#baekhyun locks | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baekhyunsbestie · 15 days ago

Text

⠀⠀ ⟢ : not so fwb !?

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀what would it take, for real, to make you mine?

i got a taste and now can’t keep off my mind… mine!

★ content: 18+/mdni. 8k+ words. baekhyun x f!reader. fwb au. themes of jealousy and possessiveness. fluff. angst. yearning. unresolved feelings. pet names. explicit language. pwp yet again. marking. biting. teasing. power play. hair pulling. dry humping. fingering + oral (fem receiving). overstimulation. raw juseyo. p in v. bulge kink. creampie. “baekhyun is an ass man,” we all say in unison.

it’s the kind of afternoon that exists in shades of gray—the world outside blurred by the steady rhythm of rain against your window, soft and ceaseless. the air is thick with warmth, the kind that comes from bodies pressed close, legs tangled lazily beneath the shared throw draped over both of you, neither of you making an effort to move. baekhyun’s arm is draped over the back of the couch, fingertips grazing your shoulder in a touch so familiar it feels like muscle memory. the fabric of the blanket is soft, worn-in from too many movie nights and lazy mornings, cocooning you both in the kind of comfort that makes the rest of the world feel distant. neither of you say much. just the occasional sigh, the quiet click of scrolling thumbs, the unspoken understanding that fills the spaces between you.

this isn't unusual. this is your normal.

baekhyun isn’t just your fwb—he’s your best friend, has been for years. before things got messy, before the lines blurred, he was the person who knew you best. and somehow, without realizing it, he became the person who knows you better than anyone else.

but here’s the thing.

somewhere along the way, you started noticing things. things that had always been there, tucked beneath his easy smiles and sharp wit, hidden so well that it took you years to piece it together.

he’s impossible to read—at least, to everyone else.

but not to you. never to you.

because you know him like the back of your hand. you know what it means when his fingers still against his phone screen, when his jaw tenses just slightly before he forces himself to relax. you know what it means when his laugh is just a little too loud, when his sarcasm bites just a little too hard.

he likes you.

likes you, likes you.

it took you an embarrassingly long time to figure it out, but once you did, everything clicked into place. every lingering glance, every absentminded touch, every time he’d find an excuse to stay just a little longer, to pull you just a little closer. it was all there, hidden in plain sight.

and now?

now, you’ve started to feel the same way back.

so when you mention your weekend plans, you don’t miss the way his body stiffens—just barely, just for a fraction of a second.

“oh?” his voice is smooth, effortless, but not quite. there’s something beneath it, something tightly wound, coiled just out of sight.

his eyes stay locked on his phone, frozen in feigned indifference, but you see it anyway—the slight hesitation in his fingers, the way his shoulders tighten before he forces them loose again. like he’s reminding himself to stay cool, to not give anything away.

“that’s… cute,” he finally says, and the sheer absurdity of it almost makes you laugh. almost.

you turn to him then, studying the way he’s trying so hard to seem unaffected. he’s good—you’ll give him that. if you hadn’t already figured him out, you might’ve believed it. but of course, you see right through him.

“cute, huh?” you echo, drawing out the words just enough, teasing, baiting—just enough to make him look up. and when he does, you meet his eyes, feigning innocent curiosity.

his lips curl into a smirk, practiced and easy, the one meant to convince you he doesn’t care. “yeah??? what did you want me to say? ‘sexy’? ‘hot’? ‘groundbreaking’?”

you roll your eyes, nudging your knee against his.

“you wanna say somethin’ else, though.”

his expression doesn’t falter—not completely—but you catch it. that flicker of something in his eyes, sharp and unguarded, gone just as fast as it appears.

he exhales through his nose, shaking his head like you’re the one being ridiculous. “nah,” he says, sinking deeper into the cushions. “just thinkin’ ‘bout how you’ll be bored by dessert.”

you hum, casual. “his name’s kai.”

the scoff slips out before he can stop it, sharp and instinctive. “what the fuck kinda name is ‘kai’?”

your lips twitch. “a normal one? why? what’s wrong with it?”

his mouth presses into a thin line. “i mean, it’s fine,” he mutters, setting his drink down with a little too much force, the can making a hollow thud against the table. “just sounds like the kinda guy who wears sunglasses indoors.”

a laugh bursts from you, quick and unfiltered. “he’s nice.”

baekhyun lets out a slow exhale, dry and humorless. “oh, i’m sure he is.” sarcasm drips from his voice, thick enough to choke on. his fingers scrolling erratically through his phone, restless, like there’s too much energy simmering beneath his skin.

“bet he’s, like, disgustingly polite. probably the type to say ‘milady’ unironically.”

if there had been any doubt before, there isn’t now.

because this? this is jealousy. raw, undiluted, simmering just beneath the surface, poisoning every syllable that leaves his mouth. it carves itself into the sharp set of his jaw, the rigid line of his shoulders, the way his lips press into something dangerously close to a pout. he’s trying—trying so damn hard—to play it cool, to act indifferent, but it’s unraveling at the seams. and you see right through him.

and god, you love it.

love the way his voice curls around every word, sharp and cutting, like he’s daring you to contradict him. love the way his fingers twitch, how he keeps refreshing his fyp like he’s actually watching, when really, he’s too busy seething. love the way he won’t look at you, won’t meet your gaze, because he knows—he knows—one wrong move, and he’ll crack open completely.

you should probably take mercy on him, say something to smooth out the sharp edges in his voice, to ease the storm brewing behind his eyes.

but you don’t.

because watching baekhyun burn for you, watching his jealousy coil around him like a vice, watching his composure slip with every second—it’s intoxicating. exhilarating. a slow, delicious ache curling deep in your stomach.

and you don’t want it to stop.

“baek, are you… jealous?”

he sucks in a sharp breath, scandalized. “me? jealous?” the laugh that escapes him is abrupt, hollow—too forced to be convincing. “pfft. no. absolutely not.”

you just stare, unmoved.

his bravado crumbles in real time. with a dramatic sigh, he slumps back in his seat, arms crossing over his chest like a moody teenager. “okay, fine.…maybe a little.” his eyes dart to yours, expectant. “but can you really blame me? you’re sitting here talking about seeing other people like i’m not literally suffering right in front of you.”

you roll your eyes, lips twitching. “oh, please. you’ve had your fair share of dates.”

“yeah, but—” he falters, his mouth opening and closing as if the right words are just out of reach, slipping through his fingers before he can catch them. his brows knit together, frustration flickering behind his eyes, the war between pride and something far more dangerous waging inside him. “that was before.”

“before what?” you ask, genuinely lost.

a sharp inhale. the kind that presses against his ribs like a vice, like he knows—knows—that once he says it, there’s no taking it back. his throat bobs, hesitation clinging to the air between you, thick and suffocating. and then—

“before i realized that i like you more than i like fucking breathing.”

oh.

the words spill out, unfiltered, raw—so devastatingly honest that they leave the space between you trembling. his eyes widen, like he’s just now grasping the weight of his own confession, body going rigid as if stillness alone might undo the damage, might rewind time and shove the words back down his throat.

but time is cruel. it doesn’t grant him mercy. and now, all that’s left is silence.

then, slowly, deliberately, your lips curl into a smirk—lazy, teasing, dangerous. it’s a spark in the air, a silent challenge, and you revel in the way his eyes darken just slightly, the way his breath catches, almost imperceptible.

you tilt your head, voice dipping into something syrupy and sweet, thick enough to drown in. “aw, baekhyun,” you croon, stretching out each syllable like you're savoring the taste of his name.

your fingers find his cheek, pinching lightly, taunting. his skin is warm beneath your touch, tinged pink—not just from your words, but from you. from the way you’re playing with him, testing the limits of his control.

“are you saying you have a crush on me?”

it’s a loaded question, wrapped in honey and laced with something sharper. something dangerous.

he groans, a deep, guttural sound of regret, dragging both hands down his face like he can physically erase the last thirty seconds from existence. “okay, can you just, like, forget i said anything? actually, you know what? i take it back. fuck this. i’m going home.”

he shifts, ready to bolt, but you’re faster—your fingers wrap around his wrist, firm yet easy, a gentle tether that keeps him from slipping away. you tug just enough to stop him in his tracks, just enough to make him hesitate.

“i never said i didn’t feel the same way back.”

his entire body locks up, like every muscle has turned to stone. breath hitching, spine straightening—he doesn’t dare move.

“…what?”

you lean in, slow, close enough to see the way his throat bobs, to catch the flicker of something wild in his eyes. you can hear the sharp inhale he takes, like he’s bracing himself, like you’re a live wire and he’s standing too close.

your smile deepens. “i just wanted to see how far i could push you.”

his brows twitch, the corners of his lips pulling down as he exhales through his nose. then, suddenly—“don’t.”

it’s quiet but firm, lacking the usual teasing lilt that laces his words. you blink, caught off guard.

“don’t what?”

“don’t mess with me,” he says, voice low, steady. his eyes, usually bright with mischief, hold something heavier now, something real. “not about this. i’m not playing.”

your fingers curl slightly where they rest on the table, heart stuttering at the way his gaze stays locked onto yours, unwavering.

“and you think i am?”

his jaw tightens, but before he can answer, you shake your head, tilting it slightly as you watch him. “baek, i never said i didn’t feel the same way back.”

his breath catches. whatever he was expecting, it wasn’t that.

for the first time in all the years you’ve known him, baekhyun is truly, unmistakably speechless. you’ve done the impossible—you’ve actually managed to shut byun baekhyun up.

his lips part slightly, but no sound follows, no quick-witted remark, no teasing comeback. just silence.

his expression flickers—disbelief, hesitation, something dangerously close to vulnerability. it’s like his brain is still catching up, still buffering, still piecing together the reality that you actually said it.

out loud. undeniable. irreversible.

and judging by the way his breath hitches, the way his fingers tighten against his sides, you’re not sure if he even knows what to do with that.

so, naturally, you push a little further.

leaning in again, voice dropping to something soft, just for him— “what, cat got your tongue?”

his head tilts, gaze narrowing just slightly, and just like that, some of the tension snaps. “you are such a fuckin’ menace.”

“takes one to know one.”

he huffs a laugh, but the tightness in his shoulders doesn’t fully disappear. instead, he leans in too, the space between you suddenly insignificant. “say it again.”

“hmm?”

“what you just said.”

your eyes glint. “what, that you’re a menace?”

his fingers twitch like he’s resisting the urge to strangle you—or kiss you. “you know what i mean.”

you hum, considering. then, with a smirk—“make me.”

it’s the last straw. and before you can register it, his hand is curling around your wrist, pulling you in close enough that you have no choice but to finally—finally—meet him in the middle.

his eyes flicker between yours, searching, dark with something unreadable. the air between you shifts, growing thick, charged, humming with the weight of something unspoken.

“make you, huh?” his voice is quieter now, lower, rough around the edges. “you really wanna test me right now?”

you swallow, refusing to back down, even as his thumb brushes the inside of your wrist, pressing into your pulse like he can feel it racing. your lips twitch. “always.”

a muscle jumps in his jaw. for a second, he says nothing—just watches you, just breathes. the tension in his grip wavers, like he’s hesitating, like he’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

then, just as quickly as he pulled you in, he lets go—only to reach for you again, threading his fingers through your hair, his grip tightening just enough to make your breath stutter.

“so you’re serious?” he murmurs, voice slow, deliberate, the weight of his palm against your scalp making heat coil low in your stomach.

you blink. “what?”

“earlier.” his fingers curl tighter, and the tension in his grip sends a shiver down your spine, makes the heat between your legs burn hotter. your breath comes quicker, chest rising and falling in shallow pulls. he notices. of course he notices. “you weren’t just pushing my buttons?”

your throat bobs. your instinct is to tease, to throw something cocky back in his face, but the look he’s giving you makes it impossible.

“i was pushing your buttons,” you admit, voice quieter now, softer. “but not about that.”

something shifts in his expression, something subtle but enough to make your stomach flip. his fingers tighten again, just slightly, the tension making your thighs press together.

“say. it. again.”

your breath catches. the pressure at your scalp sends another ripple of heat down your spine, and you hate the way it makes you squirm. hate the way he notices.

“what?”

his lips twitch, eyes flicking down to your mouth before dragging back up. his fingers tug—just a little, just enough to make you gasp.

“you know what.”

the words send a shockwave through you, pooling low in your stomach, making you ache. your breath comes faster, chest rising and falling in shallow pulls, and the way his grip tightens—just enough to toe the line between control and indulgence—only makes it worse.

“i feel the same way, baek.”

his breath hitches. his grip doesn’t loosen, doesn’t falter. if anything, his fingers slide lower, curling at the nape of your neck, his thumb brushing slow, teasing circles against your skin.

“good.”

his lips crash against yours, warm and unrelenting, and it feels like every unsaid thing, every tease, every lingering glance over the years has been leading to this. he kisses you like he’s making up for lost time, like he’s thought about this one too many times to take it slow now.

because he has.

he’s thought about this for years—long before the late night hookups, before the blurred lines, before he even had the right to touch you the way he’s been touching you for months. back when you were just his best friend, when he had to bite his tongue every time you laughed at his stupid jokes, had to swallow down the jealousy whenever you flirted with someone else.

he thought having you like that—just physically, just for fun—would be enough. that if he could have a taste of you, he could pretend he didn’t want more.

he was wrong.

because nothing about you was ever enough. not when you were sprawled out in his sheets, not when you were gasping his name in the dark, not when you were back to teasing him like none of it meant anything in the morning. every time you walked away, his chest ached with something ugly, something possessive.

and now, finally, finally, he doesn’t have to hold back.

his fingers tighten in your hair, keeping you close, tilting your head just enough to deepen the kiss, to take more. your breath comes in sharp, uneven pulls, your hands gripping at his shirt, desperate for something to keep you tethered. he makes a low sound against your mouth, something between a sigh and a groan, and the heat in your stomach coils tighter, burning through you like a live wire.

without breaking the kiss, he moves—hands slipping to your waist, gripping tight as he lifts you effortlessly onto his lap. your knees press into the couch on either side of him, his back against the cushions, his hands firm against your hips. the moment you settle, you feel it—hard and thick beneath you, pressing right against your core.

the realization sends a fresh wave of heat through you, your breath hitching. the pressure, the warmth, the way he fits perfectly beneath you—it’s too much, not enough. instinct takes over before you can think better of it, your hips shifting, rolling against him, seeking friction.

his reaction is instant. he groans into your mouth, a deep, guttural sound that makes your thighs tremble. his hands tighten on your waist, guiding you down, pressing you harder against him. the friction sends sparks up your spine, makes you wetter and wetter with every slow, deliberate grind.

