#beomgyu romance

[seoulzie]

through thick & thin

WHEREIN: beomgyu & reader discover their unspoken love ultimately realizing they have always been each other's true love.

彡 pairing: beomgyu x reader 彡 genre: fluff, lil angst 彡 warnings: jealous gyu & p1h's jiung makes a cameo ㅋㅋ

₊˚ ✩ 🌊 read the whole collection here!

you and beomgyu were practically born into each other's lives. your parents were best friends, and as a result, the two of you were more like siblings than mere friends. from your first steps to your first words, beomgyu was always there, his presence as natural as breathing.

beomgyu’s house was practically a second home to you, and vice versa. childhood was a whirlwind of shared toys, impromptu sleepovers, and adventures in your backyards.

in elementary school, your bond became a spectacle for teachers and students alike. beomgyu would leave his pencils at your table after breaks, and you would often forget your toys at his. you were inseparable. teachers would find you leaning on each other during nap times, sharing snacks at recess, and laughing the loudest in class.

high school brought subtle changes. the awkwardness of puberty and the chaos of teenage years couldn’t shake your bond. you still spent countless hours on the phone, your conversations flowing seamlessly into the night until one of them fell asleep mid-sentence. on weekends, you visited your childhood playgrounds even if that means you’re the oldest ones there, reliving memories and swinging on the old swings that now seemed smaller. 

one rainy afternoon, you found yourselves in beomgyu’s attic, rummaging through boxes of childhood memorabilia. you unearthed a dusty board game you used to play.

“remember how competitive we used to get?” you laughed, brushing off the dust.

beomgyu grinned. “used to? i’m still the reigning champion.”

you rolled her eyes playfully. “oh, please. the only reason you ever won was because you cheated.”

“cheated?!” beomgyu scoffed, feigning offense. “i won fair and square. you were just a sore loser.”

you smirked, leaning closer. “how about a rematch then? i bet you can’t handle my skills now.”

beomgyu chuckled, his spirit igniting. “you’re on. prepare to lose.”

you set up the game on the attic floor, the rain tapping a gentle rhythm on the roof. the game started with playful banter and exaggerated expressions of concentration.

“are you sure you want to move there?” beomgyu asked, his eyes narrowing.

“absolutely,” you replied confidently. “it’s called strategy, something you might want to learn.”

beomgyu laughed, shaking his head. “we’ll see about that.”

the game ended in a tie as you collapsed onto the floor, laughing until your stomachs hurt

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as you were walking down the bustling hallway of your high school, you casually mentioned something that made beomgyu's heart stop.

“can you believe jiung asked me out? i didn’t see that one coming,” you said, your voice light and amused.

beomgyu stopped in his tracks, a frown tugging at his lips. “jiung’s a prat. you can do better than him; i’m really questioning your taste here.”

you rolled your eyes and nudged him playfully. “oh, come on. he’s not that bad. i said yes already.”

“you can—what?” beomgyu's eyes widened in shock, his mind reeling. “you actually said yes to going out with him?”

you shrugged, a hint of mischief dancing in your eyes. “yeah, i did. how come you’re so surprised?”

beomgyu struggled to find the right words, his emotions bubbling just beneath the surface. “i just... i don’t get it. you could do so much better than him.”

you chuckled, teasingly. “what? someone better like you?”

beomgyu felt his heart skip a beat at your words, a rush of hope flooding through him. but he quickly played it aside with a nervous laugh. “oh, come on, you. you know what i mean.”

you raised an eyebrow, your teasing demeanor softening. “do i?”

beomgyu’s heart ached at your words, but he forced himself to smile, the expression not reaching his eyes. “whatever, it’s nothing. i’ve got to get to my next class.”

before you could respond, beomgyu turned on his heel and walked away, his thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and pain. 

the tension between beomgyu and you in the following days was palpable, each interaction tinged with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. you tried to give beomgyu space, but every passing moment felt like an eternity.

you saw him in the hallways, your eyes meeting briefly before he looked away. he responded politely when you greeted him, but there was a distance in his voice that echoed, it hurt to see him like this, to know that something had shifted between you and you didn't know why.

in those days, you gradually got closer to jiung, finding comfort in his company as you bonded, his easy-going nature and infectious laughter were a welcome distraction from the growing tension with beomgyu. 

however, despite enjoying your time, everything he did almost reminded you of beomgyu. his laugh, his smile, even the way he listened with genuine interest all brought beomgyu to mind. though you were with jiung physically, your mind constantly drifted back to beomgyu, the ache in your heart growing with each passing day.

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it was a cool evening, the playground bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights. you walked slowly, lost in thought after your date with jiung. passing by the playground was a shortcut to your house, a place that held countless memories with beomgyu.

as you approached, you noticed a figure sitting on one of the swings, head bowed, lost in contemplation. it was beomgyu, his silhouette familiar yet different in the dim light. you hesitated for a moment, debating whether to approach him or continue on your way.

beomgyu sensed your presence and looked up, surprise flickering across his face before he quickly masked it with a forced smile. “hey,” he greeted softly, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy.

you stopped in front of him, your expression cautious. “hey. what are you doing here?”

beomgyu shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “just thinking.”

you stood in silence for a moment, the rustling leaves and distant sounds of the city filling the space between you. you took a deep breath, about to address the tension that had been building,

"we need to talk," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you.

beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "i know."

you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever was about to come. "beomgyu, why have you been avoiding me?"

beomgyu shifted on the swing, his gaze fixed on the ground as he struggled to find the right words. "it's... it's nothing about you," he began, his voice slightly strained. "i'm fine, really."

you frowned, not buying his attempt to brush it off. "beomgyu, you've barely talked to me in days. we used to talk about everything. what do you mean it's nothing?"

beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "i guess... i guess i just needed some time to sort things out in my head," he admitted reluctantly. 

you waited, sensing there was more he wasn't saying. the silence stretched between them until beomgyu finally spoke again, his voice hesitant. "seeing you with him... it's been difficult for me."

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "difficult how?" you asked, your tone cautious.

beomgyu looked up, meeting your gaze with a mix of regret and longing. "i... i don't like seeing you with someone else," he confessed quietly. "especially when it's someone like jiung."

you's eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed slightly in frustration. "what do you mean, 'someone like jiung?" you asked, your voice tinged with irritation.

beomgyu's expression darkened, and he couldn't hold back anymore. "i hate how he has everything i have, yet you choose him," he spat out, his voice seething with jealousy.

you shook your head, frustration bubbling up inside you. “why does it even matter to you? you’re not dating me!”

“you think i don’t know that?” beomgyu shot back, his voice rising slightly. 

“so then, whats your problem!?” 

beomgyu gathered his thoughts, “my problem is that i’m in love with you!” he blurted out, his voice cracking with emotion. 

“but I’m a coward, and you’re oblivious,” beomgyu continued, “watching you go out with jiung made me realize that i’d be spending the rest of my life watching you date, marry, and have a family with someone else. it tore me apart inside, knowing that i was losing you without ever really having the chance to tell you how i feel.”

beomgyu’s voice wavered, the pain and desperation clear in his words. “i can’t keep pretending that i’m okay with just being your friend when i want so much more. i want to be the one who makes you laugh, who holds you when you cry, who shares every moment of your life. but i’m terrified that if i tell you the truth, i’ll lose you completely.”

for a moment, you stood there, absorbing his words, your heart pounding in your chest. the air was thick with unspoken emotions, and you could feel the weight of his confession pressing down on you. without saying a word, you stepped closer to him, your eyes locked onto his. slowly, you reached up and cupped his face in your hands, your touch gentle and reassuring.

then, before either of you could second-guess the moment, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. the kiss was soft and tentative at first, a question more than a statement, but it quickly deepened as beomgyu responded, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect, timeless moment.

when you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing heavily. beomgyu’s eyes were wide with surprise and a glimmer of hope.

"beomgyu..." you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "i think I’ve always known too," you admitted softly. "i just didn’t know how to say it."

you smiled through your tears. "it’s always been you, beomgyu."

the realization hit beomgyu, and his face lit up with pure joy. he pulled you into another kiss, this one filled with passion and relief. as the kiss broke, he couldn't contain his excitement and spun you around, just like in the movies. you both laughed, the tension and heartache melting away, replaced by the warmth of newfound love.

in that moment, everything felt right.the playground, once a place of childhood memories, had now become the backdrop for the beginning of your love story.

⋆˚࿔ taglist!  @flowzel , @izzyy-stuff , @inkigayocamman , @vicurious28

© 2024 seoulzie 

[byeomtori]

the only exception | beomgyu x reader

pairing: beomgyu x female reader

content: love at first sight au, summer love thingy, lots of reference to paramore's the only exception and txt's our summer, pda

tw: mentions of fight and blood

words count: 12k

notes: reposting because of high demand (lol)

preview:

you were not the type to believe in the existence of love. to you, there was no such a thing as true love; no such a thing as unwavering, unbreakable, and unparalleled fondness and devotion for someone. to you, people love to get something they desire in return — money, power, status, pride. your parents were a living prove of that

the day you were old enough to understand the lack of love and affection between your parents to each other, and to you; you swore to never grow that feeling to anyone — family, friends, partner. anyone. because to you, love did not exist.

you were content living that way for years, not happy, but content.

the absence of love in your life protected you from attachment, heartbreak, sorrow — those negative emotions that you deemed unnecessary and unworthy to be sitting inside of you.

life was okay without love, you thought.

until you had to spend the rest of your summer with a distant relative whom you've never met in your entire life, in a small town with an ocean view, where fate had brought you a boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky.

and maybe, just maybe, love does exist.

a comforting smell of freshly brewed chamomile tea wafting in the air as you make your way inside the unfamiliar home — the one you will be spending three months in because your parents are way too busy flying around across the globe to be taking care of you.

"come on in, y/n." the woman in front of you speaks, her voice soft, the type of voice a kindergarten teacher would have.

maybe she was one, you have no idea. in fact, you know nothing about the woman standing in a yellow dress in front of you. she is pretty, even though it is evident her aging is slowly creeping up to her from the way her skin wrinkles on the corner of her eyes when she smiles. but to you, she is pretty- the mother-like kind of pretty. the kind of pretty that makes you feel warm inside.

but again, you know nothing about her. have never seen her in your entire life. never even heard her name from any of your parents until today.

aunty sue.

that was the name your mom had told you in the car this morning when she was dropping you off at the train station, she couldn't even make some time to drive you straight here, and telling you the woman is a distant cousin of hers whom she hasn't met in a long time. and that was also the name the said woman had introduced herself to you.

"do you want some tea, honey? or anything else?" she asks, making her way into the kitchen as you trail behind her like a little lost puppy.

"tea is fine," you reply.

leaning against the kitchen counter, you roam your eyes around the room. some parts of the walls are painted in pastel green while another part is decorated with a plaid wallpaper with the same color — just a shade darker. the counter tops are full of kitchen appliances, cookbooks, sunflower patterned dishes, and freshly washed vegetables along with some other things. there are random little trinkets on the windowsill — a wooden carved statue of a cat, a line of herbs in old tomato cans, and a sun catcher being hung at the corner of the window making tiny little rainbows refracting inside the kitchen.

the furniture of the dining area does not match with each other — one wooden chair with a striking blue cushion, a yellow wicker chair and another two plastic chairs in white. though everything is mismatch, it doesn't look weird. it feels right, even.

it feels like home.

very different from your house where nothing is ever out of place. the countertops made of slick white marble, picked personally by your mother, are always shiny as if no one has ever touched it. truthfully speaking, they kind of are. no one is ever cooking in that kitchen. you bet the only stains that has dirtied that counter was that one time you spilled your morning coffee on it. the stove, it looks brand new compared to the one in front of you right now which looks like it has been in service for more than a decade with how rusty it looks.

everything in your house is perfect to the tee. a façade that is what you like to think — to mask the family's imperfections.

a house that never felt like a home.

"i'm going to keep my stuff in my room first, i'll be right back," you say as you pull your luggage with you.

"sure, honey. your room is the second door on the right."

honey.

not even your own mother has ever called you that.

you haul your bag with much difficulty up the stairs, cursing yourself mentally for overpacking, before making your way to the said door. the room is spacious, not as big as your own room back in the city, but still enough to fit a queen-sized bed in the middle, a study desk by the window and a two doors wardrobe in the corner.

the glass sliding doors that lead to the balcony are being left slightly open, the warm summer breeze blowing the white sheer curtain. leaving your luggage by the bed, you make your way over to the balcony — pushing open the sliding door wider as you step out into the outdoor.

to say you are astonished is an understatement. the view in front of you is breath-taking — the house is located on top of the hill, overlooking the neighborhood and the ocean, the season's bright sunlight is making the scenery even more spectacular.

you breath in the air, inhaling the smell of the blue sea with your eyes closed.

there is someone, other than aunty sue, downstairs — you can clearly hear the sound of a male voice which is a little bit too loud to be ignored, talking to the woman in the kitchen about how his mom had forced him to deliver cake to all the houses up the hill in the middle of the day.

"y/n, honey! are you done? come downstairs, please." opening your eyes, you let out a soft sigh as you walk back inside, keeping your eyes on the ocean outside as you close the glass doors.

it's okay, you have the whole three months here. you tell yourself as you make your way back into the kitchen, the guest is still going on about how his little rant.

"i mean, don't get me wrong. i love summer, but to deliver all of them under the sun? god i felt like-.." and as he turns to face you who is standing at the entrance of the kitchen, your breath hitch in your throat.

you're not sure is it the iridescent illumination from the sun catcher beaming on him, or the glow of his skin that is glistening with sweats from biking under the summer rays, or the sparks in his eyes as he stares at you;

but oh god, he is beautiful.

not pretty, but beautiful. the angel-like kind of beautiful. the kind of beautiful that would make people turn their heads. the kind of beautiful that would make you steal glances at him if you were to sit in front of him in a train. the kind of beautiful that makes the ocean view you saw earlier lose its' price.

the once in a lifetime kind of beautiful.

"y/n, this is beomgyu, his mom owns a bakery down the hill."

"oh, this is the girl that you've been telling me about!" he says excitedly as he makes his way over to you, "she's pretty."

and you almost choked on your saliva. how can he be saying things like that so casually?!

"hi, i'm choi beomgyu," he says, extending out his hand for a handshake. "aunty sue told me a lot about you so i'm kind of excited to be your friend, that is if you want, of course."

you look down to his hand, lifting your own as you slowly put it in his. "im y/n,"

though it feels rough, his hand still holds a certain kind of warmth that makes you feel secured. you can feel calluses on his fingertips, too. does he play the guitar?

you're not even sure why you feel bashful under his gaze. you don't understand the warm fuzzy feeling you're getting when he keeps his hand in yours. you don't get why your heart is beating so fast when he says your name, the syllabus rolling perfectly on his tongue like it was made for him and only him to say.

"well then, i look forward to hanging out with you, y/n."

the conscious side of your brain is already blaring an alarm, telling you to turn him down, telling you that no, you don't want to hang out with him. that no, you don't look forward to spending your summer with him.

but despite that, you find yourself nodding to his words. "me too, choi beomgyu."

it has been three days since you have first arrived, and you have concluded that choi beomgyu is a man of his words.

you didn't think much when he told you that he looks forward to hanging out with you, thinking that he was just being nice to a newcomer and to act friendly to you.

because that's all you have ever known — people acting nicely to you.

you remember when you used to associate in a group of girls back in middle school; it was one of the worst times of your life. eleven years old you were so naïve (read: stupid) to realize that those girls were just using you for your unlimited amount of cash — always inviting you to go shopping, forcing you to throw fancy sleepovers — until one day one of them literally had to scream in your face that they were only hanging out with you for your daddy's money.

and since then, you have never tried to befriend anyone and those around you never approached or asked you to hang out, either.

so, it is a surprise to you that choi beomgyu stays true to his words.

yesterday, he had come over early in the morning looking as beautiful as you had remembered the first time you saw him; asking you if you want a little tour of the small town. you had declined, telling him you still had a few things left to unpack, leaving the boy pouting. you had felt slightly bad, just slightly.

you are in the backyard with aunty sue, picking up some ripe tomatoes from the small garden. she told you she has been tending this small part of her backyard for almost seven years now, planting

various kinds of vegetables, using the excuse of she doesn’t like the ones sold in the market, when in reality she just really loves gardening and watching her plants come to live day by day.

“is the tomato that interesting to you?”

you jump in surprise as you hear a low voice speaking next to your ear. turning around, you find a grinning beomgyu looking down at you. he peeks under your straw hat, trying to have a better look at

your face. “you look like a tomato yourself.”

you frown, “what do you mean by that?!”

he bends, hands resting on his knees, now being eye to eye level with you. humming, he continues to study your face.

there is always something about him that never fails to make blood rush to your face. yesterday it was the way he dressed — white sleeveless top tucked messily inside his black jeans. it was simple, nothing outstanding about it but to you, he was breath-taking. and today; it’s the way he’s looking deep into your eyes, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks with every blink.

the rational part of you is telling you to push him aside or to move away, to break the eye contact. but the other part that you have no idea existed inside of you until you met him few days ago, is telling you to keep staring into his sparkling eyes, to play along to whatever little game he has put on.

the rational part of you won as you take a step back, creating a safe distance between your figure and his. you can feel your cheeks flushed, fully blaming it on the warm temperature as you had been

standing under the sun for quite a while now.

“your cheeks are so red, like a tomato.” he giggles, “are you hot?”

you look away from him, hiding your face under your hat as you whisper, “k-kinda…”

he was about to move closer to you again, hand reaching over to your hat, but it stops mid-air when aunty sue is calling over for the both of you. thanking the lord and savior, you quickly make an escape

from him as you walk over to where your aunty is standing with a plate full of freshly cut watermelon in hand.

you sit beside her on the porch, while beomgyu is standing right in front of you. “tell your mom i say thank you for the watermelon,” aunty sue says and the boy just hums, hand reaching down to pick up two pieces of the sliced fruit, handing one over to you.

you thank him quietly and he smiles down at you, “you will never find a watermelon as sweet and juicy as the ones that my grandfather planted.” he boasts, and aunty sue make a sound as what sounds

like she is agreeing with him. “that’s right, mr.choi planted the best watermelon in the country.”

the scorching heat of the sun calls for you to take a bite of the fruit – it is sweet, just like what beomgyu had said. “it’s so good,” you speak under your breath. you’re not sure how he manages to hear what

you said but he did, as the smile on his face grow wider. “right? i told you!”

he waits for you to finish the slice in your hand before handing you another one, all the while still towering in front of you.

“sit down, beomgyu.” your aunty says to him to which the boy just shakes his head. “i’m protecting y/n from the sun,” he replies casually, taking a bite of the watermelon “she looks like a real tomato

right now.”

both you and aunty sue look up to him in sync. he is, indeed, covering you away from the sun — being tall makes it easier for him to shield you away from the direct sunlight of the summer rays but his back

is taking up all the consequences of his action as you can see droplets of sweat forming on of his neck, sliding down to his back.

you glance to aunty sue, a coy smile on her lips. “j-just sit down!” you scold him, pulling him down by his wrist to sit beside you on the wooden veranda.

aunty sue giggles, “talking about tomato, do you want to bring some home, beomgyu?”

he shakes his head, “thanks, aunty sue but no one in that house enjoys eating tomato.”

“but i do want to ask for your permission to steal this cute tomato away from you for the night,” he says as he pokes your cheek with his index finger to which you move slightly away. “my friends are doing a bonfire by the cliff later, i was thinking to bring y/n along.”

you hesitate, gaze moving from his face to your aunty’s. “you can go, y/n. it’s much more fun to hang out with people your age rather than spending time with me,” she ensures you.

you look back to beomgyu, his eyes hopeful as he waits for your answer.

“okay, then.” you finally give in, a wide smile making its’ way across his face.

he stands up, one hand in the pocket of his pants as he bends down to look at your face, again.

