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fairyofshampgyu · 7 months ago

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☆ Me? Pegged?!

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship

Pairing: college bf ! beomgyu x dom ! fem reader

Warnings: pegging, soft sex, sub beomgyu, dom reader, fluff, male masturbation, mentions of porn, anal fingering, use of strap on, hand job, hand holding during sex, beomgyu cries but bc he’s emotional lolol, use of petnames ‘puppy’, ‘baby’, gendered term, reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend’ and afab, disgustingly fluffy

synopsis: your skeptical boyfriend gets pegged for the first time <3 To say the least he definitely enjoys it a lot more than he expected.

word count: 2.8k

“What? Like, in my ass?” Beomgyu, splutters eyebrows raised and asking in a hushed tone, looking cautiously left to right seemingly embarrassed. Although, you were a little confused what he was looking for, given you were both inside his dorm room…and the only people in there.

His demeanour, a total whiplash to a few moments prior when he had very proudly won the fighting game you both were playing together.

“Well, yeah in your ass.” You deadpan at him. “It’s called pegging. It’s just something I think could be fun for us to try and share together and I want to make you feel good! But it’s okay if you don’t want to-”

“No! I’ll-I can try. For you. I’ve just-I’ve never really thought of it before. It seems…intense...” Beomgyu looks down with a pout, fiddling with his thumbs, legs crossed on his bed.

“Gyu,” You cup his cheek and he leans into your touch almost instantly, looking back up at you, practically purring at the nickname and your gesture, “if you’re not comfortable with it we won’t. We don’t have to just because I want to. I just wanted to know your thoughts on it. ”

Beomgyu was always an open minded person when it came to sex, always down to try things at least once. Both of you were pretty compatible in that sense, easily bored when things were kept the same. You liked how experimental and open he was with you.

Beomgyu rubs at the back of his head and nods slowly, still looking skeptical. “I want to try it with you. I trust you. But, I just don’t think I’ll really find it that enjoyable though. I’ll think about it.”

Not that beomgyu would admit to you, but after the topic of pegging was brought up, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. It made a strange feeling pool in his stomach, unsure if it was a good or bad thing. Would it even feel good? What would it feel like? It’d probably feel weird right? And the thought of being so vulnerable was a little scary. He knew he had nothing to be embarrassed about with you but it still felt a little too daunting.

To say the least, beomgyu was curious, and many nights contemplating brought him to conduct his own research. Grabbing his laptop, the only light shining in his dark room at the ungodly hours of a thursday night, he went to the only place he knew would have some sort of answers—the internet and he began sheepishly typing into the search bar.

To his surprise, he came across many dudes enthusiastically raving about it on reddit and how it completely changed their view of life—he thinks some of them were being a little bit dramatic.

He also watched a few videos, for research purposes only. He stared at his screen, mouth agape and feeling a flush creep up his neck, cheeks growing increasingly heated at what he sees. Woah. Maybe. This might actually be….

He couldn’t help imagining you doing that to him instead, mind painting vivid pictures of you, imagining your hands on his hips and breath against his neck, being handled like that. It was strangely arousing.

Suddenly beomgyu was squirming in his bed, one hand hesitantly slipping down his grey sweatpants as he bit his bottom lip, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows furrowed as he began embarrassedly and frantically jerking off his now red and hard dick to the thought of you pegging him.

Faster than he thought, beomgyu was cumming heaps with a hand slapped to his mouth to stop himself from loudly moaning out your name (the college walls were very thin. He knew from experience.) and completely making a mess, soiling his sweats with a muffled whimper instead.

He lay there gasping and panting flushed, left to ponder his actions and new found revelation. It was kind of hot? Or maybe it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing. He couldn’t actually find that hot, right?

Fuck.

There wasn’t much beomgyu kept from you, usually he’d be the one to talk your ear off about the most mundane, silliest things of his day as you both cuddled closely together. However, he’d purposefully failed to mention his recent porn search history and the fact that he’s been cumming a heck of a lot faster than he’d like to admit at the thought of his girlfriend fucking him in the ass.

It’s only made him more curious about whether he’d actually like it. There was only one way to find out and that was to just see for himself. So he knew he had to bring it up with you somehow again without sounding like a crazed freak.

You were studying in the library when beomgyu approached you, textbooks spread out in front of you as you furiously typed notes on your laptop. Beomgyu leans in to peck your cheek before taking a seat beside you and you looked up, lifting your headphones from your ears. “Oh you’re studying as well?”

Beomgyu gives you an incredulous look as if it was absolutely outrageous to suggest he’d be doing that. “Um no.” He clears his throat, trying to sound as nonchalant and cool as possible, “so, uh, remember that thing we talked about?”

You furrow your brows unsure of what he was talking about, but given how incredibly embarrassed he looked, you had an inkling of what it might be and you try not to laugh, heavily amused, accidentally saying it bit too loud, “Oh you mean pegging?”

He looks around frantically, eyes wide with panic as he tries to gauge if anyone else had heard, then he hits your arm and shoves you. “You don’t have to be so loud, my god.”

You can see the tips of his cute ears going pink as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to,” chuckling softly, you put your hands up in defence so he wouldn’t shove you again.

Beomgyu just narrows his eyes at you and scoffs, “Yeah, so anyway. I was just thinking, you know, maybe we should actually... give it a try? I mean, if you're still interested," he said, his words tumbling out in a rush.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “So, you’ve been thinking about it?” you teased, leaning in closer. “What changed your mind?”

"Well, I've been doing some, uh, research," he admitted, scratching the back of his head. "And, maybe it doesn't sound so bad after all. I mean, I’m not saying I’m dying to try it or anything. But, you know, I’m open to the idea. I guess.”

“Sure, sure,” you say giggling into your textbook. “You guess…”

Beomgyu flicks your forehead playfully, furrowing his brows. “Shut up.”

“Oww!” You rub your forehead soothingly, “We’ll try it soon then, yeah?”

He pretends to think about it, even though his excitement is barely contained. You could practically see his tail wagging and brown puppy eyes lighting up. “Yeah, we could do that.”

Today is the day beomgyu will finally get why a bunch of dudes from reddit are so into being pegged by their girlfriends. Unfortunately for beomgyu though, he was currently stuck in class, wanting more than ever to just be in your dorm, but he had to wait.

The professor's voice drones on, the words blending into a meaningless blur as Beomgyu stole glances at the clock every few seconds. Each tick seemed to echo in his head like a countdown to freedom, and he couldn't help but let out an impatient sigh, mind racing with thoughts of what awaited him once this torturous lecture finally ended.

Meanwhile, you were finding immense amusement in Beomgyu's predicament and you couldn’t help but send him teasing texts during his class to make him even more pathetically desperate.

Beomgyu's eyes widened as he read the message, his cheeks flushing red. He bit his lip, trying to stifle a groan of frustration. He typed back quickly, fingers fumbling with the keys.

Beom🧸🎸: This is pure evil ! You’re so mean :( 😞💔😪👎

You can’t help giggling, typing back a sarcastic response.

aww what a poor puppy. You’ll just have to wait.

Beom🧸🎸: why can’t I just skip bro🧍‍♂️

You tell him he’s not allowed to skip and that he has to sit through the entirety of it just to torture him some more. Beomgyu pouts, his bottom lip sticking out in a comically exaggerated manner at the text, earning a weird look from Soobin who sat next to him.

Finally, the professor dismisses the class, and Beomgyu practically leaped out his seat, gathering his notebook and laptop and shoving it in his bag in record time. He dashes out of the lecture hall, barely acknowledging soobin’s farewell. Beomgyu’s heart racing as he practically sprinted across campus to your dorm.

When he reached your door, he knocked eagerly, breathing heavily and you swung open the door.

Without a word, Beomgyu pulled you into a passionate kiss, his hands tangling in your hair as he pressed you against the doorframe. He couldn't wait any longer; the anticipation had built up to an almost unbearable level, and now that he was finally here with you, all he wanted was to feel close to you.

You chuckled softly against his lips, teasingly pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "Someone's eager," you run a hand through his tousled hair.

Beomgyu grins, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement as he stares down at you with half lidded eyes. "Can you blame me? You’ve been torturing me!" He pouts, staring down at your lips before kissing you again.

You’ve been meticulously prepping beomgyu for god knows how long now, but you wanted to make absolute sure that he was stretched out well so you wouldn’t hurt him one bit.

His soft, breathy moans fill the room as your lubed fingers slide in and out of his cute, pink hole repeatedly. He seemed to like it so far, each gentle movement makes him cling tighter to the pink silk pillow pressed against his chest, hugging it with his eyes blissfully closed, legs spread wide as he lay on your bed.

“Do you think you’re ready, baby?”

He opens his eyes, meeting your gaze with a needy look, and cutely nods, taking a few deep breaths. “Yeah- please.. I want you noww..”

You give him a weary glance. “I don’t want to hurt you though.”

Beomgyu shakes his head softly, still hugging the pink silk pillow tightly, even if he’s a little nervous, he desperately wants to feel you. He swallows, looking directly into your eyes and whines. “I’ll be fine. pleasee”

Sighing, you step into the harness of the strap-on (you’d made sure to order the cutest and prettiest one you saw online), coating the silicone in generous amounts of lube before returning back to beomgyu on the bed.

You gently place his dainty ankles over your shoulders, kissing on his inner thighs and pretty white sock clad legs and ankles as you do so.

You can’t stop staring in awe. Heart swelling up at the sight of beomgyu, fluffy messy hair splayed around his face, long thick eyelashes kissing his rose dusted cheeks, slightly chewing at his plump bottom limp as he braces himself. He’s so precious. How fucking gorgeous this boy is.

You kiss his ankles a few more times, one hand going to his cute tummy that heaved and you slowly push the silicone cock into his now glistening from all the lube, swollen, puffy pink hole, ever so slowly easing in, inch by inch and bottoming out.

Beomgyu cries out, hiding his face instantly in his elbow and he arches his back, and mewls.

“You okay, puppy?”, you coo and gently move his arm out the way so you can look at his pretty face and parted lips, stilling your movements and softly brushing the bangs out his eyes.

Beomgyu shakily nods, trembling. “Mmh. m’ okay. You can keep going.”

Loud high pitched strangled moans escape his lips as you pick up the pace. It’s a new feeling and it takes him some time to get used to. Beomgyu was always loud and would make the prettiest moans ever anyway, but there was something so different at how he moaned right now, completely guttural and different to how they usually were. Even he was surprised, clamping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment but he just couldn’t stop the noises at all even if he tried, loud whines and whimpers continuing unabated. You loved them so much.

You watch his poor, neglected cock slap his tummy with every thrust, red and hard and dribbling beads at the head constantly. You take his dick in your hand, stroking it at the same movement and fucking him harder.

He gasps shuddering and writhing, his fingers curling into the sheets. "Oh... that feels...," he manages to say, interrupted by whines and moans, mouth in a cute ‘o’ shaped, completely dumb and fucked out by now he can barely think, and he moans your name over and over. A cascade of mewls spilling from his lips, a sweet symphony that fills the room.

You lean down to press his swollen lips with yours, moving your mouth against him so messily and needy, making out with him so intensely as you carried on fucking his hole. You’re sure you’re hitting his prostate by now.

Beomgyu disconnects from your lips to pant, a string of saliva connecting from his and your mouth and reaches his hand out to yours “Hold…” He whimpers out, eyebrows furrowed and you gladly grab his hand, intertwining your hand with his and holding hands as you peg him, anchoring him. Your other free hand still continuing your ministrations on his cock, kissing him again. It seems you’ve pegged him completely into subspace.

"gonna cum soon... I can'ttt... it's too much!” Beomgyu chokes out, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he completely shakes.

You suddenly heard choked sobs and sniffling coming from beomgyu. Alarmed, you paused for a moment, worried that maybe you had hurt him. His face was buried in the pillow, and his shoulders were trembling with each shaky breath.

“Beomgyu, are you okay?” you asked softly, your voice laced with concern. You gently eased back, not wanting to cause him any discomfort.

He turned his head to look at you, and your heart ached at the sight before you. His glossy, brown doe eyes were filled with tears, eyelashes clumped together and his bottom lip was jutting out in a pout, making him look devastatingly beautiful, tears streaming down his red cheeks and his hair tousled and damp with sweat. He was such a pretty crier.

“I-I’m okay,” voice trembling with the intensity of his feelings. “It’s just... it feels so good. I love you so much.” His tears flowed freely now, each sob wracking his body. You were surprised at how emotional beomgyu had gotten.

You lean down to kiss away his tears, cupping his hot cheeks, “You’re doing so good for me, gyu. I love you too.”

Beomgyu grasps your hand even tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he clings to you so close. His head falls back with every thrust, and he throws his head back as you continue to hit his prostate repeatedly again and again, making him go cross eyed and his jaw slack.

He spurts a copious amount of cum from his cock, making such a mess on the sheets, your hand, and his tummy, cumming so hard his vision goes blurry, and he feels dizzy, his legs shaking uncontrollably. His eyes flutter open and shut, gasping and panting heavily. You pull out and collapse beside him, both of you utterly exhausted.

Beomgyu can conclude, the guys on reddit were so right.

Beomgyu doesn’t let go of you at all afterwards, burying his face in your chest and wrapping his legs and arms around you, clinging to you like a koala contently, breath warm against your skin as you kissed the top of his head.

“I can’t feel my legs.” Beomgyu whines, “Please never mention the crying ever again okay?” He muffles out. “I have a reputation to uphold, you know. Can’t have everyone thinking I’m a crybaby.”

You chuckle, stroking and playing with his soft hair which he loves so much, humming softly at the feeling of your hands on his scalp. “I thought it was very cute.”

He doesn’t say anything and a moment of silence ensues.

“Thank you, baby.” he says gently and quietly, “I’d be eating you out so good right now if I wasn’t so exhausted.” a tired but cheeky grin spreading across his face.

Within seconds, beomgyu was out like a light, his soft snores filling the quiet room, looking so cute absolutely knocked out in your arms.

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and disappointing when fics have such little reblogs ☹️👎🤨. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it makes writers want to actually write more :)

A/n: guys im sorry if this was the shittest thing I’ve ever written. I was really trying !! But I’m Just very out of practice at writing atm 😭 im very sorry if the smut is the most messiest thing you’ve ever read, I have not proofread it at all I have no idea what I was writing. So I’m very sorry

#beomgyu smut #txt smut #beomgyu x reader #sub!beomgyu #sub!idol #beomgyu hard hours #choi beomgyu smut #sub!txt #sub txt #sub beomgyu #sub idol #kpop smut

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miupow · 2 months ago

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any thoughts on traditional husband!txt ><

NSFW ── MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ౨ৎ cw : toxic gender roles , unprotected sex , possessive behavior , mentions of children in taehyun’s.

♡ trad husband!soobin who needs you to take care of him. welcome him with dinner and a beer when he gets home from work, kiss his worries away with your fingers in his hair sat perched on his lap as he winds down from working hard all day. gets his cock sucked if he's had a particularly difficult day, his brain melting out of his ears when you sit on his face and tell him to enjoy his dessert <3

♡ trad husband!yeonjun who needs to make everyone know that you're his. fat diamond on your little finger, expensive custom dresses soft against his hand when he grabs on your ass in public. his hickies on your neck that you spend ages hiding with makeup, his cum that leaks down your leg from underneath your skirt after you go "visit" him at his office. and his biggest dream; one day his babies in your belly, forever tying you to him for everyone to see.

♡ trad husband!beomgyu who wants to keep you all to himself. he wants to hide you away from everyone’s prying eyes, his wife such a pretty sight that’s only for him! he’s got a jealousy streak about a mile wide, unable to control himself when he thinks that another man is looking at what belongs to him. beomgyu doesn’t share. he never wants you to go out without him by your side, and even then he’s not the biggest fan of taking you out— a work event or a night on the town is destined to end in a nasty argument with him, and nastier, possessive sex in the backseat of his luxury car.

♡ trad husband!taehyun who treats you more like a bangmaid than a wife; all of your friends with equally wealthy husbands have housecleaners and cooks and assistants, but taehyun prefers it if you do all of the cooking and the cleaning. that’s your duty as his wife, in his eyes; he works hard and brings home the money, and you keep sweet and tidy as his homemaker <3 nothing makes him happier than coming home to a clean house and a hot meal, his children happy and taken care of. he’s a simple man with simple desires !

♡ trad husband!hueningkai who doesn’t like leaving you all alone while he’s at work :( he takes you with him to the office, sit pretty at his desk while he works!! has you come and sit on his lap while he answers phone calls and files paperwork, sneaking you a kiss or two when you start getting whiny hehe <3 he loves for you to cockwarm him while he’s on the clock, but he’s not that good at keeping a straight face… he loves the thrill of it tho !! loves trying to keep his noises down while he’s calling clients…

#txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours #txt smut #soobin smut #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #yeonjun smut #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu smut #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun hard hours #taehyun smut #hueningkai hard hours #hueningkai hard thoughts #hueningkai smut

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beomie3 · 8 months ago

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night lounge - cbg

☆ summary: the nights spent at your favorite night lounge are everything you could ever need. until one night, you stumble upon a man that makes you rethink.