“fuck,” he breathes against your lips, his forehead resting against yours for just a second before he captures your mouth again, teeth scraping against your lower lip. his grip on your waist is bruising now, guiding your movements, making you move just the way he wants.

his hands trail back up, fingers tangling in your hair again, and before you can react, he tugs—just enough to make your head tilt back, exposing your throat to him.

“you’re gonna be the death of me, i swear,” he groans, voice rough with need, vibrating against your skin.

then his lips are on your neck, warm and wet, sucking hard enough to leave his mark. he nips at your skin, soothing each bite with his tongue, branding you as his. his. his.

but that’s the thing, isn’t it?

you’ve never been his.

not really.

not in the way he wanted you.

not in the way he needed you.

his hands grip tighter, frustration bleeding into his touch, a quiet kind of desperation behind every press of his lips against your skin. he spent months pretending this didn’t mean anything to you, that you weren’t the only person he’s ever truly wanted.

but now, you’ve said it.

“i feel the same way.”

and for the first time, he lets himself believe it.

“fuck, you feel so good,” he mutters against your skin, his voice rough, barely more than a growl. his hands slide lower, fingers splaying wide over your ass before gripping tight, pressing you down against him again. the heat between you is unbearable, the friction making you dizzy, needy. “but you keep teasing me like this, and i swear—” his breath is hot against your throat, “—i'll fuckin' ruin you.”

the warning sends a sharp jolt of heat straight to your core, your thighs clenching involuntarily. you smirk, rolling your hips against him again, pushing, testing. “is that a threat or a promise, baek?”

his grip tightens instantly, his fingers digging into your flesh as his teeth graze your pulse, tongue flicking over the spot right before he bites down—just enough to make you gasp. “ya wanna find out?”

you meet his gaze, pupils blown wide, your lips curling into something slow, deliberate, knowing. “yeah,” you breathe, heat lacing every syllable, “i think i do.”

he doesn’t wait for anything else.

in one swift motion, he lifts you off his lap like you weigh nothing, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you, his mouth never leaving yours. the world spins, but he’s the only thing you can focus on—the strength of his arms around you, the press of his chest against yours, the way his lips move with a hunger that makes your head light.

before you can even process it, you’re being laid down on your bed, the mattress dipping beneath you. but you don’t let him go far—your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, yanking him down with you, refusing to let there be even an inch of space between you. his lips crash against yours, his body slotting against yours like it was meant to be there.

you pull him down further, guiding him to sit back against the headboard, and without hesitation, you climb into his lap again, knees bracketing his hips. he doesn’t waste a second—his hands roam, exploring, claiming, sliding up your spine, gripping your waist, holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

his mouth is on yours again, but this time, it’s different.

it’s deeper.

more desperate.

more real.

before, when you were just messing around as friends with benefits, yeah, the passion was there—but this is something else entirely. it’s more. more romantic. more sensual. more intimate.

and god, you’re as fucking hungry for him as he is for you.

he bucks his hips into you again, the hardness of his cock straining against his pants, pressing right against the ache between your thighs. the friction alone has you gasping into his mouth, grinding down to chase more of it, more of him.

he groans at the feeling, the sound vibrating against your lips, sending shivers down your spine. but it’s your whimper that’s his undoing.

his hands tighten on your hips, fingers flexing, gripping, guiding as he presses you down harder, rolling your hips against him in slow, delicious circles. his breath shudders, his forehead dropping against yours, and for a moment, all you can hear is the ragged sound of his breathing, the way it mixes with yours, the way it makes your stomach tighten.

“you’re gonna kill me,” he breathes, his voice wrecked, strained, like he’s barely holding himself together. his lips ghost over yours again, teasing, taunting, before dipping to your neck, where he bites down hard enough to make you gasp.

“then let me,” you whisper, grinding against him again, feeling how he twitches beneath you, how he’s already so close to snapping.

and when he groans your name, when his fingers dig into your skin like he can’t bear the thought of letting you go—

you know neither of you will be stopping anytime soon.

in one swift motion, he flips you onto your back, his weight pressing you into the mattress as his lips move—trailing down your neck, grazing over your collarbone, setting your skin ablaze with every touch. his fingers slip beneath your shirt, pushing it up, his lips following, mapping out every inch of newly exposed skin, worshiping.

he kneels between your legs, eyes locked on yours, dark and hungry. for a moment, he just stares, like he’s committing you to memory, like nothing else has ever mattered.

“lemme taste you,” he breathes, voice thick with want, hands already tugging at the waistband of your shorts.

you nod—barely a whisper of a movement—before he’s peeling them away, along with your underwear, leaving you bare beneath him.

his groan is low, reverent, eyes flicking up to meet yours before he dips down, lips pressing soft, teasing kisses to the inside of your thighs, taking his time, savoring.

“so fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, fingers spreading you open as he licks his lips, gaze dark and intent. “and all mine.”

you bite your lip as he settles between your thighs, his eyes dark, pupils blown wide with hunger. “baek—”

his breath ghosts over your core, a tease, a promise—before his mouth is on you, tongue flicking, lips wrapping around the most sensitive part of you like he’s been starving for this, for you.

your back arches, a broken moan slipping free as he pulls you closer, burying himself between your legs, like he never wants to come up for air.

the moan that escapes you is unfiltered, raw, and when he groans against you in response, the vibration of it sends a shudder down your spine, splintering whatever self control you had left.

baekhyun is relentless. his fingers press into your thighs, grip firm, commanding—possessive in a way that leaves no room for doubt. he holds you exactly where he wants you, exactly where he needs you, like letting go isn’t an option. and maybe for him, it isn’t.

he devours you like a man with something to prove, with a hunger so raw, so consuming, it borders on desperate. every flick of his tongue, every teasing stroke is deliberate, each movement designed to unravel you, to make sure you never—ever—think about anyone else again.

and judging by the way your head tilts back, lips parting on a shattered gasp, your breath stuttering into ragged, uneven moans, he’s succeeding. fucking spectacularly.

pleasure coils hot and tight in your core, a live wire sparking under his touch. his tongue moves with purpose—tasting, teasing, demanding. every time you think you’ve caught your breath, he pulls you deeper, dragging you under with a well-placed flick, a slow, devastating suck.

he groans against you, the sound deep and wrecked, vibrating through every inch of your body like an electric current. your fingers thread into his hair, tugging, needing something to ground yourself as the tension inside you stretches impossibly tight.

“that’s it,” he rasps, voice thick with satisfaction, his grip tightening as he holds you firm, making sure you take everything he gives. his breath is hot against your skin, a low hum vibrating through you before he murmurs, voice wrecked and desperate, “make a mess, baby. lemme taste all of you.”

and you do.

the tension snaps like a rubber band pulled too tight, breaking apart all at once, pleasure crashing over you in waves so intense they steal the air from your lungs. your body locks up, back arching, hands twisting in his hair as your release spills from you in breathless, whimpering cries.

but baekhyun doesn’t stop—not yet. he works you through it, tongue lapping up every last tremor, hands steadying you as your legs tremble, as your body melts under the force of your own pleasure.

only when you’re boneless, breathless, completely spent, does he finally ease up. he presses one last, lingering kiss against your skin before pulling back just enough to look at you—lips slick, pupils blown wide, his breath coming just as uneven as yours.

his expression is pure, unabashed pride. pure, unfiltered satisfaction.

like he just ruined you.

like he’d do it again.

and he will.

before you can even catch your breath, before the tremors in your body fully subside, baekhyun’s grip tightens. his fingers, still warm from where they had been sinking into your thighs, drag up the length of your body, slow, deliberate, as if savoring the way you tremble beneath his touch.

“you look so pretty like this,” he murmurs, voice thick, almost reverent. his thumb traces the inside of your thigh, featherlight, a teasing contrast to the way his other hand cups the curve of your hip, grounding you. “all wrecked and sweet for me. but you’re not done yet, are you?”

your body jerks as his fingers ghost over your over sensitive core, a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly at the implication. you should be spent, should be boneless and useless in his hands—but then he’s slipping two fingers inside you with ease, still soaked, still desperate for more.

you choke on a gasp, legs threatening to snap shut, but he’s faster—he spreads you open, his free hand gripping your thigh to keep you still. his smirk is dark, smug, knowing.

“there we go,” he coaxes, curling his fingers just right, pressing into that spot that makes your vision blur. “you can take it. let me have one more.”

it’s not a request.

his pace is unrelenting, fingers moving in perfect rhythm, dragging you back to the edge as if your body was made for him to pull apart. your hands grasp at his shoulders, searching for something to hold onto, something to ground yourself against the pleasure that builds too fast, too strong.

“baek—” his name spills from your lips, barely a sound, just a breathy, broken plea.

he shushes you gently, leaning in, mouth brushing against your ear as he whispers, “i wanna feel ya fall apart again, baby. be good for me, yeah?”

his thumb finds your clit, circles it with devastating precision, and that’s it—that’s all it takes for you to unravel completely.

the pleasure crashes over you in a tidal wave, stronger than before, knocking the air from your lungs as your body clenches around his fingers. a choked cry leaves your lips, hands clutching onto him as he works you through it, not stopping until every last tremor fades, until you’re shaking, whimpering, utterly spent in his hold.

only then does he slow, pressing lazy, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down your neck, grounding you in the aftermath of it all.

“that’s my girl,” he murmurs, lips curling into a satisfied smirk. “so good for me.”

your breathing is still uneven, body humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, but there’s something else now—something new simmering beneath your skin. the heat pooling low in your stomach isn’t just from what baekhyun’s done to you. it’s from the way he’s looking at you now, eyes dark and hooded, his lips parted as he watches you slowly come down from your high.

but then you see it.

the way his length strains against his boxers, thick and aching, the outline so prominent it makes your breath hitch. the fabric does little to hide just how hard he is, every inch pressing tight, desperate for relief. but it’s the darkened spot of precum seeping through, staining the soft material, that sends a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.

your mouth waters.

the sight alone is enough to send a shiver down your spine, to make your thighs clench in anticipation. a deep, insatiable hunger curls low in your stomach, settling there like fire, like need. your breath stutters, lips parting slightly as your gaze locks onto the outline straining against his pants. every slight twitch, every flex beneath the fabric makes your pulse pound, makes heat lick at the edges of your self-control.

you shift, fingers aching to touch, to feel. your hands slip down his stomach, tracing over firm muscle, the warmth of his skin radiating through the thin barrier of his shirt. your fingers ghost along the waistband of his boxers, teasing the edge, ready to slip lower, to give in to the craving that’s been building between you all night.

but before you can go any further, his hand snaps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“baby,” he breathes, voice hoarse, wrecked, like he’s barely holding on, “don’t.”

you glance up at him through your lashes, your gaze flickering between the sharp cut of his jaw and the thick bulge straining against his boxers. the sight of it, of him, makes something hot and needy coil in your stomach. you let your tongue flick out, wetting your lips, slow and intentional.

his reaction is immediate.

his grip on your waist tightens, fingers pressing into your skin like he’s holding onto the last threads of his restraint. his jaw clenches, his entire body going rigid, muscles tensed like he’s barely keeping himself in check.

“but, baek,” you murmur, letting the tease slip into your tone, leaning in until your lips brush against the sharp curve of his jaw. “lemme take care of you.”

his breath stutters, a deep groan slipping past his lips as his head tips back, exposing the smooth column of his throat for just a moment—before he exhales a shaky breath, forcing himself to pull away.

“fuck.” his voice is wrecked, strained, laced with something almost painful. his fingers push through his hair, frustration evident in every movement, his eyes squeezing shut like he’s at war with himself. “you have no actual fucking idea how much i want you to suck me off right now, sweetheart.”

the confession alone sends a shiver down your spine, heat licking at your insides, your thighs pressing together involuntarily.

he sees it. of course he sees it.

baekhyun curses low under his breath, his grip flexing against your skin, his restraint visibly unraveling. his nostrils flare as he exhales hard, shaking his head like he can’t believe himself.

“you don’t get it,” he huffs, running a hand down his face, voice thick with something almost desperate. “i can’t believe i’m stopping you right now, but—”

his eyes snap back to yours, dark and serious, the teasing edge gone, replaced with something deeper, something raw. his fingers reach out, tilting your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze head on.

“i just confessed to you.” his voice drops lower, thick with emotion, the weight of his words pressing into your chest. “i’ve been dreaming about this day for so fucking long. there were times i thought it’d never come.”

his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, slow, reverent, as if memorizing the shape of it.

“but it did.” his lips part, his breath coming faster, his thumb pressing down just a little harder. “you’re here, and i’m here, and—fuck, baby—i need to feel you.”

he swallows hard, his jaw working as he exhales, his eyes dropping to your lips, then lower, drinking you in.

“need to cum by fucking you.”

the words send fire racing through your veins, your stomach flipping, thighs pressing together again, but this time, he doesn’t just see it—he reacts.

his hands slide down, gripping your hips tight, and in one swift motion, he flips you onto your back, caging you beneath him. his mouth crashes against yours, all restraint gone, and you barely have a second to breathe before his hands are roaming, his hips pressing down, his body slotting against yours like he was always meant to be there.

you let his words settle between you, thick with want and something deeper, something that makes your chest tighten. but then you shift, just enough to feel the hard press of him against you, and a slow, knowing smile tugs at your lips.

“eager, aren’t we?” you tease, fingers tracing the sharp cut of his jaw, tilting his face toward yours.

he exhales sharply, his breath coming in heavy, uneven pulls, his lips still swollen, still slick from everything he’s already done to you. his hands tighten on your waist, his restraint hanging by a thread.

“always when it comes to you.”

his voice is rough, reverent, edged with something raw, something vulnerable. his eyes burn into yours, dark and hungry, like he still can’t believe you’re really here beneath him, giving yourself to him completely—not just physically, but in the way he’s craved for so long.

because he’s had you before. so many times. against walls, in the backseat of his car, on his couch at ungodly hours when neither of you could pretend to be just friends. but this? this is different.

this is the first time he’s having you knowing that you’re his.

his cock is heavy against your inner thigh, thick and flushed, the heat of him making your stomach tighten. you shift beneath him, pressing your hips up, desperate for him to close the aching space between you.

a groan rips through his chest as he ruts against your folds, the sound so guttural it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your toes curl. and then—he’s inside you.

the stretch is deep, unbearable in the most intoxicating way, his hips flush against yours like he can’t get close enough, like he won’t be satisfied until he’s completely buried in you. his breath stutters, uneven, forehead pressing against yours as his arms cage you in, fingers digging into the cushions like he’s holding on for dear life.