“see you tonight then, tomato.”

one conclusion you can come up after spending a good half an hour with choi beomgyu is that he does not have a sense of personal space — not that you mind, at least for now when you are surrounded by unfamiliar teenagers laughing and chattering around the bonfire.

you’ve been stuck to his side since the moment you reached the cliff. it’s not like you are that comfortable with him but out of everyone here, he is the only person you know. despite that, choi beomgyu looks like he is that comfortable with you — hand on the small of your back while walking, wrapping his flannel around your waist so that you won’t get your shorts dirty (when in reality he just doesn’t like the way the other boys are looking at the exposed skin of your legs), sitting too close you can feel his shoulder brushing against yours as he moves.

truthfully, you would have been so annoyed. but this is choi beomgyu. he is choi beomgyu and you have no idea what’s about him that makes you feel so protected. even now when he has his hand on top of your right knee while he’s talking to his friends, you don’t feel irritated.

it feels right. he feels right.

“beomgyu!” someone calls him over from behind. he sighs, “i’m gonna go talk to him for a while, you’ll be alright here, right?” he asks to which you just nod your head.

what is he expecting you to say answer? no, don’t leave me, beomgyu. as if you would ever say that out loud.

the warmth of his palm leaves your skin as he gets up, making his way over to the blue-haired boy that was calling for him. your let your eyes linger on him, watching as he gives the guy a fist bump before

both of their gaze move to you and you quickly look away.

“you’re y/n, right?” a guy who is sitting in front of you speaks.

you nod, “hueningkai, right?” you ask, remembering his name after beomgyu had introduced you to him earlier. and you glad you did from the way his eyes lit up when you get his name right. years of

attending charity events and parties where you were forced to talk to random people by your parents has thought you to imprint people’s names on your mind easily.

“heard you’re from the city. how is the life there? i really want to live there someday, it’s really boring here,” he pouts. “the nearest mall is like, miles away.”

“i think it’s fun here,”

“yeah? and why is that?”

you go quiet for a moment. why is that? — there are various reasons why you think the town is not as boring as hueningkai believes. for an example, the ocean. there is no beach in the city, the nearest one being a whole hour drive away. the air here is cleaner too, not as polluted with vehicles smokes as the city. the weather here is nice too; though it’s summer, the heat here isn’t as bad as it is back

home.

and as your mind try to come up with another reason why you think the town is fun, your eyes move over to the brown-haired boy laughing along to whatever joke the blue-haired one has said to him.

even in the darkness of the night — the only source of light coming from the fire in front of you, he is still beautiful. the way he throws his head back as he laughs, the way his eyes are sparkling under the

night sky, the dimple that appears on his cheek as he smiles.

“it’s fun because there’s beomgyu, right?”

you turn your attention to the boy sitting across from you, his eyes on the same person you were staring few seconds ago.

“do you like him?” hueningkai asks, out of sudden.

“w-what?” you look at him, bewildered. “i don’t know what context of like you are talking about, but he is a good fr-…”

friend.

you so badly wanted to call beomgyu your friend, but you don’t even have the slightest idea of what a friend is — you never had one, at least not a real one. all through your school years, you have never

really had someone you can call as friend. sure, you talked to your classmates, but they felt more like acquaintances than friends. and you never bothered to get close to anyone because you know there

are always something they want in return — money, gifts, invitations to fancy parties, rich kids from your family’s circle to date, the list goes on.

so, you stop yourself from labelling beomgyu in that way. he is not your friend, not after only three days of knowing each other.

“he is a good guy, of course i like him. what kind of person doesn’t like good people?” you say, shifting in your seat to which hueningkai just shrugs his shoulders, “i think he likes yo-…” he stops talking midsentence when someone throws their arm around his neck, holding him in a chokehold.

“taehyun is calling for you,” beomgyu says as he smiles down wickedly at the younger. hueningkai knows his friend is lying but he just rolls his eyes and walks away to where taehyun is sitting.

“let’s go somewhere,” he extends his hand over to you.

“where?”

beomgyu grumbles, “just come.” taking your hand, he pulls you up to your feet.

following him from behind, you have no idea where he is taking you as you both walk further and further away from the group, until you’re climbing down the cliff.

he offers his hand to you, and you gladly accept, “be careful.”

holding your hand in his, he wraps his arm around your waist as he pulls you down to the ground with an ease. the night is pretty chilly compared to the sunlit afternoon earlier, but beomgyu’s hand still

hold a certain kind of warmth. and even though the temperature is low, you still can feel heat rushing up to your face when he keeps his arm around your waist even after you’ve set your feet safely on the

sandy beach — you’re glad it is dark, you don’t think you want him coming up with another vegetable related nickname for you.

“i wanted to bring you here yesterday, but you were busy unpacking. and i wanted to do it today too, but you looked so tired from helping aunty sue,” he says. “i know this is not the best time to be coming

here since it’s so dark but i just thought maybe you would want to see the ocean at night too.”

you move your gaze from his face to the moana in front of you. the water is calm, small waves crashing along the shores. no one else is around, only you and him.

you were about to walk over to the water’s edge when you feel beomgyu tugs on your hand gently. “take off your shoes first, pretty girl.” bending down, he wraps his hand around your ankle before

slowly pulling the white alexander mcqueen off of your foot. beomgyu is surprised, to be honest, to the fact that you casually wear a very expensive pair of sneakers to a lame bonfire party. then again,

these shoes probably didn’t cost that much for you.

“all done, you can go now.” he stands up straight again and he can’t help but notice the pink shade decorating your cheeks even in the inky night, “tomato.” he chuckles, pinching your left cheek.

you gently swat his hand away, blushing deeper, before walking to the water again. you smile as you feel the sand seeps through your toes as the waves crash on the shore. turning around to beomgyu, you see him with a soft smile in his face as he watches you from a distance.

“join me,”

and he can’t seem to decline your offer when you’re looking so ethereal underneath the moonlight, a gentle smile on your lips as you move your feet around to play with the wet sand.

abandoning his cheap pair of sneakers beside your expensive ones, he runs over to where you’re standing back facing him. he pretends to push you further to the ocean to which you react faster, shoving him — making him fall into the water with a big splash.

“hey!” he shrieks, quickly getting up on his feet. you take that as a sign for you to run — in which you didn’t manage to escape far enough when you feel his arms circling around your waist before he pulls you down along with him into the water.

“beomgyu!” you whine while splashing more of the salty water towards him while giggling.

and that night, while you both are walking home, soaked from head to toes with your wet clothes sticking disgustingly on your skin, laughing and giggling, you thought; maybe this is what friendship feels like.

“aunty sue, i’m going out for a while!” you call out your aunt in the kitchen as you’re running down the stairs toward the front door.

she peeks her head from the kitchen’s entrance, “where are you going, honey?”

“beomgyu’s mom’s bakery!” you reply, already stepping outside and you failed to catch the tender smile your aunt is throwing your way as you are busy putting on your shoes. “i’ll be back before dinner.”

when you push open the gate of the house, beomgyu is already waiting for you on his bicycle, a hat in his hand as he offers it over to you. “put it on, it’s too sunny.”

you accept with no question, putting the white hat on. it smells like him — like a mixture of frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, and bergamot waters. it smells like summer.

he smells like summer.

beomgyu watches as you put his hat on, holding back his smile to how adorable you look trying to tighten the hat’s straps to fit your head’s size. his hand reaches over to your face, tucking a few strands

of your hair that have come loose from your braids behind your ear. “pretty,” he whispers under his breath.

you look away from his eyes, quickly moving to sit on the backseat of his bicycle, wincing as the exposed skin of your thighs come in contact with the burning metal of the seat.

“sorry, chieko has been out in the sun for a while,” he says, referring to his bike. “you good?”

“yeah,” you shift on the seat, trying to find a comfortable position. “you name your bicycle with a dog’s name?”

he hums as he starts paddling, “my grandfather got this bicycle from a japanese owned shop. the owner used to have this really cute golden retriever by the name chieko, i loved him, hence the name.”

he explains, “is it weird?”

“kinda,” you reply to which he just laugh it off.

it has only been a week of summer break and beomgyu had come up with so many plans for the both of you. he has promised to make this, as quoted from the man himself, the best summer of your life

— to which you just responded with a raised eyebrow. you don’t mind spending the whole three months of break with him, you don’t mind at all. in fact, you would really like the idea — but he doesn’t

have to know that.

one of the plans he had come up with is; baking. and that is how you find yourself in the back of his mom’s bakery, with a baby pink apron tied around your waist and beomgyu going around in the

kitchen looking for the ingredients for the fruit strudels he had promise to make with you.

“oh, you must be y/n.”

you turn to the source of the voice, and you quickly bow your head, “ah, yeah. nice to meet you.” the woman in front of you have the same dimple as the one on beomgyu’s, and the way she smiles warmly remind you of her son too.

“you’re really pretty, just like what beomgyu had told me.”

“mom, where’s the peach?” he asks, stopping his mom from exposing him further, as he is rummaging inside the fruit basket on the counter.

the woman giggles, “is our beomgyu shy? is he embarrassed if his mom is going to tell the pretty girl all about the things he had talked about her?” she continues, emphasizing on the pretty girl.

you look over to him and notice how his ears has turned slightly red from his mom’s teasing. you’re not sure why he is acting that way when he has called you with that specific nickname so many times

already.

“mom~” he whines, all the while avoiding your eyes that are fixated on him.

his mom lets out a loud laugh — now you know where beomgyu got that from — as she walks over to the fridge behind you. “i keep them in the here, baby.”

“oh,” he says, taking the peaches from his mom’s hand. “thank you, my lady.” he leans down and kiss his mom’s temple to which his mom playfully pushes him away. the gesture tugs a string in your heart

— a feeling of longing. you can’t remember when was the last time you hugged your mom, or your dad. heck, you can’t even remember when was the last time they asked you about your day.

“have fun baking, y/n. i’m only a shout away if you need something, okay? in case beomgyu burns the kitchen down,” she jokes again before walking out to store again.

beomgyu sighs, “sorry about her. she can be a bit… overbearing sometimes.”

“no, she’s fun.” you says, stepping closer to help him with the fresh fruits.

and that’s how you spent your thursday morning; baking various fruits strudels — peach, strawberry, mango, blueberry. well, it was beomgyu who did most of the work but nevertheless, you had fun

cutting up the fresh fruits.

the oven digs, indicating the pastries have been baked. beomgyu pulls the tray out, before setting it on the flour-covered counter. “oh, it smells amazing!” you exclaim excitedly.

“wait until you taste them, they are,” he looks down at you, making a chef’s kiss gesture to which you just giggle. “well, we have to let them cool down first before putting the cream and the fruits. wanna

go up to my room while we wait?”

you hesitate, never ever in your life have you ever stepped a foot in a boy’s room. despite that, you find yourself nodding to him, “sure.”

he nods, taking off his apron and waits for you to take yours off before snatching it from your hands, hanging them on the hook by the fridge.

following him up to his room which is located at the second floor just right above the bakery, you notice the picture frames decorating the wall going up the stairs. family portraits, baby pictures of

whom you assume are beomgyu and his brother, wedding pictures of his parents, a picture of beomgyu’s kindergarten graduation. it’s like the family’s own little hall of fame.

imagining your house in your mind, you don’t think you have any other picture being hung on the wall aside from that one huge family portrait in the living room — the one where you were looking so rigid

sitting in between your parents. you hated that picture, and you still do. family portraits are supposed to be a symbol of happiness, a symbol of affection, a symbol of a healthy family relationship but your family does not have any of that. the picture that was taken in the fancy film studio in france was just another attempt to cover the family’s despair. it’s pathetic, really. how hard your parents are trying

to come off as a happy married couple with a perfect daughter. throwing the money away for material things that can cover up the lack of happiness in the household. it’s pitiful, the only thing they need to be raising a happy family is the one thing that they lack in life.

a loud chirping at your right as you step onto the landing of the second-floor surprises you. you turn your head to look at the green-colored parrot in the cage. it has its’ head tilted as it stares up at your

unfamiliar face.

“this is toto, my pet.”

“your pet?”

he nods.

“out of all the animals you can have as a pet, you chose a parrot?”

he shrugs, “toto is everyone’s best friend in this house.”

you blink, and he does too.

“oh, okay.” you say and he nods. “come, my room is this way.” he leads you over to the door that has a messy scribble of ‘choi beomgyu’ in colorful crayons, opening it for you and urging you to take step inside. “after you.”

his room is surprisingly neat. well, it’s not like you have seen a guy’s room before but you did assume beomgyu to be a little messy kind of person — the usual clothes on the floor, comic books scattered

on the bed, snacks wrappers on the desk. but his room is clean, no used clothes on the floor, only a round foldable table in the middle of the room.

“how long are we supposed to wait for the pastries to cool down?” you ask, taking a seat on the floor by the desk. “around half an hour,” he replies. “you know what other baked goods i’m really good at?”

you shake your head, “tell me.”

“pumpkin spice cupcake, but we don’t have any in the store now. it’s not autumn yet so finding for pumpkin is quite hard this time of the year.” he explains.

“how am i supposed to have a taste then?”

“that means you have to come here again during autumn,” he says. “i’ll bake every autumn desserts for you. beside, don’t you want to see my pretty face in a different season too?”

you grimace, “what difference does your face make in autumn?”

he laughs before reaching over to his guitar that was leaning against the wall beside the door.

so, he does play the guitar.

“do you want to hear a snippet of the song i wrote?” he asks while tuning his guitar.

“you wrote songs?”

“yeah, for fun though. i’ve never really let anyone listen to it, aside from the guys.”

“sure,” you say, holding in your excitement.

“i wrote this a few days ago, it’s not finished yet but i’ll try to give my best.” he gives you a smile before he starts strumming his guitar strings softly.

and when you thought choi beomgyu is already beautiful from the way he smiles, from the way his eyes twinkle under the summer sunshine, from the way his whisker dimples form on his cheeks when

he laughs — here he is giving you another reason to think that he is the most heavenly person you have ever came across when he opens his mouth to sing.

your fresh fragrance, your sparkling eyes

makes me feel better

reality loses its power, even the earth dies

the moment is eternal

you’re not sure is it the way the sunlight shining through the open window or the way his eyes are fixated on you while he sings, but you can feel the blood rushing to your face, leaving your cheeks feeling so warm.

no matter where you are, no matter what season

if we’re together, feel like summer

“this is getting boring.” says hueningkai as he throws the uno cards on to the floor before plopping on his back on the ground.

“agree, we should be doing something else.” taehyun, who has been scrolling on his phone since half an hour ago finally spoke.

beomgyu, with his four other friends along with a few others are sprawled out in choi yeonjun’s basement. they’ve been doing everything that they deem fun to do in the last four hours — the video games, board games, card games, truth or dare (in which beomgyu had successfully dodged every single question and dare related to you).

“let’s hit the diner, i’m kind of starving,” one of yeonjun’s friends, minho, suggest to which the other boys agree without any objections.

“nah man, i’ll pass for tonight.” beomgyu says, already standing up from his seat, “think i’m going to go home and sleep.”

“really, sleep?” minho asks, smirking up to beomgyu. “or are you going to see that girl, what’s her name again? y/n?”

beomgyu raises his eyebrow, “what does y/n got to do with this?”

sensing the shift in the air, soobin quickly nudges minho in the rib. “hey, shut your mouth.” says the older.

“i don’t know, beomgyu?” the blondie continues, “i barely see you hang out with your friends lately. every time i ask them where’s beomgyu, their answers were always the same; hanging out with y/n.” he pushes his tongue against his cheeks, clearly enjoying how extremely annoyed beomgyu looks.

“you don’t even have time for your friends anymore now? why? too busy fucking that little rich bit-…” and the next thing beomgyu knows is he is on top of the guy, throwing punches across the blondie’s

face as both soobin and yeonjun try to pull him away.

“don’t you fucking dare say that word.” he yells out loudly, throwing another blow on minho’s cheek.

minho forcefully pushes beomgyu, making the latter falls on his back as the blonde-haired boy climbs on top of him, punching him on the corner of his lips before yeonjun had to (literally) throw hands

towards minho to make him stop punching his younger friend.

there’s a loud ringing in beomgyu’s ears, his head spinning.

he was never one to resort to violence when it comes to anything. aside from that one time he accidentally kicked a girl in elementary school while trying to show off his hapkido skills, beomgyu has never hurt anyone physically. but there is something about the way your name rolls on minho’s tongue that make him sick to the core.

he gets on his feet after regaining his vision again, blood trickling down from his lips. he gives his friends one last glance before running up the stairs of the basement, slamming the door loudly as he walks out.

wiping his bloody lips with the sleeve of his hoodie, he curses under his breath, thinking he can’t go home with bruised lips and blood stains on his hoodie — his mom would make a big deal about it.

so, he continues walking — passes the front of the bakery, up the hill. feet moving according to where his heart wants him to go. to find comfort.

and it wasn’t a surprise to him as he stops in front of your aunty’s house, looking up to the second floor where your room is. the lights are out, total darkness surrounding your room. of course, it’s half

passed midnight, of course you will be sleeping by now.

beomgyu is not sure why did he came here. it’s not like he wants you to see him in this state — bruised lips, fresh blood still oozing from the cut, tousled hair, red stains on the sleeve of his yellow hoodie.

no, he doesn’t want you to see him looking this miserable. he was just trying to look for comfort, and to him, his comfort comes in the shape of a girl in an oversized blue t-shirt standing across from him.

“you scare me!” he says as he finds your figure standing in front of the gate of the house.

“what are you doing out here?” you ask.

“what are you doing out here?”

you cross your arms on your chest, “i saw you from the window.” though the only source of light shining on him comes from the dingy lamppost above him, you’re still able to make out his busted lips.

stepping over to him, you gently take his face in your hands. at that moment, beomgyu knows coming here to actually see you wasn’t a bad idea when he can feel the heat from your palms engulfing his cheeks.

he wanted solace and apparently you are his.

“what happened to you?” you ask softly, afraid that if you raise your voice any higher it might hurt him.'

“i fell…” he says, “for you.”

you take your hands off his cheek, slapping his arm to which he jokingly winces in pain. “how could you slap me when i’m already this wounded?” he pouts, “i did fell, okay? i tripped while coming up

here. the hill can be pretty steep sometimes.”

“you’ve been going up and down this hill your whole life, how can you suddenly fell today out of nowhere?”

“i don’t know? people make mistakes, y/n.”

you roll your eyes, “come on, i’ll clean it up for you.”

beomgyu didn’t hesitate to follow you into the house, up the stairs and into your bedroom. you lead him over to the bathroom, trying not to make too much noise and waking up your aunt in the room

right across from yours— you don’t think she would appreciate you bringing a boy into the house in the middle of the night, and the last thing you want is her thinking there’s something passionate going

around between you and the baker’s son.

taking his face in one hand gently, you blow onto his cut. “it’s going to sting a little, okay?” he hums, enjoying the cool breeze from you on his open wound.

he watches you tentatively as you dab the antiseptic on his skin. “does it hurt?” you ask to which he just shakes his head no. “okay. phew, this is kinda scary.” you giggle as you lean closer to his face again, your nose a few inches away from his.

beomgyu roams his eyes all over your face — your eyes, your nose, and your lips. he observes the way your long eyelashes flutters against your soft cheeks with every blink you make. the way your pupils dilate as you are so focused on attending his busted lips. the way your nose scrunches up occasionally when he lets out a low groan of pain. the way your lips are pull into a pout while you’re busy nagging to him.

even under the ugly fluorescent light of the bathroom, with you wearing the most basic clothes — no fancy summer dresses, or blouses, or expensive sneakers – with your hair messily being put up into a bun, face free from any kind of make-up, to choi beomgyu; you are the most beautiful.

and in the daze of post-punched and being in your presence, he lets the words slip out of his mouth.

“you are so fucking beautiful, y/n.”

the saying of time flies when you’re having fun is actually true. days have turned into weeks, and weeks have turned into months — it’s already been two months since you first arrived in this small

town with the ocean view.

the past months have been filled with many new things you’ve never experienced in your life — going hiking to see the sunrise with beomgyu, harvesting vegetables and herbs with aunty sue, helping

beomgyu’s mom in the bakery, binge eating snacks at the convenience store past midnight with beomgyu and his friends, barbecue party with the townspeople.

and the most precious thing you’ve encountered during this summer break is friendship — not only with beomgyu, but his friends too. you’ve come to get comfortable with yeonjun, soobin, taehyun and

hueningkai along the way after spending time with them. beomgyu had brought you along to hang out with them a few times, and you had grown to enjoy the boys’ company, too.

and beomgyu has stay true to his words about making this summer the best three months break of your life.

