meeting his eyes once again, holding them for a moment — his eyes dark, filled with something you haven't seen before. Jealousy, you don't really want to unpack yet.. or ever.
Barely processing his words before he's out the door — the large entry doors swinging from the wind, leaving you alone in your own thoughts.
The walk alone to 'your spot' was already 6 minutes away, Beomgyu so adequately called it 'your spot' when it's not really your spot — just the most secluded spot in campus nobody has really found, perfect for whenever this — whatever you and Beomgyu are happens.
The walk was painfully slow, drawing it our purposefully to annoy Beomgyu — who has always been the impatient type.
When you arrived you checked your phone, 11 minutes. trying to bite back a small laugh you enter the small room — an empty storage room on no campus maps.
Looking around as you enter trying to scope out Beomgyu — immediately he grabs your hand, pushing you against the wall, his face only centimetres from yours. Feeling his own chest against yours as you try catching your breath from the shock.
"A minute, seriously?" He lets out a dark hum, his hold on your wrist tightening, not enough to be painful — just enough to keep you in place.
"My bad, was enjoying the scenery." You say, your voiced laced with fake sympathy. Your eyes locked on his.
"Cant even follow a simple instruction — god you're useless." He spits out, his other hand roaming over your body, dipping in your jeans.
Your breath hitches, a small pathetic whine leaving your lips involuntarily. Glancing down at his hand. Swallowing the lump in your throat.
"I swear — everything leaves that cute head of yours as soon as I'm around — cant think about anything but how good I make you feel right?" Beomgyu's hand leaves your wrist, unzipping your hoodie, which he immediately recognises as his own — only leading him on.
"Flirting with a random guy in my hoodie? — what would everyone think when they find out you pretend to hate me but act like a little slut the second we're alone."
His fingers leaving your jeans with a whine from you, unzipping the hoodie and letting it fall on the ground — leaving you in only your undershirt.
"God, you're insufferable you know that —" He cuts you off by fucking biting your shoulder. A sound teetering on a wince and moan escaping your throat. Beomgyu quickly soothing the skin with a kiss, resting his forehead on you.
"You talk all this talk but still come back to me — so really how much do you 'hate me' truly." Almost hearing his smile, his voice edging on a laugh only serving to piss you off.
Beomgyu's hands running over your body, settling on your hips, skimming over your waistband, teasing you.
"Beomgyu stop teasing." You try and fail to force your voice to have any sharpness, the words coming out nearly as a whine.
"Say please.." Beomgyu mumbles into your shoulder, pressing wet open mouthed kisses along your collarbone, leaning your head back against the wall instinctively to give him better access causing him to smile against you.
Not responding at all only causes him to sigh dramatically against you — his smile never fading. "Say please and ill give you everything you want baby, just one word."
"Fuck off." Your voice lacking any bite and confidence, Beomgyu pulls away from your skin, admiring briefly the wet marks adorn on you.
Suddenly you feel the pressure of his hand against your throat, pressing down on the sides just enough to make your heart skip, looking at you like prey — his leg slipping in between your legs, pressing against your heat pulling a desperate moan from you.
"Say please and ill be nice."
"You're never nice."
"I am to people who don't act like brats." Beomgyu's eyes trail over you, admiring you unravelling under him.
You mumble it, barely audible but enough to make his grin widen, pressing down on your throat again making you whine. "What was that, didn't quite hear you angel." His voice just above a whisper.
"Please."
"See, was that so hard, pretty girl." His hand leaves your throat — the sensation quickly being replaced by his lips, both his hands wandering over your body greedily.
You know you should probably stop — but you seriously cant.
It's like an itch that you know you shouldn't scratch a sore, you know if you keep scratching it, it'll get infected but it feels so good when you do.
You know you definitely shouldn't keep sleeping with him — he pisses you off, makes your life hell, he's your best friends brother.
You still keep ending up in his bed.
Or him in yours.
Which is exactly what happened, the sore got infected.
Well — You got caught.
Nearly.
Got off by the skin of your teeth.
It's winter, it's also one of your rare free days off from work and college. No assignments due, no homework just nothing.
Which honestly you're not complaining about, slightly glad you have no impending assignments to stress about.
Both you and Haeun are relaxing in your room - the only one with heating that works moderately well.
You're on your bed scrolling on your phone, paying no attention to whatever Haeun is doing, hearing her shuffling through your room.
You're best friends, ride or dies — having nothing to hide, in your room at least.
Well that you know of.
"Whats this?" Haeun's voice pulls you from your phone, glancing over at her by your closet. Unable to see what shes holding you lean forward a bit. When you see what shes holding all blood rushes from your face.
A hoodie, simple! But Haeun knows your wardrobe, this is not your hoodie and she knows that.
The simple black hoodie which could belong to anyone? Your laundry must have been mixed up, right? You can use that excuse —
"Weird, Gyu has one just like this, same brand and everything, and rip too —" Haeun trails on, immediately you cough, bringing her attention to you.
"It's apart of the design I think — must've gotten mixed up with someone from the laundromat" You shrug feigning innocence. Haeun looks at you for a moment longer than needed, not fully buying it but not pushing.
"I guess." She hums slightly, laying it on the back of your chair, flopping next to you on the bed, you hope she cant hear or sense your heart racing and your blood pressure rising with every second.
"So, any reason for the snooping?" You try shifting the topic, Haeun unaware smiles immediately.
"Siyun asked me on a date, tonight." She lets out a dramatic sigh, you cant help but smile at her excitement. "Said he wanted to be spontaneous, and that it's worth the surprise."
You hum in acknowledgement, letting her continue her rant, in your head you're just glad she believed you, then it hits.
The guilt.
The guilt of lying to your best friend, doing this behind her back and shes oblivious, knowing that both of you are the most important people in her life and you're both lying to her.
Moving through the apartment in a haze, following Haeun around as she talks and gets ready for her date, saying what you need to say, talking enough to not have her questioning where your head is.
Because if she did ask if something was wrong, you're not sure if you could lie any longer.
As she heads out for her date you're left with your thoughts, which is never good.
Because what would she think?
If she found out you were sleeping with her brother from finding his clothes in your closet — which how the hell did it get there.
God you don't wanna imagine her face — the pain, the lies.
The only reason she didn't question further was because she trusted you, and him. Because if she did question further — if she looked any closer to the hoodie, she'd see not only the 'designed rip' — she'd see the exact same stain from chem lab, his stupid doodles on the tag — and that you definitely couldn't blame on a stylistic choice.
Before you can think you're grabbing the hoodie that was plaguing your thoughts and you're out the door — not really thinking about it.
Well you know where you're going.
You know the way without even needing directions — you have the route memorised from late night walks to his, or him walking you back to yours even when you didn't ask.
You don't text him you're on your way or that you're going over; because you know he'll reply with some stupid and flirty joke which you definitely don't need right now.
It's only a ten minute walk, you wish it was longer — not nearly enough time to actually think about what you're going to say. Stopping yourself involuntarily at his door — you know his roommates not home — why do you know his roommates schedule, because he doesn't shut up so you're forced to listen to him.
No other reason.
You don't have a plan, the ten minutes feeling like three, fuck what were you going to say — what was he going to say.
You cant even knock before the door swings open, of course as you expected he answer — he's the only one home what did you expect — fuck why are you doing this.
What you didn't expect was him to answer looking like heaven or hell depending on how you look at it reincarnated, pants hung low on his hips, his boxers peaking through, the small happy trail visible, peaking out from them. Shirt slightly askew from whatever he was doing before — not bothering to adjust.
Trying to gather your thoughts you're just standing there in his doorway, basically gawking at him. His expression smug, amused at your clearly dishevelled state.
The next thing you process is his touch — his fingers lingering on your arm, pulling you inside. Tumbling inside you immediately recover from your daze, shoving the hoodie into his chest, letting it fall to his feet.
"What the hell is this." Your voice teetering between a yell and a whisper.
Beomgyu simply looks at you with amusement, looking you up and down a smug smile on his lips. "A hoodie, cmon angel, you're not that stupid."
"No I mean what is it doing in my closet." You spit out, feeling your blood pressure rise from him just existing.
"I put it there." He says like it's the simplest thing in the world, with the audacity to just shrug it off.
"No shit — I mean why, Beomgyu." Your voice raising, your anger growing into confusion. Your brain going a thousand miles a minute trying to figure out why he put it there so recklessly.
His eyes leave yours for a split second, his expression changing briefly before looking back at you. "In case you got cold or something."
His words linger in the air for a moment — processing what he said, what his words meant.
Turning around from him, groaning in annoyance your hands running over your face.
"Are you seri — Haeun nearly caught us." You say through your teeth, your palms digging into your eyes, taking a breath before turning to face him, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation.
Beomgyu freezes momentarily, taking in your state, his lips turning up in a small smirk, enjoying your frazzled state.
Letting you continue your spiel, his eyes following you as you pace across the room.
"The only reason she didn't is because she trusts me — us, so when I say it was some random persons laundry getting mixed up with mine she believed me — because why on earth would I ever lie to her." Your voice trailing off from anger to guilt, your fingers twirling the necklace dangling from your neck — ironically the matching one you have with Haeun.
"You're overreacting." He says calmly, in hopes to try and soothe whatever your feeling — his words only making it worse.
You scoff in disbelief taking a deep breath looking at him. "No — no! If anything I am under reacting right now — fuck I knew this was a stupid idea, we cant keep doing this."
Beomgyu stills for a moment, his feelings unreadable — confusion, maybe slight annoyance — hurt maybe?
"Because of a hoodie? If she questions further just say — I don't know, I left it at your place and you just sorted it with your —"
"Oh my fucking god, Beomgyu — not because of a hoodie! Because we are basically betraying Haeun!" Your sharp words cutting him off quickly, breaking off at the end, exasperated and exhausted, from everything — the hiding, the guilt — the unknown of what the fuck you are, both of you too stubborn or scared to ask.
You know in the grand scheme of it, you're overreacting but you cant help it — the months of guilt, unspoken feelings bubbling over.
The sharp contrast of before — when the neighbours could most definitely hear you arguing and now — an eerie quiet, both of you just — there.
"We need to end this."
"No."
"You cant just say no —"
"I am, I have a say in this."
"Beomgyu why are you fucking fighting this! — All we do is fight then have sex, it's unhealthy and —"
"You're only ending it because you're scared." His voice is steady, his arms crossed as he leans on the back of the couch, watching you unravel.
"God — you're so arrogant, I'm thinking of Haeun — and I swear to god if you keep interrupting me." You pace around in front of him, basically vibrating at this point, your skin warm, your hands flailing around as you talk.
"You're always thinking of Haeun, Y/n." His eyes follow you around, remaining calm, an unusual lack of any smart ass remarks.
The mention of Haeun makes you stiffen in your spot, your eyes locking on his.
"Fuck you."
You spit out almost like venom, your breathing growing uneven from getting worked up.
"Isn't that what you're trying to avoid?" He hums, a small cocky smile growing on his lips.
You let out a dry, humourless laugh, unintentionally moving closer to him, your fingers running over your face trying to calm down. "We are not doing this! God you're so —"
"What? Self absorbed, egotistical, arrogant? Try me, you've called me everything under the sun, angel." He tilts his head towards you, breaching your personal space, you make no real effort to move.
"I hate you."
"Every time you say that it gets less and less believable." He quips back instantly, his voice dropping an octave.
The tension between you growing palpable, laying it all on the table and still so much left unsaid.
Beomgyu takes a moment before moving even closer, feeling the warmth radiating off you.
"You're such a brat."
"Do you honestly think Haeun would care if we were sleeping together?" His voice flat, emphasising the honestly, trying to get you to see his view.
"Yes — what kind of question is that." You stammer, dumbfounded, his question seeming stupid, of course she would care — If you found out your best friend was hiding something like this you'd be pissed.
He doesnt respond instantly, just looking over you — gauging your expression, almost like he's analysing you. "No, you care. You're using Haeun as an excuse to avoid how you actually feel."
You scoff in disbelief shaking your head, a dry laugh escaping your lips. "That's not what this is — and don't act like you know me."
"No? Then what is this then — because I do know you, I know you better than you know yourself half the time."