“so fuckin’ tight,” he groans, his grip on your waist tightening like he’s trying to keep himself from slamming all the way in too fast. “feels different. fuck—feels better.”

and it does. it’s not just the pleasure, not just the way he fits so perfectly inside you—it’s the weight of everything that’s led up to this moment. it’s the way he needs you, the way he wants you—not just as his best friend, not just as his late-night escape, but as his.

he pulls out just enough before thrusting back in, slow and deep, stretching you open in a way that feels deliberate—like he’s making sure you feel every inch of him, every slow, dragging movement.

the pleasure is sharp, overwhelming, leaving you breathless. your back arches, your nails dragging down his back as a moan spills from your lips.

his hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he moves faster, his thrusts growing rougher, more desperate. the room fills with the sound of skin against skin, the heavy breaths, the low, guttural moans spilling from his lips.

he moves—no, he takes. thrusting into you with a kind of desperation that steals the air from your lungs, makes your head spin, like he’s been starving for this, starving for you. there’s nothing controlled about it, nothing measured. it’s raw, reckless, a need too overwhelming to contain.

his moans spill into your ear, unfiltered and unrestrained, broken whimpers between kisses that miss their mark—his mouth barely finding yours, too caught up in the feeling, too lost in you. his grip on your hips is bruising, possessive, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go, like he you’re drowning in him, in his touch, in the way he’s fucking you like he’s never going to get the chance again.

his mouth finds yours again, messy, consuming, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip before he groans into your mouth, “you’re mine, ya hear me?”

his words make heat lick up your spine, make your walls clench around him, and he chokes out a curse, his pace stuttering for just a second before he recovers, fucking you harder.

“say it,” he demands, voice thick with need, his hands tightening on you. “say you’re mine.”

you’re barely coherent, pleasure clouding every thought, but you manage to gasp out, “i’m yours, baek—i’m yours. yours, yours, yours!”

his thrusts grow more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening, the sound of skin meeting skin mixing with the heavy, ragged breaths filling the space between you. he’s so deep, so warm, stretching you just right, and you can feel the tension building in every inch of his body—he’s close. so close.

his forehead presses against yours, his breath coming in uneven pulls, voice wrecked as he rasps, “holy fuck—hah—where do you want me, princess?”

his words send a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you can’t think, can’t breathe—because before now, before this night, before you and him became something more, he never asked.

not once.

when you were just friends with benefits, he always pulled out. always. because it was never supposed to mean anything. it was never supposed to be deeper than the heat of the moment.

but now, with his body pressed against yours, his hands gripping your waist like he’s terrified of letting go, his voice rough with something raw, something real—it’s different.

your eyes flicker open, meeting his, dark and desperate, waiting for your answer.

slowly, deliberately, your hand slips between your bodies, trailing down until your fingertips brush over your lower belly.

you press lightly against the soft skin there, your meaning unmistakable.

his breath catches.

his hips stutter.

his grip tightens on you like a vice, his fingers digging into your flesh as a deep, guttural groan rips from his throat. “fuck—you serious?”

your lips curl into a slow, teasing smile, your nails scraping gently along the back of his neck. “want you to cum inside me, baek.”

his jaw clenches, a curse slipping from his lips, his entire body tensing like he’s barely holding on by a thread. “baby, you can’t just—nngghhh—” his voice is wrecked, unraveling, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as he takes a shuddering breath. “do ya even know what you’re askin’ me?”

you let out a soft hum, tilting your hips up, making him sink even deeper. “mmmh—i do.”

he lifts his head just enough to meet your gaze again, and whatever he sees there—trust, want, love—completely wrecks him.

his hands grab at you, his hips snapping forward as his control finally snaps, fucking into you rougher, deeper, chasing the high threatening to consume him. “gonna fill ya up, baby,” he groans, voice breaking. “ya want me to cum right here, yeah?” his palm covers your lower belly, pressing just enough to make your walls flutter around him. “ya want me to put it all inside you?”

your head tips back, pleasure crashing over you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you cry out, “yes—yes, baek, please!”

his breath shudders, his body locking up as his hips jerk forward one last time, burying himself as deep as he can go. “fuck—take it, baby—” his groan is broken, reverent, his body trembling as warmth floods into you, his fingers gripping you like he never wants to let go.

he stays inside you, still pulsing, still gasping, his body molded to yours like he never wants to leave. his breath is warm against your skin, his lips pressing slow, lingering kisses to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth—like he’s trying to tether himself to reality, to this moment, to you.

“mine,” he whispers, his voice still shaking, thick with something unspoken, something deeper than just possession. his hand slides down between your bodies, smoothing over your stomach, fingers splaying wide across your skin—right over where his release is buried deep inside you. his palm lingers there, like he wants to brand the moment into existence. “all mine.”

his weight presses into you, grounding you, his heartbeat hammering against your chest in a rhythm that matches your own. but he doesn’t move to pull away. he just stays there, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mixing with yours, his fingers stroking slow, lazy circles into your skin—like he’s memorizing every inch of you all over again.

like he’s making sure this isn’t a dream.

silence stretches between you, thick and warm, the air still heavy with the aftermath of everything that just happened. you can feel the way his body trembles slightly, the way his breathing is still uneven, how every muscle in him is completely spent—but he still refuses to let go.

then, after a long moment, he shifts just enough to lift his head, blinking down at you with heavy lidded eyes, utterly dazed, drenched in sweat, looking completely ruined.

his lips part, breath still ragged, and then—

“sooooo,” he exhales, voice hoarse, broken, still struggling to catch up. “does this mean we’re dating now?”

for a second, you just stare at him, lips twitching, the sheer absurdity of the question catching you completely off guard.

then, before you can stop it, laughter bubbles up, light and breathless, shaking through your chest as you smack his shoulder. “you just told me you love me, and now you’re asking?”

he grins—lazy, lopsided, fucking smug—his fingers tightening around your waist as he presses another kiss to your lips, this one softer, sweeter, but still just as him.

“wanted to make sure,” he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze again, something soft flickering behind his eyes. “‘cause ’m not lettin’ ya take it back.”

and with the way he looks at you—like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment, like he’d relive every second of his past just to end up right here—you know you never would.

“of course we're dating, dummy,” you huff, rolling your eyes, breath still uneven as your fingers trace lazy circles along his shoulder. “although asking me like this isn’t really romantic, considering your dick is still inside me.”

baekhyun grins, completely unbothered, his hands squeezing your waist, keeping you right where you are. “what if i asked you to marry me? would that make it more romantic?”

you let out a breathy laugh, smacking his chest. “shut up.”

with that, you giggle, pushing him off of you, and he groans dramatically, his hands slipping from your body as you roll out from under him. he hisses when his cock finally slides out, still sensitive, still twitching from how wrecked he is.

“jesus—” he exhales, flopping onto his back, eyes trailing after you as you slip off the bed, making your way toward the bathroom.

he barely hears the water running, too distracted by the way your ass moves as you walk away, your hips swaying, still flushed from where he’d been gripping you moments ago. his stomach tightens, his tongue swiping over his lips as he watches, completely transfixed.

“is this the right time to say how many kids i want, too?”

you snort, shaking your head, but before you can say anything, you hear the bed creak behind you, followed by the sound of footsteps padding across the floor.

you don’t even have to turn around to know he’s following you.

the second you step into the shower, warm water cascading over your skin, his arms snake around your waist from behind, his chest pressing against your back, skin to skin, heat to heat.

you inhale sharply when you feel it—his cock, already rock hard again, pressing against the curve of your ass.

“baekhyun,” you sigh, exasperated but undeniably amused, your hands bracing against the cool tile as steam curls around you.

“hmm?” he hums, voice smooth, unbothered, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. his breath is warm against your damp skin, his fingers splaying wide over your stomach as he pulls you flush against him. “you just looked too good walkin’ away.”

his voice dips, thick with something darker, something indulgent. “and you know how obsessed i am with this ass.”

as if to prove his point, his hands slide lower, palms broad and firm as they knead into the soft flesh of your ass, squeezing, molding, claiming. his grip is possessive, fingers sinking in like he wants to feel every inch of you beneath his touch.

then, without warning—SMACK!

a sharp gasp leaves your lips as the sound echoes through the steam-filled bathroom, the sting blooming across your skin in delicious contrast to the warmth of the water. heat surges through you, pooling deep in your stomach, and before you can even process the sensation, you feel it—

his cock twitching against your ass.

baekhyun groans, low and deep, his fingers tracing over the spot he just marked, admiring the way a perfect red handprint begins to bloom against your skin. his breath stutters, his chest rising and falling against your back as he drags his nails lightly over the sensitive flesh, soothing the sting before gripping it again.

his lips ghost over your shoulder, slow and sensual, dragging warmth across your damp skin. each kiss is open mouthed, wet, indulgent—like he’s savoring the taste of you, like he’s branding you beneath the steam.

then, his teeth graze—just barely, just enough to make your breath hitch, to make your body tense, to send a pulse of heat straight to your core. the sting is fleeting, soothed by the slow drag of his tongue, but it’s enough.

enough to leave a mark.

enough to unravel you.

his hands move lower, fingertips teasing at the sensitive space between your thighs, parting you with ease, and his voice drops, thick and teasing—

“besides, baby—” his fingers press in, slow but insistent, “—you didn’t really think i was done with you, did you?”

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ i wrote all 8k+ words in like five hrs yesterday like i'm so srs when i say mommy lisa’s ovulation demon did not fuck around w this one 😭😭😭😭 hope you liked it my besties!!! mwah lmk what u think hehe i love u guys <3333

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 .

#baekhyun smut #baekhyun fic #baekhyun one shot #baekhyun x reader #exo smut #exo fic #exo one shot #exo x reader #x reader #kpop smut #kpop fic #kpop one shot #lisawrites

104 notes · View notes

arthenaa · 1 year ago

Text

UN Village — roommate!mizu x f!reader

synopsis: a glimpse into the life after being 'just' roommates.

content: 18+, nsfw, gay ass sex, gay ass losers, gay gay gay, short domestic glimpses of your life with mizu as your gf slash roommate slash best friend and your cat named nora. can be read as a one shot, you and mizu call each other bon/bonnie as an endearment, she/her pronouns for both reader and mizu.

author's note: this is a compilation of the requests I received from my inbox! namely the ones requesting hcs plus nsfw parts. (to that one anon with a specific request for the nsfw part, know that ill be going along with some of your ideas! will be tweaking it a bit <3) i also have a hc that mizu is well off ... both bc of her father's hard work and that she also has a stable job despite still being in university. anys, enjoy!

parts: blurred lines, mizu as your roommate

Life as a couple wasn't all that different—a realization you've reached after observing your first few months with Mizu together. Aside from the access to overly exaggerated kisses and must-have energy-charging hugs, things were the same as they were before.

Grocery shopping on Saturdays is still a rotational thing, you cook, she cleans—sometimes when both of you feel a little too lazy to cook dinner, take-outs from that diner near 2nd Street are a must. She walks you to class, drives you to wherever you want, and you buy her her favorite tea as a reward for working hard.

If anything, your domestic rituals have been quite rewarding whenever you've come to the realization that yes, Mizu is yours and that you don't have to deal with all the angsty shit that came with having that realization. Everything was a breeze.

Speaking of working hard, Mizu had been quite busy as of late. Always unintentionally locking herself up in her room or getting home late some days. You knew her schedule well enough that this wasn't a result of her academics but of her work. You never knew how Mizu could balance her work and academic life so well but you suppose that's part of what makes her so ... Mizu.

You could see the exhaustion from the way she touches her temple more often or the bouncing of her knee whenever you two plan on working on requirements at the library (the librarian had been lenient with her judgment after the two of you gave her 'sorry' cookies the other day, it was quite funny). You knew that Mizu was getting overwhelmed with whatever she was dealing with at work.

So, as the loving girlfriend that you are, you wanted to give her a time to rest and motivation to overcome whatever block that's hindering her creativity and process in completing her work.

You make careful footsteps towards her room—shushing Nora who mews softly at your feet. You balance the tray to one arm as the other gently reaches to twist the doorknob. The hinges on the wooden door squeak as you push it open, revealing your girlfriend hunched over her desktop. Her room is as simple as it can be, white walls adorned with a few of her framed pictures—some were posters of her favorite bands and films while the others were collages of her favorite moments, captured by a camera she had bought on her first paycheck. You see the infamous cactus you gifted her on her birthday perched on top of her shelves alongside a few books and comics that she collected over the years. The minimalistic feel of her room does bring a calming effect whenever you enter her space (which is why more often than not, sleepovers are in her room than yours). Your attempts to not disturb her work continue due to the noise-canceling headphones pulled over her head. You see Mizu pinch the bridge of her nose, her glasses nudged up before she adjusts them back on her face. Your eyes soften at the view.

Gently placing the tray on her dresser, you make careful steps towards her hunched figure before moving to wrap your arms around her shoulders. She tenses for a moment but at the whiff of your familiar scent, she immediately melts in your touch. You pull away slightly as she pulls her headphones off, placing it on the table before going back to your previous position.

"Hey," You softly murmur, cheek pressed to her temple. She hums at your voice, eyes still trained on her tablet perched on a stand. "How are you doing?"

Mizu twirls her digital pen in her hand—the stiff length of her pen gliding smoothly along her fingers. She nudges your head to acknowledge your presence. "Fine," She says.

You knew Mizu tends to downplay her feelings a lot. It was a common problem you both encountered throughout both your friendship and relationship. She tends to be more service-giving and prioritizes your welfare over her own. While you truly appreciate her attentiveness to your well-being, it does bring concern whenever she says things that don't really resonate with how she looks and feels. You've since learned to grow atoned to her body language—knowing at a glance at her mannerisms and communicating more definitely helps a lot in the long run.

You place a kiss on her temple, hugging her tight as she focuses back on her task. You decide not to push too much on it. "Did you get assigned new work?"

Mizu hums, nodding slightly as she makes quick notes on her tablet. "Yeah. They needed a lot of manpower on this one."

Your arms move back to grab her shoulders, thumbs making circular motions on the area available to you. Mizu sighs at the feeling. "So it's a big project, huh?"

Mizu nods once more before pausing. There's a slight reprieve as you continue to ease the tense muscles on her shoulders. She then turns slightly, eyes looking up at you both in curiosity and gratefulness. "What's up with you?"

You smile down at her, leaning down to place a soft kiss on her lips before turning towards the tray of her favorite food on her dresser. "Got you some food and your favorite tea."

Mizu lightens up at your words, turning in her office chair and pulling you between her legs. She buries her face on your stomach, hands on your hips. "Thank you, Bonnie."