☆ wc: roughly 4k

☆ content: slow burn smut, beomgyu is a gentleman in a jazz band, light bondage (he uses his tie to fasten your wrists), light drinking, cursing, unprotected, lots of kissing :p, fluffy ending, he’s dominant in this <3

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

your favorite late-night lounge lies hidden in the underground of a ritzy hotel amidst the city; candlelit and cozy, black silk sofas and a bar equipped with all the drinks for a perfect night.

it'd been your nighttime getaway ever since you discovered it accidentally one night. you haven't found a place quite as unique as it.

you just can't get over the smooth jazz band that plays in it's designated corner every saturday night at sundown when you arrive. the blend is perfect to the ear; smooth saxophone, soft drums, pretty piano, and sometimes a bassist who would join in at midnight and play well into 3 a.m. which is usually when you decide you're satisfied with your night and head home. which to be frank, it's hard to decide when to leave when it's your comfort place. it simply couldn't get better.

or so you thought.

you sat at the usual velvet barstool under the star-shaped chandelier, taking in the ambiance of the dreamy lounge as always. the subtle murmur of guests and clinks of glasses filling the room, dim with dainty light fixtures and flicker of candles in small glass jars at every table.

dried flowers, fairy lights, and classical paintings adorned the walls in such a beautiful way that made you feel nostalgic. like a museum in paris had been turned into a swanky hangout.

if you could describe the place in one word it would be; classy. no, elegant. no.. dreamy. there were just so many attributes to describe your favorite place, you couldn't begin to put your finger on one.

the peace you felt here while sipping red wine or a cocktail while listening to the smooth blend of instruments from the live ensemble was unmatched to any other place ever, like your own little neverland that you escaped to at nightfall.

the bartender you knew well had just placed a tall glass of chardonnay in front of you, setting tonight's mood as you relax under the liquid's musky yet enjoyable flavor.

cozying into the velvet seat, you shifted your attention back to the band, also paying mind to the people subtly beginning to fill the lounge as the night commenced; observing different groups of friends or couples who entered in intricate outfits, most faces familiar to you. admittedly, people watching was a pastime you fairly enjoyed.

but suddenly there appeared the face of a man you had yet to see, noticing his tall figure immediately as he came down the steps with a certain presence that radiated nothing but confidence and poise.

maybe it was the all-black suit he wore or the way his feathered ebony hair parted over his eyes in such a way that made you stare, following his every step into the warm glow of the lounge.

you wondered if he'd come here all along, or if he was simply a figment of your imagination after only two sips of your glass.

he's here for the same reason as you, it seems, as he briskly makes his way over to the bar.

noticing his approach you try your best to disregard him, acting as if you hadn't just watched his entire procession into the lounge.

"anyone sitting here, miss?" a sudden deep and breathy voice calls out from beside you, a dull pang at your stomach when you turn towards the man and realize how much more handsome he is up close. the way the dim light encapsulates his face, noticing the subtle gloss over his skin.

"you." you keep your wits about you, noticing the way the corner of his lip tugs upward when he nods toward you. swiftly taking the seat.

you turn and face the jazz ensemble again, tongue in cheek as you can feel his warmth beside you, trying your best to seem unfazed by his presence.

although your eyes are on the band, your ears are keen to his thick voice as he orders; a gin martini on the rocks and a side of lime, please. oh and put the jazz band on my tab while you're at it.

you nearly whip your head around at the sound of his request to put the jazz band on his tab. regardless, there were only four members but still...you were in shock and mostly intrigued. it isn't an act of kindness you'd usually hear at the bar.

the waiter gets to work on his drink and your eyes drift to him like a magnet drawn to metal; his mystery, you just wanted to freeze time and observe him.

once your eyes were on him you just couldn't resist the question that lingered on the tip of your tongue.

"do you know the jazz band?" you circle the rim of your glass with a finger, his chocolate eyes immediately boarding into yours along with all of his attention.

"i do. or else there wouldn't be one," his smile slowly grows as yours does, sipping his drink as it arrives. keeping his eyes on you all the while. he's only spoken two sentences to you but you swear there is something about his aura you just can't get enough of.

although he kept his response short and sweet, you put two and two together and concluded that he founded the band or something of the sort. either way, you just couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"well then today is my lucky day," you bring your glass to your lips and he lets out a deep chuckle, setting his glass down with a smirk at you. eyes still glued to his while he briefly looks away to set his glass down, you try taking him all in; the tiny freckle on his cheek, the silver ring in his earlobe, his long eyelashes. he was almost unreal.

"choi beomgyu," he holds a hand out to you, impressed with how much of a gentleman he's been in not even the five minutes you'd spoken to him. sad how low your expectations were after how many royal douchebags you'd come across at this bar.

you state your name in response, taking his warm hand and resisting the urge to smile too big when he slightly bows his head toward you, eyes never leaving yours as he gently shakes your hand.

that wasn't until he brought the back of your hand to his lips like a prince to a princess, that your heart nearly beat out of your chest; simply carried away by his charm. you’d never been greeted this way.

"i take it you enjoy my band," he slowly releases your hand. "rare to see someone just sit. listen. enjoy the music." he slightly reclines, bringing his glass back to his plump lips with those deep brown eyes on you.

"saturday nights are always my favorite." you nod, slightly reclining in your seat too, mimicking his body language.

"i know." his smile slightly grows behind the rim of his glass, wondering how the hell he knows if you'd never met him in your life.

"and how is it that you know that?" you slightly tilt your head, crossing your legs toward him and narrowing your eyes in await for a response.

"velvet chair at the end of the bar under the star-shaped chandelier. it's your seat. how could i not know where the most beautiful woman in this place sits?"

you're good at not showing how flustered you are; legs tightly crossed together, cheek caught in between your teeth, biting back the biggest damn smile.

"saturday nights are my favorite too," he looks over at the band and it isn't until he makes a bass-playing gesture with his fingers that the puzzle pieces click.

he's the bassist that comes on the stage when the lights go dark at midnight with only candles and fairy lights left to illuminate the room as people slow dance. you thought his silhouette might have looked familiar when he came down the stairs, considering that was all you ever knew of him.

he chuckles at your reaction to it finally clicking within you, truly appreciating your deep love for his performances, as no one usually cares much.

you and choi beomgyu continued chatting the night away, and he can see deep in your eyes that you're passionate about what you talk about. he loved finding out that the girl he always keeps his eye on when he's on stage secretly always admired him and his work.

when the bartender comes around with refills, beomgyu only orders water, finding it rather refreshing that a man can control himself and find satisfaction in only one drink as you usually do.

at midnight when the lights dim, beomgyu leads you hand in hand to the front row of the stage, getting to watch his performance front and center. he loves seeing you so close, usually having to deal with watching you from afar when you sat at the bar.

he performs dried flower, your favorite song preformed by the band. you watch his fingers caress the strings, long and dainty, pretty fingers. clad in expensive rings. wrist dangling with dainty charm bracelets. he has a certain class that is hard to find in men, and you feel yourself falling for him every passing second.

hes so passionate when he plays; eyebrows slightly furrowed as he instinctively plucks every note just perfectly. you’re also keen to every woman staring at him when his solo comes, whispering and giggling amongst one another. you grin.

after, he steps down and joins you in the crowd, asking for your hand and the two of you slow dance to the soft jazz, your head in his chest as he carefully steps with you. he smells of soft cashmere, and that’s the last thing you take note of before you’ve fallen completely head over heels.

the lights dim a bit more, his face barely lit by the candles but you can still see the sparkle in his eyes. his gaze is soft, yet intense and your heart stops as his face inches closer.

before you know it, your lips are touching what feels like velvet pillows; his lips. your heart races, blood rushing to your face and he pulls you closer, feeling his chest press against yours.

his sweet kiss lingers on your lips. you must have a sweet tooth, because you’re craving more.

“how about we get out of here?” his eyes are so intense on yours, realizing your fingers had interlaced into his long ago as you slow danced.

your eyes say it all; both of your body language says it all. you can practically feel your body heat radiating through your silk dress. cheeks flushed as he guides you through the crowd and out into the cool night air.

the taxi ride to his place is tense as you sit hip to hip, his fingers tracing your palm and you can’t seem to take your eyes off of one another. the taxi driver is the only thing keeping him from saying some not so appropriate things out loud, so instead he whispers them in your ear and you’re a giggling mess.

his high rise apartment is classy like him; low lighting and wooden accents, a baby grand piano in the corner under a chandelier, record player and a vinyl collection. an array of basses and guitars adorning the living room. it reminds you of the lounge, in fact; classical paintings and candles and dried flowers on the dining room table.

the tension only builds and builds, until it snaps.

he does so much as put a record on and offer you a glass of wine before your lips are on each other’s again. messy makeout, fingers intertwined in hair. his fingers precisely unbuttoning his suit before sliding under your silk dress.

the two of you stumble toward his king bed and you help him loosen his tie but he ushers your hand away, swiftly removing it from himself.

you fall backwards on his bed, feeling the silk sheets fluff up around you, cold against your boiling skin. he stands between your legs, pulling you toward the edge of the bed toward him with hands hooked underneath your thighs.

“hands above your head,” his voice is husky, eyes dark as he towers over you. dark brown hair messy and fluffed over his forehead.

his demand makes you twice as soaked and you swear a puddle has formed between your legs. you do as he says, feeling the cold air waft against the sensitive skin of your under arms and you’re pelted with goosebumps.

“good girl,” his voice is low, eyes dark. his cock twitches in his pants as you had done what he said, leaning down to hold your hands in place. your eyes widen when he uses his black tie to begin tying your hands together above your head.

“is this okay?” he focuses intensely into your eyes as he makes several concise knots, his voice tender and genuine as you bite your lip. it’s more than okay.

“mhmm,” you moan into his lips as he kisses you, pressing his hips against your clothed heat, legs spread, wrapping around his torso.

you didn’t know what to expect from this choi beomgyu guy, but you could tell he was amazing in bed since the moment you met. he’s had you on edge, turned on since the moment he spoke. he really knows how to turn you the fuck on.

you’re completely out of control now, your wrists fastened tightly together by his tie but you love the feeling more than you ever expected.

he starts slow but increasingly gets more feral. starting by kissing your neck softly, he slips your silk dress off and blood rushes straight to his dick.

you’re wearing a lace bra, extremely see through so that he can see that your nipples are hard and poking out him. but what makes him nearly salivate; you’re not wearing any underwear.

well, you were wearing underwear earlier tonight at first arriving to the lounge, but you’d taken them off somewhere along the night.

“check your pocket,” you eyed the front pocket of his suit jacket and when he stuck his hand in it to discover a pair of lacy underwear, his tongue darts to wet his lips. he fought the urge to absolutely fuck the shit out of you right here right now.

“such a sneaky girl, hm?” he cocks his head to the side, the hint of a sly grin on his lips as he slides his suit jacket off, leaving him only his white button up shirt, yet it’s unbuttoned so that you can see his bare chest and torso peeking through. he pushes the sleeves up and runs his fingers through his feathered hair to expose his forehead briefly. he’s so unbelievably sexy.

his hands are a bit rougher on you now, gripping the fat of your hips as he tongue kisses you, so messy and wet and hot. trailing his lips all over your chest, he bites your nipples softly through the lace and it feels so fucking good. he makes a mess of his spit, kissing your body until his reaches your bare pussy, already drenched for him.

“already so fucking wet and i haven’t even done anything,” he groans at the sight of your wetness dribbling out and onto his sheets. he really can’t believe his eyes at how soaked you are, can’t stop thinking of how good you’re going to feel when he fucks you.

his lips are level with your lower ones and he stares up at you through fluffed bangs over his thick brows. you anticipate what his tongue will feel like inside of you, shuddering when his hot breath wafts against you. you’re so sensitive.

he supports your thighs with his hands, setting each of your feet to rest on the tops of his shoulders. you’re spread wide open for him so that he has the best view of your entirety.

he hasn’t even fucking done anything and you moan out, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat. just the air exuded from his nose when he breathes brushes against your clit and stimulates it.

his tongue finally traces over your bud and you whip your head back onto his memory foam mattress. you can’t do this; no, there’s far too much pleasure. you’d never been this sensitive with anyone in your life. you'd never been this turned on by anything.

when his lips attach to your clit and suck, your hands shoot into his soft hair, grabbing handfuls of it as you whimper loudly; slurping sounds and moans echoing throughout his bedroom. your sounds egg him on; cock twitching violently in his pants with every single one of your sweet sounds.

when he inserts two long fingers into you and curls them up to your g-spot, it’s over for you. it only takes about four strokes of his fingers until you’re spasming, fluttering intensely around his fingers and grinding yourself into his face. his moans vibrate against you. no one had ever made you finish this fast.

“god beomgyu you’re- so fucking good-,” you huff out of breath between words, heavy head thrown back, chest heaving. his ego is stroked yet again.

the recovery from your orgasm is fast as he is quick to kiss you, need prevalent in his veins as you feel fire in him with the way his lips devour yours.

you clench around nothing, squeezing his arms tightly as nervous shudders course through your veins. you need him.

“choi beomgyu,” you whisper against his lips and his hungry eyes board into yours, lips puffy and glossy; he’s looks way too hot right now. you lean up to whisper in his ear.

“fuck me,” your voice is quiet, desperate. hot breath seeping down his neck. he is done for. he's kept his composure this long. but there is always a point where he absolutely loses it.

he can’t wait any longer, swiftly unbuckling his belt and dropping his perfectly ironed black trousers down to his knees along with his boxers.

when his cock springs out, it slaps up against his abdomen with a heavy thud and your eyes widen. he’s got a big fucking dick. your throat bobs as you swallow down a bundle of nerves.

“holy shit,” you say under your breath but he hears you; dark smirk spreading across his lips. he looks down at himself, spreading the ooze of precum around his tip; a darkened pink shade with all of the blood flowing up to it.

since the moment you saw him walk through the door at the lounge tonight, you’ve wanted to fuck him. but the moment he saw you for the first time; oh he’s been wanting to fuck you for months.

"what was that darling?" he leans down to look into your eyes, tender touch against your cheek as he snakes a hand around your thigh and pulls it up so that your knee is up against your chest.

"hm?" his lips are inches away from yours, eyes dark and flicking down to your lips and back up into your eyes repeatedly. he throws your leg over his shoulder.

your heart strums against your ribs as you're anxious to take him, yet you can't wait.

"you can take me, right gorgeous?" he tilts his head and you can't process how beautiful he looks right now; soft, chandelier lights of his bedroom reflect from his big, brown doe-shaped eyes. your mauve lipstick smeared across his lips and chin. hair tousled back, revealing his perfect eyebrows and forehead. the sheen of sweat glimmering from his skin.

"i can take you," a small grin is on your lips as you fiddle with the end of his tie around your wrists, realizing that having your hands tied above your head has made you way more sensitive than normal.

looking down at the space in between the two of you, he rubs the tip of his cock up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. he places small kisses to your knee, as it's resting by his cheek.

you suck air through your teeth when you feel a slight stretch as he guides himself into you, going slow enough to get you adjusted to his tip. you keep your eyes locked as he slides the rest in little by little, moans growing louder as the stretch intensifies. looking down, you realize he's only half-way in and you look up at him, lip caught between his teeth.

the stretch is so intense, but not as intense as his eyes on yours, searching deep into your soul. his hands come up to fiddle with the knot of his tie around your hands, suddenly feeling it loosen and your hands are free. immediately, they fly into his hair, thumbs soft over the sides of his face. he untied them for this exact reason; to feel your intoxicating touch all over him.

suddenly, you feel his hips meet the back of your thigh, and that's when you know he's all the way in. your mouth is agape as he slowly begins moving in an out of you, crashing your lips back to his as the skin of his thighs begins to slap against yours.

his hands are busy on you; one palming your tits as the other hooked under your thigh to keep your leg situated atop his shoulder.

taking him raw feels so wrong but so right; the edge of his tip feels fantastic against your g-spot, thick veins massaging you just right. your arousal leaves a milky white ring around the base of his cock as he slams into you. he collects some, bringing it to your mouth, followed by crashing his lips to yours again so that you can both taste it together.

“you feel so fucking amazing,” he breaks the kiss to speak to you, followed by a moan as he slams as deep as he can into you. you’ve ajusted well at the is point that the pain has turned into pleasure. his soft whimpers in your ear were enough to make you even wetter, easing the process of being stretched out.

he shuts his eyes as you’re sucking him i’m so perfectly, so turned on by the squelch of your pussy every time he enters you. he fights back the urge to cum, but it’s so hard with how beautiful you look right now.

your face is contorted in pleasure, hair sprawled out all over his bed, shimmery sheen on your skin from a mixture of sweat, tits bouncing with every slam of his hips.

“god you’re taking it so well,” he groans against your neck, lifting your other thigh so that both of your legs are swung over his shoulders. he’s impressed by your flexibility as his chest is pressed against yours, realizing just how far he is leaned down against you.

his hips are rhythmic against yours, grinding himself into you, a good tactic to stimulate your clit with this pelvis. it’s like he’s a professional.

his name along with a mixture of curses leave your lips in drawn out moans as your nails dig into his back, the sound of his name nearly drives him insane and he fucks you harder.

you feel the familiar ache in your core with every thrust, and he already knows you’re close because of how much tighter you’ve become around him.

he’s a moaning mess, deep voice like honey in your ear as you suck him in even tighter now. he reaches down to thumb at your clit and you’re right there, right on the edge.

“harder beomgyu, fuck me harder!” you bite down on his shoulder, his hips slamming at a pace so fast that his bed is creaking so loud. your moans probably audible from outside his apartment at this point.

“you gonna cum for me? yeah? cum all over my cock sweetheart c’mon,” his voice is loud yet deep and husky. his eyebrows are furrowed together in pleasure, sweat dripping from his neck and onto your chest.

the slapping of skin is so loud now, and he gives you three precise thrusts before you completely combust.

your sporadic moans are not what tells him you’ve just finished, it’s the absolutely insane convulsions that he feels inside you, fluttering around him at what feels like 200 miles per hour.

it’s enough to push him right over the edge in an ínstense orgasm. he pulls out immediately, busting all over your tummy and angling it to get some on your chest and face. milky white all over you, and there’s a lot too.

he’s so god damn vocal as he cums, his head thrown back so that you can see his addams apple in full glory, bobbing up and down as he moans.

you wipe your chin of his cum and lick your fingers clean, addicted to his salty-sweet taste.

he looks so exhausted as his chest heaves, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. but he doesn’t lay down on the bed just yet; instead he walks to his bathroom, getting a towel to clean you up first like the gentleman he is.

he wipes his fluids off of you with a warm wash rag, tender eyes on your skin as he softly cleanses you. there is a soft quietness about the room, not awkward, soothing actually.

he helps you under his silk sheets once you’re all cleaned up and he snuggles under with you, propping his head up on his hand as he rubs small circles on your shoulder.

“i look forward to seeing you at every show,” his voice is soft, a tender smile on his lips. you love how calm he is, how respectful, how tranquil. almost like he’s healing something deep within you.