Everything about this is wrong, You and Beomgyu have always been wrong, everything about him irks you irrevocably, you don't mesh, you don't work — so why doesnt it feel wrong.
Arguably you know that this is stupid — and that yes, you are using Haeun to avoid how you feel but that's just because you don't know how you feel.
Beomgyu is irritable in the same way a headache is — he's arrogant and obnoxious. He's competitive with only you, he's a dick to only you, so why the fuck is he fighting you on this.
You have your own revelations about this — whatever you are, but whats in it for him? Why you — why is he so protective of whatever you are, refusing to end this. Honestly it wouldn't surprise you if he's being hard just to piss you off, but you know that's not the case.
A part of you is desperate just to understand him — You've always prided yourself in being able to read people pretty well but you just cant with him.
When you break the silence it's with a dry laugh, your eyes meeting his, which were already trained on you.
"I'm not doing this."
"No we are, actually." His reply is instant, almost as if he predicted your response.
Your feet move before you can think, instinctively walking away — from him, this conversation, unsure if you even wanna hear what his opinion is because he's incapable of shutting up.
Before you can even make it to the door you feel him on you, his hand clasping around your wrist — not tight enough to hurt but enough to stop your movements.
Your back meeting the wall with a small thud — the space between you small, barely existing. The faint feeling of his breath against your skin, his fingers loosening around your wrist but lingering.
"You cant just walk away because you don't wanna talk about us, you don't get to just run away because your avoiding talking about how you feel."
"I'm walking away because the conversation ended, there is no us to talk about." Your body betraying you, your harsh words having no malice with your voice uneven, unable to even meet his eyes.
"Bullshit, you and I both know that's bullshit." He spits out, his voice low, barely louder than a whisper, if you didn't know better you could almost sense the hurt in his voice.
"Beomgyu." You say, nearly as a warning, for both of you.
"If there is nothing between us why are you so scared of Haeun finding out, if you think for a second what we have is just sex then you're not as smart as I thought."
His words instantly catching you off guard, the sudden vulnerability — the reality of it. What you had was 'just sex'. You don't think about the after, when he lingers, when he asks about your day, when he's always just there when you need him without realising you do.
Seeing it in the moment as an annoyance, because if you thought about the fact he actually makes you smile, and isn't always an arrogant asshole.
"It is just sex — you're acting like we have a normal relationship outside of it we aren't even friends! All you do is fight me on everything." The rational part of your brain trying to get him to see the logic — well your logic.
"Maybe it's just sex because you never even let yourself think it could be more, maybe I fight you on everything because it's the only time you're real." That familiar feeling — the stutter you always ignore, the small feeling whenever you see the other side of him takes over your chest.
He was right — to a point, you never let yourself think about him more than sex — because what then?
In a way you liked the way your relationship was, the way he always was there to fight you on things — to push you, fuck it was annoying but still.
Because you knew he was a good person — you've always known that, maybe that's why you could never hate him in the way you claimed.
Everything is too much — your own thoughts, his words — just him.
You let out a deep ragged breath, bordering on a laugh, unable to even look at him — your mind trying to find anyway to leave — because the bastard is right, you do run away.
Pushing him back enough for you to quickly walk away — again.
Again, Beomgyu is not having it.
His hand grabbing your wrist again, pulling you into him — his lips crashing onto yours. His hands cupping your jaw, not letting you even think about leaving again.
You immediately kiss back — its not soft, its desperate, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip briefly before his tongue slipping into your mouth, claiming every part of you, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss, your fingers moving to lace into his hair, tugging at his hair, almost trying to pull him close enough to fuse into him.
The kiss is heavy — so much unsaid, trying to tell you everything without words, trying to show you how much he needs you.
Beomgyu only nips at your lip before pulling back, earning a pathetic whine from you, a string of spit connecting you, his forehead resting against yours, his fingertips barely on your cheek anymore, like he's trying to treasure you — too precious to touch.
You can barely even comprehend whats happening when you feel him laugh, his whole body shaking as he does, pulling his face from yours. His hand trailing down your cheek to your throat, wrapping around the front, his thumb pushing your chin up so you're forced to meet his eyes.
"Still easy." His voice having a rasp to it, his eyes so familiar — but also filled with something unfamiliar that you can now place — possessiveness.
"Fuck you."
"Only if you ask nicely."
Unable to stop yourself you crash your lips onto his again, desperate for him to just shut up for once.
It's desperate — messy, trying to pour everything between you into this, He's swallowing you whole — every part of you is consumed by him, his soft plush lips against yours — the faint taste of his lip balm, the coffee he was drinking before, everything about him making you dizzy.
Beomgyus hands are on you, his fingers kneading your hips — clumsily leading you to his room, both of you refusing to part from each other. Knocking into furniture — only making you huff into the kiss — a small moan escaping your lips when you feel his teeth nip at your bottom lip — swallowing the sound you make instantly.
The next thing you know is the kiss breaking — Beomgyu pushing you down onto the mattress, the small gasp that escapes only makes him smile above you, quickly kneeling to meet you, his hand cradling your face, tilting it up to meet him. Your lips parting instinctively — wanting him — needy for him.
"All this talk —" His voice gravelly, breaking with need, the deep sound echoing, going straight to your core, a small whine leaving your lips, looking up at him, silently pleading for him to do something — anything.
His lips trail down your jaw, when he gets to that particular spot he knows is sensitive his teeth nip at the skin, his tongue tracing over the mark, sucking hard making sure to leave a mark.
Because that's one thing he knows pisses you off — marks, does he do them anyways, yes.
You cant even bring yourself to fight him on it, every reasonable part of you turned against you.
His lips leave your skin, the sudden cold air hitting your wet skin making you whine, the whine only him smirk, unbelievably cocky that only he has this affect on you.
Beomgyu's eyes wander over you, noticing the small strip of skin exposed from your shirt riding up, the fact you clearly weren't thinking properly when you rushed over here, your legs exposed, the small sleep shirt barely hiding anything.
He's drinking you in — no matter how many times you've slept together he'll never get enough of this — you.
the sight of you; who is usually bratty, always running her mouth, laid out — begging for him, someone who she claims she detests.
God — the amount of times he's considered taping this, just to show you who is actually in charge.
He only snaps out of his trance when he hears your pathetic pleas, grasping at his hand, pulling him back towards you.
Grabbing at your wrist, his thumb presses against your pulse — the feeling of it beating under him only sending him crazy because its you.
Everything about you drives him insane — he can never get enough of you.
"Look at you, huh? I wonder what everyone would think if they knew how pathetic you were. Begging — being all sweet just for me, right?" His voice dripping with sarcasm, His fingers skimming over your torso, over the soft fabric that's leaving little to the imagination.
His eyes are trained on your face, focusing on all the small details, the way your eyebrows crease whenever he calls you one of the pet names you hate, the way your tongue pokes out when your concentrated — the way you get teary eyed whenever he teases you, how you look when his fingers press on your tongue — basically begging him to take all of you.
"Beomgyu.." Your strained voice only making it all worse — how even after everything you still needed him. Getting impatient, your head thrown back while your body arches into his touch.
a voice inside is telling him to hurry up because he needs you just bad, another part of him needs to prolong this — to show you just how much you need him, how much you really want him.
His fingers trace over the exposed skin of your stomach, not missing the way you shiver when his fingers touch you.
Every touch is electric — Your patience wearing thin, he's always had an affect on you — that's what got you here but this was different, he was drawing this out, taking his time messing with your head. His touches feeling different, lingering longer than necessary and on purpose.
Beomgyu's fingers dip under the hem of your shorts — so fucking close to where you need him, you think he's finally about to do something.
then he pulls his hand away. Not only that, pulling off you fully, standing tall over you.
The words die on the tip of your tongue when you see him pull his shirt over his head, throwing it across the room with no goal. Kneeling on the bed hovering over you again, his face close enough where you can feel his uneven breathes against your face.
"Do you have any idea what its like to deal with you." His voice is quiet — broken almost, like he's trying to hold back but cant.
His words instantly catch you off guard, taking a sharp breath, not even able to say anything before he continues.
"You're everywhere — I cant escape you even if I wanted too, and every time we fight — god do you know what it takes for me not to ruin you in that moment." His fingers tighten on your hip, voice dripping with need, you can hear him holding back.
You don't say anything — you cant, his words, bordering on a confession leave you breathless, not trusting your voice even if you tried.
"Always running that mouth but now, you're speechless?" He hums, his eyes focused on your shirt, his fingers bunching up the fabric at your waist, slowly pushing it up further and further.
His fingers graze over you mindlessly, his touch feather like over your side, the soft touch making you shiver. Beomgyus finger gently wrap around your wrist, pulling you up, quickly moving back to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, letting it land on the ground.
You can feel his eyes on you — Guiding you to lay back onto the mattress, hearing him audibly take a breath, his eyes never leaving you.
His thumb tracing over your chest, over the thin fabric — purposefully ignoring your perked nipples peaking through the thin bra you were wearing.
"Beomgyu." The breathy whine doing nothing to pull him from his gaze, his fingers reaching around to unclasp it, the bra loosening instantly.
Slowly, his fingers pull down the straps, letting it fall onto the space beside you, leaving you exposed. Beomgyu doesnt let you feel insecure to worried, his head leaning over your tits, his breath ghosting over one of your nipples making you gasp.
His tongue poking out, teasing you — licking the top half of your boobs, pressing sloppy kisses everywhere but you need him to.
Finally, his lips wrap around your nipple, teeth grazing over the sensitive bud, sucking hard, his other hand creeping up to your neglected tit, fingers tugging on your nipple, twisting and flicking it between his fingers.
Your hands rush to his hair, arching into his mouth, a string of desperate moans leaving your lips. He only moans when he feels you tug on his locks, his other hand gripping on your hip, stopping you from moving, affectively caging you under him.
His hand leaves your hip, smoothing over the band of your shorts, wasting to time pulling them down, letting you kick them off. His fingers running over your newly exposed skin, making your breath hitch.
With a pop, his lips leave your tit, the skin red and spit soaked — you make the mistake of trying to look down at him — his eyes already trained on you. His pupils blown, cheeks dusted pink, his hair a mess from your fingers running through it. You can feel him everywhere — his touch leaving your skin tingling.
His fingers carefully trace over the plush of your thigh, tapping at your inner thigh, telling you silently to part them — of course you do so instantly.
"Such a good girl — why cant you be like this all the time?" He tsks at the end, biting back a grin, the smugness in his voice pulling an embarrassed whine from you.
Pushing your legs apart further, his fingers circle the exposed skin of your inner thigh — testing you, so close to where you need him. You try pushing your hips up, trying to meet his fingers.
A small chuckle escapes his lips — not that you're focused on that, your brain a one track mind — only thinking of him, his touch.
His middle and ring finger brush over your cunt, his touch barely counting — still it drives you insane.His eyes drift down, looking at your body — desperately arching into his touch.
His fingers sliding down your folds collecting your slick — letting out a strangled sound, before you can think his fingers push inside you.
The sound that escaped was small — somewhere between a gasp and a moan, finally feeling him. His fingers stretching you out, curling deep inside your cunt.
Your moans fill the room, his fingers pumping inside you — hitting that addicting spot every time.
"F-fuck — don't stop.." Your voice breaking midway — Beomgyu's fingers scissoring inside you stretching you out more, his rhythm is mean — giving you no room to breathe.
"So tight — fuck, she takes me so well — shes sucking me in like she doesnt want me to leave." He takes a sharp breath, almost like he's holding back a moan — barely even registering your words, focused on the feeling of your cunt around his fingers — sucking him in, your warm walls taking him so well.
The feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you — the sudden loss of him only for him to slam his fingers back inside you, curling into that sweet spot that makes you clench around him hard.
His other hand grabs one of your thighs, hooking it over his hip, the sudden change of position only making his fingers push deeper in you.
You cant even do anything but moan, pulling him down to your level, your lips attaching back to his. "Beomgyu — ahh fuck! I'm gonna c-cum pleaseplease! —" Your words barely coherent, so focused on Beomgyu's fingers fucking you, the sound of your wetness echoing through the room.