Her words pull a flush from your cheeks—still getting butterflies from her attention. You gently pat the top of her head, making sure not to stress the already messy bun haphazardly tied on a whim. A few strands of her hair escape the hairdo with each gentle slide of your palm on her head. You let out a grumble, hands making their way to pull the tie off her hair. Mizu chuckles at your movements.

"Was I too quiet?" Mizu asks as she feels your hands run through her hair��gathering all the strands with careful swoops. You hum at her response.

"Not really," You respond as you twist her hair in its usual style before beginning to tie it off with her hair tie. "Why?"

Mizu blinks softly, enjoying your ministrations on her head. She yawns. "I don't know. Just worried that I might've been ignoring you or something."

You pause at the last twist of her tie, gently pulling away to take a look at her face. The exhaustion is evident—bags under her eyes, eyes blinking slow, and the slouch on her posture. However, despite it all, her eyes and face remain softened and loving at the sight of you. A soft smile pulls from your lips.

"You haven't," Your hands gently cup her face as you angled it up towards you. "You don't have to worry about a thing, Mizu. Whatever you need, I'll be right here."

She gazes into your eyes, processing your heartfelt words before a genuine smile bursts from her lips. Your heart thunders at its brightness and you can't help but return its intensity.

"I love you." She murmurs, eyes filled with gratitude. You revel in its warmth.

"I love you too."

"Mizu?" You call out to the empty living room, not noticing the familiar raven-haired girl typically lounging in the living space around this time. You knew because Mizu often tends to do her leisure time in the living room where it has an open space and just an overall change of pace in the morning. You had gone out to do the groceries as Mizu did hers last week. You half expected her to be at the same spot when you returned but didn't overthink it. She was probably back at her room or fixing up that clog in the bathroom. You placed your shoes on the side before walking towards the kitchen to drop the grocery bags.

You begin to place the items in their respective places before realizing another equation to the problem. Nora was also nowhere to be found. Your heart speeds up,

"Nora? Mizu?" You call out, placing the bag of fruits down to find you two missing culprits. "Where are you?"

While Mizu was a generally quiet person and Nora being stealthy like a damn mosquito, they often wandered to your presence and so you expected that your girlfriend would call back and Nora's feet would begin to pitter patter its way towards you. There were only a few other options that you could consider where those two disappeared to. First, Mizu must have taken her out for a walk. Nora tends to be restless in the morning and prefers going out when the sun is high and the temperature is just right. Second, probably in Mizu's bedroom—those two tend to nap when you're not in sight, probably because most of the time their energy is just you with 5% of their actual energy. You decide to go with the second option for now.

You make careful steps towards Mizu's room, knocking on the wooden surface before opening the door. The lights are off and the room's spotless. Mizu must be out. You turn towards your room just in case. You're greeted with the bed you made this morning. You scratch your head in thought, confused as to where those two might have gone.

Just as you begin to worry, the sound of the door's security system unlocking through the keypad resounds through the hallway. You make your way towards the living space to see Mizu with an armful of carboard boxes and Nora trailing behind her. They both pause at the sight of you.

"Oh," Mizu blinks at you as if she had been caught sticking her hand somewhere she shouldn't have. You blink back in response. "You're home."

Nora meows in response to your rather unexpected predicament. Your eyes dart from Mizu, to Nora, to the boxes in Mizu's arms.

"... What's that?" You watch as Mizu gently places the items down with a sigh before turning towards you with a sheepish smile.

"I got Nora a tower," She responds hesitantly, gauging your reaction to her response. There's a few moments of silence as you process the information.

You remain speechless. If anything, you were the one who mostly spoils Nora. Having too much similarities to your grumpy looking girlfriend, you couldn't help but coddle the kitty. Mizu on the other hand tends to bond with cat through silent stares or squinting at each other as if they have their own form of communication. It's safe to say that you're quite amused at the fact that Mizu was the one who brought her

A laugh escapes your lips at the thought, watching as Mizu furrows her eyebrows in confusion while Nora simply meows beside her.

"How did you even—" You cover your mouth in an attempt to calm yourself down from the impending laughter. "When did you even get this?"

Mizu rolls her eyes. "I got it last week. When you had class—" She pauses at the sound of your laughter. "Why is this so funny to you?"

You grin at her grumpy attitude. "I just didn't expect that you'll be the one getting her the tower. I thought you settled for the treats?"

Mizu snorts as she settles down on the carpeted floor, pulling one of the smaller boxes towards her. "Since when was I limited to that?"

You grin excitedly, rushing over to her side with ease. Mizu chuckles at your enthusiasm. You place a kiss on her cheek causing your girlfriend to pause and turn her attention towards you.

"That's so hot of you, Bonnie," You coo, utterly enamored by her. Mizu's soften, the corner of her lips upturned.

There's a softened tension between the two of you as Mizu's eyes roam all over your face. There's a mischievous look on her face. "All it takes for me to get between your legs is a cat tower, really?"

You grin wide at her words. You decide to tease back. "Can you blame me? That's wife material right there."

Mizu drops the box on the floor before finally turning her body to you with an eyebrow upturned. "So you're saying you'll marry me over a cat tower?"

You shrug. "I mean, you, breathing is enough—"

You squeal as you feel the sudden rise of your body from the ground. Mizu sweeps you into her arms, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other gripping your thigh. You flush in her hold as you wrap your legs around her waist.

You squirm in her hold. "Mizu, I didn't say now!"

The raven haired woman pays no attention to your whims as she steps over the boxes and begins to make her way towards her room. "We can do that later." She hums, carrying you with ease.

You turn towards Nora who stares up at both of her parents, innocently licking her paw. "N-Nora!" You whine over Mizu's back. "Nora, help mommy!"

The cat only stretches—letting a loud meow before it jumps on the couch and curls into a ball. You whine at the lack of attentiveness to your apparent danger as your girlfriend chuckles at your try of escaping.

"The cat won't help you, y'know?"

"Mizu!"

"What about this?" Your eyes lock with your girlfriend through the mirror as you fix the front of your dress. Akemi's birthday is just around the corner and plans of going out had been arranged and planned out. The birthday gal had wanted to celebrate her night at a club and your wardrobe lacked the proper attire for an occassion like that. So you went shopping.

The thing is, Mizu had always been your outfit decision-maker. You didn't think much of it before when her gaze landed on yours whenever you showed her an array of outfits for whatever occasion. Now, you feel her stare more intensely as if a knife had delicately touched its tip against your skin and marked its way down with a gentle grip—not enough to harm but enough to entice a reaction.

The dress you chose was satin with a color of your choice—backless and hung around your curves nicely. You subtly turn your body as you admire its simplistic design. Mizu hums from her position on the bed, laying on her side with her elbow propped up to support her weight. You see her tilt her head, eyes taking their sweet time to analyze your figure.

"Bon?" You ask as you turn towards her. Her eyes are half-lidded and you can sense from a mile away the familiar look on her face but you remain ignorant of the tension brewing between you. You choose to turn back towards the mirror, fixing your hair as you adjust the straps. "I don't know if it's fit for a nightclub or an evening dine."

You hear Mizu hum. Just then, you hear shifting on the bed before sock-cladded feet pad through the wooden floors. You see Mizu's figure behind you in the mirror—the subtle size difference of her broad shoulders compared to you heats your cheeks. Her arms make their way around your waist, pulling you flush against her chest as she props her chin on your shoulder. Your eyes lock on the reflection in the mirror as you take careful notes of her appearance. Hair pulled in a half bun, blue eyes devoid of their usual black-rimmed glasses, figure clad in black with a familiar gold chained necklace wrapped loosely around her neck, and her wrist adorned by a silver watch you gifted her on her birthday last year. You heave a breath at the intensity of her stare.

"You look pretty," She mumbles, eyes lost in your figure before placing a soft kiss on your neck. A shiver runs through your spine at her affection, feeling it take course through the expanse of your shoulder. It's slow and soft—making sure each scar and imperfection is not left untouched. You squirm in her arms.

"Mizu," You hum, voice deep and sultry as you lean your head back, allowing her more space to work with. "You're not working with me."

The raven haired gal laughs against your skin as she continues with her ministrations. You feel her hands rumple the fabric, clutching the soft satin material as it bunches up between her fingers. The hem rises up to your thighs, granting your lover a sweet view of home.

"What?" She asks with a teasing tone. You grumble at her mischievous nature. "I was just answering your question."

"I asked if it fit—" You moan slightly as she sucks on the familiar spot behind your ear. "N-not if I was hot. There's a difference."

"Is there?" Her breath hits your ear with a slight deep chuckle of her voice. You feel her trail her kisses towards the nape of your neck, hands beginning to caress your thighs. You watch as the hem of your dress practically rise up to the top of your thighs, granting no sense of decency. You whine as you feel her kiss down your shoulder blades, tongue licking out to mouth at the valley between your shoulders.

"You're so unfair," You breathe out, back arching as she slides her hands to your hips, pulling you back against hers. She smiles, nudging your head to the side as she buries hers against your neck. Your eyes meet at the reflection, gauging each other's response. You would've thought that her ministrations would end then and there but you shouldn't have underestimated your girlfriend. After all, it's always the quiet ones.

Mizu boldly cups your cunt over your dress—a moan escaping your lips. She pulls you flush against her as she nips against the tip of your ears. You remain pinned against her chest, her arm strength keeping you close.

"You fucker," You pant, mouth opening up to a grin as you gripped her arm. She merely gives a you a smirk as she hikes her hand up, grinding her palm against you. Your knees falter.

"I give you my opinion and you curse me out?" Mizu laughs against your ear, placing a peck on your cheek. "Not cute, babe."

"God, you're so annoying," You sigh, hand reaching out to bury itself in Mizu's raven locks. Your girlfriend merely hums, eyes watching you get lost in the pleasure of her fingers. It's as if the fuse in Mizu's head had began to run out of course, she then pulls away from your back and turns you towards her with ease.

You flush as she manhandles you in her arms, pulling you up to wrap your legs around her waist. You grasp at her shoulders at the sudden movement. She pauses, eyes calculating as she eyes you up like a predator waiting for its prey to back down, and knowing you, you'd never back down just like that.

You wrap your arms around her neck, leaning close to brush your lips against hers. "Gonna pull this dress off me or what?" You hum, nose brushing against hers. "If you're too busy eyeing me up instead of fucking me, I got a pretty handy vibrator back in my cabinet."

She chuckles at your boldness, jaw clenching at your words. "You're a fucking brat, y'know that?"

You giggle as she moves you towards the bed. "Gets you every time."

"Why are you limping like that?" Ringo asks you one day as you met up with him and Akemi for class. Thank the Gods that Ringo is naturally innocent like that. It saves you the embarrassment of having to tell two people what Mizu did to you in the morning. Akemi, however, merely raises an eyebrow at you—shaking her head like a disappointed mother. You had underestimated the time it took to get ready, and Mizu in bed wasn't exactly a good component in your determination to focus in the morning. Add the fact that your horny and Mizu is feeling quite energetic at 7 am.

"When I said that I'm happy for you, I was hoping that you'd get to keep the private matters of your relationship finally to a minimum and not for the whole world to see," Akemi deadpans. Ringo looks at her with furrowed eyebrows. "It's quite contradicting but you get my point."

You give her a sheepish smile at her words while Akemi merely sips on her iced coffee. Ringo turns to you with a smile, his hand forming a thumbs up. "Ignore her, I am happy for you."

Akemi grumbles, shifting her leg over her knee. "Can we not talk about this right now? We're about to have an exam."

You and Ringo share a playful look at Akemi's quips, not wanting to be at the receiving end of Akemi's fury. The classroom was slowly filling in with students—all having the same look of despair and exhaustion for the test in a few minutes. You turn towards your bag, hand rummaging through the array of essentials carefully packed from the night before. Your eyebrows furrow as you can't feel the familiar material of your pen case.

"Oh fuck," You murmur, tone panicking as you peered inside your bag. Ringo and Akemi glance at you in concern.

"What?" Ringo asks, ever the concerned hubby that he is. You let a shaky breath as you can't see the familiar cat patterned pen case that Mizu gifted to you last year. Your essentials for the test were in there! While a pen might've been easy to borrow, the other materials were definitely something you couldn't get away with. You turn to Akemi and Ringo with a frown.

"I think I left my pen case at the dorm." You huff in frustration, glancing at the front to check the time. "I can't go back, there's not enough time."

Akemi sighs, head nudging to your phone. "Check with your girlfriend. She might be nearby."

Your shoulders lower in hesitance. "It's class hours. Don't you think I'll be a bother?"

Ringo chuckles quietly in his seat. "You think Mizu would care about that?"

Akemi snorts before propping her arm on the table to place her chin on her palm. "What he said."

You sigh, contemplating your options before finally giving in.

You put your phone down on the surface of your table, cheeks heating up from the conversation. 15 minutes pass with ease and you're left twiddling your thumbs as you glance back and forth from the door to the clock in front.

Just as she said, Mizu appears at the small window of the door, hand waving awkwardly as she raises your pen case. You immediately stand up from your seat, earning curious glances from Akemi and Ringo. You pay them no mind as you shuffle your way to the door, gently opening it to not draw attention before closing it with a soft push behind you.

"Hey," Mizu's deep voice infiltrates your senses as you turn towards her. You immediately take note of her outfit—dark blue rayon skipper collared blouse with sleeves that reached her arms halfway, pale brown slacks cuffed to her ankles, and a pair of white sneakers. Her hair is in its usual bun with the added flare of her orange tinted glasses. You snicker.

Mizu sighs, tilting her head with a deadpan stare. "Why are you laughing?"

You glance at the empty corridor before wrapping your arms around her waist. "You look like a walking sponsor for Uniqlo."

Mizu scoffed, raising the hand grasping the pen case before gently bonking it on your forehead. "You ought to be more thankful to me, pretty."

You grin up at her, hugging her close as you prop your chin on her sternum. You squint your eyes, giving her your most mischievous look. "I'll be sure to put that on my new year's list."

Mizu rolls her eyes, pushing you gently off her before jokingly slamming your pen case on your hand. "There," She says before presenting another paper bag on your hand. "Also, here."

You glance at the paper bag then at her—those perfectly thick and plucked eyebrows arching at you as she waves the paper bag for you to take. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "What's that?"

Mizu shrugged as you peered inside to see a half filled cup of your favorite drink in a large size. You look up at Mizu who tilts her head to the side with a smile. "I got it this morning. Meant to save some for you."

You purse your lips as your heart softens at the gesture. "Mizu," You coo. The gal only leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead.

"Now go ace that test, bon," She smiles. "I'll get you after class."

