oh beom-seok and popular girl? 🫶🏻
A/N: He's such a cutie I hate what he did :(
Title: Little Miss Popular
Pairings: Oh Beom-seok x Fem! Reader
Warnings: Sexual Content (it felt right), kissing, idk what else.
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
Beom-seok had always figured girls like you dated boys with easy smiles and louder laughs. Boys who didn’t flinch at affection or worry that love was a trap waiting to be sprung. You, with your shiny lip gloss and sunshine laugh, with hands always touching someone—braiding your friends hair here, a hug there—your life looked like it belonged in a movie.
His looked like CCTV footage.
You were the type of girl who walked down the hallway and made people look. Not because you tried—just because you were. Pretty, popular, always with a few friends orbiting you like satellites. The type to plan parties, Carry a cup with you everywhere, and post photo dumps on Instagram with captions like “this night felt like a movie”.
He was the boy in the background of those photos. But somehow, you saw him.
“You don’t talk much, huh?” you said the first time you really spoke to him. Beom-seok hadn’t even realized you were talking to him at first. His shoulders tensed as he looked up from his phone. “...Not really.” You smiled like that didn’t scare you. “That’s okay. I talk enough for two. I think it's kinda cute.”
And it started like that. You in the cafeteria—sliding into the seat across from him, a little too bright for the dull fluorescent light. Him, heart hammering every time you leaned in, every time you touched his arm when you laughed.
He didn’t understand why you kept choosing him. When your phone buzzed with party invites and friends wanted you at karaoke nights, you always texted: “Wanna come?” He usually said no. You usually show up at his place with takeout instead of going.
You’d kick off your shoes like you lived there, flop onto his floor with food, and talk about all the chaos in your life.
“Everyone thinks I have it perfect,” you said once, digging through your food. “But you’d be surprised how lonely being liked by everyone is.” Beom-seok had looked at you, blinking. Because how could you feel anything less than adored?
“Sometimes,” you continued, eyes soft, “I feel like no one actually knows me. But you look at me like you see me.” He didn’t know what to say. So he just said the truth.
Dating you was like learning how to breathe underwater.
Everything in Beom-seok’s life was sharp, cold, and too quiet. His father’s footsteps down the hall still made his stomach flip. His own silence was a survival tactic, not a choice.
But you held his hand like it was worth holding. You hugged him like he was worth hugging. You loved him like he was worth loving. You dragged him into sunlight. You introduced him to your friends—though most raised eyebrows. Some asked "Why him?"
But you answered every time:
“Because he makes me feel safe.”
And Beom-seok didn’t say it, but he thought it constantly: Because you make me feel human. Like he wasn’t broken. Like he could be more than what his past tried to shape him into.
Of course, it wasn’t easy.
Once, he overheard someone say you were “wasting time” dating him.
Another time, he saw a rumor online that he was just a rebound. It tore at the parts of him he tried to hide. He distanced himself. Stopped replying to texts. Started skipping school.
You showed up at his house, eyes glassy with frustration and worry. “Why are you pushing me away?” you demanded. “Is it because of what people are saying?”
Beom-seok didn’t answer. “Do you not want to be with me anymore?” He looked at you—really looked at you—and it cracked his chest open.
“No,” he said. “I want to be with you so much it scares me.” You exhaled, a breath caught between a laugh and a cry.
“You idiot. I chose you. I keep choosing you. Let me love you, even if it’s hard—especially when it’s hard.” And Beom-seok—for the first time in a long time—let himself be loved.
Sometimes he still wonders how a girl made of sparkles and attention fell for someone like him. But then you smile at him like he hung the moon.
You paint his nails with pink polish and kiss his scars like they aren’t ugly, and he thinks maybe broken boys and golden girls can love each other after all.
Even if they come from different worlds—even if it’s messy. Because your love is the first thing he’s ever had that felt real, and he’d die for that.
Sex started slow, like everything with Beom-seok. Your first kiss was 3 months into the relationship, Your first makeout not long after. Each time you initiated something intimate, he thought it was a joke—pushing away until he remembered you were his. Only his, no one else's.
You were curled up on his bed, legs tangled with his, head on his chest. You were watching something on TV, some action movie. His fingers absentmindedly brushed your waist under your hoodie—his hoodie. He never wore it anymore. You'd practically claimed it the day you started dating.
He was quiet, like always. With you, Beom-seok didn’t feel the need to talk much. You understood the language of looks, of touch. And right now, he was looking at you—eyes low, hands warmer than usual, breath slowing like he was trying not to do something reckless.
You noticed—leaned in closer, lips brushing his jaw. “You’re thinking about me,” you murmured. He stiffened for a second. But then his hand gripped your waist tighter. “Yeah,” he whispered, voice rough, hands shaky. He's a virgin, of course. He kissed you like you were something he wasn’t supposed to have. Like every second might be his last. He barely touched you in public, and carefully in private. He never even thought too much about sex, always figured no one wanted that with him.
His eyes met yours, a beauty that hid beyond his glasses. “You always look at me like I’m gonna disappear,” you said softly.
Beom-seok looked at you—really looked at you. His eyes saddened a bit. “People like you don’t usually stay with people like me.”
"Oh, baby." You flipped onto your back, pulling him with you until he hovered above you—hand placed beside your head, shakily keeping himself up. He's breath caught, surprised by the boldness—it made him feel excited. His breath was erratic as you grabbed his glasses, pulling them off his face slowly, placing them on his dresser. “Then let me show you how long I’m staying.”
His hoodie came off you first, and the look on his face when he saw you—only in your bra, thighs pressing together—was starstruck. His fingers traced your skin like you were porcelain.
“You’re so..” He shook his head, biting his lip. “I don’t deserve this.”
Your hands reached up to cup his face. "You deserve this—You deserve me. You've been the best boyfriend ever. Popular or not, You're mine and I'm yours."
You felt his hips slowly rock into yours. He maintained eye contact as he rutted himself into you, small groans leaving his lips. his eyes started to water, "I love you," he whispered. You pulled him into a kiss, breaking only for air.
"I love you," you said, your foreheads pressed together.
He was hesitant at first. Careful. Like he thought he'd break you. But when you guided his hands, when you kissed him like you knew what you were doing, Beom-seok started giving in. He felt comfortable— he trusted you. His hands got bolder. His kisses, messier. His grip on your hips, tighter.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against your collarbone, lips hot and wet. “I’ll do anything.” You smiled, breath hitching.
“I want you. All of you.”
Clothes scattered on the floor. His mouth on your chest, down your stomach, reverent and shaky. And when he finally slid inside you, eyes locked to yours, the gasp that left his throat was the rawest sound you'd ever heard from him.
“Fuck—” he whispered. “You feel like—like I don't deserve to feel this.”
“You do,” you breathed, arms around his neck. “You do.”
Beom-seok moved slowly at first, careful. But when you pulled his hair and moaned in his ear, something shifted. He fucked you like he needed to prove something. That he could love you right. That he could make you feel him. That you’d never look at anyone else the way you looked at him now—flushed, messy, adored.
His hand slid between you, fingers searching for your clit. When he finds it, your back arches hard.
“That’s it,” he said, voice shaking, hands trembling like he was scared to feel the pleasure. “Take it. Take all of me.”
You let go with his name in your throat.
And he followed soon after, lips on your shoulder, hands gripping your waist like an anchor.
Afterward, you lay tangled in sweat and kisses.
“I think I fell in love with you a little more tonight,” you whispered.
Beom-seok blinked, cheeks still pink. “Me too."
A/N: I actually really love this but lemme know what you guys think cause that's what really matters!