You can almost taste the sweet release of your orgasm —
The he stills his fingers in aching pussy.
"Beomgyu what the fuck —" Your voice broken and coming out as a whine, the fading pleasure only making you try and chase it again — trying to buck your hips up to meet him, failing desperately.
"You think you deserve this — after being a brat?" His words teetering on a dry laugh, a dark, smug grin is all you see when you open your eyes.
You let out a choked sob — your whole body burning up — desperate for his touch again. "Please, — please." Your greedy — so desperate for that release you'll do anything.
Beomgyu's fingers suddenly start fucking into you — his palm meeting your clit with every thrust, his pace fast and rough.
"Look at her — so needy, just for me — gonna take care of this pussy, shes so sweet for me." Your back arches off the mattress, your walls fluttering around his digits, your clinging onto him — not letting him part from you for a second. Your head falling to his shoulder — sobbing into into him trying to muffle your loud, desperate moans.
The coil in your gut snaps — your orgasm rips through you. Your legs spasming around him, a string of nonsensical moans — his fingers pressing against that gummy spot on your walls relentlessly, fucking you through your orgasm — your release coating his hand, your walls sucking him further into your cunt.
Before you can even process Beomgyu's hands are on you — pulling you down to hover over his face, his hands kneading the plush of your hips, your legs already shaking from your previous orgasm making it impossible to stay stationary over him.
His arms wrap around your thighs pulling your cunt flush against his face, licking a long stripe up your cunt — drinking up your cum.
Falling forward you grab the headboard — trying to stabilise yourself, your brain working overtime, fuzzy from your orgasm and the warm, wet sensation of his mouth drinking up all your cum.
"Beomgyu — too much, shit! — " You gasp, your free hand tangling in his hair, unsure if you're trying to pull him closer or push him away.
Beomgyu's tongue laps up all of your juices — swirling over your oversensitive clit, the wet messy sound of his saliva mixing with your cum.
Already working in overdrive from your previous orgasm your next one crashes over you — Beomgyu's tongue swirling around your entrance licking up all of your cum — moaning low against your pussy making you jolt.
You cant help but grind against his face — using his tongue to ride out your orgasm, and he's letting you. His fingers digging into the skin of your thighs, keeping you right on his face, if you weren't so utterly fucked out you would have worried about his lack of oxygen.
After a moment his hold on you loosens, helping you off, leaning back on the mattress, her head hitting the pillows — the familiar scent of him consuming you.
Beomgyu settles between your legs, hooking your legs over his shoulders, basically bending you in half. His free hand strokes his cock, tapping his tip against your clit, smearing all the wetness over his cock.
"Look at you — fuck shes begging for me, mama." He hisses through his teeth, letting out a guttural groan deep from his chest. His eyes trained on your cunt — clenching around nothing, basically begging for his cock.
With one deep push he's inside you — the position only making him go impossibly deeper, feeling him everywhere in you, his hand smooths over your stomach pressing over the bulge in your stomach from how deep he is in your gut.
"Look at her — sucking me in, takes me so well every fucking time — doesnt she?"
You cant even reply — your eyes lolling shut, unable to keep them open, Beomgyu's cock sliding in out of of your pussy, pushing your legs impossibly closer, needing to be even closer to you somehow.
His cock buried deep inside you, roughly thrusting into you, his hips meeting yours.
Feeling every drag of tip against that gummy spot he's set on, his cock stretching you open — no matter how many times he fucks you dumb, your cunt sucks him like she never wants him to leave.
"Only I can fuck you like this, huh? Look at you — what? Fucked too stupid to even reply?" His lips brushed against your neck, his words coming out ragged and out of breath, almost punctuating every word with a sharp thrust.
The ache of your body being basically folded in half is in the far back of your mind — the pleasure ripping through you is all consuming — everything in your head being turned to mush only echoing one coherent thing — beomgyu.
"All angry at me when all you need is to be taken care off, yeah? Maybe instead of being a bitch just ask nicely and you can get — fuck, what you want." He hisses through his teeth, his pace faltering for a moment, his mocking words making you squeeze his cock tightly, nearly pushing him out.
Through all of the pleasure all you need is him closer — almost like he can sense it he leans down capturing your lips in a needy kiss, one of his hands moving off the mattress to cradle your face.
The kiss was heavy — it was laced with so many unspoken words, almost trying to tell you how he was feeling without speaking, holding onto your face tight, not letting you even try to move away from him, swallowing every sound — every pretty moan you let out.
you only break the kiss when a particular deep thrust knocks the air out of your chest, a small whimper escaping your lips. "Gyu — m'so close please.."
The sound that escapes Beomgyu's throat borders on a whimper — his thrusts growing sloppier, feeling him twitch inside you, taking a sharp breath against your lips, his head resting against yours.
"If you call me that again im not lasting, angel — fuck, squeezing me so tight, need to cum yeah?" He mumbled against your lips, you can practically feel him grinning against you, pulling back only to bury his cock deep into you — squishing your legs further into your chest, only letting him fuck you even deeper.
Fat tears are rolling down your cheeks, your sobs only morphing with your choked moans, the tight coil burning in your gut — so sensitive its too much but you need it — your pussy spasming around his length, your vision going blurry.
His cock heavy in your gut — his thrusts persistent and precise knowing exactly where every button to make you lose your mind is.
"For someone so — fucking sure she hates me, you sure beg for me like a little slut? You think you deserve to cum?" His words pull a desperate, choked sob, feeling his thrusts slow dangerously, feeling your high slowly slip out from under you. eagerly you shake your head in disagreement, his eyes lingering on the wet splotches of tears staining your cheeks.
"Cum for me, angel — that's it, good girl, let everyone know who you belong too, that's it —" his voice coming our raspy, dragging out the praise. With his words your orgasm comes crashing over you — your head throw back against the pillows arching impossibly closer to him — his hips crashing against yours, coming undone around his cock.
"Taking it so well — fuck gonna cum.. Gonna fuck you full, not gonna tell me to stop either, huh? She's begging for more, to fill her up — fuck. His words growing incoherent as his own orgasm comes crashing, the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock, creaming over his length as he fucks you through your orgasm.
Reaching up your fingers card through his hair tugging on the strands, pulling him closer to you, his thrusts not wavering, his own release making him more insatiable. The wet sounds of him fucking his cum into you — mixing with your own release only drones him on.
"She's taking me so well — gonna ruin her, only I get to have you like this, fuck shes dripping, can barely take it all." Your brain is shutting down — the only thing you can feel is him, its almost too much — orgasm after orgasm ripping through you.
After both of your highs calm down his thrusts slow, stopping after you let out a small whine. Slowly pulling back, his hand rubbing at the muscles of your sore legs, pulling out of you, mumbling under his breath. Watching as his cum mixed with yours, trickles out of your fluttering hole.
The room falls quiet, the small sounds of your breathing, the wind and rain from outside barely audible.
Beomgyu's eyes trail over you, taking in your state, focusing on your face — your eyes still shut, recuperating from just before. He leans over, pressing a feather like kiss onto your temple before standing up.
Stretching out, groaning comically loud only making you bite back a small laugh, He pulls up his boxers making his way out of the room, returning moments later with a wet cloth and a bottle of water.
You're staring up at the ceiling, just processing — the night ending in the way it always does for you both, but this time its different. You've both said things — maybe not a lot, or even all of how you felt but its not nothing.
Beomgyu settles between her legs, dragging the damp cloth over her, cleaning up the mess from between her legs.
Looking at him its almost domestic — a surprisingly soft expression on his face, cleaning you up gently, his free hand stationary on your leg, soothing the warm skin.
You only look at him briefly before his eyes meet yours, quickly looking back at the roof. Feeling Beomgyu pull away from you — you nearly felt colder, his warm presence shifting away from you.
Your mind is racing through everything — every thought ending with him, everything you try to distract yourself with somehow always ends in you thinking of Beomgyu in some shape or form.
Coming back to reality with Beomgyu calling out your name repeatedly, resting next to you on the bed. You swallow the lump in your throat giving yourself another moment before turning to him finally.
"I hate lying to her." Your voice small, the sudden shift is noticeable, finally having the conversation you've been avoiding since this started.
"I know." You were surprised when he actually took it seriously — didn't play it off as a joke, a part of you finally feeling like you can understand him.
you continue, "I feel guilty, like im hurting her —" Your short ramble quickly cut off.
"You know she wouldn't care, angel."
"Okay — logically I know that, okay but its one thing if we were serious but we're —" You trail off, breathless, a small weight simultaneously lifted off your shoulders and weighing you down.
Your eyes dart back to the ceiling, everything about this feeling new, undiscovered, raw — real.
He silently brushes some stray pieces of hair from your cheek, before taking a breath. The realisation that this conversation has probably been on his mind too — all your realisations are probably ones he's had.
"I don't think she needs to know what we are yet, and I don't particularly feel like telling her about me sleeping with her best friend."
The implication of yet doesnt brush past you — yet means that, yes he wants to tell her but also because he doesnt really know what you are yet.
"I don't hate you, I never did."
"Then why did you make my life a living hell?"
"Because — it was fun to see you riled up, enthusiastic."
"It was just a game to you?"
"You've never been just anything to me, you've been everything."
His words take all the air out of your chest, rendering you truly speechless. His vulnerable words shocking and you don't know what to say. All of his feelings out in the open — eagerly awaiting your response.
"You were that annoying and obnoxiously loud kid in class who always pissed me off." You say flatly, Beomgyu raising a brow at your sudden and harsh words.
"I pour my heart out to you and you say all that? Geez tell me how you really feel." He says lightheartedly with a small smile trying to lighten the tense mood.
'You were easy to hate." The words falling out of your lips quieter, more timid than you intended, he picked up on that.
"Were?"
"Shut up."
Beomgyu's face lights up with a cheesing grin, poking at your shoulder, amused by your embarrassment.
"No you said were — past tense."
"Oh my god do you shut up —" Your quickly cut off by his lips pressing against yours, his hand cupping your jaw, deepening the kiss. Only pulling breaking when you him gently, resting your hand on his shoulder.
"I was talking." You say unamused, Beomgyu however found his hilarious, only adding to the situation.
"I know."
He leans in to try and kiss you again, only for you to flick him, his dramatic reaction pulling a small smile from you.
"Beomgyu." You say hesitantly, still unsure of what this is — almost sensing it he quickly cuts off any thoughts.
"We don't need to talk about this all at once, as long as we are on the same page."
"And that page is?"
"That you're undeniably, irrecoverably —" Beomgyu's hand rests back ontop her cheek, pressing a kiss to her temple before pulling back, a stupid grin on his face " — obsessed with me."
"You're stupid." You reply instantly, not able to shake the amused smile on your face.
Summary: Choi Beomgyu is the resident loser of your school. With ripped jeans, smudged eyeliner, faded band t-shirts and an ego that makes you wonder where he could’ve possibly pulled it from. You, however, are the resident barbie doll with looks to kill for and a status to live up to. So how the Hell did Beomgyu weasel his way into your life?
╰┈➤ a/n: inspired by the rodrick x regina shipping on tiktok! will contain swearing, talk of alcohol usage, bullying lowk. usual regina and rodrick behaviour
“Wouldn’t want anyone to find out about us, huh?” Beomgyu mumbles between sloppy kisses. A breathy gasp escapes your mouth as his fingers grab onto your jaw, cool rings digging into the thin skin around your jawline.
You hold back a whimper because it’s pathetic. You’re the [y/n] [l/n] and Choi Beomgyu of all people has you folded up against someone’s bathroom sink in the middle of the hottest party on campus. You should be downing shots with your friends and taking the cutest photos in your sluttiest outfit yet but instead you’re under campuses biggest loser with glossy eyes and plump, blushed lips laced with his spit.
Beomgyu’s fingers keep your lips parted for the glob of spit he fires into your mouth. You barely blink as it lands against your tongue, automatically swallowing the intrusion. He grins deviously as he pulls back, moving his hand so that his thumb swipes over your bottom lip, dipping into your mouth so that he can press down of your twitching tongue.
He lets out an airy chuckle, eyes darkening as he mumbles something that causes your mind to blank almost pitifully.