“you look pretty already,” aunty sue says behind you as you’re busy fixing the strands of your hair framing your face.

turning to look at her, you pout. “i’m not.”

“beomgyu thinks you are.”

you blush, looking into the mirror to avoid your aunt’s teasing eyes. “i’m done, let’s go.”

“you’re not going with beomgyu?” she asks as the both of you are walking down the hill, a rattan basket in your hand.

“he said he’ll meet me there,” you explain. “he has to help his mom with the bakery booth.”

“ah, right. i forgot about that.”

another new thing you get to experience in this small town is their annual summer festival. aunty sue had told you that the town’s mayor came up with the idea of making the festival around a decade ago

in an attempt to give some sort of entertainment for the kids and teenagers, and also the adults, in the town during the season. it was a great success the first year it was being held — with more than

thirty booths of various foods and games. hence, why the summer festival has become the town’s annual event now.

as you reach the festival’s venue which is being held by the beach, you see soobin and yeonjun chattering at a booth near the entrance. you hand aunty sue the basket before excusing yourself to talk to the boys.

“yeonjun! soobin!” you call out, running up towards them. “oooh, y/n! you look so cute!” soobin exclaims excitedly as you stop in front of him. “but not as cute as choi odi, though.”

“choi odi?” you question and the boy nods “my pet.”

“a cat?”

“no, a hedgehog.”

you grimace — what’s with this group of friends and their weird animals as pet?

“what? you don’t think hedgehogs are cute?” he asks.

no, they look like rat — is what you wanted to say but you don’t have the heart to voice those words out from the look soobin is giving you. “yeah, they are… not bad.” you say before moving your gaze

away from him.

yeonjun notices the way your eyes are scanning around for the familiar mob of brown hair in the sea of visitors, and he chuckles. “his booth is on the other side,” he says. “want us to show you the way?”

your cheeks flushed from being caught but you thank him, anyways. “it’s okay, i’ll go by myself. i’ll see you guys later, then!” you say, walking away from them while waving.

you were about to walk around, trying to find his mom’s bakery booth when you hear your phone’s notification inside your bag. pulling it out, you smile as you read the name of the sender.

beomgyu: where u at, pretty girl? i saw your aunt but not you.

you quickly type in your reply.

you: i’m at a cotton candy stall near the entrance, omw to find u

beomgyu: stay there. i’ll go to u.

after waiting for a while, you spot him walking over to you — dressed in a white button up shirt, tucked inside his black jeans. hair slightly dishevelled from the ocean breeze. he has a smile across his face as

he keeps coming closer to where you’re waiting for him.

even in the sea of people, choi beomgyu is the only one that caught your eyes. you could be in a big ballroom of a masquerade party and the only one that has your attention is still choi beomgyu — there’s

just something about him that you can’t seem to explain that make you only look at him and him only.

you look up to him when he stops in front of you, the smile from earlier getting wider. “hi, pretty.” he says before his hand reaches up to your face, tugging the strands of hair behind your ear neatly. this

has been a little habit of his that he really loves doing whenever he sees your hair getting on your face — never once have you told him that you purposely let those strands untied.

“the firework show will be at 8pm, so we will have around,” he checks his phone, “hour and half to walk around. what do you want to do?”

“you’re not helping your mom’s booth?”

“my brother is here, so he’ll be helping mom for today.” he says, peeking to the stall behind you. “wanna try the cotton candy?”

there is already a line of children waiting for their turns to get the sweet treats in various shapes —heart, bunny, flower, and even a unicorn. when it reaches your turn, beomgyu asks you what shape

you would like for your candy, and you eagerly point at the bear on the menu sheet.

“here’s your order, mr. lover boy.” the man says, handing the stick of the bear-shaped cotton candy to beomgyu. “enjoy your time here, lovebirds.”

“we’re not-…”

“thank you, we will.” taking the candy from the man, beomgyu put his hand on the small of your back, leading you away from the line.

you look up at him, blush evident on your cheeks. why didn’t he deny the man earlier? lovebirds? love, really? “beomgyu, why didn’t you-..” you pause mid-sentence when he hands you the cotton candy.

looking up at him, then down to the cotton candy that is still in his hand, then up to him again and down to the candy again, you let out a laugh.

he furrows his eyebrow questioningly, “what so funny?”

taking out your phone, you open the camera app. “stand still.”

he complies, standing still with the cotton candy in hand all the while you’re giggling and snapping multiple pictures of him. “are you done?” he whines.

you show him the photo on your phone screen, swiping right to let him see the rest of his pictures you’ve taken. “the bear looks just like you!”

“is it funny to you?” he asks, wrapping his arm around your waist as he tickles your side. you squirm in his hold, laughing harder. “it is, because it looks exactly like you- ah! beomgyu, stop tickling me!”

he holds onto the stick of the cotton candy tighter as his other arm is still wrapped around your waist. beomgyu has always known of how beautiful you look when you smile and laugh, but, oh god. right

now, where you’re laughing to your heart’s content, in his arm, dressed in the loveliest white summer dress he has ever seen, with the warm glow of the sun slowly setting, he swears nothing else is as

beautiful as you. not even close.

“beomgyu, please stop. i’m going to pee.” you beg, tears from laughing pooling in your eyes. he lets you go slowly before handing the cotton candy to you which you gladly take.

“let’s go,” he says as he takes your free hand in his, pulling you into the gleeful summer festival.

you spent a good hour touring around the festival — eating tanghulu and few other famous street foods. playing random games at the game booths even though you knew they were all rigged, it was

still fun — beomgyu did won you a small teddy bear keychain from the dart game.

you visited your aunt’s stall too, where she’s selling little handcrafted trinkets. you couldn’t ignore the cheeky smile she sent you when she saw the way beomgyu was holding onto your hand.

then, you went to his mom’s booth where you met his brother for the first time. you were kind of expecting the teasing from him, but you didn’t know it would be so bad to the point you had to ask beomgyu for a glass of water, afraid you might suddenly pass out from the excessive blood rush.

it was fun. you don’t think you have experienced this much fun in your life. the last time you felt happy was when you had visited disneyland back when you were ten. with your maid, not with your parents. you don’t think you would have enjoyed it as much if you did go with them.

“we have 10 more minutes before the fireworks show.” beomgyu says as he leans his side against the railing. he had suggested to go up the cliff to have a better view of the firework. you thought it’s going

to be a packed spot but surprisingly there are only three other people there, sitting distance away from where you and beomgyu are standing.

you can feel his stare from the corner of your eyes, making your cheeks flushed. god, is it possible to lose one’s life from immense blushing? if it is, then you’re in a terrible danger.

“have you ever been in love?” he asks suddenly.

at that moment, the only thing you can hear is the loud ringing in your ears. gone the sound of the festive happening down by the beach, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the sound

of the people behind you chattering. the sound of beomgyu’s voice.

have you ever been in love?

have you? you want to say no. you want to tell him that you don’t believe in love — that you would rather believe in the existence of a flying elephant rather than believing in love. you want to tell him

there is no such a thing as love in this world. there is no such a thing as sincere love. people love to get what they desire in return — money, power, status, pride. your parents are a living prove of that.

you want to tell him if there is one thing you are so fucking afraid of in this world, it is to love.

you want to tell him that you don’t think love is worth taking the risk, you don’t think it’s worth fighting for. love is not a real thing. you’ve seen so many people from school getting heartbroken over a

breakup with their lover, only to jump into a new relationship a week after that. if love is a real existing thing then, how could you move on so easily like that?

you so badly want to tell him, but no words come out from your mouth as you stare into his sparkling eyes.

“you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he says after sensing the discomfort on your face.

“have you?”

“yeah,” he says, now facing the sea. “i’m in love with a lot of things — my family, my friends, toto, my bicycle.” he says, shifting on his feet, “i love helping my mom in the bakery, i love writing songs even

when no one listens to it. i love this town, no matter how boring it gets sometimes, i still love it.”

“i love summer,” he says as he turns to face you again. “i love summer because it brought you to me.”

you were about to say something to him when you hear the announcement from the speakers that the fireworks will be going off in the count of three.

ignoring the proclamation, you keep your eyes fixated on his. he is staring at you endearingly, a soft smile on his lips as he takes a step closer towards you.

three

he takes another step forward, until the tips of his shoes are meeting yours.

two

he tugs the strands of your hair behind your ear like he usually does, only this time he didn’t put his hand down, keeping it on the soft skin of your cheek. he rests his other hand on your waist, pulling you slightly closer to him.

one

he tilts his head, leaning down towards your face before stopping, leaving a small gap as he waits for you to make the next move, an unspoken sign of asking for your permission.

and as the fireworks start shooting in the sky, you stand on your tiptoes. hands resting against his chest as you lean forward, closing the gap in between your lips and his soft ones.

it started off with you gently resting your lips on his, until he starts to pull you closer by your waist — where he deepens the kiss.

it feels magical.

the way his lips are massaging softly against your own, the way his thumb is caressing your cheek in the gentlest manner, the way he tightens his hold on your waist — not hard enough to hurt you but

strong enough to keep you in place, the way his heart is beating so fast under your palm. the way the sky is glowing and shimmering brightly with the non-stop fireworks.

he is magical.

it’s not like you have ever kissed a boy before but the way beomgyu is kissing you with so much care, with so much affection, so endearingly, with so much love — you know the kiss is perfect. you just know it is.

because you don’t need a flawless kiss for it to feel complete, all you need is choi beomgyu to be the one kissing you.

to you, choi beomgyu is the epitome of perfection.

the ringing of your phone wakes you up from your deep sleep. reaching over to the vibrating device on the nightstand, you pick up the call without checking the caller id.

“hello?” you say, voice hoarse.

“y/n?” shoot, it’s your mom. “are you still sleeping?”

“uh, yeah. i just… woke up.” you sit up on your bed, eyeing the clock on the wall – 12:04pm. if there is one thing your mom hates, it would be tardiness — in anything, including the time you wake up from

sleep.

“i slept really late last night,” in which you did. after the summer festival, and the whole kissing thing, beomgyu had walked you home. not forgetting to give you another kiss, which felt more like a peck,

before he left. and you had stayed up until almost four in the morning replaying that particular scene on the cliff over and over again in your head.

you hear your mom sighs from the other end, “how you been doing there?”

oh, that’s new.

“it’s been okay,” you twirl the end of your blanket. “aunty sue is a very war-…”

“listen, y/n. i’m kind of busy right now. i just called to remind you about your leave after the summer break.”

and that is when reality hits you.

“your dad thought it would be a good idea if you come home this weekend. to make early preparations.”

shit. how could you forget?

“i’ll send a driver to pick you up this sunday,” she says, and you can hear rustling from her end, “i gotta go.”

when the line goes off, you remain holding your phone against your ear.

how can you get forget? did you forget because you’re too busy having fun here? did you forget because you finally found something, or rather, someone to share your happiness with? did you forget

that you’re only here temporarily, to take a breather from the crowded city? did you forget that you’re not supposed to be attached to anyone?

you’re leaving. you’re leaving the country in september. you’re leaving for a university on the other side of the world. you’re leaving your home. you’re leaving this town.

you’re leaving beomgyu.

beomgyu.

these past months, you have been engulfing yourself too much into whatever temporary fantasy he had created for you. you were so into it that you started to brush away all of your beliefs that have

been your pillar your whole life. you were so blinded by the happiness he had brought you that you started making an exception for him.

and for the first time in two months, for the first time since you have arrived in this small town with an ocean view, for the first time since you met the boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky — you want to be anywhere but here.

you know you’re being a jerk to beomgyu — ignoring his calls and text messages, lying to him about coming down with a fever, forcing aunty sue to make up whatever excuses she could think of

whenever the boy stopped by to catch a glimpse of you, pretending to be sleeping whenever you saw him standing under the lamppost outside of the house at night.

you’re being irrelevant and you know that better than anyone else. but you can’t find any other way to explain to him about everything — you’re not ready and you don’t know how to. you know he’s in

love with you, and maybe, just maybe, you do harbour the same feeling for him as well — but you're in denial.

love does not exist.

that’s what you’ve been telling yourself every day.

you’re going back home tomorrow, and you have successfully avoided beomgyu up until this point. until aunty sue had to (almost) beg on her knees asking you to deliver an official government letter to

the choi’s place. she had come down with a summer fever herself, making you feel bad if you refuse to help.

and that’s how you find yourself inside the the bakery’s kitchen that saturday afternoon, a brown envelope in hand. you are glad it is saturday — meaning beomgyu is not around as he always spends

the day at taehyun’s place.

you peek around the kitchen, no one in sight. there’s no one behind the register in the bakery too. is the shop closed?

you hear footsteps coming down the stairs, turning around with the envelope still in hand, “mrs. choi, aunty sue asked me to-…”

you blink, hands coming down to your sides.

leaving the brown paper on top of the counter, you were about to make an escape before you feel his hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back to him.

“y/n,”

“let me go,” you say under your breath.

he pushes you against the wall, trapping your body. “are you okay?”

out of all the things he could be saying to you right now, he’s asking you if you’re okay? out of all the mean things he could be spitting to you right now for ignoring him without explanation, the words

that came out from his mouth are those of endearment.

you avoid his eyes, afraid that you might break if you catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. “i’m fine.”

“then why have you been ignoring me?”

“i wasn’t feeling well.”

“then, that means you’re not okay.” he says softly, “look at me, y/n.”

you look up at him, tears pooling your eyes. “why are you being so difficult?!” you didn’t mean to scream in his face, but at this point, your brain has lose control — your body moving according to your

heart.

beomgyu is taken aback by your sudden outburst, “what?”

“why are you making it a big deal that i’m not talking or hanging out with you anymore?”

“how am i supposed to not make it a big deal when the person i’m in love with is pushing me away?” there, he said it.

“love?” you say, while trying your hardest to keep your tears from falling. “there is no such a thing as love in this world, beomgyu.”

“are you saying my feelings for you are invalid? of course, there is. there’s love everywhere in this world.”

“no, there’s none!” you scream again, “how can you fall in love with someone within, what? two months? that’s unrealistic, beomgyu.”

“you don’t need years to fall in love with someone, y/n. you can be by someone’s side for decades, shares one roof, sits at the same dinner table and sleeps on the same bed for years and years onwards

but if there is no love then there will be no love until the end.” he raises his voice slightly.

you finally let your tears fall as images of your parents cross your mind — of how unhappy they are with each other, of how their eyes never hold any kind of affection for one another. they have been

married for almost two decades now — live under the same roof, eat at the same dinner table, sleep on the same bed, wear the same silver bands around their ring fingers – but the love was never there. it’s never going to be there.

if there is no love then there will be no love until the end.

they are the reason why you’re acting the way you are now.

"i don’t need years to fall in love with you, y/n.” he wipes the tears on your cheek gently, “the moment i saw you that one summer afternoon, i knew i was falling head over heels for you.” he pauses,

searching for your eyes. “i knew that i’m in love with you.”

“tell me, y/n… did i do anything wrong? is it the kiss?” he asks, “i’m sorry i stepped over my boundaries.”

“it’s not the kiss,” you whisper.

“then? what’s bothering you, baby?”

more tears come out of your eyes at the nickname, “this whole thing,” you gesture to him and you, “you know it’s not going to last, right?”

he shakes his head, “no, i know you’re going to back to the city after the break, but we’ll make it work. it’s not even that far. you know people do anything for their loved ones, right?”

you take a deep breath, before wailing loudly, not caring about anything anymore. “you’re not gonna love me anymore after i leave, beomgyu. and i’m not talking about going back to the city. i’m leaving the country soon, to the other side of the world, for four fucking years, choi beomgyu!”

“i’ll wait for you, i promise.”

“no one is that stupid enough to wait for someone for that long. why take the risk of waiting years for someone? what if i suddenly came back with a boyfriend, or a fiancé?”

“you worth all the risk in the world, y/n.”

“why are you making things difficult for me?” you push him off of you before you make a run for the door. you continue running up the hill, tears still spilling out your eyes.

you stop, looking back to where you came running from. he doesn’t come chasing after you.

and a part of you wish that he did.

“is this the last one?” your driver asks as he loads the last of your luggage into the car’s boot.

you nod, thanking him to which he replies with a nod of his head. turning to face your aunt, you take her hand in yours. “thank you for taking care of me in the past two months.”

she smiles, rubbing on the back of your hand with her thumb. “are you sure you don’t want to see him first?”

you shake your head and the woman just nods hers before pulling you into a hug. it’s warm. she has always been warm, ever since the first time she picked you up at the train station. she has treated you

like nothing less than a family member, though you and her are very distant relatives.

“i’ll miss you.”

“i’ll miss you too, honey.” she caresses your hair. “come back soon, hm?”

you nod, moving away from her warm hold. “bye, aunty sue.”

as the car drives past the familiar bakery, you look down to your lap, droplets of tears wetting the thin fabric of your skirt.

and just like that, your temporary happiness ends.

the leaves start to wilt, slowly turning brown as the season transition from summer to autumn. the temperature getting colder and colder as each day passed by. no more scorching sun, no more clear

blue sky, no more children running around by the beach.

he stands on the cliff, overlooking the ocean. nothing much has changed since three years ago — except some parts of the railing has awfully broken down. honestly, he prefers it that way — the town not

changing. the way the town looks boring to an outsider, but actually holds a lot of hidden wonders.

the town holds a lot of dear memories to him. this is the town he has grown up in, the town that taught him all the life lessons that made him the person he is today, the town that brought him a girl

that he could never forget, even in his next life.

he looks over to the sea. if he swims far enough, would he reach the other side of the world? to where you are right now?

three years.

it has been three years since he last heard anything from you. it’s not like he didn’t try reaching out to you, he did, multiple times. he tried calling your phone, only to be greeted with the same bot telling

him that the number is no longer in service. he tried looking up for your social media — facebook, instagram, anything. but nothing ever came up with your name aside from a profile website of your

family, a picture of fifteen years old you under the words ‘daughter of a successful businessman and the uprising fashion designer’. he thought you look adorable in the picture, despite the lack of life in

your eyes.

three years went by and you still haven’t come back.

three years and all he could think about every day is you.

you, you, you.

his friends have been telling him to just let it go, telling him it was just a summer fling, telling him it’s time for him to move on, to go meet new people in college.

but he didn’t. he knows what is worth it in his life — you are worth the wait, the risk, everything.

he tugs his hands inside the pocket of his coat, the air is getting so chilly despite it being only september.

“thought i would find you here,”

he turns his head so fast as he hears the familiar voice, he thought he might get a whiplash from it. but as he stares at the figure standing across from him, he thinks he is experiencing more than a whiplash right now.

there you are, standing five feet apart from him. he roams his eyes over your smiling face, and he wonders how is it possible for someone to be this beautiful. you look different from the last time he

saw you, in a good way.

your hair is slightly shorter compared to three years ago, you have lost the baby fats on your cheeks too, making your cheekbones stand out when you smile, and your eyes, they no longer look like the one he saw on the last day he saw you, or in the picture from the internet. your eyes are filled with life now, sparkling under the grey sky of the autumn morning.

“i went to your mom’s bakery but you weren’t around. figured you would be-…” you didn’t get to finish your sentence as the man takes a long stride towards you before pulling you into his arms.

he holds the back of your head with one hand, pressing your nose against the base of his neck while his other hand is wrapped around your waist.

he still smells the same — a mixture of frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, and bergamot waters.

even in a different season, he still smells like summer.

you wrap your arms around him, “sorry i took too long.”

shaking his head, he wraps his arm tighter around you figure — afraid that you might suddenly evaporate into thin air, and this is just another night dream of his. “no, thank you for coming back.”