She waves you goodbye before jogging towards the elevators. You sigh dreamily as she disappears into the corner before walking back inside your classroom. You maneuver your way towards your desk, earning a couple of side glances from Akemi and Ringo.

You sit down, giddily settling down on your seat before you hear someone clear their throat beside you.

"Homesexuals," Akemi clears her throat beside you to which Ringo snorts at. You shoot a glare at them in response.

Mizu is generally, a patient person.

Despite her grumpy responses towards Ringo or her perpetual furrowed eyebrows, eyes squinted into a glare, and her frowned lips whenever Taigen enters the scene, Mizu still is a patient person. You've rarely seen her angry and when she does become angry, it often comes out in seething silence. Eyes that bore into the depths of your soul, face hardened enough to not show any emotion, and a stance evoking authority and dominion over the situation.

You saw it once. When a guy tried to force himself on you during a campus party. It was an unfortunate event really and you didn't want things to escalate but the man didn't back down with his flirting (if you could even call it that). Let's just say that the night ended with a bruise on their face and it's definitely not Mizu.

You're well aware that your girlfriend can pack a punch and certainly knows how to use it. She's well built and has a lot of strength for someone her stature. Taigen calls it a sleeper build—a passing glance from when Mizu helped out with moving Akemi's furniture to her new condo. You definitely agree with that.

That's why you're internally panicking for the aftermath of a similar situation from Akemi's birthday nightout.

"Mizu," You pant, trying to call for her attention but the blinding force of her anger continues to drive her need for you. "Mizu—Ngh! Please listen to me—"

Mizu continues her ministrations on your neck, paying no mind to your squirming body as her hand grabs your thigh with ease—anchoring it to her waist as she slots her torso between your legs.

"Fuck," She growls against the skin of your neck, hair in disarray from the sloppy and heavy makeout session on the way to your bedroom. You vividly remember knocking a frame off your console table when Mizu slammed you against its edge. "I should've fucked him up."

You whine at the bite of her teeth on your shoulder—grasping at her shoulders. "Baby, we have to talk about this—"

Her thigh slots between your legs and hikes it up against your cunt—you mewl at the pressure. Mizu pulls away from your shoulder, licking her lips as she peers down at you with darkened shades of blue. "Talk? You want to talk?"

Her tone resounds with mockery and sarcasm, a seething remembrance of her fury from just a few hours ago. Typically, this behavior would startle you at first but you've grown to learn and love this blue-eyed woman after the years you've spent pining and being oblivious to each other's affection.

"You're not going to do this to me, Mizu," You snarl back, letting out a breathy sigh as her free hand begins to move your hips against her thigh. "You made us leave Akemi's party because of this—that's not–Hngh—t-that's not okay—Fuck!"

Mizu darkly chuckles as she begins to roam her hand underneath your dress. "You talk too much for someone who's about to get fucked."

"Shut the fuck up," You try to return the dominance but her skillful pulls and push of your hips leaves you breathless and keening at her touch. "That guy isn't even worth it, why'd you even—why?"

Mizu feels the inside of your thigh, reveling in the soft flesh as she creeps closer to your mound. "Didn't like the way he looked at you. Mothefucker had the audacity to ask for your number as if he didn't see my hand gripping your thigh. I fucking hate that."

You feel her fingers teeter over the edge of your panties—skin thumbing the material of your underwear, a surprise you wished would be unveiled in different circumstances.

Mizu kisses your pulse point, making sloppy kisses on the area as she continues to speak. "Everything's worth it if it's you."

You arch and mewl at her words, head moving back to give her more room. Mizu smiles at your reaction.

"You like that?" She chuckles deeply. "Like it when I'm being possessive, huh?"

"Oh God," You groan. "Are you going to fuck me or what?"

Mizu pulls away from your neck, brushing her nose against yours as she peers down at your irritated features. "So demanding," She smiles as she leans close and brushes her lips against yours.

Having had enough, your hand grabs her raven tresses—gripping it as you pull her down to close the distance between your mouths. It's all wet and full of passion—desperate sliding of lips against yours. She tilts her head, begging for deeper access as she slides out her tongue to feel more of you. There's a battle for dominance—a battle she's desperately winning. You pull away with a bite on her bottom lip, gently pulling it before licking your lips.

"Damn." Mizu lets out a breathless chuckle from the kiss, all the more turned on from your confident nature. You smile up at her with a grin.

"I suggest putting all that anger into something useful," You pant as you guide her hand to pull your dress up more.

You watch as she pulls the dress off, eyes widening at the lingerie set you've worn for the night. You see her hunger double at the sight.

"Fuck me up, Mizu." You mewl as you arch your back to present your body to her. Her jaw clenches at your words.

Just as you had said those words, you yelp in surprise as she pulls you down the bed—sheets ruffling in the process before pinning your legs to your chest.

"I'll fucking kill anyone who gets to see you like this," Her words are dark—an apparent shiver running through your spine at the process. You mewl at her domineering figure, watching as she marvels at the way the fabric highlights your figure.

Mizu then moves the fabric covering your cunt to the side, letting out a shaky breath at the process. She dives in without hesitance, tongue poking out to take a straight and slow lick from your hole to your clit.

"Oh!" You moan loudly, hand darting to grasp at her raven locks. "Fuck!"

She wastes no time in eating you out—licking and slurping as if this is the last meal she'll ever have. Your thighs quiver at the magnitude of pleasure she brings forth. You've never been this overwhelmed with the pleasure as you choke over your moans—grasping and clawing at the sheets or her hand gripping your thighs. You eye her arms—sleeves of her button-up hiked up to her elbows, showcasing the veins popping and rising at the harsh grip she has on your body. The sight heats you up even more.

You flush as she peers up at you from the comforts of your pussy—blue eyes clouded with lust and want as she makes precise twirls and flicks with her tongue. Goddamn her mouth feels like fucking heaven.

"You're so pretty," She mouths over your clit, teasing with a few licks before spreading it with her fingers to not let one spot untouched. You moan at her tenacity. "All mine. All fucking mine."

Just as the pleasure couldn't get any worse, Mizu rubs her index and middle over your hole before slipping it inside with ease. With all the wetness from her mouth and the slick coming from you, the penetration is done with no difficulty. She then makes a few thrusts of her fingers before flexing her digits in a come hither motion. The tips of her lengthy digits reach the familiar gummy spot within you. You yelp at the sudden spike of pleasure, thighs slightly closing.

"Right here?" She asks, breathless. You become lost in the pleasure—drunk from the high Mizu's giving you.

"Ngh! Mizu please!" You plead, unsure of what exactly you're asking. Mizu licks her lips before adjusting her hand—palm brushing over your clit. She then begins to speed up her thrusts—making an up-and-down motion on her wrist as wet noises begin to come out of your cunt.

"M-Mizu! F-Fuck—I can't—!" You scream as the tips of her fingers continuously hit that familiar spot. She pays no mind to your whims, ignoring your hands reaching out to grab her arm. It doesn't take too long before you feel an intense knot in your core, as if you're going to release something you shouldn't. With a final flick of her wrist, a ray of clear liquid squirts out of your pussy as you scream in pleasure. You twitch and shiver in her hold as she darts down to slurp up your release.

You whine and keen at the sensitivity, hands darting out to push Mizu away. She continues to lick every part of your cunt—swollen and perfectly pink from her ministriations. "M-Mizu! S-Stop—Hah—please—!"

Once satisfied, the raven-haired gal moves up with a smile. "Good girl," she praises.

You watch as she removes the rest of you and her clothes then untying her hair before adjusting your legs—raising the other as she slots between them. You whine at the sensitivity.

"I can't, please—" You sob, eyes tearing up from being oversensitive. Mizu coos at you as she grinds her cunt against yours. You flinch, hands darting down to her hips.

"Yes you can baby," She kisses your leg, holding it to her shoulder. "You can give me one more, won't you angel?"

You pant as she speeds up her thrusts, the pleasure begins to build up once more. Your first orgasm wasn't far along and so the coming of the second comes with ease. You remain listless on the sheets, eyes watching as Mizu's hips make skillful circles—cunt rubbing against yours deliciously.

"Tell me you're mine," She pants, hair gathered to her shoulder. The sweat and flush on her skin make her more ethereal. "Tell me who do you belong to, hm?"

She demands rather than asks and with the cloudiness of the high she keeps giving you, you succumb to her authority.

"I-I'm yours," You whine, hands gripping her thighs as she begins to speed up. You feel the familiar knot of your climax begin to unravel. "I'm yours."

Mizu's thrusts begin to become inconsistent and with a few more grinds and circles of her hips, you release with a loud moan as Mizu follows after.

She drops down on you with a pant, obviously exhausted from the strenuous activity. There's a moment of reprieve as you revel in the afterglow of sex.

Your laughter breaks the silence. "You should get jealous more often," You jest. "So that I can get laid like this again—Fuck that was good."

Mizu chuckles from her spot on your neck. She props herself up with her arms beside your head. "And here you were asking to talk when we both knew that's never going to happen."

You giggle at her words, arms wrapping around her waist. You then let out a sigh. "God, I love your tongue."

Mizu rolls her eyes, gently removing herself from the sweaty intertwine of limbs. You pout at the loss of her body heat. "Starting to think that you really just love me for my body, don't you?"

You raise your hands in a joking manner. "Consider me guilty."

Mizu throws a pillow towards you before rising from the bed. You admire her naked figure as she runs her fingers through her raven locks. Mizu notices your gaze.

"Keep your eyes to yourself, creep." She squints her eyes to glare. You roll your eyes in response.

"Such a hypocrite," You retort. "As if you weren't rambling about how possessive you we—AGH!"

The raven-haired girl tackles you into the bed, hands coming to tickle you to death. You both laugh and giggle at each other, reveling in the atmosphere brought forward by your chemistry.

You suppose you could never get tired of this. Not when it's Mizu.

___

There's not much change after you and Mizu finally got together but u suppose its probably the cat

Mizu has the tendency to match with your outfit. Whenever you ask her abt it, she just claims its a coincidence

When Mizu got her first camera, she took pictures of you and her together. She got the film printed. (She has a picture of you on the back of her phone and you have hers on yours)

Your go to gift for Mizu are socks and tea

Mizu is eerily similar to Nora. Sometimes you catch them pausing and staring at each other in the living room. it's quite funny.

Peers around campus are funnily giving you thumbs up and congratulatory shakes as if you getting together is a monumental achievement in history (It's bc of Taigen).

Mizu becomes all the more service-giving once you get together (she opens doors for you, pulls your chair for you to sit on, brushing a stray hair away from your face). She likes it bc u give her kisses now.

Mizu subconsciously plays with your fingers when holding hands. Though her fave part to put her hand on is your thighs. she claims that she likes the feeling.

Mizu often asks for your opinion on things whether it be for work, academics, or day to day life. Its because she regards you important and dear to her. She wants to share her life with you.

The moment you disclosed your relationship with your friends, Ringo legit pulled out a party popper

Mizu IS a walking UNIQLO sponsor (you cannot count how many rayon blouses she has in her closet. she claims its bc she likes the fabric)

You jokingly proposed to Mizu with a candy pop ring. Mizu proposed to you back with a can tab.

Mizu orders her drinks in the largest cup size bc she gives it to u after when u meet up for lunch mwehe (coincidentally its your fave drink as well)

Taigen was so confused as to why Mizu just bolted from her seat (pen case part) during their lab time together and when he asked what happened when she came back, she said, "Ah. Bonnie needed help." Taigen wants to explode.

Mizu is quite open to casual PDA. she says goodbye to u in the form of forehead kisses.

overall, you and Mizu are just so cute and so mwa mwa and i just wanna put yall in my pocket hehe

______________

A/N: HEYAAA this is finally done. not proofread so im gonna have to make edits to this tom. happy new year everyone !!! hope u like this roommate mizu! also to the ppl who saw this halfway done... no u didnt ....

#Spotify #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu bes #mizu smut #blue eye samurai x you #the blue eyed samurai x reader #blue eyed samurai

680 notes · View notes

baekguuuuu · 2 months ago

Text

The Way I Loved You

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Angst, Romance

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s The Way I Loved You. Through flashbacks and present-day reflections, you navigate the highs and lows of both relationships, ultimately confronting what your heart truly wants. A story of passion, longing, and self-discovery, this is a journey of realizing that sometimes, the love that burns the brightest is the one that leaves you scorched.

I met Baekhyun during a summer that I still replay in my mind sometimes, like a sun-drenched film reel I can’t bring myself to burn. It was at a music festival where he’d performed with his band. I wasn’t supposed to be there—my friends had dragged me along, insisting it would be fun that I needed to live a little.

“You’ll love it,” my best friend had said, nudging me toward the front of the crowd as Baekhyun’s band took the stage. She was wrong, though. I didn’t love it.

I fell.

Baekhyun had this way of commanding attention, his voice like honey dripping into the sunlight, thick and golden and impossible to resist. But it wasn’t just his voice; it was the way his eyes sparkled with mischief when he cracked a joke between songs and the way he laughed like the world existed just to amuse him. He was magnetic, and I was the iron.

After the set, I found myself backstage with my friends, courtesy of one’s VIP connections. Baekhyun spotted me immediately as if I’d been glowing in the dark. “Hey,” he said, his voice still hoarse from singing. “Enjoy the show?”

I should’ve played it cool. Instead, I blurted, “You were incredible.”

His grin widened, and he leaned closer, his eyes locking onto mine. “What’s your name?”

Our relationship was a whirlwind, a thrilling ride on the back of his motorcycle, the city lights blurring into a tapestry of excitement. Baekhyun was unlike anyone I’d ever met, a mix of chaos and charm wrapped in leather jackets and calloused fingertips. He made me feel alive in ways that both scared and thrilled me.

We fell fast and hard, like a meteor streaking across the sky—brilliant, unforgettable, and destined to burn out. But I didn’t know that then. All I knew was the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the world, the way he made me laugh until I couldn’t breathe, the way he kissed me like it was the only thing that mattered.

Being with Baekhyun was like living in a whirlwind. It was thrilling, unpredictable, and chaotic—sometimes in ways that left me breathless and other times in ways that made my chest ache. We burned bright, but bright flames have a way of leaving marks.

It wasn’t always chaos with Baekhyun. He had a way of being so disarmingly sweet, of pulling me into his world with a smile or a glance. I still remember the night he taught me to play the piano.

We were at his apartment, a modest space cluttered with sheet music and half-empty coffee mugs. He pulled me toward the small upright piano tucked against the wall, a mischievous grin lighting up his face.

“Come here,” he said, patting the bench beside him. “I’m going to teach you something.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I can barely manage using chopsticks. What makes you think I can learn anything else?”