“I’ll keep you my dirty little secret.”
let me know if you want to added to the taglist! will be released end of October/start of november!
synopsis: first officer, choi beomgyu just got promoted to captain. you're on his inaugural flight as pilot in command, and the chemistry between the flight deck and the cabin has never been this volatile. when a forced overnight in tokyo strands the crew together, tension increases.
────୨ৎ────
the pre-flight briefing room at incheon smells like burnt coffee and industrial carpet that hasn't been replaced since the early 2000s. you're adjusting your scarf in the reflection of your phone screen when minseo drops into the seat next to yours, already bolting with the energy of someone who's been gossiping in the crew lounge for twenty minutes straight.
"new captain on the flight deck," she says, like she's announcing a zombie apocalypse. "and y/n, i need you to mentally prepare yourself."
"for what?" you don't look up from your phone. "another divorced fifty-year-old who calls me 'sweetheart' while i pour his coffee and pretends i don't have a nametag?"
"better." minseo leans in close. "young. korean transfer from cargo division. apparently he has more flight hours than some of the senior captains, and he looks like he just stepped out of a drama casting call. the kind where he's the mysterious lead who has a tragic backstory about his first love dying in a plane crash or something. you know?"
you finally look up from your phone. "how young?"
"twenties. twenty-five, i heard." she pauses for dramatic effect, her eyes wide and serious. "and he has dimples.”
"focus," you mutter. you've been a flight attendant for three years. you've learned not to get distracted by pilots. they're either married, insufferable, or both. sometimes all three, somehow.
the briefing room door opens.
you've seen plenty of captains walk through that door. they usually look like variations of the same expression: exhausted, entitled, or desperately clinging to authority they don't actually have. they carry flight bags with pictures of children taped inside. they have coffee stains on their ties. they look at you like you're part of the furniture.
choi beomgyu looks like he was born to wear the uniform.
he's tall—taller than most of the cockpit crew you deal with and the navy blue pilot's jacket fits across his shoulders perfectly. he moves like he knows exactly where his body is in space at all times, like every gesture is calculated for true efficiency.
"good morning," he says. his voice is deeper than you expected, smooth with a slight rasp. "i'm captain choi. first day officially in the left seat, so i appreciate you all being patient with me while i figure out where they hide the good coffee and which of you won't judge me for drinking three cups before takeoff."
there's a ripple of laughter. you don't join in. you're too busy watching the way his hands move as he reviews the weather charts—long fingers, precise gestures, a pilot's watch heavy on his left wrist. his nails are short, clean, professional. you wonder what they'd feel like against your skin, and then immediately hate yourself for wondering.
"tokyo today," he continues, looking up. his gaze moves across the room and stops when it hits you. you feel it like a touch, like someone's actually reached out and pressed a thumb against your sternum. "fourteen hours roundtrip, but we're overnighting due to weather. narita. let's try not to kill each other, and if anyone knows a good ramen place, i’ll buy."
he holds your eyes for one second too long. then two. then three, and you realize you're holding your breath.
you look down at your notepad, heart hammering against your ribs, and pretend you didn't just get completely checked out by your new captain in front of your entire crew.
────୨ৎ────
the first four hours of the flight are mechanical. you do your rounds—meals, drinks, the businessman in 14c who keeps asking for whiskey he doesn't need, the mother in 23a traveling with a toddler who won't stop screaming. you avoid the flight deck on purpose, sending minseo up with the pilots' meals instead, telling yourself it's not avoidance, it's professionalism.
you're lying.
at hour six, turbulence hits over the east china sea. the seatbelt sign dings on with a sharp chime, and you're securing the galley when the cockpit door opens.
"need you for a second," beomgyu says. he's shed his jacket, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and you can see the veins in his forearms, the lean muscle there. his shirt is slightly untucked on one side, and it's so human, so normal, that it makes your chest tight. "co-pilot's taking a break. i could use the company."
"it's policy that—"
"i know the policy." he doesn't smile, but his eyes do, crinkling at the corners in a way that makes your stomach flip. "two crew members in the flight deck during single-pilot operation. that's why i'm asking you, and not your colleague."
"minseo's available," you say, even as your feet are already moving toward him.
"minseo talks too much," he says. "i want someone who knows when to be quiet."
"rude."
"accurate." he steps back to let you pass, and you have to squeeze through the narrow doorway, close enough to smell him—something clean, sandalwood and soap and the faint metallic scent of the aircraft. your shoulder brushes his as you settle into the jump seat behind him, and you feel him go still for just a fraction of a second, his breath catching almost imperceptibly.
"you're nervous," he says, not looking at you. his hands move over the controls with practiced ease, adjusting for the turbulence.
"of what?"
"me." he turns his head, and those dark eyes find yours in the reflection of the glass. the sky outside is endless blue, cloudless, stretching forever. "you've been avoiding the flight deck all flight, y/n. i noticed."
your name in his mouth sounds like a secret. you didn't tell him your name. you didn't wear your nametag in the briefing.
"i read the manifest," he says, like he can hear your thoughts. his voice is soft, intimate, completely inappropriate for a cockpit. "i like knowing who i'm flying with. especially when they've been looking at me like they want to know more."
"professional courtesy," you manage, but your voice cracks.
"is that what we're calling it?" he adjusts something on the panel, and the aircraft banks slightly, tilting toward the sun. the light catches his profile, highlighting the sharp line of his nose, the curve of his mouth. "you were looking at me in the briefing. before i saw you. i felt it."
the turbulence bumps the aircraft, a rough jolt that makes the seatbelt dig into your hips. beomgyu doesn't flinch. his hands stay steady on the controls, and you realize with a dizzying clarity that you're attracted to his competence as much as his face. there's something devastating about watching someone be good at their job, especially when their job is keeping hundreds of people alive at forty thousand feet.
"i don't—" you start.
"you're going to tell me it's inappropriate," he cuts in. "that i'm your captain. that there are rules. that this is my first day and you're supposed to be professional and i'm supposed to be setting an example."
"aren't there rules?" you ask, but your voice is barely above a whisper.
"plenty." he finally turns to face you fully, and the cockpit feels smaller still, like the walls are closing in, like the air is getting thinner. "but we're at forty thousand feet. somewhere over international waters. and i'm tired of pretending i didn't notice you the second i walked into that room. i'm tired of pretending i haven't been thinking about what your mouth tastes like for the past six hours."
your mouth goes dry. "this is—"
"a bad idea?" he laughs, low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. "obviously. i'm not stupid, y/n. i also don't care. not right now. not with you sitting there looking at me like that."
the radio crackles. air traffic control, distant and staticky, asking for an altitude confirmation. beomgyu answers with practiced ease, his voice shifting into professional mode so smoothly it gives you whiplash. when he finishes, he reaches back—not touching you, but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his palm, hovering over your knee.
"thirty minutes," he says softly. "until my co-pilot comes back. thirty minutes where it's just us, and this conversation never happened if you don't want it to."
"and if i do want it to?"
his eyes darken, his pupils blown wide. "then maybe you stay a little longer. maybe we find out what happens when the seatbelt sign goes off."
────୨ৎ────
you don't stay. you can't. the co-pilot comes back, some senior guy named lee who gives you a nod as you squeeze past beomgyu… closer than necessary, his hand brushing your lower back to steady you as the turbulence hits again, his fingers pressing into your spine with a familiarity that makes you dizzy.
"see you on the descent," beomgyu says, like a promise, that sounds like a threat.
you spend the next six hours in a haze. minseo keeps giving you looks, like she knows something happened, but you shake your head and focus on your work: dinner service, the drunk guy in 22f, the mother traveling alone with twins who looks like she might cry if you don't bring her another glass of wine. you walk the aisles on autopilot, smiling, but your mind is in the cockpit. on his hands. on the way he said your name.
when the seatbelt sign comes on for final descent into narita, you're already strapped into your jump seat in the back galley, counting down the minutes until you can escape to the hotel and take the longest shower of your life. cold water. very cold water. maybe ice even.
the aircraft touches down smooth as silk. professional. beomgyu is good at his job, you have to give him that. the landing is flawless, barely a bump as the wheels kiss the tarmac.
deplaning takes forever. you stand at the door, smiling, thanking passengers who don't look at you, watching the sunset paint the narita tarmac in shades of gold and pink. you're almost done, almost free, when the last passenger clears and you turn to find beomgyu standing in the galley doorway.
he changed. he's in dark jeans now, a black sweater that clings to his shoulders, his pilot's jacket slung over one arm casually. he looks like someone you could see in a bar and take home without knowing he's your boss.
"crew bus leaves in twenty," he says. "same hotel as you. i checked."
"of course you did."
"there's a bar. rooftop. i'm going to be there in an hour." he steps closer, close enough that you can see the way his hair curls slightly at the nape of his neck. "you don't have to come. but if you do, y/n, i'm not going to pretend this is just a drink. i'm not going to pretend i haven't been hard since you walked into that briefing room this morning."
"and if someone sees us?"
he smiles then, and minseo was right—the dimples are criminal, deep and sharp and unfair. "then i guess i'm done flying for korean air. worth it."
he walks away before you can answer, and you stand there with your heart beating loudly, knowing you're going to show up.
────୨ৎ────
the hotel is one of the standard crew accommodations—clean, impersonal, twenty floors of airline staff rotating through on different routes. your room is on twelve. you shower, you change into the only nice thing you packed, which is a black dress that hits mid-thigh, simple but effective, with a neckline that dips lower than your uniform allows. you tell yourself you're going to the bar because you're hungry, because you want to see the view, because you're an adult who can have a drink with a colleague.
you're lying.
the rooftop bar is half-empty, the tokyo skyline glittering like a jewel box in the distance. you spot him immediately—he's at a corner table, two drinks already in front of him, and when he sees you. something in his expression shifts from anticipation to hunger so fast it steals your breath. he stands, and you see he's rolled his sleeves up again, showing those forearms, and of course, you want to bite them.
"you came," he says when you reach the table.
"i was thirsty."
"liar." but he's smiling. he gestures to the seat across from him, and you slide in, accepting the glass he pushes toward you. "how was your first flight with me, y/n?"
"professional."
"and now?"
you take a long sip, letting the alcohol burn before you answer. "less so."
"good." he leans forward, elbows on the table, and the distance between you feels like nothing. "i've been thinking about you all day. in the cockpit. during approach. when i was supposed to be checking weather reports. when i was supposed to be sleeping in the crew rest area. i couldn't sleep. i kept thinking about your mouth."
"that's dangerous," you say, but your voice is breathless.
"you're dangerous." he reaches across the table, his fingers brushing yours where they rest on your glass. "i don't do this… i don't risk my career for—"
"for what?"
his jaw tightens, a muscle jumping there. "for something i can't stop thinking about. for someone i met six hours ago and already know i want to ruin myself for."
the city lights blur behind him. you should go. you know you should go. instead, you turn your hand over, letting your palm press against his, and watch his eyes go dark.
"your room or mine?" you ask.
he stands so fast his chair scrapes against the floor, loud enough to draw attention from the other tables. he doesn't care. "mine. now. before i change my mind or come to my senses."
────୨ৎ────
the elevator ride is torture. he's standing close enough that you can feel the heat of him. when the doors close on the twelfth floor, he doesn't hit the button for his own.
"beomgyu—"
he turns, and then his mouth is on yours, hot and demanding, and you gasp against his lips as he backs you into the corner of the elevator. his hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel how hard he is already, the length of him pressing against your hip, insistent and thick.
"couldn't wait," he mutters against your jaw, trailing kisses down your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "fuck, y/n, i've been hard since. since i saw your legs in that uniform. since i heard your voice."
the elevator dings. he pulls back, breathing hard, his hair messy from where your fingers tangled in it. "my floor," he says, and his voice is rough. "unless you've changed your mind."
you step out first.
his room is identical to yours. he closes the door and locks it, and then you're in his arms again, his mouth finding yours with a desperation that makes your knees weak.
"wait," you breathe, pulling back just enough to see his face. "you're sure about this?"
"i don't care." he cups your face, thumbs stroking over your cheekbones with a tenderness that contradicts the hunger in his eyes. "tell me to stop and i will. but if you don't—" he presses his forehead to yours. "if you don't, i'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. until the only thing you know is mine. until you feel me inside you every time you walk down the aisle tomorrow."