“thank you, too. for waiting for me.”

he pulls you away from his neck, staring deep into your eyes. “i promised i would wait for you, didn’t i?”

you nod, smiling up at him happily. you notice how he had grown few inches since the last time you saw him that one afternoon in the back of his mom’s bakery, from the way your neck is straining so

much looking up at him. his hair is no longer the deep shade of brown anymore, it's ash grey now.

he leans down, tilting his head as he nudges your nose with his — waiting for you to close the distance between his lips and yours, just like what he did that one summer night, in this exact same spot.

and as you finally rest your lips upon his — you think about how choi beomgyu is worth all the risk that you’ve took. the arguments with your parents because they kept opposing the idea of you dating a

nameless boy from a small town, the cramped semesters because you wanted to cut one semester off so you can come back to him a year sooner, the longing and aching feeling for him you got whenever

your friends in university talk about their partners. at the end, there were all worth it.

choi beomgyu is worth it.

you are still a firm believer of love does not exist. it’s hard to get rid of that idea when you’ve been sticking to it almost all of your life. and given that your parents’ eyes still lack of love and affection for

each other even after being married for a whole two decades now, it’s impossible to accept that there is love out there for everyone.

but to you; love exists in a form of a boy whose eyes shine brighter than any stars in the night sky, and that is all that matters to you.

and to choi beomgyu; even under the cloudy and gloomy autumn morning sky, with wilted leaves dancing around in the air with the wind, with the temperature getting colder and colder as day passed

by, it feels like summer to him — because it doesn’t matter where he is, or what season it is, whenever he’s with you, it feels like summer.

[createdbytragedy]

PRETTY~~

Beomgyu stared at you as you went on about your day. Your voice sounding like a melody in his ear. He couldn't get his eyes off you, barely listening and just letting your beauty consume him. He notice everything and everything about him you had him mesmerized. From the way your lips parted as you talked, the way your eyes light up at the certain times, how you use your hands to demonstrate certain situations to the way a strand of hair fell on your eyes which you would absentmindedly tug behind your ear only to come loose again with all your movement. You halt your rant, seeing your boyfriend has been real quiet. You found him staring at you with this mysterious glint in his eyes that had your heart skip a beat. "Why are you staring at me like that?" you asked, tilting your head slightly. Beomgyu continued to stare, ignoring your question, he lifted up his hand to tug a strand of hair behind your ear ," You're so pretty..." You blushed, a shy smile forming over your lips as you mumbled a small 'thank you'. Beomgyu thought you looked cute. So cute and pretty. His hand rested on your cheek, caressing with his thumb as he looked into your eyes. The sunlight creeping in through the curtains illuminated his eyes and you could not miss the love and adoration he held for you that glistened under the sun. "I'm so down bad for you, you know. I fell in love with you before I even knew I did" he confessed, drawing circles around your cheek which were turning pink, " To be with you, that's all I want now" he sighs, giving you a smile brighter than the sun's ray. "I love you" he whispered, "Love you more than words could describe" he said, pulling you in for a kiss. And you loved him too. More than he will ever know.

[matcha-binz]

Valentine - (C.bg)

꒰ 🌸 ꒱

Imagine acedemic rival! beomgyu trying to confess to you on valentines day, to tell you that he thinks that you're really cute, and that he liked you ever since you threw that snarky remark at beomgyu at the first day of school.

He tells you to meet with him after school, with a tender look in his eyes that told you he was being serious. You accept, and now you stand infront of Choi Beomgyu under the mongolia tree wondering what the actual fuck he just said.

"You like me?" The blush in his face deepens as he looks to the ground, away from your eyes, hiding his clammy hands behind his back as he stammers for an answer.

"Y-yeah, I do, so what!? I-I mean... you don't have to say yes-" He was cut off by the feeling of your lips on his, eyes flutting shut as his hands find their place on your cheek, not pulling away because this is what he's been waiting for since the begining. You pull away with a smile and red ears, giggling at his stunned reaction.

"I like you too, dummy"

[arisuraxz]

Twinkling Watermelon (pt.2)

summary: you fell in love with beomgyu first, but he fell harder.

warning: cursing

taglist: @eclipse-777 (lmk if you want to be tagged!)

im actually happy writing this JIHSUIYGSIHI but hope u enjoy!1!!!

if you havent read part 1, look at my page!

beomgyu was holding you, and running, rushing to the hospital. beomgyu was actually worried because a guy has to take care of a girl, right?

and this is how it started. Beomgyu at the time beomgyu now has a crush on you. Blushing hard. As soon as he went to the hospital, he shouted.

"nurse! help! this girl collapsed! help!"

the nurse ran up to beomgyu, to take care of you, so they put you into a rolling hospital bed, and took you into a room.

🪢

an hour later, you still haven't woken up. the nurses talking to beomgyu, saying something.

"mr. choi, for this, you have to sign a paper for y/n," as she passes out the paper to beomgyu.

"oh yeah, ofc, nurse!"

well, beomgyu didnt know what to do. he just thought of 'its just letters all over the paper' in his mind. all he did was just put his signature in the paper.

"thank you!" beomgyu told to the nurse.

so he ran, to check on you, so he went to the room your in, and checked to see if your okay. as he was checking, you woke up. you saw yourself lying down in a rolling hospital bed, looking around, and before you realized you were even in a hospital, you saw beomgyu. you were shocked. you asked yourself in your mind, 'did he take you to the hospita-'

"y/n? are you okay? im so glad you woke up!" he was relieved, he was waiting for 1 hour, and 15 minutes for you to wake up.

huh? you didnt know what was happening, and you finally realized, you were in a hospital.

"beom-beomgyu? what are you doing here?" you said, clueless.

"you dont need to know about that, y/n, are you really okay? you got me worried."

"yeah, im okay, i think im gonna go now" you got out of your bed and went outside, going to your home.

"wait nono, y/n! are you hungry? i can take you to a restaurant and ill pay you!"

wait, what? hes really paying me? we arent even close, or not even friends, but this? Nah, no way.

"no, im not hungry, now leave me alone. my mom will be angry at me." then, your stomach rumbles.

"ehehehhheh!! what do you mean? your hungry! hahahah!!" you realized, so you covered your stomach with your arms and you walked away. and, beomgyu was infront of you again.

"nonononono y/n, im sorry! ill actually pay you! which restaurant do you wanna go? anywhere, y/n! i dont care if its expensive, ill pay you!" he begged, with his puppy eyes, watering.

"fine. lets go to the restaurant there."

so you both went to the restaurant you wanted to go, and he was actually serious. he did pay you. after he paid, you and beomgyu went to the table, waiting for the food. and maybe after twenty minutes. the foods finally here. you both were eating peacefully, and you looked at beomgyu, eating, and damn, he looked so pretty. you were admiring him. beomgyu realized, and as soon as he realized, you went back to eating your food. Beomgyu was blushing, crazy, like, actually crazy. he was blushing so hard, that his legs are swinging and kicking. so he went back to his food, and he was about to tell you something.

"y/n, do you like your food?" he wondered.

"yeah, i do, do you?" you wondered back.

"ofc i do! why? did you think that my food was bad?"

"what? no! im also just wondering" you told to beomgyu.

and you both went back to eating your food.

🪢

you both were walking to your guys home, and around 8pm, and you normally was supposed to be home at 5pm, but you didnt care at all. you didnt want to ruin the moment.

"hey, y/n, since we are going home, ill give you my number. so, if you need any help, contact me. ill be here for you. or, if you cant, please think about me!" while he said that, he showed you his number.

your heart felt like it was about to burst. you were blushing, and beomgyu was too. so you smiled.

"your smiling.." beomgyu looked at you, as he said quietly.

"what did you say?" you asked.

"what, y/n?"

"oh, nevermind."

"well, y/n, please walk home safe! ill see you tomorrow!!" he ran. "tornado!"

you look at him, running. then, you walked home. while you walked home, you were thinking about the scene that happened with you and beomgyu. you were happy. you never been so happy before in your life. As soon as i got home, i went into my bed, laid down, and thought all bout the things me and beomgyu did. and i realized, i have the biggest crsuh on him.

[xumuchluv]

⌞Vague Lines & Blurred Loyalties⌝

Genre: Smut (MDNI), angst, romance Pairing: Ex Yeonjun x Fem Reader Warnings: CAR SEX, Swearing, Fighting, Miscommunication (Ig), arguments, crying (everyone lmao), Little dry humping, Oral (both receive it), Jealousy, kissing, they're a bit toxic, Dom Yeonjun, unprotected sex, teasing, fake dating, hickeys, etc.. Settings: Summer (Bar, Apartment, Parking lot, Car..) Song Recommendation: Again - Noah Cyrus & XXXTENTACION Word Count: 14k

In all honesty, you’re not the type of person to do double dates. So, you had no reason to be in this downtown bar on a sweltering summer night. Yet here you are, waiting for the other couple to join you, and it’s already well past the original meeting time.

“How much longer will they take? It’s already 11 pm,” you inquire impatiently, feeling the sweat bead on your forehead. The oppressive heat of this summer night is almost unbearable, the thick air pressing down on you, making the sticky leather of the bar stool even more uncomfortable.

“Only five more minutes, okay? You can wait five more minutes for me, right? You know how important this is to me.” Beomgyu bends down, brushing a stray strand of hair off your damp forehead, then looks at you with those glimmering puppy eyes. Those damn puppy eyes that convinced you to agree to this whole charade in the first place.

You sigh, feeling the warm air from your breath mix with the heat, and look down in defeat. Beomgyu’s smile broadens, knowing he’s won. He glances toward the entrance of the bar, the neon lights casting a colorful glow on his face.

“Oh, they're here!” Beomgyu exclaims. His words fade into the cacophony of music and cheers that envelop the bar as he goes to greet his friends. You don’t bother turning your head to meet them. They’ll come to your table anyway. You lean your head back, closing your eyes, hoping for a moment’s peace before the inevitable small talk begins.

The heat seems to amplify the sounds around you—the clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversations, the distant laughter. Suddenly, you hear approaching voices mingling with Beomgyu’s loud chatter and lift your head, preparing to greet the couple. Out of politeness, you stand up. However, the sight before you shocks you into sitting back down involuntarily.

“Hello! Nice to meet you. I’m Nari. I’m guessing you’re Y/N?” The girl asks, her voice smooth and friendly. She smiles warmly, but your focus is on the man beside her. Yeonjun. He stands there, an imposing figure, his presence commanding the space around him. The soft glow of the bar lights accentuates his sharp features, and there’s an aura about him that makes the stifling heat feel even more intense.

In your head, Yeonjun and you were like what thorns are to roses, Yeonjun adorned you the same way thorns do to roses. He protected you many times, shielded you from even yourself at times. However, he suffocated you, blocking the outside world from your view. And so the rose had to pluck out the thorns; you had to pluck Yeonjun out of your life.

(And when the rose violently snapped off her thorns, once a part of her, her body released a liquid, blood, to try and soothe her pain. Though, now without her thorns, she still feels the emptiness from the gaps of where the thorns used to decorate her body. But the rose would never admit to that.)

It is safe to say that your relationship ended rockily.

"Y/N? Babe?" Beomgyu snaps you out of your trance. "Sorry, I was zoned out a bit." You smile back at him and stand up. "Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N," you say, fighting the urge to look into Yeonjun’s piercing eyes.

"Beomgyu talks so much about you, I feel like you're my friend as well," Nari says, laughing. She seems so sweet, and you can’t help but examine her. You once used to be as bright as her. You remember when you styled your hair in various ways and wore colourful clothes just like hers. Now, you’re the complete opposite of how you were. All thanks to Yeonjun, and you can’t help but feel bad for her.

“Haha, does he?” You look at Beomgyu as you exclaim that, and he wraps his arm around your neck as he laughs, looking away, supposedly embarrassed. “Well, a friend of Beomgyu is a friend of mine as well,” you giggle.

The group chuckles amongst themselves, but now it’s time for Yeonjun’s introduction. Which Yeonjun seems to lack interest in doing, so Nari kindly chimes in, "Y/N, this is Yeonjun, my boyfriend." You decide to be brave and look him straight in the eyes. He looks just as amazing as you remember. Yeonjun is silent, extending his hand to shake, and utters the quietest “Nice to meet you.” It’s not spewed in a shy tone, but rather an annoyed one. He slightly grits his teeth as he says it. He meets your eyes with ferocity dancing in his eyes, almost matching your own.

His audacity always amused you, so you have no problem reciprocating his manner and shaking his hand. Your lips curl into a slight smile, feeling too natural for your own liking. The handshake is cut short by a subtle yank from your end.

“Nice to meet you too,” you say without faltering your smile.

As the four of you sit down at the table, the feeling of his fingers brushing your palm lingers on your skin. You're reminded of all the other times those fingers touched you, in all kinds of places. You suddenly feel your skin burning with imaginary touches from the man sitting in front of you, and you feel like you need to crawl out of your own skin. Disturbed with yourself for thinking about what you fought so hard to forget.

"Have you guys ever come here before?" Beomgyu asks the couple sitting opposite you. "No, well, Nari and I usually prefer to have dates in more romantic spots. Like the movies or an aquarium, you know?" Yeonjun says rather smugly, lifting his arm to place it around her shoulder.

You chuckle to yourself. Romantic spots? Yeonjun? The same Yeonjun who was always too focused on his games to even take you out? The same Yeonjun who would only take you on unplanned dates, if he took you out at all? Yeah, right.

A scoff escapes your mouth, and you force it into a laugh. “That’s great! Beomgyu and I do the exact same, but we like to experience a different atmosphere once in a while.” You look lovingly into Beomgyu’s eyes. “Right, Gyu?” The nickname rolls off your tongue, and Beomgyu looks a bit taken aback. “Yeah, of course, sweetheart.” You smile and lean your head onto his shoulder.

You chatter amongst yourselves for the remainder of the hour, except Yeonjun and you don’t really exchange words—not directly, at least. Instead, you exchange looks. Both of you can’t seem to help your wandering eyes. He looks just as you left him, but even better than you remember. That’s what time does, you suppose. On the contrary, you doubt he recognizes you as the person to wear your current fashion, nor the person to wear such expressions on your face either. But you suppose that’s what time does.

You’ve never been as clingy toward Beomgyu as you currently are. You’re practically sitting on his lap. However, the same can be said about the couple in front of you. Being as touchy as possible, there’s a silent competition occurring, and you and Yeonjun are the competitors. 

A specific question arouses your interest compared to the blur of the last few minutes. "How did you and Yeonjun meet?" Beomgyu asks. You lean your head in, awaiting her answer.

"Well, Yeonjun and I used to play games together all the time, and when we found out we lived in the same area, we decided to meet up. That was around two years ago, I think. He actually had a girlfriend when we first met in person, but shortly after we met up, they broke up, and that was my chance, haha."

Oh? Oh. So that's why she's familiar.

You met her once. She was gorgeous, but you also remember the huge fight that happened after the meeting. She was acting extra clingy toward him for just a friend, and you did not feel that was appropriate. And instead of reassuring you, Yeonjun just mocked your emotions. So she must be the reason he was always on that game, chatting with her. Suddenly, her laugh is agitating you.

A sense of betrayal washes over you upon learning this information. Yeonjun had many flaws, which you memorised inside the core of your brain ever since your breakup to convince yourself it was the right choice, but being a cheater was a new addition to the list.

You slowly avert your eyes up to Yeonjun’s. He has his body leaned against the wall behind him, and he looks down, meeting your gaze. "Is that so?" you blurt out, interrupting her not-so-little story. "I wasn't aware you enjoyed games that much, Yeonjun. What games other than video games do you enjoy playing? Perhaps mental games?" you spit out, the sharp edge of your words cutting through the air. Only Yeonjun seems to understand your intent.

He looks to the side and chuckles lowly, as if in disbelief over your words. Then he moves his frame onto the table and leans his head onto his hands, mirroring you. "I prefer physical games, actually," he says, emphasising the word "physical." It shouldn't have affected you as much as it did, but it did. Your flushed cheeks shine with a mix of your makeup, oil, and sweat under the dim lights of the crowded bar. You take his advance towards you as a challenge, maintaining direct eye contact with him, facing each other head-on.

The air between you is thick with unspoken words and lingering tension, the din of the bar fading into the background. You feel your pulse quicken, every heartbeat echoing in your ears. The heat of the summer night seeps into your skin, amplifying the flush on your cheeks.

"Okay.. Well, Y/N, I have to go grab something from your car. Could you come with me to get it?" Beomgyu asks, cutting through the electrified silence.

"Mhm," you say lowly, your voice barely above a whisper as you slowly divert your eyes from Yeonjun, reluctantly breaking the intense gaze to follow Beomgyu's figure. Yeonjun's pupils following you as you leave.

Once you step outside, you exhale deeply, taking in lungfuls of the fresh night air. "Y/N, what's wrong?" Beomgyu grabs you by the shoulders, his eyes searching yours with deep concern.

"I don't know if I can continue this, Gyu. I'm sorry," you reply honestly, your voice trembling slightly.

"You seem bothered by something. You surprisingly seem to enjoy acting as if we are dating..?" He speaks with a confused expression, which soon shifts to a satisfied smirk. "Not that I'm complaining though. Nari clearly seems annoyed by it. I just thought I'd be the one initiating all the romantic stuff, y'know?"

The truth is, you and Beomgyu are just friends. His recent ex, Nari, and he have been playing this game of complete idiocy, in your terms. They pretend they're just friends, when they're not. Once Beomgyu found out she had moved on already, he had to see her with his replacement himself. So, Beomgyu suggested a double date. Unfortunately, you had to partake in all this to support your dear friend. He also asked you to act clingy towards himself to elicit a reaction from Nari.

"Gyu there's something you should know." You explain how Yeonjun is your ex, and how you've been extra clingy to make it seem as if you're dating Beomgyu, because you wanted to make Yeonjun feel as though you had moved on completely. You keep it short, not mentioning how you believe Yeonjun cheated on you with Nari.

"Oh... wow," he blurts out.

"Yeah. Oh." You repeat, feeling a bit exasperated after throwing all your words out.

"So... both of us are trying to make our exes jealous?" he questions. You both look at each other, sharing a single brain cell, you think, and then burst into laughter.

"How did we reach this level of desperation?" you laugh out, wiping your eyes from the tears of laughter.

You and Beomgyu decide this is the perfect opportunity to get revenge on both your exes and annoy them as much as possible. You carry out the initial plan and both of you plot to make it seem as if you were making out. You rub your lips and smudge your lipstick, using some of it to rub onto Beomgyu's lips and neck. You prepare a dazed, off-kilter look.

The bar was a stifling cocoon of heat, the air so thick and heavy it felt like it was pressing down on you. As you and Beomgyu stepped back inside, the warmth wrapped around you, but it was nothing compared to the searing intensity of Yeonjun’s gaze locking onto yours. His eyes, dark and unreadable, bore into you, a silent challenge simmering beneath the surface. His hand gripped Nari’s waist with a possessive force, fingers digging into her skin as his lips moved against hers with a calculated hunger, each movement deliberate, meant to provoke. The sight sent a jolt of something electric through you, something that made the already heavy air feel suffocating.

You don't know why, but the sight made the bottom of your feet itch to run, the blood in your veins pulse faster, and your hands squeeze shut in anger. Your heart pounds in your ears as a cold fury washes over you, feeling as if your assumptions were proven correct. Still grasping Beomgyu's hand, you walk up to them.

"Oh, sorry, didn’t realise you guys came back already," Yeonjun's voice cuts through the air like a knife, thick with a smirk as he slowly pulls away from Nari’s lips. His tone is casual, but the glint in his eyes is anything but. He’s playing a game—one you’re determined not to lose. You scoff, your chest tightening with a mix of irritation and something more dangerous, something that simmers just beneath the surface.

Nari’s face flushes with embarrassment, a slight tinge of pink crawling up her neck. She shifts uncomfortably, caught in the act. But honestly, what did she expect? Making out with him in public was bound to draw attention. 

You and Beomgyu take your seat on the bar stools.