“always,” you smile in return. you talked about anything and everything, in love with the way his eyes were attentive to you, keen to every single thing you had to say.

finding his hand under the sheets, you fiddle with his fingers, imagining all the things the future has in store for the two of you. you just knew this was the start of something special.

you hear the record player in his living room echoing with your favorite song, dried flower.

“can i have this dance?” he squeezes your hand under the sheets, smiling. and although you’re both tired, you each slip on a robe and walk hand in hand to his candle-lit living room.

it feels like you’re meant to do this with him, like you’ve done it together before in a past life.

you thought nights at your favorite lounge were everything you could ever need. but that wasn’t true. because tonight, meeting the love of your life proved you wrong in every single way.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

note: here is a gyu fic!! tysm for continuing to support my works while i've been gone. i'm currently vising japan and i've been here for a few months :) i'm happy to announce i'm working on a tokyo part 3 for those who enjoyed tokyo and the sequel!!! i plan on releasing more fics in the mean time. i hope you enjoyed this one<3

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yeoningz · 1 day ago

Text

CAUGHT BETWEEN THE PAGES ⋆˚࿔ 최수빈

your professor catches you reading a not-so-safe-for-school book in the middle of his class. in an effort to make things better, you fear that you may have just made them worse.

⧼ 📖 ⧽ 一 pairing ⸝⸝⸝ professor!choi soobin ✗ student!fem!reader includes ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ beomgyu and yeonjun of tomorrow x together, dino of seventeen, giselle and karina of aespa

genre ⚬ ⚬ ⚬ smut, fluff, porn with plot, comedy

warnings ⸝⸝⸝ teacher/student, age gaps, power play, light dom/sub dynamics, switch! to soft dom!soobin, masterbation (f. rec), erotic literature, explicit language and sexual content, spanking, cumming in pants, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, name calling (slut), wet dreams, impact play, oral (m. rec), facefucking, deepthroat, big dick soobin, doggy style, sex on furniture, unprotected sex, creampies, talk of contraception (reader is on birth control), alcohol mentions, drinking and partying, hair pulling, size kink word count. 12. 2 k | ⧼ 📜⊹₊ ⧽ 一 to library.

[notes.] a rewrite of my first ever fic on tumblr, study night! this is a romanticization of student/teacher relationships where both parties are consenting adults, but it is important to note that these relationships can be problematic in real life due to one parties authority over another's and unstable power dynamics. thank you to @jellymochii, @biteyoubiteme and @beomiracles for proofreading! reblogs and feedback are very appreciated <3 i hope you enjoy!

YOUR LINGUISTICS PROFESSOR embodies everything you find detestable in a teacher. His classes are a monotonous drone of information, devoid of anything exciting or engaging, though that might not be entirely his fault with how boring the subject he teaches is. He rarely deviates from whatever script he had thrown together— no doubt just the night before, from the way he rambles and stutters— and he absolutely refuses to entertain any questions or foster any interesting discussion. He never accepted late assignments or gave any extensions, his tests are ridiculously hard, and he’ll dock points off your assignments for the tiniest, stupidest reasons. Sure, it’s a difficult course, and it’s important to your major, but you swear he seems to take some kind of pleasure in making his students miserable. Each class feels like an eternity, and often you find yourself counting down the minutes until you can escape the insufferable, suffocating atmosphere of his classroom.

Yet, for some strange, inexplicable reason, you find yourself absolutely obsessed with him.

Maybe it was because you spent your time in his class focusing more on him than any of the words that came out of his mouth. His irritatingly handsome, angular face and his pouty, kissable lips, how he turns red and gapes like a fish out of water when he’s talking himself into a corner or is asked a question he doesn’t know how to answer. His big veiny hands and how they look when he waves them around animatedly, filling your head with thoughts of how they would look caressing your body. His tall, fit body and how he towers over you whenever you come up to him, the way he has to lower his head to look you in the eye, a soldering heat bubbling in your belly from the way he makes you feel so small. The way he loves to pepper his lectures with painfully unfunny dad jokes, and the way he gets all blushy when no one laughs. It makes you cringe, but in some odd way you also find it incredibly endearing. Sometimes you even catch yourself giggling quietly, stupid and u lovesick puppy. You can’t stand to be his student, but you dream at night about being something else to him entirely— it’s a paradox that drives you to detrimental distraction. How can you be so obsessed with someone you loathe? His perplexing combination of qualities was like some kind of mystery you felt compelled to unravel, at the very least to put your own mind at ease.

That was when you found the novel. It was hidden in the romance section of your favorite used bookstore, squished between two old technicolor cover harlequin novels, it’s dark and simple spine juxtaposing against all the bright colors and ornate fonts. It intrigued you enough to pull it from the shelf and look it over, your cheeks heating up as you take in its cover. A headless, well-dressed man sat in a chair with his legs spread invitingly, the smart suit he was wearing disheveled and his undone belt held tightly in his hand, the leather strap resting against his inner thigh. The title Lessons in Attraction was printed where his head would be, vague but provocative enough to make your stomach flip. The man immediately reminded you of Professor Choi, from the way he was dressed to the prominent veins in his hands, and when you flip the book over to read the synopsis you understand the connection. It outlines the story of a steamy romance between a strict economics professor and his teaching assistant, an innocent, young virgin who wants nothing more than to please. It was as if the author had plucked your deepest fantasies straight from your head and printed them out on paper, then planted the book in the perfect spot for you specifically to discover. You knew just from skimming through the pages that reading it would only do you more harm than good, but you just couldn’t put it down, drawn to the story like an addict needing a fix. You hid it in your stack of textbooks, and you refused to look the cashier in the eye as they checked you out.

At first, you had intended to keep it hidden in your bedroom, only to be read late at night when your roommates were either out or asleep. But as your obsession with your professor continued to deepen, so did your obsession with the novel; soon you found yourself taking it with you everywhere you went, reading snippets whenever you had the chance and quickly shoving back into your bag anytime someone would walk by or glance over at you. Your dreams devolved into graphic, vivid replays of your favorite dirty scenes, with Professor Choi in the place of the professor from the story. You wake up hot and bothered every morning, and his class becomes even more difficult with your head now full of illicit, naughty fantasies. Everything he does makes your belly swirl with need, even something as simple as running a hand through his hair or adjusting his glasses— you can’t even bare to look at him, and instead try your hardest to focus on whatever boring tangent he was rambling on about… until you caught yourself fantasizing about how his deep voice would sound whispering dirty words in your ear.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Professor Choi’s lectures were beginning to feel more like sick torture— you needed something to keep you distracted before you went insane.

So, against your better judgement, you started to bring the novel to read in class. You sat far enough in the back that you were certain he wouldn’t notice, and your poor classmates were too bored out of their minds to look your way. It was easy to keep it hidden away tucked in your lap, so you could pretend to be writing in your notebook while you read. Something about it excited you, reading about fucking your professor with your real professor standing there in front of you, none the wiser. Being able to admire him as you indulged in your secret desires. If he caught you, you would be humiliated, but you would be lying if you said that the thought didn’t excite you a little too…

“Miss L/N, what are you doing?”

You nearly shoot straight out of your chair, your professor’s sudden call of your name shocking you out of your reverie. You had gotten so absorbed into your novel that you had forgotten to check to see if he was looking your way. “H-huh?”

“You keep looking at your lap.” Professor Choi remarks, peering up at you from his spot at the podium with an unamused frown. His thick-rimmed glasses made his pretty brown eyes appear even larger than they already were, blinking up at you like he was studying you through a magnifying glass. “You’re not on your phone, are you? You know I have a no-tolerance policy when it comes to electronics.” [GU1]

“Oh! No, sir, I’m just…” your startled gaze bounces back to the book in your lap, and you swallow nervously. “Reading.”

“Reading?” Professor Choi echoes, raising his brow. “What are you reading? I assume it’s not the textbook, from the look on your face.”

You blanche, trying your hardest to appear nonchalant as you snap the book shut and shove it down into the recesses of your school bag. “It’s nothing!” You reply far too quickly, sounding guiltier than sin.

Professor Choi blinks, his magnified eyes raking over your sweating face before trailing down to your bag, clasped protectively in your lap.

“Give it to me.” he orders curtly, stretching out his hand.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. “What?! W-why?!”

“Reading anything that isn’t the course material is against my class rules— I have it printed clearly on the syllabus, though with how you can never seem to pay attention I wouldn’t be surprised if you missed it when I went over it at the beginning of the semester. I would recommend looking over it again to see if there’s anything else you’ve forgotten. Now, get up and hand me that book.”

The entire class has turned to look at you now too, dozens of pairs of eyes fixated on your every move. The silence is absolutely deafening. Your heart races and your hands tremble as you squirm in your seat, trying desperately to come up with some sort of escape as if you were in a horror movie; you might as well be, because out of all the ghouls and monsters you can think of, this has to be your worst nightmare.

You consider refusing. Technically, Professor Choi couldn’t force you to do anything you didn’t want to— hell, you could walk right out of the classroom right then and there if you really wanted to, with both your book and your dignity intact. After all, you were a grown adult paying to further your education out of your own pocket. Trying to confiscate your belongings as if you were a child was borderline insulting.

But you can’t risk your grade over something like this, as embarrassing as it was, and you wouldn’t put it past him to penalize you in some way for defying your orders. You were already struggling as it was, partly because of how difficult the coursework was and mostly because of how you could never concentrate whenever Professor Choi was around. To make matters even worse, passing was a requirement for your degree. Getting even more on his bad side than you already were simply not an option.

It takes every ounce of energy you have to force yourself to stand up out of your seat and trudge down to Professor Choi’s podium, clutching your novel against your chest like you were clutching pearls. He has to pry it out of your hand with a considerable amount of force, because you can’t seem to loosen your fingers around the cover.

You scamper back to your seat, but not before turning back to see Professor Choi eye the cover with a startled expression. It would have been comical if you didn’t feel like you were seconds away from throwing up all over your desk.

He places it gingerly face-down on his desk like he was handling a dead fish, and you’re both grateful and horrified that he noticeably avoids making eye contact with you when he steps back up on his podium. “You can come by my office later to get it back, Miss L/N. I have a free period at six.”

“Yes, sir.” You answer glumly, staring at your shoes.

Luckily for you, he dismisses the class only a few minutes later, muttering about something to do with grading papers. You’ve never ran out of that lecture hall so fast in your life.

“Whoa, what’s up with you?” your friend Beomgyu asks when you walk by him in the hall, backpack and skateboard in hand without a care in the world. “You look live you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

You stop just long enough to realize that you were still running, even though you had made it nearly halfway across the building. “I’m so fucked.” You state simply.

“What? What happened? Did you do something to piss off Professor Choi again?”

“Yes. No. Kind of?” you cringe inwardly. There’s absolutely no way you’re telling Beomgyu about any of what happened; he’d laugh at you to the point you fear you might actually start crying. “I don’t want to talk about it. I gotta go.”

You shuffle away before he can respond, and while you feel bad ignoring him as he calls out to you in confusion, you’re focused solely on finding somewhere quiet and empty to hide out until your next class. And maybe grabbing an iced coffee or something. Just to drown out the tears as you wallow in your own misery.

Against all odds, you manage to make it through the rest of your classes. The wait was almost worse than getting caught, barely able to sit still in your seat as you panic inwardly for hours on end. If it was Professor Choi’s intention to psychologically torture you, he wildly succeeded.

And you’re absolutely sure it was, because the first thing you see once you step into his office is your professor lounging back in his chair reading your book.

“Professor!” you yelp.

Professor Choi glances up from your book, a mischievous glint shining in his eyes as he sends you a tight-lipped smile. “Oh, Miss Y/N! You’re just in time. I was just flipping through your book here, it seems awfully… interesting.”

You gulp, your trembling hands clutching the strap of your bag in a vain attempt to ground yourself. “Um, sir!” you squeak, rushing to his side to glance over his shoulder at what page he was on, praying to whatever god that will listen that he hasn’t read anything raunchy. “I think it would be best if you, um, didn’t read that…”

“Oh?” Soobin flips the page and quirks his brow, not even sparing you a second glance as he adjusts his glasses, “What do you mean?”

You rack your brain desperately for a good enough excuse, but you can’t think of anything other than just how mortified you were, watching helplessly as your professor’s keen eyes scan over the pages. “Can I have it back now?” you say instead, your voice small and shaking.

“Surely you can wait just a little longer— now I’m dying to know why you don’t want me to read this.” Professor Choi’s crooked, dimpled smirk infuriates you.

Was there any possible way that you could talk your way out of this without telling him upfront that what he was holding in his hands was an erotica, one about a teacher and a student no less? You shuffle nervously, stumbling over your words as you try to stutter out something, anything, “You, um… you wouldn’t like it.”

He turns his head to look up at you again, the look in his eye sharply changing when he takes in your frightened state, into something you don’t recognize and aren’t sure you like. “How can you be sure I wouldn’t enjoy it? I’m a fan of many different genres of literature, though I’ve never read anything quite like this before. Is it some sort of romance novel? If it is, you don’t have to be ashamed, Miss Y/N. I’m sure many young women such as yourself read these sorts of novels, though I strongly discourage reading them while I’m in the middle of a lecture. It’s simply disrespectful. Now, where was I?”

He trails his finger down the page as if he was looking for his place, and you bristle. “Sir, seriously, don’t—!”

“I followed my professor to his office, watching with bated breath as he rounded his big wooden desk.” Professor Choi reads aloud. You barely stop yourself from screaming, instead letting out a sort of pained choking sound. “He stopped to stand behind me, looking down my shoulder as if he were looking over my essay just as I was. I had made three errors in my writing, each one circled in bright red ink. He seemed more upset about it than usual.”

“Professor, please.”

“’Put that essay on my desk.’ he said, so I did.” Professor Choi continues, ignoring you. He had gave the professor character a stupid, high pitched voice when he spoke, which would have been funny if you weren’t so humiliated. “’Now bend over with your elbows on my desk, so that you are looking directly at the essay. Keep your face very close.’”

“Stop it! Just let me have it!” You hated to talk to him this way, but if he continued reading any further… it took everything you had to keep yourself from running out of his office and crawling into the nearest ditch to die in.

“That’s not how you should speak to me, Miss Y/N. Now you certainly aren’t getting it back.” Professor Choi retorted, his evil little smirk growing even wider. You wanted to hit him, or kick or scream, but you couldn’t do anything except stand there and try your hardest not to cry. “I was puzzled, but I followed his instructions, bending over the top of his desk so that my chest, belly and arms were pressed against the hardwood. My nose was merely a centimeter or two away from the letter, which made it difficult to read. My skirt was starting to… to slide up the backs of my thighs, but I was sure that if I moved to tug it back down, I would just get into even more trouble.”

You grimace when Professor Choi’s voice broke, his smile slowly starting to slide off his face. But he did not stop reading. “’Now read the letter to yourself. Read it over and over again.’ My professor said. I read: “In today’s rapidly evolving global landscape, the integration of technology in…” and at the word “integration”, which I had misspelled, he— he… um… Oh.”

You began to feel less like wanting to die and more like you were actually dying. Professor Choi stared hard at the pages for a painfully long moment, his ears turning bright cherry red, but to your surprise and absolute mortification, he began to read aloud again. His voice had dropped that cheerful quality, however, sounding winded as if he had been hit upside the head. “At the word “integration”, which I had misspelled, he reeled his arm back and spanked me hard. I stopped reading with a loud gasp, shocked— the sting reverberated through my core, fiery hot, and despite my embarrassment I began to soak through my panties. At my silence, I was spanked again, even harder. ‘I said read it.’ My professor reminded me. ‘Be a good girl and follow instructions.’”

Professor Choi shut the book closed abruptly and looked up at you with a very red face and wide eyes. The tears that had been pooling in your lashes threatened to spill down your cheeks, so overcome with fear and embarrassment that your stomach turned like you were going to be sick. That was just what you needed to top off this already life-ruining experience, wasn’t it; vomiting all over your professor after he uncovers your darkest, dirtiest secret.

“This is extremely inappropriate material to bring on campus.” Professor Choi finally says, his voice wavering.

“Yes, sir.”

“And that relationship, it’s… wrong. It’s against the university’s code of conduct. I— he could get fired for that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You shouldn’t be reading this. It’ll put... thoughts in your head that don’t need to be there.”

“…Yes, sir.” Part of you wants to argue with him, remind him that you’re an adult and can read whatever it is that you would like, but you don’t have the strength to.

He sighs heavily, like something important is weighing on his mind, and he hands you back your book before turning back to pour over the scattered, forgotten papers on his desk. “Go home, Miss L/N. And get rid of that book.”

You turn tail and scamper out into the hall, but you can’t help but glance back into Professor Choi’s office as you leave. He’s hunched over his desk with his elbows resting on the wood, his fingers tangled in his dark hair as he rests his head in his hands. It seems like something is bothering him, something bigger than grading papers or your stupid, silly book.

You don’t stick around to find out what it is.

The next morning, you receive a rather hastily written email from Professor Choi telling you that he’s cancelling classes for the rest of the week. He’s come down with a cold, he claims— you and the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach know better than to believe that.

You don’t see him until next Monday, but even then he might as well not have shown up at all. He struggles to get through his lesson plan even more than usual, and he wouldn’t look away from his papers or the projector, even when one of your classmates raised their hand to ask a question. You spent the entire period gathering up the courage to go up to him after his lecture, but when you do he brushes you off with a lame, half-baked excuse about having papers to grade and no time to talk, grabbing his things in a rush and scampering out of the lecture hall before you can call out for him to come back.

The pit in your stomach opens up into a black hole, swallowing up everything except for overwhelming, gnawing anxiety. It’s eating you up inside, manifesting itself in how you’ve chewed your lips until they bled, and then bit your nails down to the quicks— anyone with eyes could see that something was weighing on you, and you became increasingly tired of all your friends asking if anything was wrong, so once you were finished with your classes you took to hiding out in your dorm room curled up on the couch, your favorite fluffy blanket wrapped around you as you sullenly binge-watched a k-drama you’ve seen a thousand times.