“Because I’m the best teacher,” he said with mock arrogance, his fingers playing a gentle melody that made my heart skip. “And because I believe in you.”

His words made my cheeks flush, but I sat beside him, letting him place my hands on the keys. His touch was warm, guiding my fingers with patient precision. Every time I fumbled, he’d laugh softly, his voice like a soothing balm.

“You’re getting it,” he said, his eyes sparkling with pride as I managed a simple tune.

When I finally got it right, he turned to me, his face just inches from mine. “See? You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice low and earnest.

At that moment, the world outside faded away. It was just Baekhyun and me, the music lingering in the air like a promise. And when he leaned in to kiss me, his lips soft and full of affection, I knew I was falling—fast and hard.

It started with the little things. His tendency to cancel plans at the last minute because something more exciting came up. The way he could be so charming with everyone but distant when it was just us. I told myself it was just how he was, that he didn’t mean to hurt me. And when he apologized, when he pulled me close and whispered how much I meant to him, I believed him every time.

I remembered being at a party, one of those gatherings in which Baekhyun always thrived. He stood at the center of the living room, laughing effortlessly, his charm magnetic as everyone gravitated toward him. The way he commanded attention was almost unfair—effortless, natural, like he was born to shine under every light in the room.

I watched him from the couch, holding a half-empty glass of wine and trying not to let the pang of loneliness creep up on me. Baekhyun threw his head back at something someone said, his laugh lighting up the room, and for a moment, I felt that familiar tug in my chest. He was breathtaking like this—untouchable and dazzling.

But then his eyes flickered to me. Just for a second. And instead of warmth or an invitation, there was... nothing.

“Hey,” I called softly when he finally made his way over, his drink in hand. “You having fun?”

“Yeah, it’s great,” he said, his voice distant. His gaze darted around the room, already looking for his next conversation.

“Baekhyun,” I said, reaching for his arm. “Can we talk for a second?”

He frowned, pulling his arm back like my touch burned him. “Now? Can’t it wait? Everyone’s here—I don’t want to kill the mood.”

Everyone was there. The words hit me harder than I wanted to admit.

“It’s just... you’ve barely talked to me all night,” I murmured, keeping my voice low.

His eyes softened, but only briefly. “I’m sorry. You know how I get at these things. I’ll come find you later, okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. “Later.”

But later never came.

I stayed on the couch, watching him charm the room while feeling more invisible than I ever had. He apologized the next day, and the cycle continued.

The apologies became too frequent, and the moments of closeness felt like borrowed time.

“You said you’d be there, Baekhyun,” I said, my voice trembling as I clutched my phone.

“I forgot, okay?” he replied, his tone dismissive, like forgetting my graduation ceremony for getting my Master’s was no big deal.

“You forgot?” My laugh was bitter. “Do you know how embarrassing it was, standing there alone while everyone else had their families and friends?”

“I didn’t ask you to rely on me for everything!” he shot back.

The line went quiet as I stared at my reflection in the window, his words slicing through me like a blade. Rely on him? Wasn’t that what people in love were supposed to do?

For all the chaos that came with loving Baekhyun, there were moments that made me feel like I was the only person in the world. Like the time he surprised me with a late-night picnic under the stars because I’d mentioned missing the quiet of my childhood summers. Or how he’d rest his head in my lap and trace invisible patterns on my skin, murmuring about how lucky he was to have me.

He had this way of making me feel seen, as though I wasn’t just someone he loved, but someone he adored. Someone he respected. With Baekhyun, it wasn’t just about passion—it was about the way he’d hold my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, or how he’d kiss my forehead as if sealing a promise only he could understand.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” he whispered breathlessly as I lay beneath him. He collapsed on top of me, our bare chests touching against one another as we both caught our breaths after expressing love through actions.

He made me feel like a real woman, like I was more than just his girlfriend. Like I was his muse, his equal, and his refuge all at once. And in those moments, I forgot about the fights, the letdowns, the parts of him that hurt me. Because in the way he loved me, I felt whole.

But it wasn’t just the fights. It was the in-betweens. The way he’d light up a room, captivating everyone, only for me to realize I was standing in the shadows. The way he’d make promises that felt so solid in the moment but crumbled under the weight of his restless energy. The way he’d kiss me like I was his whole world, only to turn around and leave me wondering where I stood.

Then came the night that ended it all.

We were standing in the rain, arguing over something I couldn’t even remember now. His face was a mix of frustration and sadness as raindrops traced his sharp features. “Why can’t you just trust me?” he yelled, his voice carrying over the downpour.

“Trust you?” I shot back, my voice cracking. “You disappear for hours, break promises, and you expect me to trust you? You can’t keep doing this, Baekhyun!”

“I’m trying!” he shouted, stepping closer. “I’m trying to be better for you, but it’s never enough, is it?”

I could feel the tears mixing with the rain as I whispered, “I just want to feel like I matter to you. Like I’m not always chasing after you, trying to catch up.”

His silence said more than any words could. And that was the moment I knew. We loved each other but weren’t enough to make it work. Not then.

Although Baekhyun did try to fix it—us… however, it was too late then.

It had been two weeks since we broke up, but Baekhyun still called—persistent, unrelenting, just like the way he loved.

When I answered, his voice was soft, almost hesitant. “Can we talk?”

I hesitated. “Baekhyun, we’ve said everything already. There’s nothing left to talk about.”

“No,” he cut me off, his tone firm. “You talked, and I listened. Now it’s my turn.”

Reluctantly, I agreed to meet him at the café where we used to spend lazy Sunday afternoons. When I arrived, he was already there, sitting by the window with two cups of coffee on the table. He looked up, his expression a mixture of hope and fear, and for a brief moment, my heart clenched.

“I know I messed up,” he began the moment I sat down. “And I know I don’t deserve it, but I need you to give me another chance.”

I stared at him, trying to find the anger, the bitterness, anything that would drown out the faint longing I felt just being near him. “Baekhyun, we didn’t work. You know that.”

“I can change,” he said, leaning closer. “I will change. I’ll prove it to you, I swear. Just don’t give up on us.”

I shook my head, my voice trembling. “It’s not just about you needing to change. It’s about me, too. I can’t keep feeling like I’m not enough for you, like I have to keep chasing you to stay in this relationship. It hurts too much.”

His eyes softened, and he reached for my hand, but I pulled away. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

Tears stung my eyes, but I forced myself to stand. “I know. But love isn’t enough if we keep hurting each other.”

I left him sitting there, his hand still outstretched, and I didn’t look back.

It wasn’t the last time I saw Baekhyun.

It happened on a crisp evening outside the cozy bistro Chanyeol had picked for dinner. The warm light from the restaurant spilled onto the sidewalk as we stepped out, laughter lingering between us. Chanyeol had his arm around me, casual and protective, as we talked about the movie we planned to watch next.

Then I saw him.

Baekhyun was leaning against his motorcycle, his leather jacket slightly unzipped, revealing a hoodie underneath. His helmet dangled from his fingers, and his eyes, dark and searching, found mine almost instantly.

I froze, my breath catching. He didn’t move closer, didn’t call my name. He simply stood there, his gaze flickering briefly to Chanyeol and back to me.

“Do you know him?” Chanyeol asked, his voice breaking through my trance.

“Yes,” I managed, my voice barely above a whisper. “He’s... Baekhyun.”

Understanding dawned in Chanyeol’s eyes. “Do you want to—?”

“No,” I interrupted, grabbing his arm. “Let’s go.”

But as Chanyeol got his car keys from the valet, I found myself glancing back. Baekhyun was still there, watching us with a calmness that unnerved me.

Later that night, I texted him. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

His reply was immediate. “I didn’t come there to make a scene. I just wanted to see you. I’ll always want to see you.”

My hands trembled as I typed my next message, wanting to leave me alone as I was already with someone. “Chanyeol is everything you’re not. He’s steady, reliable, and perfect in every way.”

His response came after a long pause. “I know. But does he make you happy?”

I stared at the screen, the question echoing louder than I cared to admit.

For weeks after our breakup, Baekhyun had tried. He’d texted me late at night, asking if we could talk, only for me to leave him on read. He’d show up outside my building, waiting in the cold just to catch a glimpse of me, but I’d slip past him with my head down.

At first, I thought he’d never stop. That Baekhyun would always fight for us the way he used to fight for his music. But then, one day, he didn’t. The calls stopped. The texts stopped. The spaces where his presence used to linger felt hauntingly empty.

Chanyeol’s hand rested gently on mine as he drove us back to his place. The radio played softly in the background, something easy and inoffensive. He glanced at me, his smile warm and steady. “You’ve been quiet. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just tired.”

“Long week, huh?” he said, squeezing my hand.

“Yeah,” I echoed, the word feeling heavy in my mouth. Long, but not in the way he thought.

Chanyeol was perfect. He was everything I thought I wanted. But lately, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing—or rather, someone.

I hated myself for it. For thinking of Baekhyun when Chanyeol was right there, being thoughtful and kind and everything Baekhyun never was. But the heart doesn’t care about logic, decency, or what’s fair. The heart wants what it wants, even when it’s the last thing you need.

Everything in my life was perfect, actually. From the immaculately arranged breakfast trays to the gentle good mornings that greeted me, nothing was ever out of place. Not him, not the way he loved me—kindly, patiently, like I was the most delicate thing in the world.

Chanyeol was different. Steady. Consistent. Reliable in ways Baekhyun never was. He’d show up on time, remember the little things, and genuinely listen when I spoke. He was warm and patient, a safe harbor in the storm that had been my life with Baekhyun.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked as he wrapped his arm behind me, placing a gentle kiss on my bare shoulder. The sunlight filtering through the curtains felt almost too perfect.

I nodded, offering him a small smile. “I did. Thank you for asking.”

“You know, we could go for a picnic this weekend,” he said, his voice warm and steady. “The weather’s been lovely lately.”

That’s how it always was—planned, predictable, steady. And yet, I found myself drifting off, my mind wandering to a time when nothing about my life was steady. Back to a time when Baekhyun would show up unannounced, his motorcycle roaring in the distance, his grin wide and wild.

“Get on!” he’d yell, not even giving me time to protest. The wind whipping through my hair as we sped through the streets had been chaos—unrestrained, untamed, exhilarating chaos.

“Does that sound good?” Chanyeol’s voice pulled me back to the present.

“Sorry, what?” I asked, blinking at him.

He chuckled softly. “The picnic. This Saturday?”

“Oh. Yes, that sounds… nice.”

When we started dating, I thought I’d found what I’d been missing. He made me feel cared for, and valued in a way I’d longed for during my time with Baekhyun. My friends were ecstatic when I told them about Chanyeol.

“He’s so perfect for you,” they’d say, their eyes glinting with approval. Even my parents, who were always wary of the guys I dated, took an instant liking to him. They adored his polite manners, his steady career, and the way he treated me with respect.

“He’s everything we could have hoped for you,” my mom had gushed over dinner one night, her smile so wide it hurt to look at.

But there was one thing he couldn’t do: he couldn’t make my heart race the way Baekhyun did.

It wasn’t fair to compare them, but my mind did it anyway. Chanyeol’s hugs were warm, but they didn’t leave me dizzy. His kisses were soft and sweet but didn’t set my skin on fire. His laughter was kind but didn’t echo in my chest like Baekhyun’s.

“You okay?” Chanyeol asked, noticing the faraway look in my eyes.

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing important,” I lied. How could I tell him what I was thinking about Baekhyun? How much did I miss the chaos, the fire, and the way he made me feel alive even when he was breaking my heart?

Chanyeol nudged my upper body so I could face him. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear; his thumb never left the skin of my cheek.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

The words from him should have made my heart soar. His voice was calm, steady, full of certainty—the kind I’d spent years craving. But instead of feeling weightless, I felt heavy, like every part of me was tied to something I couldn’t quite see.

“Thank you,” I murmured, my smile politely measured. He deserved that much.

I knew very well that Chanyeol deserved someone who could give him more than vague responses and distant smiles—someone who could love him the way he loved me—with unwavering calm and clarity. But my heart, stupid and stubborn as it was, still ached for something else. Someone else.

It happened on a quiet afternoon. Chanyeol and I were at his apartment, sorting through takeout boxes while a soft playlist played in the background. He was humming along, his warm, familiar presence filling the room.

I should’ve been content. Happy, even. But as I watched him move around with practiced ease, I felt a strange hollowness creeping in—a sense that something essential was missing.

The second I turned my head, the ghost of Baekhyun’s laughter crashed into me like a wave. Loud. Chaotic. Carefree. And all at once, I was drowning again, swallowed whole by the memory of him.

The weight of my realization grew heavier with every passing day. Pretending that everything was fine with Chanyeol felt like suffocating under the mask I wore. I wanted to be fair to him, to not let my heart wander when he had done nothing but love me. But the truth was, I wasn’t entirely his, and I never had been.

It hit me one quiet evening while Chanyeol and I were watching a movie. He had his arm around me, his steady presence a comfort I knew I didn’t deserve.

I’d sworn I wanted stability, but stability felt like numbness. And as I sat there, nestled in Chanyeol’s embrace, I realized I didn’t feel anything close to what I used to feel for Baekhyun. Not even a shadow of it.

Chanyeol turned to me with a small smile as we sat on his couch. “You’ve been quiet. What’s on your mind?”

I hesitated, not knowing how to explain the chaos swirling in my head. “Just... thinking about life.”

“Anything specific?” he asked gently, his hand resting on mine.

And that’s when it hit me—how much I missed Baekhyun.

I missed his fire, his unpredictability, the way he could make me feel like I was the center of his chaotic universe. I missed how he could pull me into his orbit with just one look, how his laughter could chase away the darkest clouds. I missed him, even with all his flaws, because loving Baekhyun was like standing in the middle of a storm and feeling more alive than ever.

Chanyeol was perfect in every way, but he wasn’t Baekhyun. He couldn’t make my heart race or my world tilt on its axis. And I realized then, with painful clarity, that I was holding on to Chanyeol because he was safe, not because he was the one I wanted.

He deserved someone who could love him wholeheartedly, and I hated myself for not being that person.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, pulling my hand away.

“For what?” Chanyeol asked, concern etched on his face.

“For not being honest with you. For trying to force something that was never going to work.”

His expression faltered, and I felt a pang of guilt, but I couldn’t stay silent anymore. “I care about you, Chanyeol. But my heart... it’s not here. It’s with someone else.”

“I want you to be happy,” he said, his voice steady despite the pain in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, guilt threatening to swallow me whole.

“Don’t be,” he said, smiling sadly. “Sometimes, love isn’t about who’s perfect on paper. It’s about who makes your heart feel full.”