You weren’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing you falter. You turned to Beomgyu, who seemed almost frozen beside you, his eyes wide with something between shock, jealousy, and anger. "Oh babe, you have something there," you murmured, your voice laced with deliberate sweetness, as you traced your fingers along the marks you had intentionally left on his neck earlier.

You glanced around for a tissue, a small, almost mocking smile curling at the corners of your lips when you found none. Instead, you leaned in closer to Beomgyu, the warmth of his skin radiating against your own, your breath mingling with his. "Excuse me for this," you whispered, your voice dropping into something almost seductive as you pressed your lips against the spot, the heat of your mouth remaining as you licked off the smeared lipstick.

The contact was more intimate than you’d intended, your lips lingering a moment too long, the taste of his skin mixed with the salt of sweat as the heat in the room seemed to only increase. You felt Beomgyu stiffen under your touch, a sharp intake of breath betraying his surprise, his muscles tensing as your tongue traced the curve of his neck, the suction intensifying as you tried to remove the mark, only to replace it with a darker stain—this time unmistakably a hickey.

When you pulled back, you feigned a look of innocent surprise, eyes wide as if you hadn’t meant to leave such a blatant mark. "Oh, oops," you said, your voice lilting with fake carelessness. You caught the way Beomgyu’s pulse was hammering under his skin, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. "We’ll just wipe it off later then," you added with a sly, knowing smile, your gaze sliding back to Yeonjun.

In your peripheral vision, you caught the flash of jealousy in Yeonjun’s eyes, his jaw clenching almost imperceptibly, though he tried to mask it with a tight-lipped grin. Nari was no better—her discomfort was written all over her.

The air around the four of you buzzed with unspoken words, each of you caught in this twisted game of one-upmanship, where the lines between past and present, affection and spite, were becoming increasingly blurred. The temperature in the room seemed to rise even higher, the hot air pressing in on all sides as the tension between you all reached a boiling point.

“W-Woahh, uhh, is it just me, or did it suddenly become scorching in here?” Beomgyu’s voice wavers as he fidgets in his seat, tugging at his collar like the air around him had grown suffocating. “Maybe we should ditch this place and head back to my apartment?” he suggests, forcing a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Your apartment?” Yeonjun’s tone is laced with suspicion, his eyebrow arching. His gaze flicks between you and Beomgyu, a smirk ghosting his lips as he adds, “Not ‘our’ apartment?” The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. Nari, catching onto his tone, chimes in with a voice that mirrors his, a faint hint of accusation, “You two don’t live together?”

“Uhhh…” Beomgyu falters, the weight of their scrutiny pressing down on him. “We don’t. I have a place nearby though. We’re working on moving in together,” you interject, the sweetness in your smile sharp enough to cut. The lie rolls off your tongue with practised ease, but the tightness in Yeonjun’s jaw tells you he’s not fooled.

“And you two?” you continue, your voice deceptively light as you aim to strike a nerve. “Living together already?”

Yeonjun’s response is swift, almost too quick. “We do,” he snaps, his hand tightening possessively around Nari’s waist. There’s a sharpness to his tone that only you can decipher, a silent challenge embedded in his words.

“Wow, that’s fast,” you say. “Considering you only started dating.. two years ago?” The question is a bait, the words dripping with insinuation, daring him to reveal the truth you’ve been suspecting.

Yeonjun’s eyes flash, a storm brewing behind them as he bites out, “She just moved in recently.” His voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it, a defensiveness that gives him away.

“Must be nice,” you murmur, your gaze locking with his. The air between you heavy, the tension thickening with every passing second. The couple in front of you might be wrapped up in their own world, but the intensity of your silent exchange overshadows everything else in the room.

Beomgyu, trying to change the subject, forces an awkward laugh, his voice unnaturally loud. “Well! Drinks are on me tonight, so let’s grab our last round before heading back to my place!” His attempt to lighten the mood falls flat, the awkward enthusiasm only highlighting the discomfort simmering beneath the surface. However, the four of you play along.

You decide against drinking. The night is volatile enough, and you need a clear head to navigate whatever’s coming next. A bottle of water will be your only companion on the ride back.

Meanwhile, Beomgyu and Nari down shots like they’re desperate to drown their problems, the alcohol flowing as easily as the lies between you all. That leaves you and Yeonjun, the only two sober minds in a room full of vague lines and blurred loyalties.

The night ahead looms large, it’s going to be a long night.

You step into the bathroom, the cool water splashing onto your face doing little to quell the fire simmering in your chest. Staring at your reflection, you force yourself to take a breath, running your fingers through your hair to smooth it back into place. The moment is brief, but it’s enough to regain your composure—enough to prepare yourself to face Yeonjun once more.

When you emerge, the table is empty, the lively chatter of the bar fading into the background as your eyes land on the closed glass door. Outside, you catch sight of Yeonjun, his hand on Nari’s waist, guiding her into his car with that infuriatingly effortless grace. Beomgyu stumbles along, clearly too far gone to even stand straight. A sigh escapes you. Of course, it’s up to you to settle the bill now.

But as you approach the bartender, he informs you that Yeonjun has already paid. The notion grates on your nerves, a bitter reminder of the man you once knew. Always the gentleman, even when you wish he wasn’t. You grab your belongings, your mind racing with a mix of irritation and something more confusing, something you refuse to name.

As you prepare to leave, your gaze catches a small, familiar object on the edge of Yeonjun’s seat—a Polaroid photo. Curiosity tugs at you, and you pick it up, but before you can even glance at the image, a voice cuts through your thoughts.

“I believe that’s mine.”

You whip around, your heart leaping into your throat as Yeonjun stands there, his eyes locking onto yours. You freeze, the photo still clutched in your hand, as he steps closer, his presence overwhelming. The table presses against your back, the wall on the other side boxing you in, trapping you with nowhere to go.

He moves closer still, the space between you shrinking until it’s almost nonexistent. His breath fans across your face, and you can’t help but notice how it quickens in sync with your own. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, each inhale brushing against him, and you know he notices—his eyes flicker down, taking in every detail.

Your heart pounds in your ears, the tension between you taut, electric. Yeonjun leans in, his face mere inches from yours, and for a brief, reckless moment, your mind blanks, lost in the proximity, the heat. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he plucks the photo from your hand, but his gaze never wavers, his dark eyes boring into yours.

The silence stretches, heavy and charged. This close, it’s impossible to ignore the magnetism pulling you towards him, the unresolved emotions crackling like a live wire between you. But this isn’t the Yeonjun you fell for—this is the man who betrayed you.

“I…” Your voice falters, coming out more shaky than you’d like. You try again, mustering a semblance of confidence. “I don’t think Nari would like seeing us this close…”

His eyes flicker to your lips, lingering there for a heartbeat too long. “Yeah,” he murmurs, his voice low, laced with something you can’t quite place. “She wouldn’t.”

And just like that, he steps back, the spell broken, leaving you breathless and reeling. He turns on his heel, heading towards the exit, and the moment he’s gone, you feel the air return to your lungs.

You take a few steadying breaths, trying to slow the frantic beating of your heart. The room feels hotter now, the air thick and stifling, every brush of fabric against your skin suddenly unbearable. You close your eyes, grounding yourself before finally following him outside into the cool night air.

You approach Yeonjun’s car, as you approach you catch snippets of the conversation between him and Nari.

“What is he doing in my car?” Yeonjun’s voice is low, tinged with annoyance as he glances at the backseat. You follow his gaze and spot Beomgyu, sprawled out and sound asleep, oblivious to the world. The front passenger seat, littered with Yeonjun’s belongings, leaves no room for anyone else.

Nari, swaying slightly on her feet, slurs her words, “It’s okay, don’t wake him up. I’ll just go to Y/N’s car since there isn’t enough space in yours.” Her eyes notice your figure, and she smiles brightly, pointing at you.

“There she is!” Nari exclaims, her voice overly enthusiastic, and you feel their eyes on you. The intensity of Yeonjun’s gaze is impossible to ignore as it sweeps over your body, staying on you for a little too long.

“Y/N, please drive me to Beomgyu’s place,” Nari says, her words blending together. “I’m sure you know the way, right? If you don’t, I can tell you because I—”

“There isn’t enough space for both Nari and Beomgyu in my car at the moment,” Yeonjun interjects, his tone clipped as he pinches the bridge of his nose, his other hand resting on his hip in a gesture of frustration. “And Nari insists on leaving Beomgyu where he is. So, you’ll have to take her. I’ll follow you.”

“Oh.” You glance at Nari, her expression loose and unconcerned. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine.”

It’s not fine. You do not want to be stuck with the girl your ex cheated on you with. 

With that, you help Nari into your car, the weight of Yeonjun’s stare still heavy on your back as you slip into the driver’s seat. As you pull away, you catch sight of Yeonjun in your rearview mirror, his car trailing close behind.

The car ride is a relentless stream of chatter, Nari’s drunken rambling filling the space between you. Her words tumble out in a jumbled mess, but you let her talk, relieved she isn’t the crying type. Yet, something she says snags your attention.

“Yeonjun told me you almost saw that photo,” she giggles, the sound annoying you. “It would’ve been really bad for him if you did.”

“What? What’s that supposed to mean?” you demand, your grip tightening on the steering wheel. But Nari offers no reply. You glance over, only to find her eyes closed, her breathing even.

No. You need answers.

You reach over and shake her shoulder, your voice sharp as you call her name. “What did you mean by that?”

She stirs, blinking groggily. “Huh? Mean by what?”

Frustration coils in your chest. Her drunken haze is a barrier you can’t seem to break through, and the urgency gnaws at you. Up ahead, a traffic light turns yellow, and without thinking, you press down on the gas pedal, speeding through the intersection. In the rearview mirror, you catch a glimpse of Yeonjun’s car, stopped at the red light, his face a mask of confusion.

Your pulse quickens, the unanswered question burning in your mind. What was in that photo? Why did it matter so much to Yeonjun? The road stretches out before you, but the only thing you can focus on is the mystery hanging over you like a storm cloud, dark and heavy.

—

Yeonjun slams on the brakes at the red light, the sudden stop jolting him out of his thoughts. He stares ahead, torn between chasing after you and staying put, uncertainty gnawing at him. A thud from the back seat snaps him back to the present.

“Ah... damn it...” Beomgyu groans, his voice muffled as he peels his face off the car’s floor, where he’s fallen in his drunken state.

Yeonjun mutters a curse under his breath, his knuckles white as they grip the steering wheel. He shoots a glance at Beomgyu through the rearview mirror, his eyes narrowing at the sight of his ex’s new boyfriend.

“Blame your girlfriend for that,” Yeonjun mutters, unable to keep the venom from his voice.

Beomgyu sluggishly drags himself back onto the seat, his movements slow and uncoordinated. “My girlfriend...?”

Time seems to stretch as the red light stubbornly refuses to change, each second ticking by with agonizing slowness. The tension in the car is thick, the air almost crackling with it. A notification dings on Yeonjun’s phone, momentarily pulling his attention away from the awkward silence.

It’s a message from Nari, and Yeonjun’s brow furrows as he reads it:

‘Stic to right lane & turn right at honey strt’

Yeonjun exhales sharply, the frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. His fingers tap impatiently on the steering wheel, a rapid, nervous rhythm that betrays his inner turmoil. What are you planning?

Beomgyu’s voice, lazy and taunting, cuts through the tense silence. “You know, I’ve only seen Y/N speed through this stop a few times...”

Yeonjun’s gaze shifts to the rearview mirror, locking onto Beomgyu’s reflection. The younger man’s smirk is infuriatingly smug, a glint in his eyes.

“It only happens when she’s in a rush... to get to my apartment.” Beomgyu’s voice drops lower, more suggestive, as he leans back, spreading himself comfortably across the seats. “When she’s in a rush to feel me... on her.” He pauses, watching as Yeonjun’s chest rises and falls with controlled breaths. “...in her.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and provocative. Yeonjun’s jaw clenches, the muscles ticking with barely restrained fury. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles almost popping, the pressure enough to shatter it. The intensity in his eyes as they meet Beomgyu’s in the rearview mirror is scorching, a storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface.

“If... you know what I mean,” Beomgyu adds, his tone dripping with a taunt that cuts deeper than any blade.

Yeonjun’s eyes burn with an icy fire as he stares Beomgyu down, a challenge hanging between them like a drawn sword. The tension is like a bomb, vibrating with the threat of explosion, each man’s pride and desire for dominance clashing in the confined space of the car.

But then, a sharp honk from the car behind shatters the moment, dragging Yeonjun back to the harsh reality of the situation. He blinks, the connection between them severed, and with a muttered curse, he presses down on the gas pedal, hard, as the light finally turns green.

—

Nari’s voice cuts through the atmosphere in the car, her words slurred but her concern evident. “Woah, Y/N, what the hell?” 

"Please text Yeonjun to stick to the right lane throughout the entire road until he reaches 'Honey' street, where he'll need to take a right turn to arrive at Beomgyu's apartment parking." You give her instructions, sounding formal from restraining your true feelings at the moment.

She fumbles with her phone, her drunken fingers struggling to tap out a coherent message. 

‘Stic to right lane & turn right at honey strt’, she manages to sent Yeonjun.

Your mind is elsewhere, clouded with doubt and anger. “You mentioned something earlier... about how it would’ve been bad for Yeonjun if I saw that photo. Why?” Your voice is strained, and without thinking, you wrench the steering wheel to the left, taking a detour that gives you more time for your discussion.

Nari yelps, gripping the seatbelt as the car swerves. “Y/N!” Her voice is tinged with fear, but you barely register it. All you can think about is that photo—what it could mean, what it could reveal.

“Nari,” you snap, your voice tight with desperation. “Tell me right now! Is it a photo of you? Of you two while he was still with me? Is that why it would’ve been bad for him? That bastard!” Your voice breaks, tears stinging your eyes, blurring the road ahead. You blink rapidly, trying to focus, but the emotions are overwhelming.

But instead of the answer you dread, Nari’s laughter fills the car, light and almost mocking. “Y/N... I know you and Yeonjun dated,” she says, her tone a strange mix of amusement and sympathy. “But do you really think he cheated on you? With me?” She pauses, letting the question hang in the air. “It’s a photo of you, Y/N. He shouldn’t be carrying around a picture of his ex while he’s dating someone new, right? That’s why it would’ve been bad for him.”

Her words hit you like a truck, leaving you momentarily breathless. You slow the car, the confusion and shock twisting your stomach into knots. What? That was the last thing you expected her to say. You roll down the window, letting the night air wash over you, trying to calm your racing heart. “Nari... I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Nari sighs softly, her gaze distant as she stares out the window. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Just... don’t tell Yeonjun I said anything, okay?”

“Yeah... of course,” you murmur, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

The rest of the drive is suffocatingly quiet, Nari’s gentle snores the only sound as you’re left alone with your swirling thoughts. The earlier confusion and the anger all blend into a chaotic mess in your mind.

You finally pull into the parking lot, spotting Yeonjun leaning against his car, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He straightens up when he sees you, his eyes narrowing slightly.

You step out of the car, gently helping the now nearly unconscious Nari out as well. There's a silence between you and Yeonjun, as he watches you with an inscrutable gaze.

“Took you long enough,” he mutters, his tone laced with irritation. He rolls his eyes, but you don’t rise to the bait, too drained to engage.

“Where’s Beomgyu?” you ask, ignoring his remark.

Yeonjun’s jaw tightens slightly, but he answers, “He went up to his apartment.”

You nod, guiding Nari towards the building, your mind still reeling from everything that’s happened. But one thing is clear—you’re not done with this conversation. Not by a long shot.

-

Finally, after what feels like an endless climb up the stairs—thanks to the conveniently broken elevator—you reach Beomgyu’s floor. Each step was a reminder of the weight of the night, and you can’t help but let out a breathy, victorious "fucking finally" as you clutch your knees, trying to steady your racing heart. You open Beomgyu’s unlocked door, your hand trembling slightly from the adrenaline over climbing too many steps in a short amount of time.

Yeonjun steps in, carrying Nari effortlessly, with a strong frame. The apartment is cozy, with just enough space for two, yet the intimacy of the setting only adds to the suffocating tension. His eyes sweep over the place, lingering on the personal touches—Beomgyu’s little marks of comfort and style. The kitchen, neat and orderly, the living room inviting with its well-worn sofas surrounding a central table atop a small circular carpet, and finally, his gaze drifts to the door on the right, presumably leading to the bedroom.

You watch him as he gently lays Nari down on the nearest sofa, his movements careful, deliberate. He then returns to the entrance, his hands slowly working on the laces of his shoes, almost like he’s stalling. When he slips off his jockey university sweater, the air seems to thicken, and you can’t help but trace the contours of his body with your eyes, quickly averting them when you feel your cheeks burn with memories better left forgotten.

The room suddenly feels too small, too intimate. Here you are, after everything, sharing the same space as Yeonjun in Beomgyu’s apartment. The thought makes your stomach churn. You shake your head, trying to refocus. Beomgyu—where was he? You need to find him, cling to the present to avoid drowning in the past.

You move towards the bedroom, the light already on, spilling out into the hallway. “Beomgyu? Are you there?” Your voice echoes softly, breaking the stillness.

A response comes from the bathroom, on the right of the room, his voice familiar yet strained, “I’m here…”

Relief washes over you, and you step inside, your earlier tension momentarily forgotten. “You know, it's kind of rude to leave your guests—” The words die in your throat as your gaze lands on Beomgyu, shirtless, hunched over the sink, struggling to apply ointment to a nasty, jagged scratch running down his back.

Your breath hitches as you take in the scene. The sight of him, vulnerable and hurt, ignites a surge of concern that pushes aside everything else. You approach him slowly, your earlier bravado slipping away, replaced by something gentler. “What… happened?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, laced with worry for your friend.

Beomgyu’s reflection in the mirror meets yours, a faint, tired smile tugging at his lips. But it’s the pain in his eyes that catches you off guard, making your heart clench.

“Gyu... what the hell happened?” The words slip out in a frantic whisper as you rush over to him, grabbing the ointment from his trembling hands.

“Nothing,” he mutters, a scoff barely masking the pain in his voice. His eyes are downcast, avoiding yours as if hiding something. You gently begin to apply the ointment to his raw, sensitive skin, your hands trembling slightly as you try to be as careful as possible. But Beomgyu doesn’t even flinch, his body numbed either by alcohol or something far deeper.

“This is not nothing, Beomgyu,” you say firmly, your voice stern with concern. The thought of what—or who—could have caused this flashes through your mind, and an image of Yeonjun surfaces, dark and accusing. A surge of anger pulses through you. Could he have done this? You turn, eyes blazing with determination. “Did Yeonjun do this to you?”

Beomgyu’s eyes roll in exasperation, his head tilting back slightly as if he’s exhausted by the question. “I told you, I don’t care about this scratch, okay?” His voice is flat, devoid of its usual spark, as he pushes himself off the sink and saunters towards his closet, passing by you, searching for a shirt.

You follow him, not willing to let it go, your heart pounding in your chest. From the corner of your eye, you catch Yeonjun standing near Nari, as he hands her a drink you can only assume is water to sober her up, removing a bottle of wine from her other hand. You lower your voice, trying to keep the conversation private. “Beomgyu,” you press, your tone urgent and low, “Did Yeonjun do this?”

“Ugh, yeah, he did, but it’s not what you think. I’m not even mad about it—”

“I hate him.” The words spill out before you can stop them, your voice quivering with raw emotion. You turn on your heel, ready to storm out and confront Yeonjun, the adrenaline surging through you like fire. But Beomgyu’s hand catches your arm, his grip firm yet pleading.

“Y/N, stop,” he says, his voice cutting through your anger like a knife. “It was my fault. I riled him up... it’s complicated.” His eyes drop, the weight of whatever he’s holding back pulling him down.

Your anger deflates, replaced by a heavy sadness. You move closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm, your mind racing to piece together what could have driven Beomgyu to such a state. “Is it... Nari? Is that what this is about?”

At the mention of her name, his expression crumbles, the facade he’s been holding up finally breaking. His shoulders slump, and he nods, the pain evident in every line of his face. “I think it’s over... between us. She seems to really have moved on.” His voice is barely a whisper, thick with unshed tears as he clings to your arm.