While you were more of a homebody, your two roommates were much the opposite. Karina and Giselle loved to go out and party. Tonight was no different, the two of them flittering around the dorm as they got ready to go out to some club, and while they had given up on trying to get you to join them a while ago, something about the way you moped about seemed to reinvigorate Karina’s desire to get you off of your ass and out on the town. She knew you better than anybody, and immediately she could sniff out that something was off.

“Why don’t you come with us? You can borrow one of my dresses.” She offers, rummaging through her collection of high heels. “It’s a Friday night, everyone’s out! We can dance, we can find some boys to take home; it’ll be fun. You look like you need some.”

“I don’t need to have fun. I need to study.” You reply solemnly, scowling, but you make no moves to get up off the couch. It was a shitty excuse even to your own ears; it was obvious you didn’t have any plans to do anything tonight except feel sorry for yourself.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” She huffs. You don’t even have to look at her to know that she’s rolling her eyes. “Something’s bothering you and you won’t even tell me or Gigi what’s wrong. Don’t you think a drink or two would be good for you? You can vent to us all night, too. I promise we’ll listen.”

“I don’t know if I even want to tell you about it.”

“Why not? We’re your best friends, Y/Nie. You can tell us anything, even if it’s stupid or embarrassing. If it’s bothering you this badly, it’s clearly something serious.”

You peer out from under the blanket to look over at Karina— the worry in her eyes makes your heart sink. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t even consider taking her or Giselle up on their offers, but the way you were stuck running circles inside your head was far from normal. “You promise not to laugh at me?” She smiles warmly. “Nope. But I promise I’ll hear you out regardless.”

The loud, thumping bass reverberating throughout the club did very little to help ease your pounding headache. Your temples throbbed with every beat, the pressure so severe it felt as if your skull was just moments away from splitting in two. You don’t think you’ve ever been this uncomfortable in your life; the dress that Karina gave to you was a size or two too small, the shiny fabric so tight around your chest that you gasp for air. It would be difficult for you to breathe even in properly fitting clothes, the air hot and heavy from the throngs of sweaty bodies that surrounded you. You felt claustrophobic, the crowd closing in on you and threatening to swallow you whole— the only place to escape was to the bar, but even there you’re bombarded with flashing lights, deafening music, and the overlapping voices of everyone around you. You have to strain your ears to make out what Giselle was saying, and she was just on the barstool right next to yours.

“Aren’t you glad you came?” She giggles, sipping on a brightly colored cocktail. She had ordered a round of them for all three of you, and the amount of alcohol mixed in them felt like a sucker punch to the face, even with all the sickeningly sweet grenadine the bartender had used to try and mask the flavor. You watch in abject horror as both she and Karina downed them one by one like they were water.

“No.” you reply honestly.

“You will once you tell us what’s going on with you!” Karina interjects from your other side. “I meant it when I said I wanted you to vent to us, let it all out and give us the tea! Aeri’s dying to know.”

“It’s really embarrassing…” you admit, staring forlornly down at your own drink. “I’d rather just forget all about it.”

“It can’t be that bad. You didn’t drop your pants in front of everyone or anything, did you?”

You cringe. “God, no. It’s not like that.”

“Then it’s nothing you can’t tell us about.” Giselle shoots you a smile over the rim of her glass.

“It’s… it’s about Professor Choi.”

“Our linguistics professor?” Karina cocks her head. “Isn’t he the one you have a massive crush on?”

Your cheeks flush, your drink becoming even more interesting as you avoid looking at either of them in the eye. “Maybe.”

“Ugh, your taste in men is the worst.” Giselle snickers. “I don’t understand why you like him so much. He’s such a dick.”

You fight down the urge to defend him— for some odd reason, you feel a surge of protectiveness over Professor Choi, even when you completely agree with what Giselle is saying about him. “Yes, I like him, but that’s not the point. The point is that I totally fucked up and now I think he hates me.”

“What did you do?! Please tell me you cursed him out, he fucking deserves it.”

“No, Gigi, oh my God.” Even the mere thought of doing something like that sends shivers down your spine. “He caught me reading during class.”

“…That’s it? You’re freaking out over that?” Giselle blinks.

“It’s what I was reading that’s the problem.” you lament miserably, gathering your courage with a sip of your disgusting cocktail. “I have this book; it’s about a teacher and a student… getting together, if you know what I mean. It’s really dirty… and he caught me reading it in class. He took it, and then he read it himself right in front of me! He thinks I’m a freak. It’s been two days and he won’t even look at me.”

Karina and Giselle stare at you.

“Why the hell were you reading a smut book in class?!” Karina gasps, her dark glittery makeup making her wide eyes look even wider. “And one about a professor, too— were you trying to get caught? There’s better ways to go about telling him that you want to fuck him.”

“I don’t know— I was bored and stupid, okay?!” You had been asking yourself the same question for days, mentally beating yourself to a pulp every time it crossed your mind. “I thought he wouldn’t notice me since I sat in the back… now he’s going to tell the dean, and I’m going to get expelled, and—”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Giselle stops you in your downwards spiral, grabbing your shoulder to ground you. “You’re thinking too hard about this. He’s probably just a prude. If he was going to do something like that, he would have probably done it by now. Plus, I don’t think that’s really something you can be expelled over.”

You lean into her touch, resting your head on her shoulder as she pats your back comfortingly. “He’s mad at me…” you whine petulantly. “I was trying to get that TA position, too… fuck, I’m so screwed.”

“What would he be mad at you for? Being horny?” Karina laughs, “It’s really his own fault for snooping in your stuff.”

“I think you’ll still get it.” Giselle supplies helpfully. “You’ve really got nothing to worry about. Sure, your grade sucks, but I’ve seen the two of you talking in the hallway before— the way he looks at you is insane. And the way he looks at your ass when you leave is even crazier. You just showed him that you feel the same way about him that he does about you.”

“Don’t say that.” You groan. “You think that about every guy I talk to. There’s no way in hell that Professor Choi feels anything for me except hatred.”

“If you’re really that worried about it, you can always just apologize.” Karina says, drumming her long nails against her glass. “It might not do anything, but it’ll make you feel better.”

That was the first bit of real advice either her or Giselle had given you in a while, even if it left a bad taste in your mouth. “I don’t know. I feel like that would just make things worse. I need to go to the bathroom.”

You scramble off the barstool in a rush, teetering on your heels— you weren’t even that tipsy, but every step made you feel like a newborn deer. Karina and Giselle watch you hobble away in pity.

You stumble through the crowd in search of a bathroom sign, quickly getting lost in the sea of bodies. There’s little room to move around, everyone pressed up against each other dancing, too intoxicated to notice you trying to politely squeeze by. They jostle and knock you around, and you nearly trip over your own wobbly feet multiple times. Your headache grows nearly unbearable, your desperation to find an escape leading you to start pushing people out of the way so you can continue to move forward. One particularly drunk woman nearly knocks you to the ground, and she shoots you a dirty look over her shoulder when you shoulder past her roughly. You hate to be rude, but you’re teetering dangerously close to your breaking point. You need to find some peace and quiet, and fast.

But all of that goes out the window when among the countless bobbing and weaving heads, you spot a frighteningly familiar pair of broad shoulders.

“Professor Choi?!” you call out in shock, shoving your way towards him. “What are you doing here?!”

Without his suits and big clunky glasses on, you almost don’t recognize him. He was leaning back against the wall with two men who you vaguely recognize as other professors at the university, talking and laughing amongst themselves with beers in their hands. You admire the curve of his tall nose, the way his pronounced collarbones peeked out from the loose linen shirt he wore, the first few buttons undone to show a delicious strip of tan skin. His dark hair, usually gelled back to show his forehead, was left fluffy and untamed, framing his pretty brown eyes. He jumps a little at your voice, turning away from the men to look at you.

His eyes widen sharply, moving slowly from your face down to your chest. They linger there for a moment, blinking owlishly, before he tears them away from you completely, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

“Oh, um. Hello, Miss L/N.” he stutters, suddenly very interested in the state of his shoes. You make a quick mental note to thank Karina later for convincing you to squeeze yourself into this stupid dress.

“Oh, this is Y/N?” One of the men slurs gleefully, a grin stretching across his handsome face. There was a certain hunger in the way he undresses you with his fox eyes, scanning you head to toe like a predator. You could tell from his flushed pink cheeks that he was very drunk. “I’ve heard all about you! It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”

Something odd flashes in Professor Choi’s eyes and he jerks his head to shoot his friend a deathly glare. He doesn’t seem to notice.

“You’ve… heard about me?” you cringe, your heart sinking. Out of whatever Professor Choi had to say about you, none of it could be anything good.

“Oh, not much, just that you’re one of the brightest students that he’s ever taught.” The other man cuts in, chuckling. He tips his head back and takes a swig of his beer, flashing you his sharp jawline. “One of his favorites to have in class, he says.”

“Such a smart head on those little shoulders! You should consider taking my econ course next year, it’d be a gift to see your pretty face in my class.” The first man adds, his crooked smirk widening.

“Yeonjun, Chan, please.” Professor Choi grits out through his teeth, anxiously running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, what did you say, Miss L/N?”

You splutter as your lips refuse to form words. You?! The brightest student he’s ever had?! That was just a complete and utter lie; if it wasn’t for Giselle helping you with an extra credit assignment you had practically begged him on your knees for, you would be failing his class spectacularly. You couldn’t fathom why Professor Choi would say something like that to these two men, when nearly every class he was scolding you for being late, distracted, forgetting your deadlines, a combination of all three and more. Not only that, but with what had transpired the other day still fresh and stinging… they had to be saving face or making some kind of sick joke. As you collect your thoughts, you half expect them to start pointing and laughing.

“What are you doing here?” you repeat, peering up at Professor Choi’s blushing face. He avoids meeting your eyes, just like how he was in class.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy the start of my weekend?” he retorts, fiddling with the pull tab on his beer. “Clearly, you’re doing the same.”

He spits out the words like they left a bad taste in his mouth. It stung like an insult. “I thought you said you were busy.” you assert, biting your lip to keep from scoffing. The liquor giving you a little too much courage; he was still Professor Choi, even if now standing in front of you he looked like just any other guy.

“I… was.” He mumbles, “And now I’m not anymore. It’s really not any of your business.”

It takes everything you have to keep from blurting out that your book really wasn’t any of his business either, but you manage to hold your tongue.

“I’m sorry, I just— Sir, I need to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He says matter-of-factly. It’s far from what you were expecting him to say.

“What do you mean?” you challenge, your annoyance starting to turn sour. “It’s about the other day.”

Professor Choi continues to play dumb, though he keeps throwing sidelong glances to his coworkers. “What about it?”

“I want to apologize.” You bite hard on your lower lip. For doing nothing wrong.

Professor Choi’s eyes snap up to meet yours, inky dark irises wide in shock. “Y/N—”

“Apologize?” Professor Choi’s friend— Yeonjun— butts in, raising an eyebrow. “What happened?”

All the color leaves Professor Choi’s face, even the blush that was slowly trailing from his cheeks down his neck. He awkwardly clears his throat and averts his gaze, putting on a show of cupping his ear and pretending to be confused. “Sorry, I can’t hear you over all of this noise! If you have a question, I’ll be in my office tomorrow afternoon. Go on and have a good night.”

“Wait, Professor—!”

“Have a good night!”

It takes you a long time to find your way back to the bar, drunk, defeated, and stewing in your own thoughts. You’re pleasantly surprised to see that Giselle and Karina have been sat waiting for you all this time, but you don’t have it in you to feel happy or grateful as you plop yourself back onto your empty barstool. Their irritation quickly shifts to confusion and worry, both shooting you odd glances as Karina tentatively hands you another cocktail.

“Are you okay?”

“Did you get lost or something?”

You take a long sip, the disgusting sweetness and the bitter liquor overpowering your senses enough to calm your racing thoughts. “I think I’m going to go and talk to Professor Choi tomorrow.” is all you say.

“If you fuck him, please put in a good word for me.” Giselle slurs drunkenly in reply. “I need to pass that fucking class.”

“You’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you, Miss L/N?” Professor Choi whispers in your ear, his deep voice dripping with honeyed venom. The fabric of his dress shirt ghosts over your back, his body so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his skin. He has you trapped against his big wooden desk, bent over it obscenely with your ass in the air as you whimper and squirm. Your skirt and panties pool at your ankles, leaving your most intimate areas exposed for him to view. Your leaking pussy quivered from the icy cold air, your hole clenching desperately around nothing and aching to be filled.

“I’m sorry!” You mewl, voice wavering.

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you sorry for?” he presses, so deliciously condescending in the way he feigns ignorance, “Apologize to me properly and tell me what it was that you did.”

“I’ve been bad, sir. I was reading during your lecture, and I’m sorry—”

“Oh, you weren’t just reading.” Professor Choi scoffs, straightening himself up and off your back. He rounds the desk to circle you like prey, his slow methodical steps echoing throughout the quiet of his office. They echo in your ears and strike a dizzying mix of fear and anticipation in your heart.

“I-I was reading smut and…” your face burns hotter than the sun, and you close your eyes and take a deep breath to will yourself to have the courage to admit what it was you were caught doing. “…And I was touching myself.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.” He stops to stand at your side, his mere presence hovering above you enough to make you shudder. “Tell me exactly how you were touching that slutty little pussy.”

His words go straight to your core, making you squeeze your thighs together in need. Just a little friction was all you needed, and the edge of his desk granted a great opportunity… but as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t let yourself give in to desperation and grind yourself against Professor Choi’s desk like a dog in heat. He would notice immediately, and it would only worsen your punishment.

“I was… I was rubbing my clit through my panties.” you admit ashamedly, “Grinding against my fingers. I was going to put one inside but you… you stopped me.”

“I could see your hand up your skirt all the way from the back of the class.” Professor Choi spits, his carefully controlled demeanor cracking and his wild, untamed anger boiling to the surface. “It’s like you’re trying to get the two of us caught. You’re lucky no one else was looking… or was that what you wanted? Did you want everyone to see what a slut you are?”

“N-no!” you gasp, but the idea gets you even wetter; you wanted nothing more than for everyone to know that he was much more than just your professor, that he was yours and in turn you were his. “I’m a slut j-just for you, no one else!”

“Fuck, that’s right.” he groans lowly, his voice dripping sex. He picks up a long wooden ruler off his desk, right by your head, and points the tip at the nape of your neck. It ran slowly down the curve of your spine, a ghostly barely-there touch that left a trail of fire erupt across your skin. He stops at the plush swell of your ass, gently caressing your flesh with the cold wood. “You’re all mine. My favorite little student. You just need some discipline to put you back in your place, hm? Show me what a good girl you can be and count for me.”

He rears his arm back, poised and ready to strike. You can hear the ruler whooshing through the air, sharp and fast as he swings his arm forwards—

Your eyes snap open with a gasp. Suddenly, you’re back in your bedroom, curled up safe and sound in your bed, groggy and disoriented as you slowly come back down to reality. While you dreamt about Professor Choi often, never had one felt this vivid, this real. You can still feel the echoes of his touch, the phantom pain of his ruler against your asscheek haunting you like a ghost. Your panties are soaked through completely, sticky arousal pooling in the fabric and dripping down your thighs, creating a wet spot on your sheets. You toss and turn to try and go back to sleep, but it’s no use; you’re so horny you can’t think straight, can’t ignore the dull throbbing in your core.

As your hand slides under the waistband of your panties, you decide that enough is enough.

You were at your breaking point. Your life had spiraled completely out of control in the span of just two days, all because your stupid puppy-love crush of a professor had to be nosy about your reading material. He just had to find a way to humiliate you even more than he already did, didn’t he? He could’ve just given you your book back and the two of you could have gone on with your lives. He shouldn’t have even taken your book in the first place! You could have continued fantasizing about him from the back of the class, not a worry in the world, instead of losing precious hours of sleep and mentally beating yourself up.

And after your interaction at the bar, you feel even more ridiculous. If Professor Choi truly had the intention of telling someone about what he had caught you reading, wouldn’t he have told the other professors that he was with? And lying to them about you being his smartest student… you couldn’t wrap your head around it.

It was clear that Professor Choi didn’t want to talk about it. But even if he wants to pretend like none of this ever happened, you just couldn’t.

There was simply no other way for you to get over all of this other than finally confronting him. You needed to make the endless spiral stop, tell him exactly what was on your mind and finally put this to bed. The longer you stew over everything that has transpired, the more your fear and anxiety boils over into anger. This was all Professor Choi’s fault! You needed to give him a piece of your mind, or you don’t think you’ll ever be able to move on.

Professor Choi doesn’t answer until after the fifth knock, his face immediately dropping once he swings open his office door to see you standing there in front of him. His hair is a mess and his clothes are disheveled, his tie half undone and his shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows. Anxiously he adjusts his glasses, the wide brown eyes behind them looking like a cornered deer’s. “You actually came over to apologize?” He blurts out before you can even open your mouth, genuine surprise taking over his features. “I didn’t think you—"

“Actually, no, I’m not here to apologize!” you declare, the words spilling out before you gave yourself the time to second guess yourself. You had lied awake until the sun came up thinking about what to say, and you weren’t going to let those wasted hours go to waste. “I’m here to tell you, sir, that going through my book was an invasion of my privacy! And that it’s none of your business what I read! I’m an adult, not a child, and I can do whatever I damn well please!”

Professor Choi blinks owlishly, staring at you in stunned silence for so long that your newfound confidence falters and you begin to shuffle nervously.

“Oh. Um… alright.” He finally says.

“Alright?!” you echo incredulously, your irritation coming back in full swing. “You’ve been avoiding me for days and all you have to say for yourself is alright?!”

Professor Choi’s eyes flicker around anxiously, and it suddenly hits you that you were yelling at him in a public hallway. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“Yes you do!” you shriek. This really wasn’t how you were planning on any of this going, but it was far too late to turn back. You open your mouth to continue your rant, face burning hot with unbridled rage, but Professor Choi quickly grabs your wrist and roughly pulls you into his office. The sudden act shocked you into silence, your eyes wide and mouth agape as he drags you all the way back to his desk.