That night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The pieces fell into place one by one, each more damning than the last. I didn’t want stability. I wanted fire, chaos, the kind of love that consumed you even when it hurt. I wanted Baekhyun.

One evening, I found myself standing outside Baekhyun’s apartment. It had been months since I’d last seen him, months since we had parted ways under the rain, months since the last time he tried to reach out. Yet, the thought of facing him again made my pulse race and my hands tremble.

When he opened the door, his expression shifted from surprise to something softer, almost vulnerable. “You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice low.

“I know,” I whispered. “But I needed to see you.”

He stepped aside to let me in, his movements hesitant. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something unidentifiable in the air, grounding me and making my heart ache.

“So, what’s this about?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, his arms crossed defensively.

“I…” My words faltered. I had rehearsed this moment in my head countless times, yet now that I was here, I didn’t know where to begin.

“You’re with Chanyeol,” he said, filling the silence. His tone wasn’t accusatory, but it wasn’t neutral either. “He’s good for you.”

“I ended it,” I admitted, my voice cracking. “He’s not you.”

His sharp intake of breath echoed in the small space between us. “You can’t do this,” he said, shaking his head. “You can’t just come back and say things like that. You made it clear you wanted me out of your life.”

“I know it’s selfish,” I replied, stepping closer. “But I had to tell you the truth. I thought I wanted stability, someone who could give me the kind of love that didn’t hurt. But Baekhyun, nothing compares to what we had.”

“What we had nearly destroyed us,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “Do you think I’ve forgotten how much we hurt each other?”

“I was scared,” I whispered. “Scared of going back to the way things were. Of us hurting each other again.”

I swallowed hard, tears welling in my eyes. “But I also remember the way you made me feel, like I was alive in a way I’ve never felt since. You were my fire, Baekhyun, and I don’t think I can live without that.”

He looked away, his jaw clenching as he processed my words. “You’re asking me to take a risk again. To go back to something we’ve already proved doesn’t work.”

“Baekhyun… I’m asking you to try,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Because I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

For a moment, the silence between us was deafening. Then, he closed the distance between us in two quick strides, his hands cupping my face as he pressed his lips to mine. It wasn’t the soft, tentative kiss of someone testing the waters. It was raw, desperate, and full of all the emotions we’d kept bottled up for far too long.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against mine. “If we do this again,” he said, his voice trembling, “we do it right. No more games, no more breaking each other’s hearts.”

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. “No more games.”

The space between us disappeared as he stepped forward, his hands cupping my face. His touch was tentative, as though he was afraid I might disappear. “I’ll do better this time,” he whispered. “I promise.”

I smiled through the tears that blurred my vision. “I know you will.”

His lips met mine, soft and tentative at first, as if he was afraid I might disappear. But as I kissed him back, all the walls I’d built crumbled, and the love I’d tried to bury came rushing back like a tidal wave.

The chaos, the fire, the love—it was all still there, waiting for us to embrace it. Together.

It wasn’t easy, and there were times when I questioned if we were doing the right thing. But for every doubt, there was a moment that reminded me why I chose him. The way he held my hand like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way he’d look at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, his gaze full of unspoken emotions. The way he made me laugh, even on my worst days.

One rainy afternoon, as we sat on the couch, Baekhyun was strumming his guitar while I hummed along to the melody, and I realized something. Love didn’t have to be flawless to be worth fighting for. It just had to be real. And with Baekhyun, it always was.

His fingers paused on the strings, and he looked at me with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “You’re off-key,” he teased, leaning closer.

I swatted his arm, laughing. “You’re off-rhythm.”

“Touché,” he said, setting the guitar down and pulling me into his lap. “But admit it, you missed my genius.”

Rolling my eyes, I rested my head against his shoulder, listening to the rain patter against the windows. These quiet moments felt different now—gentler, softer, like we’d found the balance we used to lack.

I couldn’t help the giggle escaping my lips when I felt his fingers crawl from my knee to my inner thigh. “Seriously?” I clicked my tongue, giving him a playful glare. “Last night was not enough?”

“Never,” Baekhyun trailed kisses from my jaw to my neck; his fingers started to undo the knot of my shorts. “I can never get enough of you.”

We’d both changed in the months since we found our way back to each other. Baekhyun still had his restless energy and still liked to push boundaries, but now he made an effort to include me in his world. And I learned to trust him again, little by little, realizing that love didn’t mean perfection—it meant showing up, trying, and forgiving.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Did you know you’re the best thing that ever happened to me?”

I tilted my head to look at him, my heart swelling at the sincerity in his gaze, trying so hard to focus on his words and not on his touches at the moment. “I think I’m finally starting to believe you.”

“You should,” he murmured, placing a soft kiss on my lips and laying me down on the soft cushion of the couch. “Because I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it.”

We weren’t perfect—no relationship ever is. But we were learning, growing, and most importantly, choosing each other every single day.

For the first time, I felt like we were enough.

And just like that, the chaos returned. However, this time, it felt like home.

#baekhyun #baekhyun angst #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun imagine #exo #exo smut #exo imagines #exo fanfic #baekhyun fanfic #exo scenarios

69 notes · View notes

kpop-locks · 2 years ago

Text

꒰ ˀˀ ↷ baekhyun: night aesthetic"♡ᵎ ꒱

like/reblog | @prplocks

don’t repost our work or claim it as yours

#baekhyun #baekhyun exo #exo #baekhyun lockscreen #baekhyun lockscreens #baekhyun locks #byun baekhyun wallpapers #baekhyun wallpapers #byun baekhyun wallpaper #baekhyun wallpaper #byun baekhyun lockscreens #byun baekhyun lockscreen #exo locks #exo wallpapers #exo wallpaper #exo lockscreens #exo lockscreen #mavi

68 notes · View notes

anyamaris · 3 months ago

Text

Secrets of the Heart

Pairing: Guardian!Baekhyun x Guardian!F!Reader

Dark Academia Career: Mystical Guardians/Keepers of Ancient Knowledge

Summary: For ages, a secret society has kept the darkest, most dangerous mysteries hidden from the world to keep it safe. By training guardians who show the capability to fight and protect these ancient relics from falling into the wrong hands, two compatible students are placed in hidden vaults after extensive training. You've longed for this your entire life, but then you find yourself trapped with the one man you never wanted to see again.

Word Count: 4827

Genre/Trope: Dark Academia/Non Idol AU, smut/angst, magical au

Warnings: Adult language, magical references, reader is a grump, Baek is Baek 💕oral (f. receiving), implied rough school years, overarching ideas of dark, dangerous secrets in the vault.

Tags- @lapydiaries @ksmutsociety @cafekitsune for the amazing dividers!

Thank you @pars-ley @yoonguurt and @frenchkisstheabyss for beta reading and helping me get this done!

A HUGE thank you to @potatomountain for the gorgeous banner, you're amazing!

A/N: This is for the @ksmutsociety Dark Academia event The Velvet Vault. This is part one, so I hope you all enjoy and I want to thank all the other participants for all the fun we had together working on these! I can't wait to read them! Check out other authors here!

It has taken you days to decipher the clues, but you’ve finally arrived at your destination.

Your heart almost leaps from your chest in excitement as you walk through the unassuming doors before you.

The tension in your shoulders seems to abate the tiniest bit as you take in the vast interior of the actual vault.

From the outside, it only appears as a maintenance door in an otherwise abandoned area.

Yet here, beneath the acres of wilderness in the middle of nowhere, lies a wealth of knowledge and secrets that only few in this world will ever even be aware of.

You think back on the letter you’d received for your posting weeks ago.

“Guardian 1485, you’ve been assigned to your post. Consider this your final test, and thank you for your service.”

From the outside, such a letter would give nothing away, but everything you needed to find your way lay in the inconspicuous note.

Using everything you’ve learned during your time at the academy, you’d left the populated world to inhabit this subterranean utopia.

It didn’t need to be said that failing would result in the very treasures of wisdom you’re now raking your eager eyes over to be locked away from your gaze forever.

You’d descended the timeworn stairs for what felt like ages, until you found yourself before the ancient doors that symbolized the culmination of your hard earned efforts.

The vast open room before you looms stories high, shelves of books appearing to disappear into the reaches above you, rolling ladders positioned here and there to take you up to the next little balcony to access small areas.

Makes sense now why I went down so many stairs, you think to yourself as you take in your new home.

Home…you think, your eyes fluttering closed at the comforting thought.

Hitching the strap of the duffle bag higher on your shoulder, you smile softly to yourself as you slowly turn around in a circle once more, enjoying the beautiful view of what is likely just the surface of what hides down here.

A large table sits amidst the open space in the middle of the cavernous room, as well as small alcoves here and there to perch and work.

Sconces adorn the dark paneled walls, allowing you to appreciate how vast the massive room actually is.

Before long, you find yourself wandering away from the library area, noticing the small halls branching off in three directions from the large room.

The first hall seems to lead to kitchen and dining areas, so you head towards the middle hallway.

You pause briefly before you head down that way, eyes drawn to the third hallway.

A shiver runs down your spine as your thoughts run wild about what lies that way, as there's a scrawling script carved into the threshold.

Both excitement and apprehension mix as you decide to settle in first, before getting swept away by your curiosity.

I wonder if my partner has arrived, you think to yourself as you finally set your feet on the path to your new lodgings.

An open framed doorway shows off a common area, filled with comfy looking couches, a few small tables as well as some bookshelves that appear to have board games, and much more modern books for leisure reading.

A small television adorns the far wall and you smile as you notice there are even a few gaming consoles on the shelf beneath.

You can only assume that your unknown companion is either already further down in a room, or hasn’t arrived yet.

Turning to continue down the hall, you take in a dining room, what appears to be a small storage area, then two doors opposite one another at the end of the hall.

As you head towards them, a soft humming fills the silence, and you realize you’re not alone.

Ah, they must be here already, you think to yourself as you notice the door on the left is open a crack.

The melodic voice draws you in, and you can’t stop yourself from taking a peek through the gap to seek out the owner.

Wide shoulders grace your sight, short dark hair skimming the collar of a black shirt.

The figure looks to be unpacking his own personal duffle as he sings, and you feel yourself enraptured by his lovely song.

You know that the assignments are random, so this man could be from any of the academies around the world.

Hopefully he’s-

Your thoughts die in your mind as the figure turns, and you notice you’ve pushed the door open further without even realizing it.

It wasn’t the abrupt end of the melody that has your entire being sinking into the depths of despair opening up beneath you.

No, it was the man that the glorious ballad belonged to that has you begging to be swallowed whole by the void.

The dark brown eyes dance merrily, completely freezing your tongue as a voice you know all too well shatters your dreams.

“It’s you! What a surprise!”

It’s as if your very soul slowly seeps out of your body, as his voice knocks you right back to the life you’d left behind at the academy.

Of all the people, of all the Guardians you could have possibly been assigned with….

His big goofy grin breaks you from your frozen trance as he approaches you, looking as if this isn’t the worst thing to ever happen.

Finally managing a weak semblance of a smile, you just let out a soft breath.

“Yeah…great.” you all but groan.

The one person you thought you’d finally been rid of.

Byun Baekhyun.

Weeks have passed and you’ve done your best to settle into this new, fascinating environment.

This was everything you’ve longed for, worth every agonizing minute spent in the harsh preparation you were subjected to at the academy.

Solitude, tranquility, exhilaration.

All things you feel as you inhale the ancient parchment of the script before you.

Diligently translating the forbidden text, you find yourself lost in reverie, pondering what type of person belonged to the hand that had penned this.

The chime of the large lock startles you from your focus, drawing your gaze from the yellowed pages before you.

Arching your back as you look up, your jaw crack open in a large yawn.

Midnight already? You think, rolling your shoulders as you rub your eyes with a fist.

It was sunlight before you’d sat down with this set of tomes, but clearly the day had gotten away from you.

Smiling to yourself, you gently place the silk ribbon between the pages, closing the heavy tome before standing to allow your blood to flow a bit better to your legs.

“It’s like we’re right back at the academy.” A cheerful voice breaks the silence, and it takes everything within you to not groan out loud in annoyance.

Baekhyun just grins at you, perching in one of the narrow alcoves with his legs extended, a laptop resting on his thighs.

“Not quite.” You mutter, turning to ignore the man as you ponder when the last time you ate was.

“Did you want to eat?” Baekhyun’s voice seems to pluck the very thoughts from your mind, raising your irritation even more.

“Fine.” You grumble, not even turning to look his way as you head towards the kitchen hall.

Even though it’s been weeks since you’d walked through those doors, you’d barely spoken a handful of words at the man.

He acts as if we’re friendly, as if he’s completely clueless that it’s better not to interact with one another.

“Did you want to try the-” He starts.

Finally feeling your frustration build, you snap at him,“Will you please just stop?”

Your voice is soft, yet cold, not even turning to address him.

The air stills around you as a moment drags by as a small twinge of guilt teases at your heart.

There’s nothing to feel bad about, you think.

“Alright.”

His voice is hushed, almost sad and you can’t help but feel as if you’ve kicked a puppy.

Goddamn it, you think, why’d it have to be him?

Taking a breath, you shake your head, back still to him.

“I’m just hungry and tired. I’ll cook something.”

“Awesome!”

There it is, that god's awful cheeriness that seems to come so easily to him.

Weariness washes over you, making you sigh as you head to the kitchen, hearing him bouncing along behind you.

The large restaurant style kitchen is a dream, you think as you head to the large walk in cooler to see what you can find to throw together.

Gathering ingredients, you do your best to ignore the man who is now kicking his feet from the tall stool he’s sat on, watching you curiously from the island in the middle of the room.

At least he seems to get that I don’t want to hear his annoying voice, you think as you start cooking.

It was a long way from the big dining hall you’d eaten in at the school.

Your thoughts drift back to all the times you’d longed to be invited into the groups of kids who were talking and laughing with one another; bantering about the rankings, coordinating meetups, discussing classes.

It’s not that you’d necessarily chosen to eat alone, solitary and quiet as you watched on, but it’s also not as if anyone had even made an attempt to-

That’s not true, a small part of your brain reminds you.

The twinkling eyes of the man watching you cook just brings back all the frustration you felt as you recall that very look from across the dining hall.

He was always smiling, laughing, bright and bubbly.

Uncaring.

Must be nice to not have to work for anything, to not have to prove yourself…

Old resentment churns in your gut, as you try to put it all out of your head.

It doesn't matter now, and you’re stuck here with him no matter how you feel.

The least you could do was attempt to coexist.

He finally breaks the silence between you, his voice heard easily over the noises of the pan on the stove.