"beomgyu—"
"say it again."
"beomgyu." you reach for his sweater, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the lean muscle underneath. "i want you inside me… now. please."
he groans, and then he's lifting you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bed. he lays you down like you're something precious, and then he's kissing you again—deep, filthy kisses that make you arch against him, desperate for more, for everything.
his hands move to your dress, sliding up your thighs, and you lift your hips to help him as he pulls it up and over your head. he pauses, looking down at you in your bra and underwear, and the way his breath catches makes you feel beautiful, makes you feel seen.
"fuck," he whispers, reverent. "look at you."
"you too," you manage, reaching for his belt. "i want to see you."
he lets you undo the buckle, the button, and the zipper. you push his jeans down, and he kicks them off, and then he's in nothing but black boxers. the outline of his cock straining against the fabric, and your mouth waters at the sight, at the thought of taking him, tasting him completely.
"later," he promises, reading your expression. "i'll let you taste me later. but right now—" he kneels between your legs, spreading you open, and hooks his fingers in your underwear. "right now i need to feel you. i need to know if you're as wet as i've been imagining. if you taste as good as you look."
he drags your underwear down your legs, slow, torturous, and then he's looking at you. his gaze fixed between your thighs with an intensity that makes you want to close your legs and hide but to be seen all at once as well.
"don't," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your inner knee. "let me see you. let me—"
he leans down, and then his mouth is on you, hot and wet and so fucking good you cry out, your back arching off the bed. he licks into you like he's been starving, like this is all he's wanted since the moment he saw you, and his tongue finds your clit with precision, circling and flicking and sucking until you're panting. your fingers tangled in the sheets.
"beomgyu—" you tangle your fingers in his hair, holding him there, and he hums against you, the vibration making you gasp. "fuck, don't stop, please—"
he doesn't. he works you with his mouth and his fingers. one sliding inside you, curling to find that spot that makes you see stars, then two, stretching you open while his tongue circles your clit with relentless and perfect pressure. you're panting, the pleasure building so fast it's almost frightening.
"i'm going to—i'm close—"
"come for me," he murmurs against you. "let me taste you, y/n. let me feel you fall apart. i've been dreaming about this."
you break. the orgasm crashes through unexpectedly and violent, and you cry out his name as your hips buck against his mouth. he doesn't stop until you're trembling, oversensitive, pushing at his shoulders. only then does he pull back, his eyes dark with satisfaction.
"beautiful," he says, climbing up your body to kiss you. you can taste yourself on his lips, and it sends a jolt of arousal through you.
"need you," you whisper against his mouth. "please, beomgyu. i need you inside me."
he reaches for his wallet on the nightstand, pulling out a condom with shaking hands. you watch him roll it on—his cock thick and hard, flushed dark, and your mouth waters at the sight, at the thought of taking him. he guides himself to your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your folds, and you moan at the contact, at the stretch as he begins to push inside.
"fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to yours. "you're so tight. so fucking perfect and wet for me."
he sinks in slowly, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to the fullness. by the time he's fully in, you're panting, your nails digging into his shoulders.
"move," you beg. "please, beomgyu, move—"
he pulls back and thrusts in, hard, and you cry out at the sensation. he sets a rhythm, deep and steady, each thrust hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision spark with light.
"look at me," he demands, his hand cupping your jaw, forcing your eyes to his. "stay with me, y/n. i want to see you. i want to watch you come apart on my cock."
you hold his gaze, and it's intimate. too intimate. the connection between you sparking as he fucks you with urgency, his hips snapping against yours, the sound of sex filling the room.
"you're so good," he pants, his voice breaking. "so perfect, taking me so well. i've wanted this since the moment i saw you. wanted to know what you'd feel like wrapped around me."
"beomgyu—"
"say my name again. let me hear it."
"beomgyu!" you arch against him as he hits that spot again. "beomgyu, i'm going to—"
"come with me," he begs, his thrusts losing their rhythm, becoming desperate and chasing his own release. "please, y/n, i need to feel you."
you shatter. the orgasm is deeper this time. you clench around him, and he groans, a broken sound, and then he's coming too—thrusting deep and holding there, pulsing inside you as he buries his face in your neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.
for a long moment, neither of you move. the only sound is your breathing, ragged and synchronizing slowly. he presses kisses to your shoulder, and to your collarbone softly.
"stay," he whispers against your skin. "don't go back to your room. stay here."
you should. you know you should. this is already too much.
"okay," you hear yourself say.
he pulls out carefully, dealing with the condom before crawling back into bed and pulling you against his chest.
"this doesn't mean anything," you say quietly, even though you don't believe it.
he tilts your chin up, making you meet his eyes. "liar," he says again, but he's smiling. "get some sleep, y/n. we have a return flight tomorrow.
he kisses your forehead and the tip of your nose. you fall asleep with his arms around you, knowing that tomorrow you'll have to face him across the galley, pretending this never happened.
knowing, too, that you'll be back in his bed the moment you land in seoul.
────୨ৎ────
a/n: i apologize for how long this took to upload. i originally promised it would be up on the 14th, but some family matters came up and took priority. this also isn’t as thoroughly proofread as i’d like because i haven’t had much time, but i hope this is okay and written somewhat well still!
⤷ word count — 8.6k
⤷ kinktober 2025 taglist — open !
⤷ permanent taglist — open !
⤷ warnings — smut (minors dni), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), rough sex, mean dom!beomgyu, bratty!reader, possessive!beomgyu, red flag!beomgyu (he’s a dick), markings (biting and hickies), idol!au, idol!beomgyu, non-idol!reader, established relationship, power imbalance, dirty talk, manhandling, fluff
.‧₊࿐ summary — choi beomgyu was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for—patient, affectionate, attentive in all the ways that mattered. to everyone else, you were the perfect couple. but perfection cracks. until one night—raised voices echoing through the kitchen, tension burning between you—beomgyu reminds you exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place.
When people imagined dating Choi Beomgyu, they always painted it in sunshine and soft laughter—rainbows strung between inside jokes, a boy who smiled too easily and laughed even easier.
And they weren’t wrong. Not really.
Beomgyu was warmth in human form. A walking spark of chaos who somehow managed to charm everyone he crossed paths with—members, staff, camera operators, even other idols unlucky enough to share a hallway with him during music show promotions.
He had a habit of popping into frames he didn’t belong in, pointing fingers dramatically, talking absolute nonsense until someone snapped and chased him away.
He lived for it. The reactions, the eye rolls, the screaming of his name echoing behind him as he sprinted off laughing like he’d just won something.
That no-nonsense, ‘I’ll-do-what-I-want’ attitude was what made him so endearing.
And as a boyfriend—he was sweet in ways that felt unfair.
Remembering the little things. Leaving notes where you’d find them hours later. Pulling you into hugs when he thought no one was looking—then doing it anyway even when they were.
Choi Beomgyu loved loudly. Easily. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And that was exactly why people imagined him as all sunshine and rainbows. They imagined laughter-filled apartments, soft kisses in passing, warmth that never dimmed.
Until it wasn’t.
Until the clock crept past midnight and the apartment felt too quiet for a place meant to be lived in by two people.
You sat on one end of the couch, legs tucked beneath you, arms crossed tightly over your chest—not because you were cold, but because you were annoyed. Irritated. Stewing.
The couch stretched wide between you and the empty space beside you, almost mockingly so. Something you and Beomgyu had splurged on years ago when you first moved in together, laughing about how dramatic it looked, how it would be perfect for lazy days and movie nights.
The TV in front of you played your shared favorite show, characters animated and expressive, mouths moving in silent laughter. You vaguely remembered muting it hours ago—at some point between checking your phone for the fifth time and realizing you were too irritated to care what was happening on screen.
Your gaze flicked upward.
12:26 AM.
You clicked your tongue, jaw tightening as your head tipped back against the couch.
“Seriously?” you muttered under your breath.
Another car passed by outside, headlights briefly flooding the living room with white light before disappearing down the street. You rolled your eyes, sinking deeper into the cushions, arms hugging yourself tighter.
Every sound had your attention snapping up. Every engine. Every shift of light through the window.
And every time, it wasn’t him.
You stared at the clock like it had personally betrayed you, counting each passing minute as if it owed you an explanation. Your phone lay face-down on the coffee table—untouched, because checking it again would only make things worse.
You exhaled slowly, eyes squeezing shut.
“You said you wouldn’t be late,” you whispered to the empty room, voice barely louder than the hum of the apartment.
The looming hour of the night only made the pressure behind your eyes worse. It had started as a dull throb sometime around eleven, but now it sat heavy at your temples, tightening with every passing minute.
The silence didn’t help either—too loud in its own way—broken only by the steady ticking of the oven timer you’d nearly forgotten about.
Your eyes snapped open.
“Oh—shit,” you muttered, pushing yourself off the couch.
You’d left the test batch in there.
The thought hit you all at once—the half-scrolled recipe pulled up on your phone, Beomgyu’s excited voice earlier that evening saying We should try this, it looks easy, the way he’d promised to help. Meaning he’d hover around the kitchen, steal pieces when he thought you weren’t looking, and proudly declare himself the taste tester.
The memory made your frown deepen.
You padded down the hallway connecting the living room to the kitchen, bare feet brushing softly against the wooden floor. The lights were dim, only the warm glow from the kitchen spilling into the space as you rounded the corner.
You grabbed the oven mitts off the counter—carelessly tossed over the still-warm stovetop earlier—and tugged one on hastily, shoving it down your wrist without much care.
The oven door creaked as you pulled it open.
Heat rushed out, blooming against your face. “Oh, thank God,” you sighed, shoulders sagging in relief.
They weren’t burnt. Slightly cracked on top, maybe, but still intact—rows of small, colorful macarons sitting neatly on the tray. You carefully pulled them out, setting the tray down on the counter with a soft clink. For a brief moment, a small smile tugged at your lips.
They were perfectly baked. Soft-looking. The kind Beomgyu would absolutely brag about to anyone who’d listen, even though he hadn’t been here for a second of it.
Your smile faded just as quickly as it came. Because right then—right on cue—you heard the engine of a familiar car slowing outside. Then dying down completely.
You let out a huff, tugging the oven mitt off and tossing it onto the counter. “Of course,” you muttered. “Of course you’d come home now.”
You dragged a hand through your hair, fingers catching on strands you didn’t bother fixing. You didn’t even straighten the hem of your shirt as you stepped away from the counter, the faint warmth of the kitchen following you back into the hallway.
Your sleep shorts hung loosely on your hips, fabric soft and worn-in, but you barely registered it. You didn’t care how you looked. Not tonight.
Beomgyu needed a scolding.
And he needed it bad—if he wanted to stay in your good graces.
Your footsteps were quiet as you crossed the living room again, heart already thudding a little harder than before. The front door unlocked moments later, followed by the familiar clatter of keys and the sound of shoes being kicked off without much thought.
Then you heard laughter. Faint, muffled through the thick wood of the door. A laugh you’d memorized by heart by now.
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as the sound carried through the hallway. “Deep breaths,” you muttered under your breath. “Deep breaths, (Y/N).”
You loved him. He loved you.
You forced a smile onto your face, even though it felt tight, unnatural. Reaching over the back of the loveseat, you grabbed the silk robe that had been discarded there earlier—probably yours, forgotten in the middle of the day—and slipped it on loosely as you made your way down the short hallway toward the door.
You didn’t bother peeking through the opaque glass panel beside it.
Instead, you opened the drawer by the entryway, fingers brushing past spare keys until you found the keycard. You pressed it against the sensor, the mechanical beep humming softly before you pushed down on the handle.
The door swung open—and the smell of alcohol hit you almost immediately.
Your nose scrunched instinctively, eyes narrowing at the sight in front of you.
Soobin stood there, looking far too sober for the situation, Beomgyu’s arm slung loosely around his shoulders as he struggled to keep your boyfriend upright. Beomgyu himself was swaying just slightly, cheeks flushed, hair a mess, a lazy grin plastered across his face like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Behind them, Yeonjun leaned against the van, waving sheepishly.