“Listen.” He growls, his voice octaves deeper than you’ve ever heard it before. “You’re acting way out of line right now. Don’t you dare ever talk to me like that, you understand me? I’m still your professor, even when we’re not in class. You’re to treat me with respect—”

“Then you treat me with respect first!” you retort, though you do manage to calm yourself down enough to lower your voice. “Playing dumb and refusing to talk to me after humiliating me in front of everyone! What was even the point of doing that? Was it just for your own sick pleasure?!”

“Y/N.” Professor Choi sighs, the second time you’ve ever heard him call you by your first name— the first was at the club, but you were far too distracted to dwell on it. “I know you have some sort of feelings for me. You’re not very good at hiding it.”

Your entire world comes crashing around you, though you suppose that you shouldn’t be too surprised. You had just let yourself hope beyond reason that he would never pay you any attention.

“What I’m trying to say is… Y/N, you need to stop it. Get rid of the book. I can’t be with you, it’ll never work, okay? I’m your teacher, and ten years your senior. There’s plenty of college boys around campus for you to ogle over instead.”

“You say you can’t but… do you want to?” you ask quietly, barely above a whisper.

Professor Choi doesn’t meet your eyes. “I could get in a lot of trouble, Y/N. You could too.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” You challenge, a hopeful spark igniting in your chest. He didn’t say no… and you may be looking too into things, or just clinging onto hope, but that was more than enough proof to you that your professor was hiding some feelings of his own.

“We can’t do this.” He mumbles, his voice growing wilder, more defiant.

“Sure we can! I’m an adult, you’re an adult… did I scare you away with my book or something? Look, it’s okay if it wasn’t up your alley. There’s nothing wrong with being vanilla, Professor. You don’t have to, like, spank me or anything—”

“But I do!” he interjects suddenly, his head shooting up to look at you with wild eyes. His entire face was bright crimson red.

“You… wait, what?” you must have misheard him. That was the only explanation, surely; There was no way he actually—

“I can’t stop thinking about it! I thought there was no way you’d be into anything like that, that I needed to stop thinking about you and move on like a professional, but then you go and pull this, and now I can’t go a single second without thinking about putting you over my knee! It’s driving me insane! I can’t even look at you!”

“Professor—”

“Soobin. God, just call me Soobin. I can’t handle you calling me that right now.”

You open and close your mouth a couple of times, surely looking like a fish out of water— This was the absolute last thing you expected to come out of your professor’s— Soobin’s—mouth. Your eyes bulge out of your head, your face burns hotter than the sun… your pussy clenches pathetically. It felt like you were in a dream, almost, which might have been why you suddenly felt so brazen— if you wanted him, and he wanted you, who were you to deny him?

“Then do it.” you say, voice barely above a whisper. Soobin looks just as shocked at your proclamation as you were. “If you want to do it that bad, do it.”

He moves in a flash, giving you no time to prepare— within seconds has you thrown over his lap on his office swivel chair, your hair hanging in your face as you blink wildly at the floor. Soobin brushes one of his big hands against you skirt-clad ass, barely a brush of his fingers, but you still gasp all the same.

“Do you really want this?” He breathes, voice low, his breathing hard—the outline of his cock presses hard against your stomach through his slacks, making it considerably hard to focus on the words that came out of his mouth.

It takes you a moment, but you manage to choke out a whiny “Yes, sir, please.”

Soobin stutters out an uneven breath, his fingers inching down to the hem of your skirt, teasing the tops of your thighs for just a moment before pulling the fabric up to expose your ass, a noticeable wet spot present on your panties.

“So pretty…” He coos. You can feel his cock twitch against your stomach, those long knobby fingers trailing along the edge of your lacy thong. “Is it okay if I take your panties off, bunny?”

You whimper and nod your head— Soobin lands a gentle love-tap to the junction of your thighs with an airy chuckle. “Use your words like a good girl.”

This couldn’t be happening. You had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, or something, anything except truly living through this fantasy come to life— Boring, bland Professor Choi, the biggest prude you thought you knew, was just way too good at this, at making your legs shake and your pussy throb all the while barely touching you. In just an afternoon your reality had shifted from thinking that he had to be the world’s biggest loser virgin to thinking that he was even sexier than the professor in your book.

You weren’t sure how to feel about it, but your cunt did.

You must have stayed silent for too long, because without much warning Soobin lands a much harsher spank to the top of your asscheek. “Bad girl!” he admonishes, and you can hear the teasing, dimpled grin in his voice “C’mon baby, use your big girl words. Tell me how much you want it.” His hot breath fans over your ear— you couldn’t hold in your moan even if you tried, the broken whine sounding weak and pathetic even to your own ears.

“P-Please, sir… please take my panties off. Please spank me.” you whimper, your face beet red and your pussy drooling— Soobin’s deft fingers stroke slowly up and down your folds, feeling the wetness seep through the cotton fabric of your panties. You bite your lip to keep from screaming.

“That’s my good bunny.” You could hear your panties rip as he tears them off of you in one solid motion, the biting cold air meeting your hot soaking cunt and making both you and Soobin hiss. He admires the slick leaking down your thighs for a brief silent moment, deep breathy voice cooing at the way you arch into him and his touch, before he straightens back up and lands a stinging, eye watering spank deliciously close to your core. You yelp at the sting.

“That’s for being a fucking tease,” Soobin states, soothing your reddening flesh with a soft caress of his palm. “Being so fucking hot all the time and driving me crazy because I thought I could never have you.”

You hadn’t realized that this was confessional. Shooting him an evil smile over your shoulder, you giggle, “You could’ve just asked.”

Another spank, this time with even more force. Your hips buck with a shrill cry spilling from your open, panting mouth, your eyes watering— you had no idea Professor Choi was this strong. He refuses to give you any time to prepare, never warning you when the next hit to your ass will come. “I didn’t say you could talk back.” He growls.

You’re on the verge of tears from the red-hot stinging in your ass, but you still giggle at his words. “You’re kinky.”

Soobin just rolls his eyes, spanking you again, albeit a little softer. “And this one’s for being a brat. How about you start counting for me, bunny? That’s one.”

“One?! You’ve hit me four times!” Maybe you were pushing it too far, but it just came naturally to you to fight back, make him work for your submission and obedience. You relished pushing him as far as he would go; you relished losing.

Soobin grabs a handful of your hair and yanks hard, making you gasp loudly and your empty pussy flutter. Leaning down close to your ear, he lets out a warning growl; “I said fucking count.”

You don’t think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. Torn between bucking your hips into Professor Choi’s bulge and pushing back into the touch of his hand, you give a quiet, watery whimper of “One…”

The hand holding your hair lets go, your head falling limply over his knee. “That’s my girl.” He coos lowly, stroking your head.

It distracts you enough that the next harsh slap to your ass feels even more intense than any of the others before it. “T-two…”

“That’s for being so fucking disrespectful. And in front of my colleagues too, no less. It’s like you were asking for me to ruin you.” Soobin tsks. “You need to learn to watch your mouth.”

The urge to say something smart tugs at you again, even if just to prove his point, but another spank rains down on your sore, bruising asscheeks before you can seize the opportunity.

“T-three!”

“And that’s… that’s for pushing me to put you over my lap in the first place. You couldn’t just leave it alone, could you? And now look at you, making me risk my job to teach you a lesson.” Soobin’s voice wavers, filling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place— it was extremely difficult to focus on his words when his fingers began to trail down the curve of your ass to your sticky, quivering folds, rubbings the tip of his thumb right over your clothed core. You moan unabashedly, shifting your hips and opening your legs to give him better access to what was peeking out between your thighs.

The fifth spank never comes. Soobin tugs your panties to the side and pushes two long, thick fingers between your folds, stuttering out a low moan like he was the one being touched. He starts a rough, dizzying pace almost immediately, his fingertips searching for that spongy spot inside of you. You grind your hips back against Soobin’s fingers, a drooling mess against his slacks.

“Pr-Professor…” you whine high in your throat — you want more, want him to speed up, slow down… his touches were driving you wild. You hadn’t been touched like this ever before.

“I told you not to call me that.” He hisses, curling his fingers against your sweet spot and making you keen. “Please, call me by my name.”

“Soobin!” you cry out, writhing against him. You felt a passion rising within you like the hottest fire, clouding your brain. You couldn’t think of anything except of the pleasure that he gave you, couldn’t utter out anything other than his name.

“Such a slut, falling apart just on my fingers…” he chucks huskily, enamored with the filthy wet sounds your cunt made and how they echoed through the quiet office. “I’ve thought about doing this for forever, God… you’re just as beautiful as I thought you’d be.”

His thumb, wet from your arousal, comes down to rub tight, delicious circles against your sensitive, engorged clit, your strangled wail no doubt loud enough to be heard from the hallway. The building ecstasy distracts you enough for him to push in a third finger into your tight hole. The stretch burns but you love it, your hips kicking and moans growing louder and louder as he effortlessly takes you apart.

“...Too much…!” you manage to choke out, digging your teeth into the fabric of Soobin’s slacks to keep yourself from screaming out in bliss. You felt full to the brim, pushed closer and closer to the edge with every rough flick of your clit and thrust of his perfect talented fingers. He teases a fourth finger around your leaking, stretched out rim, the threat of it alone enough to make your eyes roll back in your head.

“Oh bunny, if this is too much there’s no way you’ll be able to take my cock…”

The tears that had been brimming in your eyes start to stream freely down your burning cheeks, choked hiccups and sobs wracking your body, but it was the most pleasurable agony you had ever been in. Your hips move with a mind of their own, bucking against Soobin’s cock, thick and hard as a rock, only seeming to grow bigger and bigger every time you rub against it. You relish the sharp intakes of breath he takes every time you move against him. He was starting to fall apart too, you could tell, his voice sounding a lot less dominating and a lot more whiny and pathetic with each roll of his hips up into your tummy.

“I’m gonna… gonna make you cum on my fingers,” he whines low in his throat, his hand completely soaked in your arousal up to the wrist. “You gonna make a mess for me?”

His fingers dig impossibly and wonderfully hard into your sweet spot, that white-hot band of desire in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with each perfectly aimed thrust. You wail and sob, your hand reaching back to grab a tight fistful of his shirt sleeve. “I-I-m— ‘m gonna cum!”

Soobin’s other hand, the one that had been stroking your hair, then comfortingly up and down your back, rises up to smack your ass, the sudden burst of stinging pain making you scream, and for real this time.

“You gotta ask first, bad girl! Gotta ask for permission b-before you cum…” His voice starts to break, his hips stuttering helplessly— the feeling of his big fat cock grinding hard against you only added to the fire in your belly.

“Can I cum? Please, sir, can I cum? I’ll be a good girl, I promise, just let me cum!” you had no control over your mouth, hardly any conscious at all— all you could focus on was the tightening in your belly, the way Soobin’s fingers thrusted in and out of your pussy so good… you were his brainless whore, fucked dumb on his fingers.

“Shit, go on honey, my good girl, my bunny… cum all over me, make a mess!” with his permission you let yourself topple over the edge, moaning and whimpering like a whore as you soak your thighs, Soobin’s hand, his shirt and slacks with your juices. You lay across his lap twitching for quite some time afterwards, your chest heaving like you had just run a marathon… you’d never come before like that in your life, not as hard or for as long. Soobin was with you the whole way as you come down from your high, sweet as can be as he coos praises into your hair and pats your back, kissing your head when you raised it to look over your shoulder at him.

Slowly, you realize that you no longer feel his bulge poking at your belly. You release your iron grip on his shirt to slide your hand down his chest and abdomen, all the way down to gently cup his very wet crotch. “Sir…?”

“S-sorry, bunny… couldn’t help it…” he turns his head away from you to hide his glowing red face, but you can see how his blush spreads down his neck and up to the tips of his ears.

“Did you just… cum?” you ask in awe and disbelief, looking down to see a dark stain spreading across the fabric of his slacks. Soobin only mumbles in response, refusing to answer or turn back to look at you, his blush growing an even deeper shade of red. It was all the confirmation you needed.

Professor Choi came in his pants like a virgin without you even needing to touch him. Something about that alights a blazing inferno in your core, your senses overtaken with need even though you had just had an orgasm yourself.

“I want to taste it.” You breathe out, your overwhelming desire eclipsing any rational thought and taking control of your words.

“Y-you… what?” his head snaps back to you in surprise, his eyes wide and clouded with lust as they gaze headily into yours.

“Your cum, wanna taste it, want it on my tongue…” you’ve never spoken like this to anyone, your voice not feeling like your own— the words spill out from between your lips mindlessly, desperate for more of Soobin’s brain numbing pleasure as you rub him through his slacks. His cock twitches underneath your fingertips, beginning to harden again from the ministrations. “Can I please suck you off, sir?”

“Fuck.” Soobin moans, rough and deep in his chest, the sound shooting straight to your sensitive pussy. “Yeah you can, naughty girl, come on, get on your knees and suck my cock. Clean up my mess.”

Your entire body feels limp and weak, not wanting to cooperate with you as you slide off of Soobin’s lap to the floor. It takes great effort to get yourself situated, kneeling on the floor with your unsteady hands grasping at his thick thighs. He widens his legs to give you more room to get comfortable, one of his big hands instinctively coming down to tangle in your hair as your own begin to slide up the insides of his thighs towards his straining belt buckle.

Ever so slowly and meticulously you unbuckle Soobin’s belt, the jingling of the metal buckle as it’s casted aside like music to your ears. You pull his pants and boxers down together in one rough tug, Soobin canting his hips to help you guide them down his thighs. His cock springs free and slaps obscenely against his belly, smearing the light fabric of his dress shirt in his thick, viscous cum. You can’t help but stop and stare, enamored by the sheer size of it— nearly as thick as a can and twice the length of one, throbbing veins making your mouth water. Cum still leaks from his angry red tip, fat and bulbous, the entirety of his length wet and shiny down to his heavy, twitching balls and neatly trimmed pubes.

You kiss the tip with a delighted grin, the contact barely-there but enough to make Soobin throw his head back and whimper in delight. Your tongue peeks out from between your lips to slide across his slit, earning a high-pitched needy hiss from the man above you, his long fingers tightening their grip on your hair as you lick down his dripping shaft. His thick, salty cum tastes like ambrosia on your tongue, the delicious bitterness quickly getting you drunk. You can’t stop until you lick him completely clean, and even then it’s impossible for you to pull away, the feeling of his weeping cockhead heavy on your tongue far too addicting. Greedily you suck him into your mouth, relishing in the way his girth stretches your lips before swallowing him deeper and deeper until his tip knocks against the back of your throat. You can hardly fit your hands around him, let alone your mouth, fisting what couldn’t fit down your throat as you start bobbing your head. More broken tears collect on your lashes and drip down your wet cheeks, looking utterly ruined and wanton as you gaze up from between Soobin’s legs into his hazy, unfocused eyes.

The eye contact is too much for him— his eyes roll back in his head with a whimper and his cock twitches violently inside of your mouth, the grip he has on your hair shifting from guiding your head along his shaft to tugging you off him with a sudden and disorienting strength. He pulls you off him with a wet pop, a foamy string of saliva connecting from his shiny cockhead to your needy whimpering lips.

“I’m gonna cum again if you don’t stop,” he pants, gasping for breath, “I gotta fuck that pussy first, bunny, please. Need to feel that tight cunt squeezing around me.”

“D’you wanna cum inside?” you goad, a lustful, mischievous grin overtaking your features, “Don’t worry, Soobin, I’m on the pill. You can fill me up if you want to.”

Your words make him visibly shake, what was left of his flimsy resolve crumbling right before your eyes, leaving nothing but primal hunger. “Get on the fucking desk.”

You obey immediately, hardly able to contain your excitement as you stumble to your feet and bend over Soobin’s big oak desk, wiggling your ass in the air invitingly. Your skirt and panties were still pulled up and pushed aside, exposing your dripping puffy hole for his eyes to feast upon.

“So pretty…” he croons behind you, his hands caressing your hips and waist. They smooth over the exposed globes of your ass, his fingers fiddling with the gusset of your drenched panties. Sheer pink lace that compliments your flushed skin, looks so delectable running through Soobin’s fingers as he grabs your asscheeks and spreads them wide. “You look so cute in pink.”

he hisses in appreciation at the sight of your dripping hole quivering, sliding a finger down between your pussy lips to circle at your engorged clit. “Holy fuck, you’re so wet,” he groans, accentuating his claim with a flick of his hand— your pussy squelches obscenely, the lewd, pornographic sound making your cheeks flush. “I can’t take it anymore, I have to be inside of you— you can take it, right bunny?”

“Please!” you beg, hardly able to string together a sentence, “Please, sir, put it in, I need it so bad, need your cock—”

You’re interrupted by the feeling of his cockhead slapping against your entrance, Soobin running the leaky tip up and down your slit a few times just to hear your little whimper before burying himself inside to the hilt in one smooth thrust. He rams into you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs, his long fat shaft stretching out your hole much more than you could have ever been prepared for. The burn is indescribable, overwhelming every single one of your senses in the best way, your tight gummy walls gripping his cock like a vice as the both of you struggle to adjust.

He's so deep inside of you it feels as if he’s poked through your cervix and into your womb, his big fat mushroom head snug right beneath your belly button. You’re so deliciously full that it makes your head spin, already fucked completely brainless before Soobin had even begun to properly move.

“Does it hurt?” he asks you softly, so gentle compared to how he carved out your insides. In any other circumstance you would find it sweet that he was this concerned, but you were certain that if he didn’t start moving inside of you right then and there, you were going to die.

“More.” you croak back in response. “Give it to me.”

With a winded groan, Soobin relents. He pulls his cock out until just the head was inside of you, giving you not a single moment to prepare before slamming back in with a force that knocks you further up on the desk. The hardwood against your cheek does nothing to muffle your loud, unabashed shriek, so he improvises by shoving two of his thick fingers past your open lips, the musky tang of your own juices filling your mouth when you suck hungrily at the digits. He set up a punishing rhythm within seconds, his hips clapping loudly and wetly against your ass while he muffles your whines and wails. His heavy balls smack against your oversensitive clit with every rough thrust, sending shockwave after shockwave of pleasure straight to your core. The desk cuts into the skin of your hips painfully, but if anything, it only adds to the burning sweetness building steadily in the pit of your belly.