You remember Nari’s words in the car about Yeonjun keeping a photo of you. The thought of it makes your heart twist in your chest. How could they be in a genuine relationship if Yeonjun hasn't let go of the past? “Don’t be so sure, Gyu,” you murmur softly, a small smile tugging at your lips as you turn to him. There’s a flicker of hope in your chest—hope for Beomgyu and Nari, though you’re unsure what it means for you and Yeonjun.

Beomgyu looks up at you, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, his vulnerability laid bare. “What makes you say that?” he asks, his voice trembling with both fear and hope.

You smile down at him, tenderly wiping away a tear that escapes from the corner of his eye. “Just trust me,” you whisper, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter closed at the contact, and you pull him into a hug, wrapping your arms around his head, cradling him like something precious. “You’ll see, Gyu,” you murmur, swaying gently back and forth, trying to soothe the storm inside him.

You hear a cough behind you and turn to find Yeonjun and Nari standing awkwardly in the doorway. Their presence feels like an intrusion, but you quickly move away from Beomgyu, who hastily wipes away any lingering tears, trying to compose himself.

"Um, I kind of made a mess outside and... was wondering if I could use your shower?" Nari asks, her voice small and hesitant as she clutches her soaked shirt. It’s only then that you notice the wine stains covering her clothes. Yeonjun, on the other hand, looks dry, but his eyes are averted, and he huffs before turning and leaving the room without a word.

"Yeah, of course," Beomgyu responds, standing up to lead Nari to the bathroom. You decide to give them some space, hoping that maybe this moment alone is what they need to work things out.

As the door closes behind them, the apartment falls into a heavy silence, broken only by the distant murmur of Beomgyu and Nari’s voices. You turn back to the living room and see Yeonjun bent over, scrubbing a wine stain off the floor. Relief washes over you that the spill didn’t hit the carpet or the couch, but then your eyes land on the table—your paper, drenched in crimson liquid.

“No...” You rush over, your heart sinking as you pick up your soaked assignment, trying to salvage what little remains. The paper disintegrates in your hands, the ink smudging and bleeding until there’s nothing left but a soggy mess between your fingers. The frustration and anger bubble up inside you, your eyes squeezing shut as you try to hold back on your anger.

When you open them, you see Yeonjun, still cleaning, completely ignoring your disaster. You didn’t expect an apology, but his indifference stings more than any words could. And perhaps you mixing your own personal emotions when you said your next words, but they had come out more hurtful than intended.

“Hey, jackass.” The words fly out of your mouth, sharp and biting, aimed at Yeonjun’s turned back. He stops and slowly turns to you, his expression one of mild annoyance. He doesn’t say anything, just waits for you to continue.

“Were you just standing there like a useless idiot when she knocked over the wine?” you snap, your voice dripping with contempt.

Yeonjun scoffs, his eyes narrowing as he straightens up and takes a step towards you, the air between you crackling with unresolved feelings. He doesn’t speak, just watches you, his gaze challenging and unyielding.

“Are you mute as well as useless?” you bite out, your anger flaring as you meet his eyes, refusing to back down. His silence is infuriating, and you can feel the rage boiling over, threatening to spill out in ways you can’t control. In the background, you hear the bathroom shower begin, the sound pulling you back to the present moment, grounding you in the here and now. And right now, you were angry.

“Fuck’s sake!” You slam your hands down on the table, the impact sending droplets of wine splattering across the surface and onto your hands, staining them red. “I’ve been trying so hard to be civil with you, but you don’t even try. You’re just... unbearable.” Your voice cracks with frustration, the words spilling out in a torrent of pent-up emotion.

Yeonjun lifts an eyebrow, a smug expression creeping onto his face, as if he’s amused by your outburst. That look—the one he always gives when he thinks he’s above it all—pushes you over the edge.

“And that!” you hiss, leaning in closer, pointing a trembling finger at him. “That exact face you make when something doesn’t please the almighty Yeonjun. You’re a fucking bastard, Yeonjun. You lie, you fight, you ruin everything good, and you cheat.”

At this, he grabs your hand, his grip firm. “Cheat?” His voice is low, dangerous, his eyes burning into yours with a mixture of anger and disbelief. “For fuck’s sake, Y/N, you broke up with me. Didn’t even have the decency to tell me why. And now you’re here, accusing me of cheating? Is that really why you left me?”

You glare back at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “No, it wasn’t. But I’m sure you did, Yeonjun. With Nari.”

His face falls for a split second, the anger faltering as a flash of hurt crosses his features. He stumbles back slightly, his hands dropping to his sides. “Wow...” he breathes, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “This is just... great.”

He looks at you for a moment longer, before shaking his head in disbelief. “Yeah, I’m not dealing with this shit.” He grabs his keys and wallet off the table, heading for the door with long, angry strides. The door slams behind him with a force that reverberates through the apartment, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, reeling from what just happened.

“Fuck...” you whisper to yourself, the weight of the argument settling on your shoulders. You know you should just let him go, but something inside you refuses to leave things like this. Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you rush after him, leaving behind your pride. Maybe, just maybe, it’s time to hear his side of the story.

As you hurry down the stairs, your footsteps echo in the stairwell, amplifying your growing desperation. You spot Yeonjun far ahead, his figure a shadow in the dimly lit space. “Yeonjun!” Your voice is firm, laced with the urgency of everything unsaid. But he doesn’t respond, his pace steady and unrelenting.

Bursting out of the building, you speed-walk after him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeonjun!” you shout, your voice cracking with frustration and anger. He continues to ignore you, his focus entirely on his car as he throws his belongings into the passenger seat with a controlled fury. You scurry over, desperation driving your steps, and grab his arm just as he reaches for the door handle. “Yeonjun…”

He shakes your hand off with a harsh flick, his movements sharp, and slides into the driver’s seat. You move without thinking, planting yourself directly in front of his car, the headlights casting long shadows behind you. The weight of your actions hits you as he honks, the sound jarring in the empty parking lot.

You’re the one who ended it, so why are you here now, standing in his way, demanding answers you thought you never wanted before?

With a final, angry honk, Yeonjun’s patience snaps. He explodes out of the car, slamming the door so hard the sound echos in the parking lot. His eyes blaze with barely contained anger as he strides toward you, his hands gripping your arms with a force that borders on painful.

“YN, seriously. What do you want?” His voice is a low growl, each word dripping with the frustration and pain he’s held back for too long.

“Yeonjun, I just want to hear your side.” Your voice trembles, your previous tone slipping away as the reality of the situation crashes over you.

He pauses, another bitter laugh escaping his lips as he looks down, shaking his head. “My side?” His voice is laced with incredulity. “You’re two years late, YN.”

Desperation claws at you. “Then tell me now—did you cheat on me with Nari?”

His gaze snaps back to you, eyes narrowed. “No. And for fuck’s sake…” He looks away, running a hand through his hair, the movement jerky, frustrated. “We’re not even dating, YN. She’s just a friend. Believe that or don’t—I don’t care anymore.” His voice drips with a mixture of exhaustion and disdain. “Happy now?”

“Yeonjun…” The word is a broken whisper, a mix of confusion and the lingering echoes of mistrust.

He whips his head back towards you, the anger flaring up again. “YN, you don’t get to say my name. Not.. like that. Not anymore.”

“But, Yeonjun—” You’re cut off by the intensity of his gaze as he takes a deep breath, his hands trembling as they reach for your face. He hesitates for a moment before cradling your cheeks gently, a stark contrast to the turmoil in his eyes.

“No, YN, you don’t understand.” His voice cracks, the anger giving way to a raw, vulnerable pain that takes you by surprise. “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through these two years? After you?” His words hang in the air, each one weighted with years of buried emotions. “Do you know that after you just deserted me like we were nothing, I locked myself away for weeks? Do you know that, YN?” His voice rises, the tears welling up in his eyes breaking free.

You feel your own tears threatening to spill over as you listen, the weight of his pain crushing you. “Do you?” he presses, his voice dropping to a whisper, as though the admission itself is too much to bear. “Of course you don’t. You blocked me on everything. You erased me from your life as if we never existed.”

A tear slips down his cheek, and he quickly wipes it away, his composure crumbling. “I know I wasn’t perfect. We weren’t perfect. But we were trying, we were learning. And then you just gave up. You gave up on us, on me.”

His breath is warm against your face, contrasting sharply with the cool night air. “I’d like to know your side, YN. Why? What made you break up with me?”

Your eyes blur with tears, each blink sending droplets cascading down your cheeks. His face is so close now, his presence overwhelming. “Hm?” he murmurs, his voice softening as he leans in, his lips brushing the side of your cheek in a featherlight kiss. “Why?”

He moves across your face, leaving a trail of kisses, each one a question, each one a plea. “How?” Another kiss, his breath hot against your skin. “How could you leave me for that kid?”

Your mind races, the past and present colliding in a storm of emotions. You should answer him, give him the closure he deserves, but your voice is trapped in your throat. You realize now that you were wrong—so wrong about Yeonjun.

He pauses, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath mingling with yours. His large hand snakes around your back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. He holds you there, his grip firm but gentle, as if afraid that letting go would mean losing you all over again.

Yeonjun’s voice drops to a whisper, his eyes searching yours with a tenderness that’s almost heartbreaking. “Tell me, YN,” he pleads, his gaze locked onto yours, desperate and vulnerable. The world around you seems to pause as you both stand there, holding onto each other like lifelines, lost in the moment.

Just as you gather the strength to answer, Yeonjun shakes his head, a pained expression crossing his face. “No... actually. I don’t want to know. I don’t care,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. The abrupt change in his demeanor leaves you confused, your eyebrows knitting together as you try to process his words.

“Just tell me one thing,” he whispers, his breath hitching as he stares at your lips, then flicks his eyes back to yours. “C-can I kiss you?”

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at something deep within you. “Jun…” His name falls from your lips, barely audible, as if you’re testing the sound of it. You clear your throat, trying to steady yourself. “Yeonjun,” you breathe. You look into his eyes, seeing beyond just your reflection and his dark magnetising pupils, and into the raw, unfiltered desperation. Yeonjun truly loves you—there’s no denying it now.

You inhale sharply, the reality of the moment crashing down on you. “Y-yes,” you whisper, the word barely escaping your lips, but it’s enough.

Before you can take another breath, his lips crash into yours, and the world around you disappears. The kiss is urgent, almost frantic, as if he’s afraid this moment will slip away if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. There’s no grace in it—only raw emotion, the kind that has been building for years, waiting to burst.

You melt into him, savouring everything about him—the taste of his lips, the scent of his skin, the way his body presses against yours with both tenderness and urgency. Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him.

The kiss intensifies, becoming rougher, more desperate, as if the years apart have created a hunger that neither of you can control. His hands move with a purpose, lifting you effortlessly onto the trunk of his car, the cold metal beneath you a stark contrast to the heat of his touch.

Everything is happening so fast, too fast, but your body reacts instinctively, arching into him as he presses against you, his hips grinding into your clothed core. A gasp escapes your lips, breaking the kiss, but he doesn’t stop. His mouth trails down your neck, leaving a burning path of kisses and fresh red marks that make your skin tingle.

“Junnie…” you breathe out, your voice trembling with a mix of emotions—desire, uncertainty, and the lingering fear that this might not be the way to mend what was broken. But Yeonjun is relentless, his focus entirely on you, on this moment, as if nothing else matters.

You’re caught in the whirlwind of his passion, your thoughts spinning as fast as your heart. Is this the right way to rekindle what you once had? The question lingers in the back of your mind, but it’s drowned out by the intensity of Yeonjun’s determination. He’s here, he’s real, and right now, he’s all that you can think about.

Yeonjun’s breath hitches as he presses closer to you, his voice dropping to a low, desperate whisper. “YN, I need you... fuck,” he groans, the hardness beneath his pants pressing against you as his hand slowly slides up your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His lips pause against your skin, and he murmurs, “Need you to say you need me too.”

Your mind is hazy, drunk on the intoxicating feel of his lips worshipping every inch of you. The words barely escape your mouth, a soft, breathless, “Need you too,” as your fingers tangle in his hair, nails gently raking over his scalp, eliciting a low hum of satisfaction from him.

His grip tightens around your legs, guiding them to wrap around his waist with a possessive urgency. “No need to be so shy,” he whispers, the corner of his mouth curling into a playful smirk that you can feel against your skin as he peppers your face with kisses. In one swift motion, he lifts you effortlessly and opens the back passenger door, the cool night air brushing against your heated skin.

Clinging to him tightly, he gently lays you down on the seat, your back sinking into the plush leather. Your eyes drift over his body, taking in every detail—the veins standing out against his skin from the strain of holding you, the way his hair sticks to the beads of sweat on his forehead. Your hand reaches up, brushing his hair back, leaving it slightly slicked as he kisses his way down to your collarbone, his tongue tracing circles that make you squirm beneath him.

He finally pulls back, his eyes dark and intense as he studies your face, his arms braced on either side of you, framing your face. For a moment, he just watches you, a strand of his hair falling out of place, and it’s the second hottest thing you’ve ever seen. The first is the sight of him as he pulls away, sitting up, leaning back against the window with his legs spread wide, his gaze smouldering as he taps his lap, silently inviting you to crawl over and cradle him.

But you’ve got something better in mind. Words fail you, but your actions won’t. You sit up slowly, turning to face him before lowering your upper body, arching your back and lifting your hips as you move toward his lap.

Yeonjun’s eyebrow arches in surprise, a smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you. “Wanna make you feel good, Junnie,” you coo, your voice soft and teasing as you gaze up at him through your lashes. The sight of you like this makes his heart race, his pulse quickening as his desire for you intensifies.

You lick your lips, the anticipation building as you balance yourself on his lap, your fingers deftly undoing his belt. Your eyes never leave his, the connection between you electric as you slowly slide his pants down, your gaze locked on his, every movement deliberate and charged with tension.

As you slide his pants off, your eyes widen at the sight of him. His hardness stands tall, pressing against his stomach, a stain of wetness seeping through the fabric of his boxers by his tip. A wicked grin spreads across your face as you reach out, your finger lightly brushing the spot where he’s leaking. He hisses, his eyes locked on yours, watching your every move with an intensity that sends a thrill down your spine.

You trace the outline of his length with your fingernail, feeling the hard, pulsing veins beneath the thin fabric. The sensation drives him wild, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. You press down, earning a chorus of hisses and groans that only fuel your desire. Your palm flattens against him, moving slowly over the length of his boxer-clad heat. You can’t help but lick your lips, practically drooling at the thought of having him in your mouth.

Lifting your thumb, you press it against his tip, feeling the warmth and wetness beneath. But before you can go further, his hand snaps to your wrist, gripping it tightly as he lets out a low, guttural groan. “Stop playing,” he growls, the sound rough and commanding, sending a shiver of excitement through you.

You smirk, your eyes sparkling with mischief, and he knows exactly what you’re thinking. Slowly, teasingly, you lower your hands to the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down. Your eyes dilate at the sight before you—his full length, hard and ready, standing proud.

Wasting no time, you wrap your hand around him, feeling the weight and heat of him in your grasp. You pump him a few times, eliciting a deep groan from his throat, before you lean in, your tongue darting out to gently flick across his tip like a teasing kitten. The sensation is too much for him to bear, and his hands fly to your hair, tangling in the strands.

When you take him fully into your mouth, enveloping him in your warm, soft lips, he loses control. His grip on your hair tightens as he lets out a strangled gasp. “S-shit,” he stammers, his voice strained with pleasure. “Only I should see you like this, hm?” His hands tug at your hair, lifting your head so he can look into your eyes, the intensity of his gaze nearly overwhelming.

You groan deeply, the sound vibrating through your body and into his, drawing a low moan from Yeonjun. Your tongue works expertly around his length, flicking and swirling over the sensitive head, teasing the skin where it meets the shaft. With Yeonjun’s impressive size, you’re able to take him into your mouth while your hand wraps around the base, moving in sync with your mouth in smooth, circular motions. Your wrist twists with each stroke, ensuring he feels every bit of your attention.

The car fills with a symphony of lewd, wet sounds—the slickness of your efforts combined with his, the steady rhythm of sucking, and the occasional slurp as you work him over. It’s a soundscape pulled straight from the most explicit fantasies, made even more intense by his deep, throaty groans and the filth he whispers under his breath. Your own body responds involuntarily, heat pooling between your legs, your core aching with need, practically dripping from the sheer eroticism of the moment.

“Uhhh, fuck… I’m… fucki-ng close,” he pants, his voice strained with pleasure. He squirms slightly, adjusting his position as he grips your head with a possessive intensity. Despite the pressure, the fact that he’s now thrusting into your mouth keeps you steady, your focus entirely on him.

Yeonjun shifts, planting one knee on the leather seat between your legs for balance while the other foot remains on the floor. You instinctively adjust as well, spreading your knees wider, your toes curling as they press into the seat beneath you. Your upper body remains steady as he takes control, thrusting faster and deeper, each movement more urgent than the last.

“Does… he—” He grunts, thrusting sloppily, “Does his cock taste… or feel half as good as mine?” The words are edged with jealousy and possessiveness, but you’re unable to respond, your entire mouth and throat occupied by his cock. Your hands clutch at his bare thighs for support. Your glossy eyes meet his, tears threatening to spill as his length hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly. He looks down, his expression one of dominance, searching your eyes as if expecting an answer, though he knows you can’t give one.

“Thought so,” he murmurs, smirking at his own satisfaction, his voice dripping with self-assurance. A low, breathless laugh escapes him. “Fuuuuck…” The syllables draw out, his head falling back as his movements grow more erratic and sloppy. “Take your shirt off, now,” he demands, his voice rough with need.

Without hesitation, your hands move faster than your thoughts, peeling the fabric from your body. As you lift your shirt over your head, his length slips from your mouth with a distinctive ‘pop,’ leaving you breathless. You toss the shirt aside, quickly unclipping your bra, letting it fall to the floor of the car.

Yeonjun’s eyes are locked onto you, his hand furiously pumping himself, his breathing ragged as he watches. With a few final strokes, he comes undone, his release shooting out in thick, warm spurts onto your bare chest. The force of it has him throwing his head back, a loud, extended “fuck” tearing from his throat as his body shudders with the intensity of his climax.

Visibly spent but far from satisfied, Yeonjun’s dark, lustful gaze locks onto your cum-streaked body, his breath heavy and ragged. You expect him to take a moment to recover, but instead, he commands through his labored breaths, “Undress. All of it.” His voice is low, dripping with desire, sending a shiver down your spine.

Driven by the hunger in his eyes, you quickly discard your pants, leaving only your underwear clinging to your skin. Meanwhile, Yeonjun tears off his shirt, revealing his sculpted, sweat-slicked torso. As you finish, he’s already on you, your bodies colliding, sticky with sweat and remnants of his release. His arms encircle you tightly, his intense gaze boring into yours as he lowers you onto the seat, his body hovering, exuding dominance.

The moment his weight lifts from you, the cum that once joined your bodies drips back onto your chest, and you catch the glint of dark amusement in his eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he dips his head, tongue darting out to gather his droplets, then hovers above you. His fingers gently pry your lips open, and he lets the cum drop from his mouth onto your outstretched tongue. “Taste me,” he whispers, the command seeping into your skin as his mouth crashes onto yours, deepening the connection in a slow, fervent kiss.

His hand slides up your body, smearing the evidence of his release over your skin. The warmth of his palm, the deliberate pinch of your nipple, sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, making you arch into his touch. He breaks the kiss, moving his mouth down your chest, his tongue and lips worshipping your flesh, savoring the mixture of sweat and his essence.

Each flick of his tongue over your nipples, each gentle tug, ignites a fire within you, leaving you squirming beneath him. But his firm grip on you ensures your movements are minimal, controlled, just as he likes it. His lips continue their descent, marking your skin with purples and reds, a visual testament to his possession.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the skin just above your underwear, “how much I missed this.” His words, coupled with the sensation of his mouth and hands, make you whimper, your desire pooling between your thighs.