“Sorry, (Y/N)!” Yeonjun called out.
You smiled—but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Your gaze shifted back to Soobin, one brow lifting slowly.
“…Uh,” Soobin chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “What happened was—”
“What happened now?” you corrected calmly.
Soobin swallowed, then laughed again—smaller this time, nerves creeping into the sound. “Well… we won the music show.”
You just stood there, arms loosely crossed, gaze fixed on him with an expression that was unreadable at best. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, settling heavily on Soobin’s shoulders.
He winced.
“…Surprise?” he added, hopeful, voice lifting like he was testing thin ice.
Your eyebrow lifted higher.
“…No?” Soobin tried, already backpedaling. “Okay—yeah, we won, and your boyfriend here—” he shifted his grip as Beomgyu sagged further against him, “—might’ve had a little too much to drink.”
“Hey, baby,” Beomgyu chimed in warmly, voice soft and loose, a grin tugging at his lips like this was all one big joke.
You felt it then—the irritation curling tighter in your chest.
You didn’t look at him. Not even a glance. Your jaw set, fingers tightening slightly against your arm as you kept your eyes on Soobin instead, refusing to acknowledge Beomgyu’s presence until you were ready.
“What else?” you asked flatly.
Soobin straightened immediately. “Well—uh—we drove here. Not us. Obviously. Our manager,” he rushed out. “Because we both know drunk driving is illegal, right? I mean—”
“Yes, Soobin,” you cut in calmly, already stepping forward. “I get it. Thank you. I’ll take him from here.”
Soobin blinked, caught off guard by how composed you sounded. “Are you sure? I mean, I can help you escort him inside—”
You stepped back just enough to make space, expression tight but controlled. “Beomgyu’s just exaggerating.”
“I am,” Beomgyu snickered, trying to straighten. “I can walk. Let go of me.”
Soobin rolled his eyes and pushed Beomgyu’s arm off his shoulder. “Sure you can.”
You hummed softly, the sound more tired than amused. “Thank you for bringing him home alive. At least.”
Beomgyu opened his mouth, clearly about to protest—but one look from you had him snapping it shut. Your gaze cut to him briefly then—sharp, warning, unimpressed.
You turned back to Soobin, your expression easing just enough to be polite. “Thank you, Soobin. Please give Yeonjun my thanks too.”
Soobin nodded, already looking apologetic. “Good luck,” he muttered under his breath before stepping away.
You didn’t wait for goodbyes.
The moment Beomgyu stumbled inside, you stepped aside, hand already gripping the handle. You shut the door behind him with a firm click, locking it without hesitation.
Beomgyu turned toward you, still smiling like he hadn’t just walked straight into trouble.
You rolled your eyes, exhaling slowly through your nose. “Oh,” you muttered quietly, “this is going to be fun.”
You turned to face Beomgyu just as he started walking toward you. And honestly—you were almost impressed.
He was steady on his feet, posture loose but not stumbling, eyes bright in that tipsy, annoyingly charming way he got when he thought he was getting away with something.
Almost.
You didn’t acknowledge him. Not even a glance.
Instead, you turned on your heel and headed straight for the kitchen, bare feet padding against the wooden floor. “Stupid Choi Beomgyu,” you muttered under your breath. “And your stupid empty promises.”
He trailed after you immediately, pout already clear in his tone. “Hey—hey, why are you walking away?”
You moved behind the counter, grabbing the flat spatula from where you’d left it earlier—the one you used to gently pop the macarons off the baking sheet. You slid it under the first shell, careful, precise, like he hadn’t just walked in smelling like soju and bad decisions.
“Baby,” Beomgyu whined, leaning his elbows onto the counter across from you. “I missed you.”
You stayed silent, refusing to look up.
You continued working, sliding the spatula under each colorful macaron, lifting them one by one and setting them neatly aside. Like he wasn’t there. Like his presence wasn’t filling the kitchen, crowding the air, making it harder to breathe.
The smell of alcohol hit you again—stronger now. Soju clinging to him, sharp and unmistakable. His jacket from earlier was gone, probably abandoned somewhere by the door.
Beomgyu tilted his head, studying you. “(Y/N),” he said softly, dragging your name out. “Your boyfriend is home. You know that, right?”
You raised a brow, eyes still fixed on the macarons.
“The last time I checked,” you said sharply, finally looking at him, “I didn’t have a boyfriend who forgot he had a girlfriend waiting at home.”
Beomgyu blinked—once, twice. “…What?”
“No?” you continued, voice tight, controlled. “Does that not ring a bell? Or did the alcohol wipe that out too?”
He straightened slightly, caught off guard. The lazy smile faded, confusion flashing across his face as he processed your tone. His posture shifted—suddenly more aware, more present. The kitchen lights flickered for a brief second, casting his shadow taller against the wall.
You ignored it.
You tugged the robe tighter around yourself with one hand, muttering, “Such a fucking bother,” before carelessly tossing it aside onto the empty counter. You transferred the already-set macarons onto a clean tray laid out in front of you, movements a little sharper now, less patient.
Beomgyu hummed, trying to sound casual. “I did tell you I was going to be late.”
Your grip tightened around the spatula. You physically had to stop yourself from throwing it at him as you inhaled deeply.
“You said late,” you said slowly, every word clipped. “Not drunk, Choi Beomgyu. There’s a difference, you fucking idiot.”
You felt his eyes on you—felt them tracking every movement as you kept your head down, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing your face just yet. The kitchen felt too small, the air thick, heavy with the tension you were barely containing.
You muttered under your breath as you worked, but you didn’t bother lowering your voice. You wanted him to hear.
You sorted through the macarons with rougher movements now, separating the cracked, uneven ones from the perfect shells. The soft clack of them against the tray sounded louder than it should’ve.
“You said we were going to make these together,” you said, voice trembling just slightly. “You said you actually wanted to try.”
You turned, grabbing a plate from the rack, the ceramic clinking sharply as you set it down.
“And instead,” you continued, harsh and bitter, “I look like some lovesick idiot waiting up for her apparently drunk boyfriend to come home from work.”
Your chest tightened.
“Me,” you scoffed. “I’m the stupid idiot.”
“Did I want this life?” you whispered bitterly. “No. I didn’t.”
You moved toward the fridge, stopping just short of the handle. Your hand hovered there, fingers trembling slightly as you stared at it, thoughts racing—about fillings, about ruining them, about whether you even had the energy to finish what you started.
About whether you had the energy for him.
With a sharp exhale, you decided against it.
You yanked the fridge open instead, the cold air hitting your face as you grabbed a can of soda. The chill bit into your palm as you hissed softly, slamming the door shut behind you.
Only then did you turn around.
Beomgyu stood there, expression no longer playful, no longer smug. Just quiet. Watching. His posture had straightened, shoulders tense as he followed you with his eyes while you paced the kitchen, movements sharp, restless.
You gestured vaguely with the can. “You could’ve called me, Beomgyu.”
He shifted then—finally moving—rounding the counter slowly, until he stopped right in front of you. He leaned back against the marble countertop, arms braced behind him like he was settling in, not cornered. Like he wasn’t standing on thin ice.
You squinted at him.
He tilted his head slightly, gaze steady, almost expectant. Like he was urging you to keep going.
That alone made your irritation spike.
You rolled your eyes, setting the soda can down on the counter behind you with a sharp clink. “I’m waiting,” you said flatly. “For you to defend yourself. Do something. Literally anything to protect the remaining good image I have of you in my head.”
Your laugh was short, humorless. “Or are you just going to stand there and stare at me?”
Beomgyu sighed, head tipping back for a second. “What do you want me to say?”
He raised a brow, posture still relaxed—but he still towered over you, presence heavy, unavoidable.
“I’m sorry, okay?” he said, softer now. “Baby, I truly am. I don’t know what to say to you, so I’m here apologizing.”
You stared at him. Then you stepped closer—just one step—closing the space between you as you pointed a finger at his chest.
“Why do you sound like you have no idea what you just did?”
That made him huff, irritation flickering across his face. He pushed off the counter, standing fully upright now, removing any trace of casualness.
“Look, (Y/N),” he said, voice tightening, “I’m trying to apologize. And if you don’t want my apology—”
You ground your teeth together, hands curling into fists at your sides as you cut him off, voice low but shaking with restraint.
“Oh my fucking God, Beomgyu,” you hissed. “I don’t need you to apologize. I need you to own up to your fucking mistakes.”
You took another breath, chest rising sharply.
“Who comes home drunk and acts like he doesn’t have someone waiting for him at home?” you demanded. “Who does that?”
The frown came quick, deepening between Beomgyu’s brows. “That wasn’t my intention,” he said, running a hand down his face. “I was already tired. I was snappy.”
He exhaled, frustration bleeding into his tone. “I just worked twelve hours straight. I had to rerecord half my lines because I kept messing up, and the staff insisted we unwind. I couldn’t exactly say no to that.”
All you heard were excuses.
You rolled your eyes again, the motion sharp enough that Beomgyu noticed.
“You couldn’t have told me?” you shot back.
He scoffed under his breath. “We’re going around in circles.”
You bit back the tears burning at the corners of your eyes, refusing to let them fall. “I don’t even ask for much, Beomgyu,” you said, voice cracking despite yourself. “I just want you to know that you have me to call when you’re going through shit.”
You pressed a hand to your chest, breath unsteady. “I’m here for a damn reason.”
Beomgyu stepped forward abruptly, closing the distance completely. “Maybe I didn’t call you,” he snapped, “because I didn’t want to burden you even more.”
His voice was louder now, sharper. “Is that so hard to understand?”
You took a step back.
The heel of your foot caught against the tile, breath stuttering as your brows furrowed. Your chest felt too tight, like every inhale scraped your lungs raw. You didn’t even lower your voice. Didn’t care if the neighbors heard, if someone knocked tomorrow with a complaint—you were already past the point of embarrassment.
“Yes,” you hissed, jaw clenched, eyes blazing. “Because right now, you’re nothing but a jerk.”
The word left your mouth sharp and ugly, and once it was out, everything else followed.
“For the past weeks,” you continued, hands curling into fists at your sides, nails biting into your palms, “all you’ve been saying is that you want to make it up to me.”
Your laugh was humorless, brittle.
“And yet all you’ve been doing is coming home late—”
Your voice faltered. You turned your head just slightly, swallowing hard as a lump rose in your throat, burning. You hated that your body betrayed you like this.
When you looked back at him, Beomgyu was staring down at you—eyes dark and intense.
It only made the anger surge harder.
“Stop acting like nobody cares about you, goddammit,” you snapped, stepping forward this time, finger twitching like you wanted to point it straight into his chest. “You’re already a hard worker. You don’t need to keep killing yourself to prove your worth to anyone—”
Your chest rose and fell rapidly now, breaths shallow and uneven. The words were tumbling out faster, anger bleeding into hurt you’d been holding back for far too long.
“I feel like I’m being used,” you said, quieter—but it landed heavier than anything you’d shouted.
Beomgyu’s shoulders stiffened. His jaw tightened.
“You come home drunk,” you went on, voice shaking, eyes stinging, “to a clean house and a cold dinner because you never bother showing up anymore.”
Your hands clenched again, knuckles white. “I wait,” you snapped. “I wait, and I wait, and I tell myself you’re just busy—”
Your voice cracked, and that was what finally pushed you over the edge.
“All you do is come home to get fucked,” you spat, the words ugly and raw as they tore out of you. “And it’s fucking pissing me off.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
It slammed into the room, thick and suffocating. The hum of the fridge suddenly sounded too loud. Your ears rang.
Beomgyu’s eyes widened—just for a split second—before his expression hardened completely. His mouth pressed into a thin line as he straightened to his full height, towering over you without even trying.
“I come home to get fucked?” he repeated slowly, disbelief dripping from every syllable.
He scoffed, running a hand through his hair, fingers curling at the roots like he was holding himself back.
“Do you even hear yourself right now?” he shot back, voice tight, offended—hurt in a way that made your stomach twist painfully.
He stepped closer again, closing the already minimal space between you. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension thick enough to choke on.
“You think that’s all this is?” he demanded, eyes flashing. “You think I come home just to—what—use you?”