“F-fuck, I’m close already!” Soobin puffs against the shell of your ear, pressing himself up against your back— you’re suddenly thrown back into your dream from the night before, the way the sensations were eerily similar yet nowhere near as good as the real thing. “Gonna cum inside you, is that okay? Wanna see how pretty your pussy looks dripping my cum.”

You can only drool in response, your thoughts fragmented and scattered, babbling desperate nonsense and rolling your hips back to meet Soobin’s thrusts with a dizzying force. Your body vibrates with liquid fire, heating your puffy cunt and quivering thighs— faster than ever before were you hurtling towards your climax, that familiar tightening in your core growing harder and harder to bear. You wanted nothing more than to yield to the tide, let it overtake you completely, and in turn pull Soobin down with you.

Your professor was going to cum inside of you. The fantasies that had haunted you for months truly became a tangible reality. What did you do to make you so lucky?

“This slutty pussy’s sucking me in so fucking tight,” Soobin groans, his thrusts growing sloppier, “Tell me you want my cum, baby, come on. Who’s cum do you want inside of you? Tell me and I’ll give it to you!”

“Yours!” you shriek with the last remaining bits of your energy, your words nearly incomprehensible to how you sniffled and sobbed around Soobin’s fingers. “Want your cum— my professor’s cum inside of me!”

You took a gamble, but it was just what he wanted to hear. With one last aggressive thrust, Soobin bottoms out inside of your pulsating cunt, his bulbous cockhead kissing your battered cervix as he cums with a broken cry. The sensation of his sticky, hot seed splashing against your insides is just what you need to tip over the edge yourself, your walls clamping down on him and milking him for all he’s worth as you ride out your own climax with long, surrendering moans. He hisses from the overstimulation, but he makes no movements to pull out, letting himself soften inside of you as you both struggle to catch your breaths. Thick viscous globs of your mixed cum leak out from where you’re connected, dripping down your thighs and Soobin’s balls to collect in a puddle on the floor.

You gaze over your shoulder to watch as Soobin slowly and carefully pulls out, a creamy, foamy white ring formed around the base of his cock. His glasses were fogged up from his heavy breathing, his hair and clothes even more a mess than it was when he had first opened the door, his pink face so irritatingly kissable when he shoots you a nervous dimpled smile.

You cant help but giggle at him.

“You’re not going to… tell anyone about this, are you?” he asks you anxiously, opening one of the desk’s drawers to retrieve a packet of tissues.

“As long as you explain to me why you told those other professors that I was your best student.” You reply smartly, your grin widening when he scowls.

“It was the only way I could think of how to explain why I talk about you so much.” He admits shyly, wiping down the mess between your thighs. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather if we continued that charade so it doesn’t look suspicious when I ask you to come to my office every once in a while.”

“Will you give me that TA position then?”

“You technically don’t qualify,” He laughs, “but I thought that was a given.”

“You won’t regret bending the rules a little, I promise.” You tell him with a wink and a smile. The love-stricken, goofy dimpled grin he shoots back at you makes your heart soar.

“I know I won’t.”

𝒯O𝔐ORROW X 𝒯O𝒢E𝒯HER 𝒯A𝒢L𝒾S𝒯 ⪼

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beomiracles · 10 days ago

Text

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 TAPE 01

𝓓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝓔𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐘 ⸝⸝ Moving rapidly through your career as one of the leading female investigators, you never once encountered a case you couldn't crack. Though you never expected for your past mistakes to come back and haunt you in the form of an ex lover, accused of murder. ⸝⸝

𝓹airings criminal!beomgyu x detective!reader 𝔀arnings blood, character death, descriptions of violence/slight gore, implied sexual encounters, womanizer!beomgyu, making out, penetrative sex, public sex, alcohol consumption.

📼 THE TAPE RECORDINGS

𝓣𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝓢𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 contains dark themes portraying unhealthy and toxic relationships and substance abuse. reader discretion is advised ! — this story is partly told in flashbacks, beware of timestamps as past/present are mixed throughout the story.

#serene adds ✎.. heh, realised after I hit post that I forgot to add a little note for myself on here. hmm... criminal conscience yes, I missed this series, a lot :3 super happy for it to be back, and better than ever !

[ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။| TAPE 01 ] — Stay Away From Choi Beomgyu — recording length; 5.9k

📼 — April 5th 2023

It was cold. Your cheeks were wet, and whether that was from the rain pouring down on you, or the endless tears streaming down your face you didn’t know. But it was cold. It was dark too, awfully so. Yet you could clearly make out the image of him, his hunched over figure, his bloody hands moving without even the slightest tremble as they clenched and unclenched into fists. For a moment it looked like he wanted to reach out, to touch you.

The way you flinched, taking a quick step backward made him frown. “Dollface..” He tries, his voice uncharacteristically soft, the tension on his face easing up, if just for a moment. But you won’t hear it. Fuck, you could take the drugs, the lying and the cheating…Suppose you never were together in the end, not officially at least. — And you could take it. All of it.

This was different. This was… You glance between the blood on his shirt, down to his bruised knuckles. You knew what he’d done. Something truly unforgiving, something evil, inhumane. Beomgyu was a terrible person. For months you’d let yourself be blindsighted, too caught up on trying to fit him into the life you’d imagined, into a life that would never be his. Because that was not who he was.

You thought things would be different with you. That you somehow stood out from the rest, that maybe… Maybe he wasn’t as bad as people made him out to be. But you should’ve known. You should’ve known to stay away from Choi Beomgyu.

“You’re a monster.”

It happens before you can even stop it, the way the words fall from your quivering lips. Your voice is strained with the effort of keeping down another sob, and your breath comes out shaky with each exhale. — He doesn’t look surprised, in fact his expression remains perfectly unreadable, just like it always did. That hurts the most you think.

He takes a step forward, his shoes making a wet noise against the muddy ground. The rain makes his clothes cling to his body, his dark hair matted against his face, shielding his dark eyes from view until he pushes the strands back. — “C’mon dollface, we can work this out.” The once sweet nickname now made you feel sick. Butterflies no longer surged within your stomach, though, you’re not so sure that they ever had.

You shake your head, adamant in your decision as you swallow. “Stay away from me.” Even though your voice is close to cracking it seems to break his trance, and Beomgyu looks confused for the first time. It would’ve been an almost satisfactory sight, had it not been for your current situation. But one quick glance toward the blood smeared all over him makes you want to vomit.

“I never want to see you again.”

And you hoped you never would. With all of your heart and being you wished to never see Choi Beomgyu ever again.

⸝⸝

📼 — PRESENT TIME ; February 19th 2024

“Hello?”

Your words are followed by a thick silence and after almost twenty seconds you sigh. “Are you calling from downstairs again? You know the connection there is terrible.” Another minute passes, and you listen to the bruising noise of nothing for what feels like forever until Yeonjun’s voice finally breaks through on the device.

“Hello? Oh, there you are!” He sounds almost surprised over the fact that the line seemed to actually be working. “Yes, yes I know I shouldn’t be calling from down here, but the elevator’s broken..” — He clears his throat before rapidly continuing. “Alright, I’ve got someone for you, can you make it down to room 31 in ten?”

The groan passing your lips rings out into your office, bouncing off the walls and surely picking up on the phone despite the shitty connection. “Do you know what time it is? I’ve just barely made it here..” You grumble, yet you’re already rising from your chair, eager to be assigned a case from your senior.

Yeonjun hums and you hear the clicking sound of what you assumed to be a pen. “We’ve kept him detained all night, best to get going quickly so we can move him over this afternoon.” He sounds absentminded when he speaks, as if his attention was elsewhere, likely reading off of the file in his hands. Still, you frown at his words.

“Move him? To where, custody? How do you know we’ll have to do that?” Yeonjun doesn’t answer right away, which was unusual for him, and you pause with your hand on the door handle. — “I think it’s best you just come down here”, he then says, the finalisation in his tone evident. You bite the inside of your cheek, your mind suddenly swimming with questions you longed to ask. But you shrug them off, twisting the handle as you step outside.

“Alright, I’ll be there.”

The walk to the basement where the interrogations took place was an even longer one today. With no elevator you’re forced to stumble down four sets of stairs, silently vowing to yourself never to wear heels to work ever again.

Fishing through your pockets, you grab onto the first thing you come across. A small tube of red lipstick, the engravings on its container made your heart skip a beat as you recognized its origin. Oh. You thought you’d gotten rid of that.. But the small cosmetic seemed to have made it during your move not long ago. How odd.

The sound of your heels come to an abrupt halt as you stop to apply the red tint to your lips, using the camera on your far too old phone as a mirror. Despite its long history, the color remained just as bold as it had been when it was brand new. For some reason the revelation made your chest contract. — Screw it, you thought as you pushed the container back into the depths of your pocket. You would make sure to get rid of it on your way home. The past should remain the past, and for good reasons too.

Interrogation room 31 is by the very end of the hall. The lights here had yet to be switched out and some of them flickered in a most uncanny way, setting the scene for something akin to a horror movie. However your worries come to ease when you spot your senior outside the door. Leaning against the wall, Yeonjun pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as his eyes remain glued to the files in front of him.

“Took you long enough”, he huffs without taking his eyes off the clipboard. You raise a threatening fist his way but lower it again with a small grin, “whatever.” Yeonjun cocks an eyebrow your way but doesn’t make an attempt to comment as he instead sighs. — “23 year old male, brought in yesterday around 1am..” He begins, his expression quickly schooling into a more professional one, and you’re instantly reminded of how he used to be when you trained under him.

He flips the paper, eyes dropping as he scans the written documents. “He’s in for first degree murder and attempted arson.” Shit, that’s serious. — “Are there any witnesses?” You ask, interrupting him when your curiosity gets the better of you. Though it would likely be far too soon to determine that. Yeonjun shakes his head, “None have come forward, besides it’s still too early to say.” You nod, heat rising on your cheeks at the small misstep.

“Then, how is he linked to the crime?”

Yeonjun’s eyes snap toward you upon hearing your words, his jaw twitching ever so slightly. “Victim’s DNA on him”, he says as he hands you the file belonging to the victim. Your gaze immediately falls on the number of pictures already gathered from the scene. From the blood covered floorboards to the discarded knife, the bloody bathtub and the victim himself.

“Park Baekhyun”, Yeonjun says as he points to the picture snapped of a man in his mid thirties. He was bruised from head to toe, his limp body awkwardly laid in the full tub. “34, male, cause of death was asphyxiation due to his head being held underwater for an extended period of time.”

Once he’s reached the end of his small debrief, your jaw hangs slack. Whoever did this had no intentions of sparing the poor man. And judging by the way the scene looked, they didn’t seem to ever have.

“Will you be alright with this one?” Your senior’s question pulls your attention from the files in your hand, and you quickly nod. “Of course!” This was your first big case, and there was no way you would back down now, not when an opportunity had presented itself like this.

Yeonjun leans over to unlock the door, his hand on the handle when he turns to you. “Remember I’m always-” — “On the other side of the glass, I know.” You finish with a small smile, and Yeonjun scoffs as he shakes his head.

Interrogation rooms are small, their walls stripped bare and sterile. With no windows and not even a clock to tell the time, the space feels nearly suffocating. A metal table is placed by the center of the room, adorned with scratches and uneven sections from its years of mistreatment. Above it hangs a single fluorescent light, casting the room in an almost clinical glow.

The man before you sits on one of the uncomfortable chairs, his head bowed and his cuffed hands resting on the table. His long dark hair shields his face from view, and you find your own gaze dropping to the files in your hands once more as you slide into the seat opposite him.

You clear your throat, the quietness of the room only amplifying the sound of you swallowing again. “You’re being investigated on the grounds of first degree murder of Park Baekhyun and attempted arson against his property. You have the right to remain silent and or request for an attorney. Keep in mind that anything you say here can be used against you in court.”

Exhale.

With a quick glance toward the thick glass window to your left, you allow yourself a momentary break. No matter how hard you squint, it was impossible to make out anything on the other side. But you knew that Yeonjun was watching, and it made everything ten times more surreal. — When you notice that the suspect has yet to speak, you turn your attention back to him.

He remains in front of you, with his head bowed as his fingers absentmindedly tap against the cool metal table. Your breath catches in your throat when you survey the dark rings adorning almost each and every one of his fingers, they looked oddly familiar. But before you have time to ponder the matter further, he lifts his gaze.

His dark hair falls from his face, making his equally dark eyes meet yours, instantly they seize you with a look you knew all too well. The persistent tapping of his fingers come to an abrupt halt as his lips curl into a menacing smirk, the one that used to make your stomach twist. In that moment, you knew that he knew. Still, you deny it, hands fervently flipping the files as you replace the victim’s with his.

Your heart plummets through the floor when your eyes land on the name, and suddenly it all makes sense. He was bound to end up in this room one day, you knew that, you had known that for a long time. You just… Had never imagined to be the one on the other side.

His smirk only widens, exposing the sharp and shiny teeth that had grazed your skin so many times before. A breathy laugh rumbles within his chest, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, not once. He exhales with a short breath:

“Dollface. It’s been a while hasn’t it?”

The pet name makes an ice cold shiver crawl up your spine. You push down the insults waiting on your tongue, the months of resentment and the anger. Inhaling slowly, you remain perfectly still. He studies you close, dark eyes narrowing as he tilts his head to the side. It was as if he was trying to calculate your next move, you knew that he could.

“Beomgyu.” The name tastes foul in your mouth, making you want to spit it out. You thought you’d left him behind, left him for good. For ten months you had tried to recover from him, from everything he’d put you through. All of it for nothing. Now he was closer than ever, within an arm's reach, if you so wished to touch him.

His smirk only widened, he was enjoying this, you could tell it thrilled him. “In the flesh”, he says, his voice a low drawl as he drinks in your slightly bewildered expression. There were so many things you wanted to tell him, so many things you wished to get off your chest. But before you can even get a word out, the door to the interrogation room is slammed open.

You don’t have to look to know who it is. Yeonjun’s presence could be felt from miles away as he looms over you. “A word outside”, is all he says, before promptly turning on his heel and walking out again. — You don’t take your eyes off of Beomgyu when you rise to your feet, and the smirk on his face persists even when you exit the room.

“Alright, what’s going on?”

Your senior’s voice echoes down the vacant hallway and you wince at the accusation of his tone. How did you tell him, how did you come clean about the fact that you had history with the man currently detained and cuffed on the other side of the door. — Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, you hesitantly chew on it as your eyes dart between the floor and the walls, anywhere but him.

“Well I… Sort of knew him..” The words come out awkward, and you grimace at the way you presented the situation. Yeonjun’s frown only deepens, the crease on his forehead becoming even more prominent. “Knew?” He presses, and you suddenly feel as if you were the one being interrogated. This was not how your first case was supposed to go.

“Well.. I haven’t seen him in a long time.” You press your lips into a thin line, forcing yourself into a more upright stance as you try your best at holding his gaze. — “How long?” Yeonjun counters, to which your heart sinks. How long has it been? You hardly kept track, for Choi Beomgyu was someone you longed to forget. “Ten months”, you finally say.

Your senior sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers as he bites the inside of his cheek. He remains quiet for a good minute and you anxiously fiddle with the hem of your sleeves, glancing over your shoulder to make sure that no one was witnessing the most embarrassing conversation taking place.

“I’ll take you off the case.”

No. He can’t do that, can he? Well he technically could. Still, it was an option you refused to consider. “No.” You promptly say, rolling your shoulders back once as you prepare to face his rejection. You didn’t know why your first thought was to refuse, why a pang shot through your chest at the idea of having the case go to someone else, but it did.

Selfish as you were, you thought you needed this case for your own gain. Whether it was to find some sort of closure for the way things ended, or perhaps even to satisfy your own curiosity. Either way, you knew that this case belonged to you. — “I’m confident that I can do this.” Your voice doesn’t waver, and your gaze is firm as you peer up at Yeonjun.

Your senior sighs, carding his fingers through his hair as he mutters something under his breath. “It’s against policy and I shouldn’t-” — “Please, Yeonjun.” You take a step forward, hopeful eyes silently pleading with him.

“I could be of great help, I’m certain of it, please just give me a chance.” — Yeonjun doesn’t look convinced, his dark brows furrowed as he glances between you and the shut door. Patiently you wait as he thinks to himself, your heart thrumming in your ears as you refuse the urge to beg him further.

Finally, he huffs, shaking his head once, as if in disbelief of himself. “Alright, but if I notice that things are getting out of hand you’re off, are we clear?”

Eagerly you nod, “Of course. Thank you, sir!” You catch the way he rolls his eyes, coughing slightly as he dismisses you with the wave of his hands. “Don’t act formal with me now”, he tsks, shooting you a small sideway glance. He reaches for the handle once more, holding the door open for you as you enter the suffocating interrogation room a second time that day.

The silence is deafening as you step back inside, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you echoing off the four confined walls. Beomgyu remains seated, mindlessly fiddling with the rings on his fingers, the cuffs around his wrists scraping against the metal table. — You force yourself to remain stoic as you approach once more, carefully taking your seat opposite him as you place your files down in front of you.

You clear your throat, ready to begin the initial interview when he suddenly speaks. “You look different.” He presents the statement causally as he leans back in his chair, it makes a squeaking noise at the action. Your heart pounds against your ribcage and you swallow as you hold his gaze. — “People change”, you say, your throat suddenly feeling dry.

Beomgyu shakes his head, his dark and piercing gaze trailing along your figure. “But you act the same.” His lips stretch into a menacing smirk and you have to force the memories of those very lips against your own and all over your body, out of your head. Focus. You couldn’t afford to be taken off the case.

“Last night”, you start off strong, your voice firm as you finally divert your attention from the files you’d been clinging onto, “You were present at Park Baekhyun’s property around 1am. What were you doing there?”

The smirk has yet to fall from his face and Beomgyu cocks an eyebrow your way as he lets go of the rings he’d been fiddling with. “Cleanin’ up a mess”, the nonchalant tone he used masks any hint of unease he might be experiencing.

“What kind of mess?”