As his face reaches your thighs, he kisses the tender flesh there, his hands caressing you, teasing you. When he finally positions himself over your core, his eyes meet yours with a devilish smile, and without another word, he lowers his mouth to your most sensitive spot.

Yeonjun’s tongue flattens against your soaked underwear, teasing your core with deliberate, languid strokes. His mouth explores every contour of your folds, shaping them with expert precision, each movement sending a ripple of pleasure through your body. A helpless whimper escapes your lips, your breath hitching as his tongue presses firmly against the center of your desire. He pushes against your entrance, the fabric of your underwear creating a tantalising barrier, before he uses the hard edge of his bottom teeth to graze upward along your sensitive flesh, drawing out a sharp gasp from you.

You can’t help but lower your gaze, watching him intently, eyes locked on his every movement. He meets your gaze, his eyes dark with lust, as he takes the waistband of your underwear between his teeth, slowly pulling them down, the fabric dragging across your skin until it’s finally discarded with a flick of his head. The sight of him, smirking with your underwear still between his teeth, sends a shiver down your spine.

Without hesitation, he dives back between your thighs, his tongue finding its way to the inside of your folds, massaging them with a fervor that makes your entire body quake. He licks and flicks at your entrance, his tongue reaching deeper than you thought possible for a tongue, drawing out moans and gasps from you. His rough thumb finds your clit, rubbing it with just enough friction to make you writhe beneath him. The dry texture of his thumb against your sensitive bud amplifies every sensation, and your legs instinctively lift, disrupting his rhythm.

But Yeonjun’s resolve is unwavering. His strong hands grip your thighs, pinning them in place as he growls a warning, “Stay still, sweetie.” His voice is thick with desire, his focus entirely on pleasuring you. “Mhm and how sweet you taste,” he murmurs against your skin, making your face flush with heat. You turn your head to the side, embarrassed by his praise, but unable to suppress the pleasure coursing through you.

His tongue circles your clit with calculated pressure, and you become a moaning mess beneath him. Just when you think you can’t take any more, he slides a finger inside you, his touch skilled and unyielding. “Can’t believe someone else heard these sounds from you,” he mutters, his voice low. The words send a thrill through you, intensifying the ache building inside you.

Yeonjun glances up, admiring the sight before him—your flushed face framed by your heaving chest, the curve of your body leading to the apex of your desire. His own arousal pulses with need, but he stays focused on your pleasure, adding another finger and curling them inside you while his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit. His other hand finds your breast, kneading it with just enough pressure to make you arch into his touch.

The sensations are overwhelming, pushing you closer to the edge. Your cries grow louder, more desperate, and you call out his name, “J-jun-ie, I’m so close, I—ah!” The words spill from your lips, half-whined, half-sobbed. He seizes the moment, his voice a seductive purr as he asks, “Who do you belong to, YN? Who?” His question is punctuated by deep, consuming kisses, his lips never leaving your body.

“Yeonjun, Yeonjunnn, Yeonjunnnn,” you whimper, his name tumbling from your lips over and over, each repetition more desperate than the last. Your voice quivers, caught between pleasure and urgency, barely coherent as you’re overwhelmed by sensation. Though unsure if you’re truly responding to his question or lost in the throes of ecstasy, he chooses to believe your words are an affirmation, a declaration of belonging that feeds his need to claim you. The satisfaction inside his chest deepens, even as a flicker of uncertainty lingers, making your submission all the more intoxicating.

As the pleasure crests, you come undone around him, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. Yeonjun’s jaw never slackens, his tongue and lips working to capture every drop of you, pushing you past the point of overstimulation until your body is trembling from the intensity.

You have to physically push him off you to break the contact with your core. Both of you are gasping, his breaths ragged as though he forgot to breathe while he was lost in you. His lips are red, plump, and swollen from their relentless work.

He sits up, still catching his breath, and swipes his tongue across his lips before wiping away the lingering moisture. “Need you, Yeonjun,” you murmur, thighs pressing together, desperate for some relief. “You think you’re ready?” he teases, his voice laced with playful challenge. “Mhm,” you reply instantly, the desperation clear in your tone.

He chuckles at your eagerness, reclining back into the spot he occupied earlier when you were blowing him, his head resting against the window, his body relaxed. “Then show me how ready you are.” His words fuel your need, and despite the lingering tremors in your legs from your climax, you move to straddle him, your bodies pressing together, warmth meeting warmth. Your core hovers just above his hardness, and as you begin to lower yourself, his hands grip your hips, guiding you to rub against him instead. The sensation sends a shiver through you, and soon you’re grinding against him, your movements instinctive, fueled by need. The air fills with the sound of your shared curses, the intensity of the moment overwhelming.

“Need you so badly, Jun...” you almost beg, your hips moving of their own accord. He meets your pleading gaze and releases his hold on your hips, granting you the freedom you crave. Without hesitation, you lift yourself slightly and take hold of him, aligning his length with your aching core. Your hand finds his shoulder for support as you slowly sink down, enveloping him fully.

The sensation defies description, the delicious stretch of his length inside you making your head fall back, eyes rolling in pure bliss. Instinctively, you lean into his embrace, his arms wrapping around you, hands soothingly caressing your back as he waits for your next move.

“All good, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice soft with concern as his fingers gently brush your hair aside, his eyes searching for yours.

“Mhm, so good...” you whisper, your nails digging into his shoulders. His laughter rumbles through his chest, a sound of satisfaction that makes you feel even more connected to him. Gathering your strength, you begin to ride him, each movement slow and deliberate at first, your focus entirely on the sensation of him filling you. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, muffling your moans as you concentrate on keeping your pace steady.

But Yeonjun isn’t satisfied with silence. He slips a finger between your lips, prying them open. “I want to hear you,” he whispers, his eyes pleading. With your mouth now free, your moans spill out, unrestrained. “Fuck, Yeonjun, so good,” you choke out, your pace quickening, your eyebrows knitting together in pure pleasure. His groans beneath you are a clear sign that he’s just as lost in the sensation.

He pulls you closer, his hand gripping the nape of your neck as he brings your face inches from his, his eyes piercing into yours. “You ride me so well, sweetheart,” he murmurs before pressing a rough kiss to your lips. “Do you ride him like this?” His voice drops lower, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip, “Is his cock as good as mine?”

Your rhythm falters as his words sink in, your movements growing more erratic. Noticing your fatigue, Yeonjun takes control, his hands firmly gripping your hips as he lays you back against the leather seat, his cock still buried deep inside you. Your breath comes in short gasps, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer as if you could meld your bodies into one.

His hair falls forward, framing his intense gaze, his lips tugged into a dark, signature smirk. The sight of him, so utterly captivating, makes your heart ache with a longing you hadn’t realised was still there. As he begins to move, his hips driving into you with renewed vigor, your back arches off the seat, your body instinctively responding to the pleasure. “I missed this, Yeon...” you manage to moan out, “Jun...”

He laughs softly, though there’s a bitter edge to it, one you’re too lost in pleasure to notice. His mind drifts, remembering the pain of your separation, the doubts that plagued him. “Does he fuck you like this?” he mutters, though his voice is strained, not truly expecting an answer. “Does he leave marks like these?” His fingers press against the bruises he left earlier, his touch possessive.

“Does he make you moan like this?” His hand wraps around your throat, his grip tightening slightly, the question more of a growl than a whisper, his eyes glossing over with a mix of pain and desire. It’s as if he’s losing himself, too wrapped up in the physical to recognise the emotional turmoil beneath it all.

But you bring him back. Your hands cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that’s both tender and fierce, grounding him in the present. When you pull away, your eyes lock onto his, your fingers brushing away the tear that slips down his cheek, a stark contrast to the rough rhythm of his thrusts.

“No, Yeonjun. No one else,” you say firmly, your voice carrying a truth that he can’t deny. He searches your gaze, looking for any hint of a lie, but all he finds is sincerity. A sigh of relief escapes him, his grip on your throat loosening.

“I’m sorry, love,” he murmurs, his tone filled with regret as he dips his head, his hands moving to cradle your hips. “Let me make it up to you.” His voice is soft, his mind now focused on one thing: making you feel every ounce of love he still holds for you. His thrusts become more deliberate, aiming to hit that perfect spot inside you with each movement, his eyes locked onto your face as your moans create a symphony of pleasure.

The car rocks with the intensity of his movements, the sounds of skin against skin filling the small space. “I’m close, Yeonjun,” you gasp out, your arms clinging to him as if he were your only anchor in a storm of sensations.

He doesn’t relent, his pace constant, his dirty words whispered against your skin sending your mind into a spin. You wrap yourself around him, holding on as you reach your peak, your body trembling with the force of your release. It’s not just the release of tonight’s tension, but of all the pent-up emotions from the years you spent apart.

Yeonjun isn’t far behind, his release coming in powerful waves as he fills you completely. The car falls silent, the only sounds left are your breaths and the gentle hum of the night outside. His arms remain tightly wrapped around you, as if he’s afraid to let go, as if holding you will keep you here, with him.

Slowly, he pulls back, his movements gentle as he slips out of you, your body shuddering at the sudden emptiness. A mix of your juices leaks out, and Yeonjun can’t resist lowering his head to lick at your sensitive core, cleaning up the mess he made. You squirm beneath him, overstimulated, but he’s quick to finish, his lips leaving your skin with a final, tender kiss.

Reaching into the front seat, he grabs a small blanket and drapes it over your bodies. He props your head up on his jacket, fashioned into a makeshift pillow, before lying down beside you. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, his body warm against yours as you both settle into the comfortable silence.

Exhausted and sated, neither of you speaks. You just lie there, naked under the blanket, wrapped in each other’s arms. Whatever tomorrow brings, whatever questions about your relationship remain unanswered, they can wait. Tonight, you sleep in the warmth of each other’s embrace, content for the first time in a long while.

-

The next morning, you’re startled awake by the loud, chirpy voice of Beomgyu, laughing and saying something you’re too tired to comprehend. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the brightness of the morning. The first thing you see is Beomgyu, snapping pictures of you and Yeonjun, who are tangled up on the cramped seat of Yeonjun’s car. Beside him, Nari is laughing, playfully slapping his arm to make him stop.

Yeonjun stirs beside you, groaning at the noise and the light streaming in. He notices your movement and is greeted with the same sight—Beomgyu dancing around outside the window, grinning like a fool. Yeonjun lets out another groan, clearly unimpressed.

Beomgyu, ever the mischief-maker, pulls Nari close, pressing her against him in a mock imitation of what you two had been doing last night. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore his antics. “Good morning,” you mutter to Yeonjun, deciding to focus on him instead of Beomgyu’s immaturity. From the way Nari and Beomgyu are behaving, you can only assume their night went just as well.

But as you sit up, still wrapped in the warmth of the blanket, you’re hit with a wave of confusion. Were Yeonjun and Nari really just friends then? The thought leaves you unsettled, and Yeonjun’s expression mirrors your confusion. What was actually going on?

You shoo away Beomgyu with a wave of your hand, and Nari drags Beomgyu away with a grin. Yeonjun slowly sits up, reaching for his clothes scattered on the floor. “Morning,” he replies, his voice stiff, as if unsure of what to say.

You both dress in the peaceful silence that falls after Beomgyu’s departure, the morning air now calm. Once fully clothed, Yeonjun opens the car door, letting in a refreshing breeze. He steps out, stretches, and then offers you his hand. You take it, grateful for his support as you struggle to stand upright.

He leads you to the entrance of the apartment, where Beomgyu is waiting with his usual devilish grin. “Don’t worry, lovebirds,” he says, tapping the elevator beside him with a wink. “Elevators are fixed, just for you two.” If you had the energy, you’d probably smack him, but you’re too drained to even try.

The four of you wait for the elevator, and when it arrives, you all step in. The ride up is awkward, the tension of unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. “So…” Nari finally speaks, breaking the silence. She clears her throat, glancing between you and Yeonjun. “Um, just so you know, Yeonjun and I were never really dating. We’re just friends. That kiss at the bar last night? Was the first and last time.”

You turn to look at her, slightly surprised. “Oh… I see.”

“Yeah,” she continues, her voice lightening. “Honestly, I brought Yeonjun to make Beomgyu jealous. That’s all.” She laughs, and you can’t help but join in. After all, Beomgyu basically did the same thing.

“And Beomgyu told me about you guys,” Nari adds, her laughter infectious. Yeonjun, who has been silent until now, finally turns to face her, his interest piqued.

“Oh… Did she not tell you yet?” Beomgyu asks, looking between the two of you, confused. “No?” Yeonjun replies, equally confused.

Just as another question is about to be asked, the elevator doors slide open, and Beomgyu and Nari quickly exit, eager to escape the tension. You and Yeonjun follow, your body leaning against him for support as you’re still feeling the aftereffects of last night.

Inside Beomgyu’s apartment, Yeonjun gently sets you down on the couch and helps you remove your shoes. “We’ll be in the bedroom for, uh, a few seconds,” Beomgyu says with a grin, pointing between himself and Nari.

“Uh-huh,” Yeonjun responds, still perplexed. As the two disappear into the bedroom, you’re left alone with Yeonjun, and now is the perfect time to clear the air.

You turn to face him, gathering your thoughts. “Yeonjun.” He gives you his full attention, his expression serious. “Beomgyu and I were never dating either. He’s actually my friend from kindergarten…”

You pause, watching his reaction. “Beomgyu wanted to see Nari again, and this was his dumb idea to make it happen. He didn’t even know we were exes. It was just a crazy coincidence that we both ended up here.”

“And we’ve never done anything like… that,” you add, your voice softening. He knows exactly what you mean. “Ever since we broke up,” you continue, licking your lips nervously, “I haven’t even taken any interest to another guy. I haven’t moved on. I couldn’t.”

His face remains unreadable, but you can see the wheels turning in his mind. “Yeonjun, breaking up with you was my biggest mistake,” you admit, your voice wavering. “I was dealing with so much in my own head, and we were younger, and I didn’t realize how much our relationship meant. I thought it was holding me back, but I was blind to all the good parts.”

He sighs, his chest rising and falling as he processes your words. His eyes drop to the floor, lost in thought. You move closer, gently cupping his cheek with your hand. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your thumb brushing against his skin. “For wasting so much time, for hurting you.”

You hesitate before adding, “I understand if you’re not ready to get back together—”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice firm. He lifts his head, meeting your gaze. “No, I want to get back together. It’s what I’ve needed for the past two years, Y/N.” His words bring a smile to your face, and he takes your hand in his. “And if you’re ready, I’d like to start fresh. Better than before.”

“I’d love that, Yeonjun,” you reply, your heart swelling with relief. He leans in, his lips meeting yours in a gentle, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes still closed. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispers.

“I love you too, Yeonjun,” you respond, and the two of you stay like that for a moment, savoring the closeness.

Suddenly, your moment is interrupted by a loud moan from the bedroom. “Oh, Beomgyu!” The sound is unmistakable, and you and Yeonjun snap your eyes open, exchanging shocked looks before bursting into laughter. Yeonjun’s signature laugh fills the room, his eyes squinting into crescents as his eyebrows shoot up in a mix of shock and amusement.

“Fuckkk,” Beomgyu’s voice echoes through the walls, followed by the undeniable sound of skin slapping against skin. “Oh gosh, let’s get out of here,” you say, scrambling to get off the couch, your face flushed with embarrassment.

Yeonjun agrees, quickly putting on his shoes. “You like that, huh?” Beomgyu’s voice continues, and you and Yeonjun exchange horrified glances as you both rush to leave.

“Yeah, no, we’re leaving,” Yeonjun says, scooping you up into his arms and hurrying you out the door.

“Yeonjun!” you squeal, laughing as he carries you outside. “Where are we even going?”

“My apartment,” he answers with a smile, the two of you leaving Beomgyu’s place behind, a trail of giggles following in your wake.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Author's notes)

Hi this is my first ever Tumblr story that's this long! So, I would appreciate if you comment any feedback or critiques!

I will be making a master-list to organise my work really soon :).

I'm also working on another story currently, that I believe is longer and has a more intense plot. It includes smut but it is more of detective psychological story with plot twists. I still haven't fully decided who to pair it with (I'm open to any group I'm familiar with; BTS, TXT, SVT, ATZ, ENHA, ZB1 etc..), so if you would like a specific member for this story lmk! I'll try to take in your suggestions :D! I will also be posting a prolougue/teaser to it soon.

If you'd like to be in my taglist please reply and lmk.

I take in requests! So, feel free to send any in :)!

So yeah, hope this story was an enjoyable read! Have a great day loves 💕.

[tokiiee]

their idol crush catching them staring — tomorrow x together

txt’s reaction to their idol crush’s catching them staring : pairing ot5 x idol!reader genre fluff, romance, reaction cw gn!reader, lowercase on purpose ( archive )

choi soobin ( 최수빈 )

soobin tries to act calm, but he blushes when you and your group member catch him looking. as you giggle at him, he becomes even more embarrassed and avoids making eye contact with you.

choi yeonjun ( 최연준 )

yeonjun smirks and looks at you, trying to make you feel shy like he is. he struggles to hide his embarrassment and shyness, and it becomes harder when you look away.

choi beomgyu ( 최범규 )

he smiles nervously and tries to look away slowly to hide his embarrassment. but when he turns around, he covers his mouth in shame, and yeonjun and kai laugh. beomgyu feels like a fool in front of everyone.

kang taehyun ( 강태현 )

at first, taehyun didn't know you were looking at him. he was focused on you and thought you were focused on the performance ahead. when he realized you were looking at him, he blushed but wasn't too embarrassed. he found it somewhat funny.

huening kai ( 휴닝카이 )

kai gets embarrassed and flustered when he realizes he's been caught staring. He feels so awkward that he doesn't know what to do and wants to look away, but doesn’t want to make it obvious or weird. when you look away, he's relieved because he didn't want to be the first one to do so. but he still feels shy whenever he sees you smiling because of it.

© tokiiee 2O23.

[lvrs-street2mmorrow]

Scary? My God, You’re Divine

| part 1

link to masterlist

pairings: ghost! beomgyu x fem! reader, coworker! yeonjun x fem! reader

summary: you’re excited to start a new chapter of life, moving into a relatively nice little place. though your landlord had said the place was old as rocks, it was remodeled and made new. you were never the type to be especially involved with the paranormal, but it becomes hard to deny that your new place has some quirks.

warnings: nothing really just a little angst

wc: 1.4k

a/n:i wanted to show you my work but i tried to get it out quickly so I’m sorry it’s short😭

You stand with your hands on your hips, admiring your hard work of getting those heavy boxes full of furniture into the sad, empty house by yourself. You mumble to yourself, "This is stupid."

You turn around to walk back outside since there’s no heater or AC yet, and it’s boiling in the new modern house.

Once you’ve left the house, you lock the door behind you and get in your car. Once you’re back home, you're holding your cup of coffee, your keys, and a bunch of other stuff, including your phone.

As you unlock the door, you hear something and brush it off as some sort of water pipe noise because the website said it was just remodeled, but the house is fairly old.

When you walk in, you see the old ceramic vase your mother made for you in your freshman year of highschool. You wonder why it’s on the ground since it was packaged away in some big heavy box you were too lazy to look in. You convince yourself you’re just too tired to remember that you grabbed it because you just moved in. Why would you try to make yourself scared like a little kid?

As you pump up your temporary air mattress and lay down your pillow, you hear a small tap on the wall but just roll your eyes, thinking it’s nothing.

When you wake up and check the kitchen where you planned to unpack things first, you see a fork on the marble counter that you didn’t place there. You shrug and put it into the silverware drawer with the silverware organizer you put there yesterday before you slept.

Once your two best friends, Huening Kai and Huening Bahiyyih, arrive, they help you move things and place items such as shelves and your couch. Kai hears a sound from the pantry full of cans you packed. He opens the door and sees that somehow one of the corn cans ended up with the green bean cans. He huffs, "Bahiyyih, I swear if you put this corn can on the—"

He and Bahiyyih hear a sudden scream from upstairs followed by a shout of "BUG!" and a few footsteps. But once she gets off the stairs, there's an extra footstep behind her that wasn’t hers. They think nothing of it because there is practically nothing in the house besides basic furniture: a couch, a bed, a desk, and a few appliances in the kitchen so it could have just been an echo.