He laughed, short and bitter, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That’s what you think of me?” he said, quieter now—but somehow sharper. “After everything?”
You sneer up at him, anger coming off you in waves as you tilt your head in mockery. “Yes,” you spit, the word sharp and jagged. “Because you’ve been treating your own girlfriend like shit for the past months, and I’m fucking tired of it, Choi Beomgyu.”
His name hangs in the air, a final, damning blow. For a split second, his face is a mask of pure shock, the flashing anger in his eyes extinguished by a sudden, cold dawning.
Then, a sound rips from his throat—a laugh, but it’s completely devoid of humor. It’s bitter, dry, and utterly chilling. He leans down, not close enough to make you stumble back, but just enough to invade your space, to make you feel trapped.
A slow, predatory smile engulfs his face, twisting his handsome features into something menacing. “Or,” he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous rumble, “is that what you need, you fucking brat?”
You blink, the sudden shift in the atmosphere catching you completely off guard. “What the fuck are you talking about?” you demand, your voice losing some of its fire in your confusion.
He sneers down at you, the expression a perfect, cruel mirror of your own from moments before. He tried to be understanding, he really did. The thought is a bitter pill in his own mind, a justification he’s been chewing on for weeks.
Because despite him coming home late and drunk, he surprised you the next day with your favorite flowers. His gaze flicks towards the living room, and he watches your eyes follow his, seeing the bouquet on the coffee table as if for the first time.
And he was pretty sure the ones he got you three days ago were sitting snugly in one of the glass vases inside your shared bedroom. He watches the shame creep up your neck, the faint blush that betrays your anger, and a cold satisfaction settles in his gut.
Just last week, he got you that bag you were eyeing when he and Taehyun stopped by Dior. And he was pretty sure that was on top of your vanity mirror a few days ago.
He takes another step, crowding you against the wall, and he feels the faint tremor that runs through your body. You weren’t mad at him for being late and drunk. Well, a little, maybe, he concedes internally, a dark part of him reveling in your conflict. But you needed somebody to put you back in your place.
He’s so close now he can see the flecks of brown in your dark eyes, can smell the faint, sharp scent of whiskey mixed with the sweet vanilla of your perfume.
And a little fucking discipline is what Beomgyu’s good at. A cruel smirk plays on his lips. Or really, memorizing your body more than you do.
He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a ghost of a touch that’s more of a threat than a kiss. He mockingly smiles, his mouth hovering just over yours.
“What?” he purrs, the vibration of his voice sending a jolt straight through you. “Now you’re shutting up? Weren’t you berating me just now?” He pulls back just enough to look you in the eye, his expression one of smug, triumphant amusement. “Cat got your tongue?”
You could feel your ears ringing as the heat on your face beat at you, a traitorous blush that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with his suffocating presence.
You stutter out a response, the words catching in your throat. “Th-this is what I mean when you act all high and mighty—”
But Beomgyu was quick to shut you up. His hand shot out, fingers wrapping firmly around your jaw, his thumb pressing into the soft flesh of your cheek.
His other arm snaked around your waist, yanking you flush against him until there was no space left, not even for air. A shit-eating grin spread across his face as he leaned in, pressing a singular, infuriatingly soft kiss to the tip of your nose.
“Let fucking go of me,” you muttered, your voice muffled by his hold. “You’re drunk, Beomgyu.”
He pouts, the mocking expression never leaving his face as he says, “What happened to calling me ‘baby,’ huh?” He leans closer, and you flinch at the strong smell of soju in every breath he takes, the sharp, alcoholic fumes mixing with the faint sweetness of the yogurt they probably mixed it with.
He whispers, his voice a low, conspiratorial taunt, “I may be drunk, but I’m never too drunk to know if my girl misses me being inside her.”
You open your mouth to protest, a fresh wave of indignation rising, only for him to press his mouth against yours. The taste of soju, sharp and acidic, mixed with the faint, creamy tang of yogurt, overtook your senses as Beomgyu kissed you, deeply.
It wasn’t a kiss of passion but of punishment, his lips moving against yours with a bruising force. You tried to push him away, your hands flattening against his firm chest, but he was an immovable wall.
Just as you were about to give in, he let go, pulling back with a wet sound. He pressed a chaste, almost gentle kiss to your forehead, a stark contrast to the assault on your lips.
He smiles down at you, his eyes dark and glinting. “There, all better now?”
You sneer at him, the furious flush on your cheeks betraying the venom in your expression. “I’m not kissing and fucking you when you’re drunk, Beomgyu. Get your hands off of me.”
He hums, a low, thoughtful sound that vibrates through his chest and into yours. “I don’t think so.” His grip on your waist tightens. “You’ve been nothing but a whiny brat the moment I got home.”
You try to step back, but he only pulls you closer, making your frown deepen into a look of pure, unadulterated anger. “For the hundredth fucking time,” you seethe, “this is what I mean! All you do is come home and expect me to be ready and have my legs spread for you—”
Only for him to pull you closer by your face, your cheeks squishing in his hold. He looks down at you with a single, unimpressed raised brow.
“Excuse me?” he says, his voice dripping with condescending sweetness. “Did I say you could stop kissing me and start talking? Because I don’t recall giving you that option.”
He was quick to spin you around, so your front was pressed against the cold marble of the counter. The sudden shock of the chilled surface against your bare skin made you yelp, a sharp, indignant sound that was swallowed by the cavernous kitchen.
Beomgyu’s hands clamped down on your waist, his grip like iron, keeping you pinned in place as you squirmed.
“Choi Beomgyu, let me go this instant!” you huffed, trying to push yourself up, but his body weight was an unmovable force behind you.
He simply chuckled, a low, dark sound that vibrated through his chest and into your back. In one fluid motion, he gathered both of your wrists and held them firmly behind you with one of his large hands, rendering you helpless.
He leaned forward, the heat of his breath fanning over the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold counter. “I don’t think you deserve to be listened to right now, baby,” he murmured, his voice a silken threat.
Beomgyu hummed, his lips brushing against your earlobe. “Because you wouldn’t let me apologize, no?”
You opened your mouth to retort, to tell him exactly where he could shove his half-assed apology, but he chose that exact moment to tug at the waistband, letting the elastic snap back against your skin with a sharp sting. You squeaked, the sound pathetic and utterly betraying your defiant posture.
A smirk was evident in his voice as he said, “I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already acting like a bitch in heat.”
You groaned in pure, unadulterated annoyance, your cheek pressed against the unforgiving marble. “I didn’t even ask for this, you asshole!”
Beomgyu raised a brow, a gesture you couldn’t see but could feel in the shift of his weight. His hand abandoned your waistband, traveling with agonizing slowness to cup your clothed pussy.
You instinctively tried to keep his hand away by shutting your legs together, clamping your thighs tight, but that only fueled him.
The pressure of his palm was a constant, maddening presence as his fingers began to trace the seam of your shorts, following the lines of your folds through the fabric with a precision that made your breath hitch.
He clicked his tongue, a sound of condescending disappointment. “Oh really?” he drawled, his voice thick with sarcasm.
“Your body seems to be telling a very different story. It’s practically begging for it, isn’t it? All this resistance… it’s just for show, isn’t it, baby? You love this.”
You tried to push yourself away, but the movement was clumsy and desperate. It only served to arch your back, pressing your ass more firmly against the hard line of his cock straining against his jeans.
Beomgyu released a sound that was a mix of intrigue and approval, a low, satisfied hum that vibrated through you.
“See what I mean?” he murmured, his lips ghosting over the nape of your neck. “For being such a whore for me?”
The crude word made you gasp, a sharp intake of air that was cut short as he suddenly hooked his thumbs into your shorts and yanked them down. They didn’t fall to the floor, instead bunching up around your mid-thighs, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. The cool air of the kitchen kissed your heated skin.
“This is what I mean!” you cried out, your voice trembling with a mixture of rage and unwanted arousal. “You only see me as some sort of fucktoy and not as your girlf—”
Before you could even finish the word, Beomgyu’s hands were on you, cupping the soft flesh of your ass. His fingers were cold, a stark contrast to the heat blooming under your skin, and the sensation made you flinch. He traced the curve of your ass, his touch possessive.
“And I need you to stop talking,” he commanded, his voice losing its playful edge and hardening with authority.
He leaned closer, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the skin of your exposed shoulder. He wasn’t gentle; he sucked and nipped, leaving a trail of dark, possessive hickies in his wake.
You tried to hold back the moans that were threatening to spill from your lips, pressing them into a thin, defiant line, but the pleasure was a potent drug.
Beomgyu hummed against your skin, the sound a deep rumble. “Still not gonna say anything?” he teased. As if to answer his own question, his fingers found your slick folds, caressing the heated, sensitive skin with an expertise that made your knees weak.
He chuckled, the sound dark and triumphant. “Bold of you to push me away while you’re this wet for me.”
You hissed out a strangled, “F-fuck you.”
A teasingly cruel smile spread across his face. “That’s what I’m trying to do here, baby,” he whispered, and slowly, he let one finger sink into you. You moaned aloud at the intrusion, the sound raw and unrestrained.
“Now shut up and let me talk,” he said, his voice deceptively calm as he suddenly pushed a second finger in, stretching you. You instinctively leaned forward, your elbows hitting the cold marble of the counter for support as your body trembled.
“You’re accusing me of being a bad boyfriend,” he stated, curling his fingers just right, stroking that sensitive spot inside you that made you see stars. You moaned out a broken, “Ngh—you are!”
Beomgyu clicked his tongue, a sound of sharp disapproval. He removed his hold on your wrists, letting you support yourself, but your freedom was short-lived.
He grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back and pulling you flush against his chest. You whined at the sharp, pleasurable pain of the pull.
He snarled against your ear, “I’m such a bad boyfriend that I’m fingering you right now, huh?” He began to pump his fingers in and out of you in a relentless, punishing rhythm that made you shudder and clench around him.
“I’m such a bad boyfriend for letting you wait up on me while I’m stuck in the studio, making money to keep a roof over our heads,” he continued, his voice dripping with venom. “And a pretty damn big one at that.”
He scissored his fingers inside you, stretching you wider, making you moan out in pure, unadulterated pleasure. “Ah, fuck,” you cried out, the fight completely draining out of you, replaced by the overwhelming need for release.
The sound of your surrender seemed to be the only thing he’d been waiting for.
Beomgyu’s grip on your hair loosened, but only so his hand could slide down to grip your jaw, turning your head just enough to capture your mouth in a bruising, possessive kiss. It was all teeth and tongue—claiming you, swallowing your moans as his fingers continued their relentless assault between your legs.
“Look at you,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick with lust and a dark satisfaction. “All that fight… and it all melts away the second I touch you. You’re so easy, baby. So fucking easy for me.”
His words were meant to humiliate, but they only stoked the fire building in your core. He was right. You hated that he was right. With a final, deliberate curl of his fingers against that sensitive spot, the coil in your stomach snapped.
“That’s it,” he growled, his voice a low, triumphant rumble against your ear. “I can practically feel you squeezing my fingers. Lie to me again, baby. Tell me you don’t want this when you’re cumming all over my fingers.”
Your orgasm crashed over you with the force of a tidal wave, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your body convulsed, your inner walls clamping down around his fingers.
Your vision went white, and for a moment, the only things that existed were the cold marble beneath your hands and the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through you.
He didn’t stop, drawing out your climax until you were a trembling, whimpering mess, completely boneless against the counter.
Only then did he slowly withdraw his fingers, leaving you feeling achingly empty. He brought them to his lips, his eyes locked on yours as he cleaned your arousal from them with a slow swipe of his tongue.
“See?” he murmured, his voice a low, triumphant purr. “I’m not such a bad boyfriend after all, am I? I always give you what you need.”
Beomgyu’s grip on your hair tightened suddenly, yanking harder until your scalp burned with the sharp pull, forcing your back to arch sharply against his chest.
The cool air hit your exposed skin, contrasting the heat radiating from his body as he molded himself to you, his free hand sliding possessively over your hip. You gasped, the lingering waves of your orgasm making every sensation feel amplified, your body still quivering uncontrollably.
“Now,” he drawled, his voice twisting back into that sickeningly sweet condescension, like honey laced with venom, “are you ready to listen to my apology?”