A glimmer of mischief flashes across his almost black eyes, it was one you recognized. His tongue prods against the inside of his cheeks, his hands flat against the metal table. “Well certainly not the ones we used to make.” The mockery made your skin crawl and you fought back the insults surfacing as you clenched your jaw.

“Please refrain from straying off topic”, you say, your voice eerily calm. Beomgyu rolls his eyes, but doesn’t attempt to argue as he regards you with a bored expression. “One of my employee’s messed up”, he shrugs, “Fairly new to the job so I can’t really hold him accountable.” — You watch as his eyes flicker over to the window on his right, his gaze narrowing on the thick glass.

“You gotta go easy on the newbies”, he then adds without tearing his attention from the window. And even though he couldn’t see Yeonjun, he without a doubt knew that he was there. For a moment, it felt almost as if he was addressing your senior and not you.

Beomgyu’s gaze soon flickers back to you, the smirk on his lips returning within seconds. “But you would know all about that wouldn’t you?” His eyes flash with underlying desire, “I went easy on you the first time.”

He didn’t. Perhaps that was why you remembered your first encounter with Choi Beomgyu to this day.

⸝⸝

📼 — March 28th 2022

The floor thumps in rhythm to the loud bass that echoes from the DJ booth. Sweaty bodies are pressed against one another as people tear their way through the dancefloor. The fluorescent lights blind you as they flash from purple to blue to green and back to purple again. — Perched awkwardly on a high stool by the bar, you watch as the night unravels before you.

Clubs had never been your forte. Especially not during the weekends where they seemed to host a home for the whole city as everyone drank their day to day problems away. Your eyes scan for Kayla, she was the one who’d brought you here in the first place. After listening to her persistent whining for almost an hour you had finally caved, but at what cost?

As soon as your coats had been left, she’d darted for the dancefloor, not as much as a second thought about you as she searched for her next victim. You shouldn’t even be surprised anymore, it was in her nature honestly.

You’ve already emptied two glasses, and now you’re tapping the cool rim against your lips as you aimlessly peer out over the crowd. The idea of another drink enticed you, but your wallet strongly disagreed with that idea, thus you were left far too sober for your own liking as you avoided any attempts at socialising. You weren’t here to make friends, much less fuck around.

It was then, in the midst of a heavy sigh, that your eyes fell on him. Back then you hadn’t known his name, you hadn’t known anything of what was to come. Your first thought was that he wasn’t your type. And you wanted to leave it at that, to let your eyes continue their endless roam and forget about him, but you couldn’t.

Your gaze clung to him as it trailed along his dark and long hair, perfectly framing his sharp features. Then to the half-hearted smirk he wore, to his dark clothes and the black rings around almost each and every one of his fingers. And then finally to his eyes, darker and all the more menacing than the rest of him, they seemed to glow under the neon lights.

For some reason, he was looking at you too. Despite the two half-naked girls draped over him, their hands insistently clawing at every part of him they could access, undoubtedly whispering beyond filthy shit in his ears with sickeningly sweet giggles. — Why was he looking at you?

He wasn't alone, far from it. The small booth he occupied held, not only him and the two girls, but at least three other guys as well, all wearing the same brooding expressions. You should look away, pretend like you’d never seen him in the first place, but the longer you stared at him, and the longer he stared back, it became increasingly more difficult.

His smirk widens when he brings his glass to his lips, and over the rim you catch the sly wink he sends you. Your heart stumbles over its next beat, your own glass stuttering against your chin as you grip it tighter.

It wasn’t like you weren’t used to getting hit on, or even subtly flirted with. But there was something undeniably different about this man. Despite your earlier complaints on your sobriety, you suddenly felt intoxicated in a way you never had before.

And so you did the only reasonable thing left to do. You winked back.

He chuckles, even though you’re unable to hear it, you can see it in the way his chest rises and falls. His ring clad hand slides along the thigh of one of the girls, who giggled as she leaned in to kiss his neck. He seemed to pay her little mind, those same dark eyes still fixed on you..

“Don’t even think about it.”

Kayla’s voice is sharp, and it snaps your attention from the stranger and over to your friend as she takes the seat next to yours. Slouched over the bar, she orders herself a glass of water which she begins gulping down. — “What?” You question as you watch her wipe her lips.

“That guy, the one you were eyeing”, she points in the direction of the man you’d just been gawking at, “He’s no good.” She gives a firm nod, glass gripped tightly in her hand as she peers down at the liquid floating around. — “How’d you know?” You scoff as you, too, turn back to the bar. Perhaps she was jealous of you succeeding in finding someone when she wasn’t, it wouldn’t be a first.

But Kayla only huffs, her nails tapping against the glass as she purses her lips. “Only uses women for his own personal gain and pleasure, you’ll get hurt.”

“What if I only seek pleasure?” That was a lie, because you didn’t, far from it. You were nothing like Kayla, at least you liked to think you weren’t. —- “Then I suggest you seek it elsewhere, I meant what I said, he’s bad news.”

“How do you know that?”

Her knowledge about this stranger intrigued you. Had she hooked up with him before and got jealous by the possibility of you doing the same? Had he rejected her?

Kayla sighs, her expression taking on an almost melancholic form as she sets her glass down. “Do you remember Shay?” She suddenly asks and you frown, confused by the mention of her old friend. “Yeah? You haven’t mentioned her in a while, did something happen?”

Your friend snorts, throwing a glance over her shoulder as she nods toward the man by the booth. “Yeah, he did. – One night she’s off with him, next time I see her is two weeks later, drugged out of her fucking mind and unable to stand on her own goddamn legs.” A visible shiver runs down Kayla's spine as she recalls the events in her head.

Turning back to the counter, she picks up her glass, “Besides, I’ve never seen him with the same woman twice.” With that, she downs the remaining water before pushing the now empty glass away. — “Better to try your luck on the dancefloor, hm?” She suggests as she attempts to pull you along.

“I’m fine here.” You give her a small smile, watching as she nods before turning to disappear through the thick crowd.

As much as you tried to keep your gaze from wandering, it somehow ended up by that godforsaken booth yet again. Except this time, the man seemed far too busy to spare your hopeless stares as much as a second glance. One of the girls had crawled onto his lap, shielding most of his face from view as she pressed her lips to his.

His fingers squeezed around her hips before his hands traveled down the curve of her ass, barely covered by the ridiculously short skirt she wore. — They only broke apart for him to mutter something to one of the others present, their following laughter almost overpowering the loud music.

With a small grimace you finally tear your gaze from the sight, slumping back against the bar with a tired sigh. This night seemed to drag on forever. Perhaps you could call a cab home, Kayla would probably want to stay at least another two hours, something that you weren’t quite feeling.

You brace your hands on the countertop with the intention of heaving yourself from your chair and search for your friend when the bartender suddenly catches your attention. Wordlessly he places a drink in front of you, making your head jerk up as you give him a confused look. “I didn’t order–”

“Booth 12”, he nodded to somewhere behind you but you hardly needed to turn around to know where this drink had come from. With your heart in your throat, you take the cool glass, eyeing the pinkish hue of the contents that swirled around the ice cubes. Why had he bought you this? Hesitantly you bring the glass to your lips, taking a small sip as you let the liquid slip down your throat.

It tasted sweet, and you quickly found yourself going back for more. But hadn’t he been busy just a few moments ago.. Perhaps you’d read him wrong. — Suppose you could finish this drink and then head home. But you can barely get as much as another sip in before the seat next to yours becomes occupied.

Through the corner of your eye you can easily make out his long dark hair, the faint smirk on his lips as he clasps his hands on the counter in front of him. For a moment, there’s an awkward silence hanging over the two of you. He doesn’t say anything as he gazes ahead, part of you wondered if he’d even come here with the intention of talking to you at all.

You take another sip of your drink, desperate for the liquor to take effect. The man shifts in his seat, and you feel as though you were on fire when his head turns in your direction. Even with no words he managed to make your heart beat in a frenzy as you clutched your glass tightly.

His dark and piercing gaze is unforgiving as it roams your figure, undoubtedly lingering where it shouldn’t. It was like he knew no shame. You should’ve told him off, you should’ve gotten up and left. For some reason you find yourself staring at him with equally invading eyes.

“I haven’t seen you here before.”

It’s the first time he speaks, his head falling to the side as he studies you. “You new around town?” His voice is smooth, clean of any stuttering or awkwardness. A small part of you envied how easily he seemed to be carrying himself. — You shake your head, “No.”

The man raises an eyebrow, and you don’t stop him when he reaches for your drink. The rings around his fingers make a clanking sound against the glass as he takes it and brings it to his lips. “Then what? Not your crowd?” He asks before taking a sip, his eyes never leaving you.

“No, I suppose not..” You gingerly admit, not wanting to highlight the fact that you were completely out of your element. But judging by the way he looked at you, his silent demeanor practically eating you alive, he probably knew that already. — He places your glass back down, gently pushing it back your way as he wordlessly encourages you to drink more. You don’t know why you oblige.

He takes the opportunity of you sipping on your drink to introduce himself. “Choi Beomgyu”, he says, the smirk on his lips widening as he does. The name fit him, oddly enough. Perhaps it was a bad idea to give out your own name. He was a stranger, not to mention one that Kayla had specifically warned you about not long ago. Still, this man intrigued you beyond limits..

Beomgyu, as his name was, suddenly leaned closer and you could almost smell the liquor on his breath. “Come on dollface, you must have a name?” The nickname he so casually dropped made your stomach flip. — You tell yourself that this was just a game of his. Taking Kayla’s words into consideration, not to mention the fact that he had girls draped over him minutes ago, this wasn’t the first time he chatted someone up. You would not make a fool of yourself and fall for such cheap tricks.

He’s silent as he waits for you to answer, but when you merely avoid his gaze and sip on your drink, he chuckles. The laugh is pulled from deep within his chest and it sounds raspy when it rolls off his tongue. Beomgyu leans back, running a hand leisurely through his long hair. “Hard to charm I see.”

You don’t answer, but you can’t help but watch as he rests his elbows against the bartop, his finger dragging just below his bottom lip as he regards you with intrigue. — “Not your type?” You retort, your response coming out somewhat short. It was hard to fathom any reasoning behind his strange interest in you.

“Far from it”, Beomgyu hums, though his glimmering eyes betray the words coming out of his mouth. The lower half of his face pulls into a lopsided grin, “But I’m not opposed to trying new things.”

Your first instinct was to scoff, to tell him to fuck off back to wherever he’d emerged from. It’s strange. You find yourself completely unable to. Instead you push your nearly finished drink toward him once more, and Beomgyu takes it as he brings it to his lips. — If he wasn’t opposed to trying new things, then who says you weren’t either?”

“Tell me your name.”

His breath is hot on your neck, coming in short pants as he slams his hips against yours. The alleway is dark and vacant, shielding the two of you from prying eyes. Shoved against the brick wall, you’re pliant in his grasp as Beomgyu’s hands roam your body. With your skirt pushed high above your hips, the metal of his rings feel cool against your thighs as his fingers dig into your soft flesh.

Was this a good idea? — It didn’t matter. Your nails rake along his shoulders, pulling him impossibly close. Beomgyu chuckles against the crock of your neck, his lips leaving sloppy kisses over your skin, pulling it between his teeth.

This was so unlike anything you’d ever done before. Not that you were a prude, or anything of the sort. But something like this, in a place like this, where anyone could walk by and with a mere stranger no less.. Whatever. You figured he was just another promiscuous man with no other intentions than the last. You would use it to your advantage tonight, or at least so you thought.

But for every kiss he placed against your body, for every quiet whisper of praise that slipped from his tongue, you found yourself slowly losing your last semblance of control. Beomgyu was not like any of your previous partners, he was new, exciting, exotic even. Something you’d never had before, and now that you’d gotten a small taste, you felt far from satisfied.

Why did he want to know your name? Why did it matter if you were to never see one another after tonight? Still, his silent request is made clear when he presses your lips together in a feverish kiss. You gasp out at the feeling of his hard cock as it buries inside of your aching cunt, your thighs trembling as they remain wrapped around his waist.

“Dollface”, he exhales into the kiss, his mouth warm and wet against yours. And when he pulls back for air, your dazed eyes meet his as you brace your hands on his chest. Licking your lips, you inhale slowly before finally giving out your name, your most vulnerable piece of information.

He smirks, clearly thrilled by the admission. For a split second you wondered if you’d done the right thing. Perhaps it had all been one grave mistake. If it was, you weren’t given time to ponder it as he reconnets your lips, this time with a passion unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

And that was exactly how you became infatuated with Choi Beomgyu.

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bamgyuuuri · 8 days ago

Note

yk who i am hehe we're working together :3 but when i'll send you reqs, i'll be anon. i'll be ☁️ anon mwehehe

barista beomgyu. please. i beg.

⸝⸝ brewing love ┈ cbg.

⸝⸝ now playing : can't stop - taehyun & hueningkai

pairings and tags. barista!beomgyu x reader . fleeting glances . mutual pining . not-actually unrequited love . cute mutual crush shenanigans . beomgyu is the actual sweetest im crying . slow burn-ish . cheeky clichés . shy yet abrupt confession . tooth-rutting fluff

word count. 8.8k

short note! OOOOH i think i already know who u are mwehehe, hello ☁️ anon !! <3 i made this extra special just for you, i hope u like it :3

barista!beomgyu, who just so happens to begin working at the newly opened café a few buildings down your apartment. you were walking down the street, lost in thought, when something pulls your attention toward the soft hum of a new place. the café stands there, tucked in the corner of the street, windows wide open to let the fresh air in, light spilling onto the sidewalk. you slow down your pace, drawn to the cozy space inside.

beomgyu was behind the counter, his hair a little tousled, falling into his eyes in a way that makes him look effortlessly adorable. his smile was the first thing you notice—bright, welcoming, and easy, like he’s been expecting you all along. it’s a smile that makes you pause, heart fluttering just a little faster, and before you even know what you were doing, your feet were taking you closer to the door, pulling you inside without a second thought.

“hi, welcome in!” beomgyu greets, his voice smooth and warm, with a hint of curiosity that makes you feel like he’s genuinely happy to see you. it’s more than just the usual greeting—there’s something about the way his eyes light up when he looks at you, something that makes you feel a little self-conscious and yet strangely special at the same time.

you hesitate for a moment, not knowing what to say. your usual confidence has fled, leaving behind a slight nervousness that catches in your throat. “uh… just a cappuccino, please,” you manage, your words coming out softer than you intended.

beomgyu doesn’t miss a beat, his smile widening a fraction as he nods. “coming right up.”

as he turns to prepare your drink, you find yourself watching him more than you mean to—his fingers moving smoothly over the espresso machine, his soft hums filling the quiet space, and the way his movements are almost… graceful. the whole scene feels so cozy, and as you stand there waiting for your coffee, you can’t help but catch yourself stealing glances at him. you’re suddenly so aware of how your pulse quickens every time he looks back at you, even just for a second.

when he hands you your cappuccino, the slight brush of his fingers against yours sends a tiny jolt through you, and your breath catches for a moment. it’s only for a heartbeat, but it feels like something more than just a simple touch. his eyes flicker to yours again, and there’s a softness in them that makes your cheeks heat up, though you’re not sure if it’s from the warmth of the coffee or the warmth of his gaze.

“enjoy,” he says, his voice low and sweet, and you feel a sudden longing to stay, to continue this moment, to keep this connection alive just a little longer. but you have to leave, so you turn away, suddenly feeling like the moment has slipped through your fingers too quickly.

the next morning, you’re walking down the same street, and without even thinking about it, your feet lead you straight to the door of the café. the anticipation builds in your chest, a little flutter each step closer, like you’re preparing for something—but you’re not sure what.

“good morning!” beomgyu greets, his voice as smooth as the morning light filtering through the windows. he’s leaning against the counter, his smile easy but warm, like he remembers you, and that makes your stomach flip a little. you try to act casual, but your words stumble out. “morning… uh, just the cappuccino please.”

“of course, i remember,” he chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that makes your heart soften. he’s so effortlessly kind, and it hits you a little harder than expected, making the air between you feel softer, more familiar.

as he prepares your drink, you can’t help but notice the little things—the way his hands move with purpose, yet they’re gentle, precise. when he hums to himself as he works, you catch yourself listening more intently, savoring the moment. you wonder if he always has this effect on people, or if it’s just you.

when he slides the cappuccino across the counter toward you, there’s that small moment again—his fingers brush against yours, light and almost fleeting, but the feeling lingers, like something unspoken. “here you go, have a great day!” beomgyu says, his eyes meeting yours again, and for a moment, everything feels still.

“thank you,” you murmur, a little shy, a little more self-aware than usual, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. you walk to a table, feeling the heat from your drink and from the gentle attention you’ve been getting from him.

over the next few days, you found yourself in the café more often than you mean to. it starts with little things—a smile, a laugh, the warmth of his presence filling the space whenever you enter. you can’t quite put your finger on it, but each time you see beomgyu, there’s this soft, almost electric feeling in your chest that keeps you coming back. “how’s your day going?” he asks one morning, leaning closer to the counter, his eyes bright with curiosity. you feel the familiar rush of butterflies in your stomach as you answer, and somehow, even the smallest of exchanges makes you feel a little lighter.

“pretty good actually, just the usual,” you respond with a smile, trying to act cool, though your heart is racing a little faster than it should.

beomgyu gives you that knowing smile again, the one that makes your knees feel weak. “i'm glad to hear that! if you need anything else, i’m here,” he adds, and the way he says it feels… different this time, like there’s something more beneath the surface.

over the next few visits, you start noticing small things—the way he remembers your name, the way he greets you like he’s genuinely happy to see you. and it’s not just the coffee anymore; it’s the quiet moments between you, the way you both linger just a little longer each time you speak. you catch yourself smiling to yourself when you’re walking away, your heart swelling a little bit more with each passing day. then, one morning, as you approach the counter, beomgyu slides a pastry next to your drink without you even asking. you blink in surprise, your heart skipping a beat as you stare at the delicate pastry he’s just placed in front of you.