Kai calls out your name, “Yo, did you put this can here?” You walk over and shake your head as you grab a water bottle. “No, why? I thought you guys were in charge of the food.” He huffs, “We were until Bahiyyih decided to spill water everywhere.”

You laugh as she pouts. “It was an accident!” she confesses, and Kai rolls his eyes. “Right…”

As the three of you set up the sleeping arrangements for the night, Kai and Bahiyyih leave to get some food. You are by yourself, sitting on the bed you are sharing with Bahiyyih, while Kai sleeps on the mattress on the floor.

You feel a cold gust pass through you and turn your head to check the temperature in the house. Something moves out of the corner of your eyes, and quite literally nothing could’ve prepared you for there to be a man standing at the doorway of your bedroom. You freeze.

“What are–who are you?’ You ask, muscles taut and ready to bolt. He just looks at you for a good minute, then opens his mouth to talk and says “you can see me?” he says with a tilt of his head.

You sit up and say, "Get out of my house, or I'll call the police!" He doesn't reply; instead, he sits there for a moment, then goes invisible for a second and reappears. You stand there in shock, your mouth open, and he just stares at you.

As soon as Kai and Bahiyyh get back, the man is immediately gone. They ask, "Girl, we just got you food. Are you okay?" Still a little shaken up, you reply, "Yeah, I'm just tired from moving a bunch of heavy boxes." Kai laughs, and you nod, going to grab the food the two goblins started eating before they got to the house.

You huff getting up and the others say they’re gonna go sleep so you decide to leave your food uneaten and just go sleep.in the morning your friends wake you up and it’s around 7 and 8am and you whine “shut up” she say with a pout because you want to sleep and they say “girl you have to wake up if you want to be over fixing up the house”

Once the house is finally organized, they leave, give you hugs, and you wave them goodbye. After they’re gone, you plop onto the couch to watch a movie. The only thing you're interested in is Mean Girls, it’s the only good thing on Netflix.

A few minutes before the movie ends, you hear a sound from the kitchen. You get up to check if it’s a mouse, as the landlord mentioned there might be mice in the first week. However, when you get there, the same man is standing there.

He’s wearing a fancy outfit with a white button-up top that looks like something a prince would wear, black dress shoes, and black formal pants. You back away and say, “Why are you in my house again? I said I’ll—”

He doesn’t say anything and just looks at you. When he steps, his steps don’t make a sound as he says, “Your house?”

You threaten to call the police on him again, and the handsome man tilts his head. “What’s the police?”

You say, “Are you stupid.” He just looks at you and shrugs his shoulders.

He says, “Well, my name's Beomgyu—”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not asking for your name. I’m asking you to get out of my fucking house,” you say,watching his movements with caution.

You sigh. “How long have you been here?” you ask, not as a question but as a demand.

When you try to touch him to drag him out of your house, your hand goes through him. You stop, and the world crashes around you. Did your hand just go through his arm? You sit open-mouthed, grasping at straws for a plausible reason for why that would happen. There are none. He seems a bit startled, too, watching your hand go through him. You stare at each other, a bit comically.

And then, like a wave that curls over and sucks you under, it hits you; you’re insane.

The man speaks. “how did that happen?”

You stand in shock like a deer in headlights, thinking you're literally insane, and you shrug. "I… I don't know what just happened." You go to grab him again and again, but your hand just keeps going through him with a small 'woosh' each time.

He says, just as scared as you, "I can't feel anything." he turns his head to look around your room and he says “are we insane?” you shrug replying “wait..what’s your last name..” you trail off forgetting his name “it’s Choi,Choi beomgyu is my name”

You look him up and down despite being terrified of him. "What are you wearing?" you ask, sighing as you judge his old-looking clothes. This guy looks like he's about to go to a Renaissance faire, you think, before your thoughts are cut off by him.

"Does your husband possibly know you've intruded on his wardrobe?" he asks with a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk you just want to smack off his face.

You put your hands on your hips. "I don't have a husband. What do you mean?" You say it like you're truly offended, but you know you're not and you'd like to stay without one. You remember some sob story your aunt told you about boys when you were thirteen, and you've been avoiding boys left and right since then.

Later, you (well, mostly you) search up his name on Google, and it says that he was born in 1500 and died in 1523. He was a poet and a songwriter. It doesn’t mention the cause of death, and Beomgyu himself doesn’t seem to know how he died. He says, "I'm dead?" with a sad tone. You look at him in terror because you're literally looking at a ghost.

END PART 1

[donniehere]

just found out that beomgyu’s a huge fan of headpats, so I decided to treat you with this short wholesome one-shot.

as this is my first post, please take notice that english isn’t my native language, so any corrections of grammatical errors or typos are appreciated.

HEADPATS

bf!beomgyu x f!reader

genre: fluff.

warnings: none!

description: when the usual hyperactive beomgyu returns upset from a concert, and won’t tell you what happened until he receives his headpats.

having a popular idol as your boyfriend wasn’t an easy task, especially in your position. having to deal with fans and the staff that hasn’t found out about your relationship. but beomgyu, being the supportive boyfriend he was, stood behind you through all of the path. whether it was dealing with rumours or throwing good words on your name infront of staff.

the only ones aware of your relationship, were beomgyu’s members, who supported you throughout the entire way and promised to keep your relationship a secret from the others. you truly did cherish them for doing so.

tours would always end up with you disappearing from yours and your co-workers’ hotel room in the middle of the night. and when they questioned you about it, you always excused you went out on a walk to catch a breath, when you were actually sleeping under beomgyu’s sheets.

just as described, you were currently awaiting your boyfriend’s return from the concert. he sent you a quick message informing you that they were on their way back to the hotel. you were sat on the expensive couch in his hotel room, jumping when you heard the door open. “gyu!” you exclaimed excitedly, jumping off the couch to greet the boy.

the moment you had a full sight of his face, you noticed the slumped pout on his lips. “hey.” his usual enthusiastic tone has changed upside-down, which only added to his bizarre behaviour.

the second your arms engulfed his body into a warm embrace, his weight leaned on to you, and his head found itself on your shoulder. “woah, what’s gotten into you?” you stumbled back due to his additional weight, your body barely capable of carrying his body.

you stood against the wall to prevent yourself from falling backwards. your hand briefly brushed against his head, fingers like feathers in his hair. “I’ll run you a warm bath, alright? get ready in the meanwhile.”

soon after, beomgyu joined you on the hotel bed, eyes glued onto your form. “well, mind telling me what’s the grumpy behaviour all about?” you question.

“no.” he shook his head and his honey eyes averted downwards.

you frowned. “gyuu, cmon, don’t be stubborn. you know im here to solve any of your problems.” you assure him. you wanted to make sure that he acknowledges your efforts in the relationship too. you wanted to confirm he knows you’re here.

beomgyu exhaled and shook his head in denial, or at least what you thought was denial. you slowly began to overthink your last days together with the male. have you done anything to upset him?

you raised your arm and slotted the palm of your hand against his squishy cheek, caressing it gently. “was it a brainless fan? or perhaps you believe you’ve failed a move?” you question.

“no. no.” he blabbered and shook his head once again.

your concern began mixing with disappointment. you mustn’t force it out of him, of course. but you believed he trusted you just as much as you trusted him. negative thoughts rushed to flood your mind.

is it because you hadn’t shown your face at the latest concert? is it because you hadnt been backstage? or perhaps it’s because you haven’t been showing the presence of an actual girlfriend.

you only know seemed to realize, you never attempted clearing out rumours about your relationship. it was always beomgyu. you felt your chest tightening with the sensation of salty tears begging to escape your eyes.

“beomgyu,” uneasiness was evident in your voice, proved by the calling of his full name, which you often used under serious circumstances. “have i done anything that dissatisfied you?” your voice stuttered.

you lowered your hand from his face, watching as his face scrunched at the lack of warmth. “beomgyu, please tell me, the both of us should try solving it—“

“are you oblivious?” beomgyu muttered in a barely audible voice. your eyes searched for his hidden orbs, curious to find out his intentions. his hand grasped your wrist and brought your hand up to his head, fingers brushing through his brown locks.

“huh?” you hummed, perplexed. “b-beomgyu, what is this supposed to mean?” your words have unwillingly stumbled, causing you to mentally curse yourself.

a breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped at the sight of beomgyu’s lips tugging upwards into a gummy smile. beomgyu began moving your hand with his, a pleasured expression was visible on his handsome features.

his head leaned closer until it limped onto your shoulder, his strands tickling your sensitive skin. even the noun confusion wasn’t enough to describe your emotions as your mouth was left agape.

somewhat enjoying the warmth his body emitted and the weight pressing onto your form, you chuckled lightly. “are headpats all you sought?” you asked him. he abandoned his grip on your hand, and you willingly continued to brush your fingers through his soft hair.

“kind of,” you heard a giggle escaping his wide-open lips, clearly satisfied by the sensation of your fingers’ feathery touch against his scalp. “well, there might be on more thing.”

by instinct, your posture straightened and the strength in your hand muscle was drained before you halted your movements, earning a whine from him. “gyu, don’t play with me.” you demanded.

you almost gave in to his teasings due to his adorable grin. he interlocked his fingers with you and lifted your hand, placing light kisses against your knuckles in an affectionate manner. was this his way of apologizing? you assumed so.

“fine, fine.” he chuckled. he once again, rested your hand on top of his hair and signaled you to stroke it. “but you know, I kind of missed you.”

——

the next morning, yeonjun came rushing into beomgyu’s hotel room, already planning to scold him due to causing the entire group to be late. but the moment he entered, his eyes landed on the sight of the both of you snuggled into eachother. a smile curled into his lips, and decided to let you rest for at least another couple minutes.

[luouarr]

✶ ending fairy ── tomorrow x together

🗯️ : pair ot5 x fem!reader genre fluff , romance , reaction cw idol!reader , tomorrow x together's reaction to their crush's ending fairy

© luouarr 2O23 ♬

choi soobin , 최수빈

his dimples were more visible than ever when he is watching all of your group members do their ending poses, knowing you are coming up.. and when you do his smiley eyes appear. soobin can't help but clap at your beauty alone, but when you give the camera a cute pout, he's clapping louder, surprised at how charismatic you are ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

choi yeonjun , 최연준

he's your number one fan so when you show up on the big screen, putting half a heart to your cheek.. he would look at you to observe your charismatic and cute expression. his mouth would go into an 'o' shape when he sees you and he'd clap with amusement. yeonjun can't help but smile, laughing at how cute you were. he'd be thinking about it for the rest of the show.

choi beomgyu , 최범규

everyone was in awe of your beauty and voice, including beomgyu. when you wink at the camera, giving it a peace sign.. the crowd went wild. when the camera catches him watching you, he copies your wink and giving the camera a quick wave ( which causes you to laugh ) っ- ‸ - ς

kang taehyun , 강태현

he's trying to hide his obvious amazement. you're so beautiful, and talented, and omg.. the camera just caught him with his open mouth and glistening eyes. he's filled with so much adoration as he watches you do a finger gun to the camera. taehyun is blushing and is completely taken aback at how gorgeous you are. ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝

huening kai , 휴닝카이

kai is watching your performance, all starry-eyed and smiley. while the rest of your group members strike their poses, his smile grows even wider as the camera focuses on you. when you wink at the camera, he can't contain his giggles and starts slapping soobin's arm over and over.

[astrae4]

jealousy is a disease | choi chanhee

pairings — idol!chanhee x idol!reader

genre — romance, comedy, humor, fluff, and angst if you consider jealousy as that..?

warnings — signs of possessiveness and jealousy, and a bit of slight suggestiveness (kissing)

note — 200 followers special 🤍 Thank you so much for the support, my loves~ I appreciate each and every one of you so thank you for supporting me too! Let’s continue to be closer to each other in the future (´ε｀ ʃƪ)

more works — masterlist | tbz!masterlist

WHAT WOULD YOU DO if your beloved was being dispatched with “another man” right this instance just because dispatch can’t even recognize the right man?

“TXT’s Beomgyu? What?! We don’t even look alike!” He fumed, “and for the record you two wouldn’t look good together!”

You stood by the door frames, amused as you watched your little penguin throw a tantrum and vent his anger out on his pillow.

“Well, being caught by dispatch is still a bad situation, baby. Even if we got exposed correctly.”

“Yeah but.! but…UGH” he exclaimed, burying his head in the poor pillow.

You walked up to him and sat on the bed, making it droop. Even when Chanhee felt your presence on the bed, he didn’t move to look at you, still sulking.

“Baby,” you called, running your hands on his hair.

Finally, he turned to you, letting out a small whine in the process. Even though you know you shouldn’t, all you could look at was his puffy lips (which was still pouting by the way).

He seemed to have noticed.

Without a warning, he went on top of you, both hands beside your head. You’re startled, but immediately made your hands home to his shoulder.

“What—” you didn’t get to finish your sentence as he cut you off with a kiss, your right hand naturally going to his cheek.

Chanhee felt breathless, as if all rationalism was sucked out of him as all he could think about was making the world know you’re his. All he could feel was your soft lips on his.

his his his his his his his

After awhile, you tapped his shoulder as you were running out of breath; and both of you let go of each other, panting.

He gave one last kiss on your cheek, this time way softer and sweet than the one before, before snuggling his head into your neck.

With a muffled voice, he asked you sweetly, “Mine..?”

You exasperated with humor, “Yes darling, all yours.”

taglist — @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @luvhyun3 @kyusqult @deoboyznet

© astrae4 2023 | please don’t copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

[seoulzie]

a cat-astrophic interview

WHEREIN: beomgyu casually mentions he has a little one at home ..

彡 pairing: idol!beomgyu x gn!reader 彡 genre: lil crack & fluff! 彡 warnings: none!

SEUL SPEAKS! ✎ first fic! feedback nd reblogs are greatly appreciated! >< the cats name is miso kekeke

the fluorescent lights of the studio buzzed overhead, casting an artificial glow on beomgyu's face. he was on a talk show, the usual whirlwind of energy slightly dampened by the fatigue of a long day. the host, a bubbly woman with a contagious laugh, was wrapping up the interview.

"so, beomgyu-ssi," she chirped, leaning forward conspiratorially. "txt is known for being a group of close friends, practically family. but do you have a special someone waiting for you back home? maybe someone you take care of?"

the question caught beomgyu off guard. he hadn't prepared for anything beyond the usual questions about music and upcoming promotions. his mind flashed to the image of you sprawled on the couch that morning, hair a mess and eyes glued to a cartoon. a smile tugged at his lips.

"actually," he began, the playful glint returning to his eyes, "we do have a little one at home keeping things interesting."

the host gasped, a flurry of whispers rippling through the studio. staff wondering what the hell was going on. the host's eyes widened. "a little one? beomgyu, are you...?"

"being a dad?" beomgyu finished her sentence with a laugh, enjoying the delightful chaos he was unknowingly unleashing. "not quite! but it definitely feels like it sometimes."

he then proceeded to launch into an elaborate, albeit slightly exaggerated, tale about the trials and tribulations of co-parenting your "little one." he described epic battles over spilled milk (courtesy of miso’s playful swats at his morning cereal), late-night diaper changes (which, of course, involved wrestling a wriggling cat into a new catnip-filled toy), and the constant struggle to maintain a balance of order in your "messy" household.

with each embellished detail, the host, clearly flustered but trying to maintain her composure, peppered him with questions. beomgyu, ever the performer, reveled in the attention, completely oblivious to the potential social media firestorm he was igniting.

▹ time skip

beomgyu bounced into the living room, post-interview glow radiating from him. you were sprawled on the couch, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn precariously balanced on your lap, engrossed in a reality show marathon.

"did you see the interview?" beomgyu chirped, collapsing dramatically onto the other end of the couch.

"nope," you mumbled, eyes glued to the screen. "busy catching up on the drama between brenda and tatiana."

he chuckled, that adorable crinkling of his eyes you loved so much. "well, you're in for a surprise then."

finally tearing your gaze away from the tv, you raised an eyebrow. "hit me."

"they asked about life at home," beomgyu began, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "and i, being the honest guy i am, mentioned how much fun it is taking care of our little one."

your heart skipped a beat. "little one?" you echoed, a cold dread settling in your stomach.

"yeah!" beomgyu exclaimed, oblivious to your growing panic. "taking care of miso is, like, the best part of my day. she;s such a messy eater, though. catnip everywhere!"

relief flooded your system, momentarily drowning out the rising tide of amusement. "beomgyu," you said, trying to keep a straight face, "our cat is not our child."

beomgyu's smile faltered slightly. "cat?"

you burst out laughing, the tension dissolving. beomgyu, ever the endearingly dramatic soul, looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole.

"don't worry," you reassured him, wiping a tear from your eye. "just imagine the headlines tomorrow: 'txt's beomgyu secretly has a love child!' the internet will melt down."

beomgyu groaned, burying his face in a cushion. "this is why i shouldn't do interviews without my members."

the next few hours were a whirlwind of laughter, exasperation, and panicked scrolling through social media. the internet, as you predicted, had gone into meltdown mode. fan theories ranged from a secret marriage to a hidden child Beomgyu had somehow kept under wraps.

when things settled down, a new hashtag, "#BeomgyuIsADad," was trending worldwide. you and beomgyu, snuggled on the couch with a very confused-looking miso curled up between you, couldn't help but laugh.

as beomgyu sleepily mumbled apologies into your hair, you knew this was just another story to add to your collection of endearingly chaotic beomgyu memories.

© 2024 seoulzie

[byeomtori]

sunday to monday, i'm in love with you | beomgyu x reader (preview)

pairing: beomgyu x reader

content: strangers to friends to lover, high school au, sunshine reader, introvert beomgyu, will be adding more...

notes: inspired by sunday monday by apink

you saw him again this morning.

leaning on his side against the train door, hands tugged deeply into the pockets of his pants, headphone on, eyes glued to the buildings and the occasional nature passing by outside of the train window.

just like the first time you saw him a fortnight ago, he's there.

it's like the spot in front of the train's fifth door was reserved for him and only him. he boarded the seven am train and stood there by the door every day without fail.

you had no idea where he's heading to, or where he was from. every morning, he was already there when you got on the train and when you reached your station, he seemed to still be lost in his thoughts, not getting off.

he's going to school, sure. he had his uniform on every time you saw him. but he's not from your school — the stark contrast of your beige blazer and his dark blue one spoke enough volume.

you knew nothing about him, not even his name. you never dared to stand too close to him to have a peek on the nametag on his left chest — always keeping a safe distance, so you could peep at him once in a while without making yourself look like creep.

and you're pretty sure he never even realized of your existence; always staring out of the window throughout the train ride.

and you preferred it that way, to be honest -- of him not being aware of you and the occasional glances you threw his way every chance you got.

it's not like you had a crush on him, no. to you, he was just a blessing for your eyes early in the morning to make your five-stops-train-ride a little bit exciting.

he was nothing but stranger, and that all he was to you...

until you found yourself looking directly into a pair of caramel eyes, with the morning sun gently embracing him through the train window behind his looming figure, like he was some sort of spring angel descended to earth.

release date: tba

notes: as always, please forgive any grammatical errors for english is not my first language and do let me know what's your thoughts of this preview! :) x

[my313]

somebody write a historical au with him pleeeaaaase oh my gawd

[basminepiggy355]

now that my friends dont use tumblr im free rahhhh now i must confess my demons

i hate my chemical romance and tokio hotel fandom bc they act like 11 year olds who just got a new phone you are NOT toms wife ur actually a whole 20 years younger than him. and frerard isnt real and gerard has a literal child this is not doomed yaoi.. stop trying to break up lyn z and gerard just hold lyn z accountable for her actions.. anyway.

every rose of versailles fan ive met is over 30 like AAAAAAA im afraid of you all... anyone who has the lady oscar dollfie i WILL find you. (im sane i promise)

choi beomgyu heh.. i love you choi beomgyu.. i love you forever and ever........... ( ＾ω＾ )

im chronically online pls be my friend

[angelhyuka]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪ ⊹ ♡