He held you there, waiting, his breath hot against your ear.
But all that escaped your lips were small, ragged pants as you struggled to catch your breath, your chest heaving, mind foggy from the intensity. The words wouldn’t form—couldn’t form—your throat tight and raw from the cries you’d already let out.
Beomgyu cooed mockingly, the sound dripping with false sympathy. “Aww, what’s the matter, sweetheart? Did I just fuck the fight right out of you?”
His free hand moved with slowness, fingers deftly popping the button of his jeans. The zipper rasped down, and he shoved the fabric along with his boxers past his hips in one fluid motion, freeing his throbbing cock. It sprang heavy and hot against your ass, the length of it pressing insistently as he moved closer.
He leaned in, lips brushing feather-light kisses along the side of your neck, trailing up to your jaw. Each press of his mouth sent shivers racing down your spine, a mix of tenderness and control that made your knees weaken further.
“I can take any insult you throw at me, (Y/N),” he whispered, his tone laced with that condescending edge, deliberately omitting the sweet nicknames he usually peppered in—like ‘baby’ or ‘darling’—the absence hitting you like a chill, making your body shiver involuntarily against him.
“But calling me a bad boyfriend? Accusing me of just using you for this tight little body?” He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating through his chest into yours. “That’s just absurd.”
The leaking tip of his aching cock nudged against your dripping folds, slick with your release, rubbing teasingly along the sensitive slit. You whimpered at the contact, hips twitching forward instinctively, but he held you firm with that iron grip in your hair.
A hiss escaped his lips as he coated himself in your wetness, the heat of him making your core clench around nothing. “Don’t fucking say words you don’t mean,” he growled, voice roughening with restrained hunger.
“Might I remind you who was there for me when I was still worth nothing?”
Your response dissolved into a deep, throaty moan the instant the swollen head of his cock breached your entrance, stretching your aching walls as it pushed past your folds and sank into your cunt.
The burn of the intrusion mixed with the fullness you craved, your body yielding to him despite the emotional storm raging inside.
“Who takes care of me when I’m sick and can’t even talk shit, huh?” He pushed in another inch, deliberate and slow, savoring the way your inner muscles fluttered around him.
The added pressure drew a sharp moan from you—“Beomgyu—!”—your voice breaking on his name, hands scrabbling against the marble for purchase.
He hummed in response, a smug vibration rumbling from his throat as he nuzzled into your neck, teeth grazing your skin. “Hmm? Or who talked to my mom for hours on end, just because you wanted to keep me well-fed and happy on my birthdays?”
Without warning, he surged forward, slamming the rest of his length deep inside you in one brutal thrust. Every thick vein and rigid ridge dragged against your sensitive walls, seating him perfectly, filling you to the hilt until you felt him in your gut.
A broken “Hah—fuck!” tore from your throat, followed by a choked moan as tears pricked at your eyes from the overwhelming stretch.
Your body arched further under his hold, pussy clenching greedily around his cock, milking him as if begging for more despite the ache.
Beomgyu tugged your hair just the slightest bit more, tilting your head back so he could whisper directly into your ear, his hips grinding in a slow circle to emphasize his point.
“Not gonna fight back?” He smirked to himself when all he heard in return were your small moans and whimpers, no trace of the earlier defiance.
“Mhmm, because you know I’m right,” he purred, voice smug as he began to move—shallow thrusts at first, each one pulling a fresh gasp from your lips.
His hand on your hip dug in, bruising fingers guiding your body to meet him, while the one in your hair kept you arched and exposed, utterly at his mercy.
A low chuckle rumbled from Beomgyu’s chest, vibrating against your ear as his lips ghosted over the sensitive shell. His fingers twisted tighter in your strands, the pull sending fresh sparks of pain-laced pleasure shooting down your spine, keeping you locked in that vulnerable bow.
He peppered open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of your neck, teeth nipping at the tender skin just enough to mark without breaking, his breath hot and ragged as he maintained his relentless rhythm.
Each thrust into your soaked pussy was powerful—like he hadn’t downed at least twenty shots of soju alone earlier that night—his hips snapping forward with a force that jolted your entire body against the counter’s edge, the marble biting into your palms.
“You really are such a funny girl, baby,” he hissed through clenched teeth, the words laced with that mocking affection as his cock dragged deep inside you, stretching your walls with every plunge.
The slick sounds of skin slapping skin filled the kitchen, mingling with your shared gasps, the air thick with the musky scent of sex and spilled alcohol from the nearby bottles.
“Makes me want to knock you up—fill this greedy cunt until you’re leaking me for days.”
The crude promise twisted something deep in your core, heat flooding your veins as his tip battered against that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
“Gyu—fuck, right there!” you moaned, the plea spilling out unbidden, your voice hoarse and desperate, body betraying any lingering resistance as you pushed back to meet him.
He obliged without mercy, his pace quickening into a brutal one, hips pistoning faster as sweat beaded on his brow, dripping onto your shoulder. The friction built an inferno inside you, his thick shaft splitting you open with each drive, veins pulsing against your clenching heat.
Beomgyu hummed approvingly, the sound vibrating through his teeth as he latched onto your neck again, sucking a fresh bruise into the flesh. “Or maybe you are right, you know,” he murmured against your skin, voice dropping to a taunting drawl between grunts.
“All talk until you get dicked down. Maybe deep inside, you do know you’re just a little slut for me, aren’t you?”
Your response came as a breathless moan, hand flying to his arm where his fingers clamped like a vice around your waist, nails digging into his skin in a futile bid for leverage. The pressure coiled tighter in your belly, a familiar ache blooming hot and insistent as his words sank in, stoking the fire.
“Fuck—yes—” you cried out, the admission fracturing into a whine, your thighs trembling as you teetered on the edge, every nerve alight with the building ecstasy.
Beomgyu hummed again, a satisfied rumble as he bit down on your neck, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make you arch further, the sharp sting blending seamlessly with the pleasure radiating from your core.
His grip on your hair eased just a fraction, loosening enough to let you crane your head to the side even more, offering him better access to your throat without the burn crossing into true pain.
The shift allowed a sliver of relief, your neck muscles sighing in gratitude even as he continued to pound into you, his balls slapping rhythmically against your clit with each forceful entry.
“Fuck, baby, you’re squeezing me so tight,” he muttered, voice strained and wrecked, his forehead dropping to rest heavily against your shoulder.
The warmth of his skin seeped into yours, his breaths coming in sharp bursts as he felt your walls flutter erratically around his length. “Are you close?”
You tried to nod, the tug on your hair limiting the motion to a jerky tilt, but the affirmation dissolved into another moan, high and keening, as his cock hit that devastating angle again.
The coil in your stomach wound unbearably tight, threatening to snap at any second, your vision blurring at the edges with the intensity.
Beomgyu hissed through his teeth, his thrusts growing erratic, hips stuttering as he chased his own release.
“Cum with me,” he commanded, the words a rough growl against your skin, one hand sliding up to pinch your nipple sharply, twisting just enough to shove you over.
As if on command, your body obeyed, spasming wildly around his cock in a vice-like grip. Waves of pleasure crashed through you, your pussy gushing hot juices that flowed down his length, soaking his thighs and dripping onto the floor below.
The orgasm ripped a scream from your throat, muffled only by the way your face pressed into your arm, every muscle seizing as ecstasy pulsed through your veins. Beomgyu followed seconds later, a guttural groan tearing from him as he buried himself to the hilt one final time.
Thick ropes of cum painted the inside of your walls white and hot, flooding your depths until you felt deliciously full, the warmth spreading like liquid fire. He shuddered against you, cock twitching with aftershocks as he emptied himself completely, marking you from the inside out.
With a gentle push, he guided your head forward, releasing the last of his hold on your hair so you could support yourself fully on your arms against the cool marble.
Your elbows buckled slightly under the weight, but you managed, pants escaping in heavy waves as your chest heaved, lungs burning from the exertion. The counter’s chill seeped into your flushed skin, grounding you as the high ebbed, leaving you boneless and spent.
Beomgyu’s hand finally loosened completely from your hair, both palms now gripping your hips in a softer hold, thumbs stroking soothing circles over the bruises he’d left.
He panted against your back, his own breaths ragged and uneven, sweat-slicked chest rising and falling in time with yours. “Fuck, baby, you did so well,” he rasped, voice thick with lingering lust and a hint of genuine awe, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder blade.
Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled out, the wet slide of his softening cock leaving you achingly empty once more.
He watched, transfixed, as your mixed juices spilled out from your abused pussy with ease—creamy white strands of his cum mingling with your clear arousal, trickling down your inner thighs in obscene rivulets.
The sight drew a low hum of approval from him, his fingers tracing lightly over the mess, smearing it further before he caught himself.
He leaned over you then, his body draping warmly as one arm wrapped around your waist to steady you, lips brushing your temple. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled, the words tumbling out in a soft, exhausted whisper, guilt flickering through the post-orgasm haze as reality crept back in.
Beomgyu grinned from ear to ear, the expression quickly masking the soft contentment in his eyes with his usual shit-eating smirk, all cocky charm and zero remorse.
“I know,” he said simply, the two words dripping with smug satisfaction as he nuzzled into your hair, inhaling your scent like it was his favorite drug.
You rolled your eyes in annoyance, a weak huff escaping despite the way your body still hummed from him, too drained to muster real irritation. The audacity of him—turning your apology into his victory lap—made your lips twitch, even as affection warmed your chest.
Shifting slightly, Beomgyu reached past you to the drawer beside the sink, pulling out a clean towel with efficient movements. He unfolded it gently, kneeling a bit to carefully wipe over the wetness dripping down your thighs, the soft fabric absorbing the evidence of your union with tender strokes.
You hissed at the initial contact, oversensitive nerves firing in protest, your legs twitching involuntarily.
“Sorry, baby,” he murmured sheepishly, his smile turning boyish and apologetic as he lightened his touch, focusing on cleaning you up without causing more discomfort.
His free hand rubbed slow, soothing patterns on your lower back, easing the lingering tremors in your muscles. He stood up, his movements fluid as he pulled his own boxers up to hide his softening cock.
Then, with surprising gentleness, he tugged your shorts back up over your hips, the fabric feeling soft and familiar against your sensitive skin. He pressed a trail of soft kisses along your shoulder, a stark contrast to the possessive marks he’d left there just moments before.
“I’m gonna clean you up properly once we get to bed, okay?” he whispered, his voice warm and sincere.
You only grumbled in response, a small pout forming on your lips as you buried your face in your arms. “Gyu… the macarons…”
Beomgyu blinked at you, his expression shifting from apologetic to one of pure, incredulous disbelief. He slowly turned you around to face him, his hands resting on your hips as he stared down at you.
“I literally just fucked you stupid against the kitchen counter,” he said, his voice flat with astonishment. “And you’re worrying about some stupid macarons?”
You huffed, pushing his chest lightly. “You’re the one who wanted them!”
The sheer absurdity of it all broke the tension, and he laughed, a soft, genuine sound that made your heart flutter despite your annoyance. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ll clean that up, and then we can finish them up tomorrow, okay?”
You tilted your head slightly, still pouting as you mumbled, “But you have a shoot tomorrow…”
Beomgyu just shrugged, placing a hand on your lower back as he urged you softly to get out of the kitchen, guiding you along with him. “I took the week off.”
You blinked up at him, truly surprised this time. “What—”
He pinched your nose lightly, making you squint your eyes at him in scrutiny. “That’s what I was about to say, until you closed the door on me and started nagging at me the second I walked in.”
You rolled your eyes, letting him guide you towards the stairs. “Who comes home drunk and uttering absolute nonsense—”
He placed a finger over your lips, effectively silencing your rant. “We’re already past this, baby. Now come on and let me pamper you.”
You grumbled in reluctant agreement, making him smile as he guided you up the stairs, his arm a warm presence around your waist.
It was a really good idea, he thought, that he’d gone ring shopping before getting wasted with the rest of the members.
Otherwise, you’d probably kill him for proposing with a Ring Pop instead of the four-carat diamond he had tucked away in the pocket of his jacket, which was currently thrown haphazardly on the kitchen floor.