“You don’t talk much.” he observes, “I was always curious about that. At the academy students used to say you don’t like people, but I always thought-” he rambles, as you tap the metal spatula, clanking it loudly against the pan,, clearing your throat, you feel your old instinct to run away creep in.

“You always thought what?” You ask softly, your shoulders tense as you wait for him to say the worries in your mind.

He pauses before continuing, slowing down and seeming a bit more subdued by your sudden gesture.

“...that you just really liked to study and focus.”

Blinking at the odd words you hadn’t expected to hear, you finally glance over your shoulder at the man staring back at you.

His big dopey grin only confuses you more, as it always has, as you release a soft breath.

He didn’t say the words in your head, the words you always heard whispered amidst your “peers” at the academy.

“Why doesn’t she speak to anyone?”

“I heard her gift was strange, I’m surprised she got in here…”

“I’ve never even heard of her family.”

“Family? I heard she’s an orphan, she doesn’t even have a surname-”

They didn’t even have the decency to laugh at you or giggle at your expense as they said these things.

It was the horrible pity behind those condescending eyes, the whispers of doubt as they seemed to avoid you.

Well…all but the strange man currently tilting his head at you.

“I did. I still do.” You tell him, unable to break his gaze as he beams at you.

Shaking off his weird conversation and unwelcome memories, you turn back to check the food.

“Ah, well that’s good! I mean, I don’t know how you don’t lose your mind after hours of that, but if you like it…” He shrugs.

“It’s my task, as you know.” You state simply, turning back to the food, then grabbing some plates to serve it to him, then your own.

“Of course. I just figured…we could get to know one another more” he says, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

“Ask anything you want about my work here, I’m happy to answer.” you tell him, taking a seat, making sure there’s one between you.

His hopeful smile falters as he slowly nods, turning to eat his meal.

“Ah…well…okay, we can talk about work,” he says.

Shaking your head, you dig into your own meal, not understanding why he’s going so far, even here, to pity you.

You just didn’t know how to tell him he didn’t have to bother.

You both eat your meal, mostly in silence, not quite sure what he wants from you.

Things have been quiet in the common area and you can’t help but find it almost stifling.

Who knew you’d end up craving a break to the monotony, when usually you relish in it?

Despite your resistance to his attempts to get to know you, you find yourself searching Baekhyun out as you glance up from your vial.

More and more as time passes, you find your gaze straying from whatever it was you were doing to seek him out.

It was just curiosity, seeing as he’s the only one around.

It definitely isn’t interest in him, as much as the distracting man tries to get to know you.

You’ve been employing some of the chemistry from your transmutation book for a few hours now, but you can’t seem to focus enough to get it right.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, you try to stop yourself from wondering what he’s doing.

Maybe I’ll go check my plants, you think, gently placing the glass vessel back in its rack.

You stand and make your way down the long hallway, idly pondering what lies behind some of the locked doors.

As you brush your fingers across each door frame, you can feel the shimmering tension of strong magic protecting the secrets within.

Suppressing a shiver, you finally reach the glass doors that lead into the underground garden where the herbs grow.

A smile already plays across your lips as you slip inside, breathing in the fragrance of the thriving plants.

How they did so well down here was a mystery-

Your thoughts are cut off as you hear the familiar soft melody of singing, eyes immediately seeking the only other being that resides here.

A gentle white light illuminates an area off to the right, down a pathway overhung with branches from the trees.

Furrowing your brow, you slowly approach the crouched figure of Baekhyun.

White light glows from his outstretched hands as he seems to almost caress the plants growing in front of him.

Your breath catches as you watch the tiny sprouts react, seeming to almost lean towards his open palms, stretching to bask in the light.

Taking in a rare moment to observe, you can’t help but admire the way his dark hair falls over his brow, the muscles in his broad shoulders flexing as he gently sings to the growth.

Without even looking at you, his song trails off and he speaks softly.

“This particular patch was infected with a blight,” he informs you, “I’ll likely change the setup a bit so they aren’t getting affected by the fungi nearby…”

Blinking yourself out of the little trance his voice has put you in, you just swallow and nod, feeling silly as it’s not like he can see you.

“Okay,” you whisper, finding yourself drawn forward to crouch beside him and watch the process.

Within the academy, it was forbidden to share any personal powers amongst your fellow students; it was ingrained in you from the start that the most important thing was keeping your posts safe.

That included never knowing what others were capable of, until you were placed.

You had wondered why you weren’t told who your partner was, and weren’t informed about his powers.

Everything is a test, you think wryly, sighing.

As always, it was for you to find out on your own, as he was likely not informed about yours.

“How…?” You ask him, still whispering as if speaking in any tone louder than a whisper will break the spell he seems to be holding over the plants.

Your eyes are locked on him as he finally looks away from his work, his eyes caramel in the glow of his magic as they meet yours.

A gentle smile plays on his lips, and he studies your face for a moment before responding.

“Photosynthesis...it’s a lucky side effect of my gift.”

“I had no idea that you were the reason they were thriving.” You feel the strange warmth of something in the pit of your stomach as you watch him return to tending the fragile herbs.

Minutes tick by, and what should feel awkward as you watch him only feels calming and comfortable.

You’re unsure how much you like this unexpected feeling.

The oppressive darkness cradling you in its grasp is suddenly broken by a sliver of white, cutting through the comforting cloud.

Groggily, you open your eyes to see a shadowy figure in your now open doorway.

Before reacting on impulse, you take stock of everything around you like you were trained.

You are lying in your bed, deep within the vault.

Counting the beats of your heart, calming your breathing, you watch as the figure slowly steps forward.

“Baekhyun?” You whisper softly, hoping desperately that it’s the only other person that resides here with you.

The figure doesn’t utter a word, but a soft white glow begins to emit from his palms, then almost forms a soft aura around him as he slowly approaches your bed.

Sitting up, you furrow your brow in confusion.

Certainly, something has happened, he wouldn’t come into your room otherwise.

“Say it again.” he hums, finally reaching your bed.

Yet instead of stopping and waiting for a response, he’s climbing onto the mattress with you, one knee at a time as he slowly crawls his way up to you.

“What-say what…Baekhyun, what are you-?” you manage, before his lips are on yours.

He takes advantage of your open mouth when you gasp in surprise, his tongue searching for yours.

The fugitive muscle ignores the logic of your mind as it meets his eagerly, as do your arms as they wrap around his neck.

A soft whimper leaves your throat as the man pushes you back onto the bed, dragging the covers off of you before settling his weight between your wantonly parted legs.

“Shh…” he hums as he breaks the kiss, his lips skimming along your jawbone to nip over to your ear, “I can’t stop myself, I want you…”

Warmth pools between your legs as you feel the stiff bulge grind against your core.

“Baekhyun-” you whine out as he tears at the flimsy nightgown, his hands kneading and grasping your breasts, your sides, touching everywhere as the tiny buttons give or fly off to gods knows where.

“Yes, my name…keep saying it…” his voice has dropped to a lower tone, his heavy breathing causing your hips to lift.

Mind swirling with desire, you can’t help the way your body reacts to his touch.

As much as the academy prepared you for, this was not one of the things you had ever expected to encounter.

You didn’t have the will to stop him.

This was exactly what you wanted.

The realization has your eyes flying open, looking down at the handsome man as he parts your gown, exposing your naked body to him.

Even his eyes seem to glow with that heavenly light as he looks up at you, letting his gaze rake slowly down your body.

“I may not be able to get you to talk to me, so I’ll make you scream instead…” He rasps out, then your legs are over his shoulders as he slips his hands under your ass, lifting your cunt to his face like you’re his feast.

Whatever words you could have responded with are lost as his lips wrap around your sensitive clit, tongue flicking gently in a circle as he stares up at you.

The glow surrounding him allows you a full view of what he’s doing and it causes your eyes to roll back in your head.

Reaching down to grasp tendrils of his hair, you use your other hand to grab at the pillow under your head; unable to stop your hips from bucking up towards him, and encouraging his wicked mouth.

Shadows flicker along the edges of his light as you feel the need to touch him, to return the same pleasure but he only doubles down, burying his face into you.

His tongue slips down to tease at your entrance as his nose nudges your delicate bud, and you should feel shame at the pooling moisture he’s gathering and swallowing up.

Yet his eyes are brazen, silently pleading with you to let go and scream for him.

So you do.

Your thighs tighten around his head and his eyes blaze with heat like you’ve never seen, white hot and burning as he moans into you.

It doesn’t take much to make you lose complete control.

Just one finger replacing his tongue, his teeth nipping gently at your throbbing clit before he’s sucking and licking you into insanity.

Thrusting deep within you, his impossibly long finger curls and you’re crying his name for all the slumbering creatures beneath the earth to hear.

Hips lifting, thrusting into his face, his palm cups your ass as he helps you ride your way through your orgasm.

“Baekhyun, fuck I-”

His glowing eyes flicker, your head swimming as confusion overcomes you.

“Hey…hey-” you hear, and startled, you feel yourself gasping for air as you sit up.

“Hey, you were screaming for me? Is everything okay?”

Blinking, looking around, you realize that you're still in your bed.

But looking down, your nightgown is still intact, buttons perfectly placed.

Covers are drawn over you, and Baekhyun hovers near the door, looking confused and concerned.

“Was it a nightmare?” He asks tentatively.

Trying to calm yourself, you merely nod, taking in a deep breath.

“Yeah…” you answer, covering your face with your hand at the memory…and the soaked panties you’re currently concealing beneath the blanket.

“Yeah…nightmare…I’m fine.” you tell him hollowly, and he just nods, pausing a moment before he’s turning to close the door behind him.

“Fuck…” you say, flopping back on your pillow, cheeks heating with the memory of the “nightmare.”

What the fuck is wrong with you?

The following days, you swear Baekhyun senses something is off.

What the hell possessed you to dream of him in that way?

Why the fuck are you upset, it was only a dream??

You find yourself going over the same line for the 15th time, still unable to comprehend it and you just lean back in your chair to run your hand over your face.

Before, you’d have heard something from Baekhyun like, “Is something wrong?” or “Is everything okay?”

But now…

You glance over, catching him looking away right as you do, going back to whatever it was he was documenting.

He’s been especially withdrawn, not his usual exuberant self since the garden…since the night you woke up screaming his name.

Feeling the heat travel up your neck at the thought, you clear your throat and rub the spot as if that will help it disappear.

Who knew you’d be missing his normal annoying banter.

“I can’t focus…I…maybe I should eat…” you say out loud, eyes darting to him as he sits in his little alcove.

His eyes meet yours, seeming to search for something, but you have no idea what.

“Come if you want...I’ll likely make more than I can manage anyhow.” You toss out, turning to walk towards the kitchens.

Not sure why, but your heart sinks as silence meets you, but then seems to bob right back as you hear his feet hit the tiles and he slowly follows behind you.

It’s just a meal, you think, chastising yourself as you go about pulling out ingredients.

You can feel his eyes on you as you set about preparing your meal, and you glance over to study him.

“I’m sorry again about waking you the other evening.” You say, flinching at how your voice shakes.

He merely shrugs, settling his elbow on the counter and placing his hand on his palm as he studies you.

“Nothing to be sorry about. It happens.”

Frowning, you just turn back around to pay attention to the food and not burn anything.

“When we were at the academy, you used to do this late at night.” He finally breaks the silence.

Turning to give him an odd look, you try to think about all the late nights you ended up in the kitchens there.

“How…how do you know that?” You ask him softly, swallowing at how his cheeks redden and his gaze drops, suddenly finding the counter interesting.

“I used to have nightmares too…sometimes I still do.” He whispers, fingernail tracing the patterns in the glossy marble.

“Occasionally, I would wander to clear my mind. One night…I came across you in the kitchen cooking and humming.”

A smile teases at his lips, his eyes unfocused as if remembering, “I got curious and looked inside to see who was up so late. I’d…never seen you smile before. No matter how many times I tried to talk to you…but that night…” he shrugs again, his eyes flicking up to meet yours before looking away again.

Raising an eyebrow, you can only wait for him to continue, oddly fascinated to be told he’d been spying on you.

It doesn’t feel invasive like it should, no…it just has you wondering what he thought, what he saw…what he felt.

“I smiled?” You ask him gently, encouraging him.

He looks up at you, eyes flicking back and forth as they study you, his corners of his lips lifting slowly.

“Yes…you were beau-” he starts, but then his eyes widen, standing abruptly as he points behind you.

“Oh shit!” you exclaim, turning as you finally register the smoke pouring from the dry, burning food in the pan.

“Hold on, don’t panic-” he says, yet before his words get through to you, you’re grabbing the metal handle with your bare hand.

The clatter of the pan hitting the burner echoes through the room as you gasp, your hand throbbing with searing pain.

“Oh god, fuck, I’m stupid-”

“Wait, don’t move.” He hums, calmly turning off the burner before turning to grasp your wounded hand.

“It’s so fucking cliche, burning my hand, I’m an idiot-” you find yourself rambling.

“Shh…” he whispers, turning your palm up in his hands, studying the long angry burn on your skin.

Swallowing heavily, you can only nod, heart beating quickly at his proximity, at his gentle touch as he leans down to softly blow on your injury.

The soft glow that surrounds both of your hands is warm, then cool as you feel relief.

Startled, you watch the welt that was forming slowly fade until only unblemished skin remains.

“You…you can heal?” You ask him, stunned into stuttering your words.

His eyes are still on your palm, his thumb gently tracing the memory of the now healed burn before he nods.

“Please be more careful.” He asks, glancing up at you as his fingers linger on your skin.

Blushing, you just nod back at him, your brain racing with confusion.

“How cliche of me, grabbing a pan without a mitt, of course I’d do something like that. I don’t normally burn food, you know. Now I’m going to have to-” you rant, pulling your hand from his as you attempt to turn around and clean up the now ruined food.

“You are beautiful when you smile. I wish I could see it more.” He blurts out, freezing you in your tracks.

Eyes wide, you turn slowly to stare at him in disbelief.

It’s his turn to go beet red, fumbling for his own words as he seems to realize he said that out loud.

“I mean, you’re beautiful anyhow but I like when you seem happy…fuck…I just don’t want you to hate me like you do and I don’t know how to make you more comfortable…”

Dumbfounded at the outpouring of confusing words, you can’t manage to get a syllable out before he’s rushing from the room.

“I’m not hungry, I’m fine, I’ve got things to do-” the door swings shut before he finishes, leaving you standing dazed and staring off after him.

You’re not sure what is going on here, but things just got that much more confusing.

#ksmutsociety #lapydiariesnet #thevelvetvault #byun baekhyun #Baekhyun smut #Exo Baekhyun smut #Baekhyun fanfic #Dark Academia fic

64 notes · View notes