“here,” he says smoothly, his voice warm, almost like it’s a secret shared only between the two of you. “for our most loyal customer.”

you’re caught off guard, unsure whether to laugh or melt into a puddle. your lips curl into a shy smile as you look up at him, surprised by the kindness—and maybe the hint of something else in his voice.

“what?” you laugh softly, raising an eyebrow, “i didn’t order that, though..”

“you didn’t have to,” he replies, his smile soft and knowing, like he’s been paying attention to all the little things about you. “you’ve been coming here every day. thought you deserved a treat.”

there’s something in the way beomgyu says it, something that feels more personal, more thoughtful than just a simple gesture. it makes your heart flutter, and for a second, you’re not sure if it’s the sweetness of the pastry or the sweetness of his words that makes your cheeks heat up.

“why, thank you,” you say, feeling a little shy but undeniably touched. you take a small bite of the pastry, and the sweetness was almost enough to make your heart race, but it’s the way he’s watching you—patient, interested—that truly has your heart fluttering.

“how is it?” he asks, his tone casual, but his eyes never leave you, watching intently as you savor the bite.

you look up at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “it’s perfect,” you reply, feeling your chest warm in more ways than one.

beomgyu’s smile grows a little, and he leans against the counter, his presence filling the space between you both. there’s a small, shared moment of silence, and you’re left wondering if he’s feeling the same way—that strange, undeniable pull that’s slowly building between you two.

as you continue to visit the café over the next few days, the pastries continue. each time, he seems to know exactly what to offer, like he’s learned your preferences by heart. one day it’s a soft cinnamon roll that he claims is “extra special today,” and the next it’s a delicate almond cookie that you don’t even know you’d wanted until he suggests it.

it’s not just the pastries that stand out, though. it’s the way he makes sure to slide your coffee over with a smile that’s just a little more genuine each time, the way his hand brushes yours ever so slightly when handing you your order. you can’t help but notice the subtle things—the way his eyes linger just a little longer than they should, the way he seems to always find an excuse to keep talking to you.

one afternoon, you’re sipping your coffee by the window, watching the world outside, when beomgyu leans over the counter, his voice lowering as he speaks to you.

“just made a fresh batch of croissants,” he says, his eyes twinkling with something mischievous. “i think you’ll really like them.”

you raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “oh? you think so?” you tease lightly, glancing up at him. there’s something so endearing about how he’s trying to impress you with something so simple, yet it feels like a small, intimate moment shared between you two.

“oh, i know so,” beomgyu replies, his voice light and playful. he looks at you with a hint of mischief, and you can’t help but feel your heart skip a little faster. it’s not just the words, it’s the way he says them, the way his eyes sparkle with a knowing glint, as if he’s already certain that you’ll like whatever he’s offering.

“well, i’ll take your word for it,” you reply, your smile softening. “thanks.”

beomgyu slides the warm croissant toward you, his fingers brushing the edge of the pastry just lightly before pulling away. you can’t help but notice how he lingers, his gaze fixed on you, almost as if he’s waiting for your reaction. you take the croissant carefully, the golden flaky layers crumbling slightly as you break off a piece. the warm, buttery scent envelops you, and with your first bite, you feel the soft, rich texture melt in your mouth. it was perfect—the sweet, delicate flavor that you didn’t even know you were craving, and as you chew, you can feel the warmth spreading through you. it’s not just the pastry that’s making your heart race, though. you glance up at him, noticing that he’s watching you intently, his eyes a little wider, as if he’s holding his breath, waiting for you to speak. it’s the kind of look that makes your stomach flip, like he’s unsure whether you’ll like it or not, but he wants you to.

“this is…” you pause, savoring another bite, “amazing,” you finally say, your voice quieter this time, a soft smile curving your lips. you’re not just complimenting the pastry anymore, you realize.

“i’m glad you like it,” he says, his voice a little softer now, almost shy. his eyes flicker to yours, and you can feel the weight of his gaze, the way it lingers a fraction longer than usual. there’s something more here, something unspoken that passes between you both in the quiet of the café. too lost in the taste, you don’t even realize there was a delicate crumb on the corner of your lips until beomgyu’s gaze drops, focusing on your mouth. his hand moves before his mind seems to catch up, reaching out gently, his thumb brushing the corner of your lips, swiping away the tiny remnant of pastry. the touch was featherlight, his skin warm against yours, and the unexpected intimacy of it makes your breath hitch. his eyes widen slightly as he realizes what he’s done, his thumb still lingering close to your mouth, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin.

“s-sorry…! there was…” his voice trails off, and he looks almost as flustered as you feel, a rosy tint coloring his cheeks as he quickly pulls his hand back. “crumb…” he finishes, his gaze darting away, but there’s a small, bashful smile pulling at his lips that makes your heart twist in the sweetest way.

“thanks,” you murmur, your own cheeks warming with a blush you can’t quite hide. the air between you shifts, a new layer of awareness settling in, making the moment stretch longer, deeper. and his sweetness didn't stop there. it started happening more often—small, thoughtful gestures that make your heart stir in ways you’re not quite ready to admit. little things, quiet things, but they settle into your chest like warmth spreading through your fingertips, like the first sip of coffee he made on a chilly morning. one afternoon, you’re hunched over your table, forehead resting against your palm as you stare at the endless pages of study material in front of you. the words blur together, your highlighter poised but unmoving, frustration pressing into your temples. your coffee sits untouched beside you, long forgotten, the steam no longer curling from the rim. with a tired sigh, you rub your temple, your free hand tugging absentmindedly at the edge of your sleeve.

then, out of nowhere, a plate slides onto the table in front of you.

your breath catches, startled by the sudden presence of something new amidst your sea of notes and papers. you blink, momentarily confused, before your gaze lands on a small slice of cake sitting neatly on a ceramic plate. delicate layers of sponge and cream, dusted lightly with powdered sugar, topped with a single, perfectly ripe strawberry. it looks almost too pretty to eat, like something out of a display case rather than a last-minute kindness.

but what truly made your heart stutter was the tiny yellow post-it pressed gently against the edge of the plate.

good luck! i know you can do it!

beneath the words, there was a small, round bear doodle, its arms raised in encouragement, as if cheering you on from the sidelines.

your lips part slightly, caught between surprise and gratitude. you reach for the note with careful fingers, peeling it away like it’s something delicate, something you want to keep. your eyes lift instinctively, searching for him, and sure enough, beomgyu stood behind the counter, absentmindedly wiping down a tray, but his attention was on you.

the moment your gazes meet, he doesn’t look away. he doesn’t smirk, doesn’t tease—he just smiles, small and knowing, like he’s glad you noticed, like he doesn’t expect anything in return.

your chest tightens, a breath catching somewhere between your ribs.

you duck your head, trying to hide the way your lips curve upward as you tuck the post-it safely between the pages of your book. picking up your fork, you take a bite of the cake, and somehow, the taste feels richer, the flavors sinking into your tongue like warmth itself.

but that was just the start. one morning, when you pick up your usual coffee, something immediately catches your eye. the foam wasn't just smooth and swirled like usual, no, nestled right in the center is a tiny, delicate heart, drawn so subtly that it almost disappears the moment you tilt the cup. your fingers tighten around the sleeve, the heat from the drink seeping into your skin. you glance up instinctively, and there he was, standing behind the counter like always, completely occupied with the espresso machine. or at least, pretending to be. beomgyu's head was slightly turned, watching—waiting—for your reaction, though his hands continue their practiced motions, adjusting knobs and pressing buttons with casual ease.

the moment your gaze meets his, he looks away. just a fraction too fast.

the next time, it wasn't just a heart.

you got this!

the words werescrawled across the side of your cup in his familiar, slightly slanted handwriting, the exclamation mark punctuated with a tiny, grinning bear doodle. your fingers hesitate for a moment before grazing over the ink, tracing the shape of the little bear as a small, involuntary smile tugs at your lips.

he’s never written on your cup before.

your eyes lift almost instinctively, seeking him out, and sure enough—beomgyu was already looking at you from behind the counter. he’s pretending to wipe down the counter, but the smug tilt of his lips betrays him.

“cute bear,” you murmur, lifting the cup slightly as you meet his gaze.

his brows lift, feigning confusion. “hmm?”

you nod toward the cup. “the one you drew.”

“huh.” beomgyu leans against the counter, tapping his chin as if deep in thought. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

you roll your eyes, though you can’t hide the way your fingers tighten around the cup, like you’re holding onto something fleeting, something precious.

then there’s the day he spells your name wrong.

not in the way baristas usually do—an honest mistake, a simple mishearing. no, this was very much on purpose.

you stare down at your cup, brows furrowing at the ridiculous, utterly incorrect jumble of letters scribbled across the surface.

“really?” you deadpan, lifting an unimpressed gaze toward him.

beomgyu grins, slow and wide, the kind of grin that spells trouble, one eyebrow quirking in amusement. “oops,” he says, resting his chin in his palm, eyes twinkling with mischief.

you narrow your eyes. “oops?”

he nods, unbothered. “must’ve misheard you.”

“you spelled it right yesterday. and the day before that. and the week before that.”

he gasps, hand flying to his chest in exaggerated offense. “are you accusing me of something?”

you take a slow, deliberate sip of your coffee, not breaking eye contact.

his smirk deepens, but then—just as you’re about to turn away— “… thanks, though,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear.

and he does.

because his smile falters for just a second, something softer, something almost shy flickering across his face before he covers it up with another teasing grin. then on a particularly dreary evening, when the sky split open with rain and the wind howls against the buildings, you push open the café door, the small bell jingling softly above you. droplets cling to your sleeves, your hair damp from the unexpected downpour, and despite your best efforts, your clothes were thoroughly soaked.

beomgyu looks up the moment you step inside. his usual playful greeting dies on his lips, replaced by a flicker of concern. without a word, he disappears into the back, his apron swaying slightly as he moves. you barely have time to register his absence before he returns, something folded neatly in his hands.

a clean, fluffy towel.

he hands it to you like it’s second nature, like this is something he would’ve done regardless of who walked through that door. but you can feel the difference—the softness of the fabric, the way it’s still warm, like he pulled it fresh from somewhere just for you.

“you’ll catch a cold like that,” beomgyu murmurs, propping an elbow against the counter as he watches you pat down your damp sleeves. his voice is gentle, but there was something almost scolding beneath the words, something fond.

you let out a small, sheepish laugh, pushing away your damp hair with the edge of the towel. “i didn’t expect it to rain… and i don't really own umbrellas, so..” you mumble, voice quieter than usual.

beomgyu hums, shaking his head lightly, an amused sort of fondness flickering in his eyes. he doesn’t say anything else, just lets you dry off at your own pace, and when you finally return the towel with a grateful smile, he takes it without hesitation, like it was never an inconvenience in the first place.

the next time you visit, the rain has long since stopped, the streets drying beneath the weak afternoon sun. but when you settle into your usual seat, something unfamiliar catches your eye.

tucked neatly against the chair, as if it had always been there, is a small, folded umbrella. a sticky note rests on the handle.

just in case. :)

there’s no name. no signature. but the handwriting was unmistakable—slightly slanted, the letters round in a way that feels familiar.

and you didn't need to guess who left it. but your sweet routine was soon disrupted though. the morning rush hits like a wave, and you were caught in its current. the alarm blares louder than usual, dragging you out of bed faster than you'd like. the clock blinks a terrifyingly late hour, and you scramble to get dressed, brush your teeth, grab your things—anything to make it out the door on time.

you were running late, leaving you no time for the comforting morning stop at the café. you grab your things in a rush, throwing a jacket over your shoulders, your bag slung messily across your body. as you rush out the door, you can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment in the pit of your stomach. you had been looking forward to seeing beomgyu, the thought of his soft smile and the warmth of your usual drink always adding a little extra brightness to your mornings.

but today, it wasn’t meant to be.

still, as you rush through your classes, his face keeps popping into your thoughts. there were moments when you caught yourself smiling, thinking about his little jokes, the way he always makes sure to ask if your coffee’s to your liking. and then there were the fleeting moments when you'd remember the feeling of his gaze on you, how it lingers a little longer than you expect.

it’s silly, you tell yourself. he’s just being nice, right?

but then, your heart betrays you again, fluttering a little faster as you recall the sound of his voice, the way he’d tease you so effortlessly. it’s hard not to feel the small stirrings of something more, something that you can’t quite place. back at the café, beomgyu finds himself glancing toward the door more often than he cares to admit, a soft frown tugging at his lips each time it doesn’t swing open. his mind wanders, his usual focus slipping as the minutes stretch on, each one feeling longer than the last.

he’d noticed you weren’t there that morning, and it had been bothering him more than he would’ve liked to admit. usually, you’d walk in with that soft smile of yours, maybe a joke or two about the day ahead, but today—nothing. the absence of your usual routine feels strange, like a missing piece he hadn’t realized was so important until it was gone.

his hand moves to adjust the espresso machine, but it feels clumsier than usual, as though his thoughts were tangled with the same energy that swirls in the foam he’s trying to perfect. his fingers slip on the cup, almost knocking it over, and he pauses, taking a breath to steady himself.

it’s just one morning, beomgyu tries to convince himself, but the thought doesn’t settle. there was a quiet, persistent worry gnawing at him. his mind races. he wonders if something happened, if you just had a busy morning. he wonders if he’d done something wrong—if he’d said something that might’ve made you not want to come in. his gaze flickers back to the door, the hope of seeing you there quickly replaced by the sinking feeling that maybe you wouldn’t show up at all.

he sighs, wiping a hand over his face as he leans against the counter.

a few, agonizing hours later, you glance at the clock as your last class finally wraps up, the familiar weight of the day’s exhaustion settling into your bones. but there’s something else tugging at you, a quiet pull that urges you to make your way to the café. you can’t shake the feeling that you need to see him, to catch that last sliver of the day before it slips away.

there’s a fleeting hope in your chest, a hope that maybe, just maybe, he would still be there. you hurry through the campus, your steps quickening as the cold night air nips at your skin. your thoughts are scattered, your mind drifting between assignments, thoughts of the morning, and, of course, beomgyu.

by the time you reached the café, you were almost breathless, your heart beating a little faster than usual. you push open the door, the familiar chime ringing through the quiet space, and you freeze for just a moment.

and there he was

beomgyu was behind the counter as always, wiping down the last of the espresso machine with his back to you. the soft hum of the machine is the only sound in the room as he moves, his motions deliberate, like he’s trying to finish up for the night but something—someone—was keeping him here a little longer.

you hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should interrupt or just slip out quietly, but then he hears the door open, his head turning toward you with that smile that makes your heart leap in your chest.

“you’re here,” he says, his voice softer than usual, like he’s surprised to see you after the day you’ve both had. his gaze holds yours a moment longer than it needs to, his eyes catching on yours in that familiar, lingering way that always seems to make you forget how to breathe.

he looks... relieved.

you feel that same flutter in your chest, your nerves buzzing from the way he’s looking at you, like he’d been waiting for this moment too. without thinking, you find yourself smiling a little wider. “i didn’t want to miss seeing you today,” the moment they’re out, your breath catches in your throat. what did i just say? it feels like the room falls completely still, like everything has paused for just a second. your face burns instantly, a deep, flushed heat spreading across your cheeks, and you can’t stop yourself from mentally cringing. oh no, that came out way too—but then, beomgyu’s face shifts ever so slightly. his eyebrows raise, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. you can almost see the moment he processes your words, like his brain is trying to catch up with what just happened. he stands frozen for a heartbeat, as if unsure of how to respond.

and then, almost without thinking, he steps closer, his voice soft but undeniably sincere. “i…” he trails off, his gaze dropping for a second before meeting yours again. there’s an almost sheepish quality to his smile as he shifts his weight, his fingers nervously tapping against the counter. “i didn’t want to miss seeing you either,” he says, and his voice is quieter now, a little unsure but genuine.

your heart does a little flip, and for a second, the air between you both feels thick with something unexpressed, yet shared. the words were simple, but there’s a vulnerability to them, like you both opened up without meaning to. beomgyu clears his throat, shifting slightly, but you notice the way his fingers were trembling just a little as he adjusts the cloth in his hands. it’s the kind of nervous energy you recognize in yourself too, the same shy warmth you both feel in each other’s presence.

“so… how was your day? uh, i mean, not that you have to tell me. but, you know—did you—did you get up to anything fun? i noticed you weren’t here this morning, and i… uh, just…” he trails off, the words spilling out faster than he can control. “i was, uh, wondering if everything was okay? did something happen? you didn’t—um, you didn’t have time to swing by, or—uh, maybe you just didn’t feel like it? or—”

he stops suddenly, his eyes wide with embarrassment, realizing he’s been rambling. his hand moves to the back of his neck in that familiar gesture, the same bashful movement you’ve come to recognize in him. “sorry… i’m just, uh, rambling. didn’t mean to… go on like that.”

you can’t help but laugh softly, the sound light and warm, and it instantly makes his face turn pink. “no, it’s okay,” you say with a small chuckle, trying to reassure him. “i didn’t come by because i, uh, got caught up with some stuff at uni. i was running late and just… didn’t have time to swing by this morning, that’s all.”

beomgyu nods slowly, relief washing over his face as he lets out a quiet breath. “ah, i see…” he murmurs, and there’s another beat of silence, the tension between you two settling into something quieter, more comfortable. you then break the silence, your voice soft but curious. “so, um, are you closing soon?” he looks up, his eyes lighting up a little as he remembers the time. “ah, right, yeah…” he says, glancing around the almost-empty café. “i was about to start cleaning up, actually…” he looks back at you, a small, unsure smile tugging at his lips. you shift awkwardly, feeling the weight of his gaze on you as you try to offer a smile. “if it’s not too much trouble… i don’t mind waiting. i can, uh, keep you company while you finish up,” you say, your words coming out a bit more hesitant than you intended.

beomgyu’s expression softens even further, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looks at you. “you’d do that?” he asks, his voice quiet but filled with something genuine, something appreciative.

you nod, trying to ease the slight tension you’re both feeling. “yeah, of course. i don’t mind,” you reply, your voice warmer now, a little more confident in the offer. the idea of spending more time with him, even in the quiet space of the café, feels comfortable. natural, almost.

his eyes flickered with surprise, then melted into a small, shy grin. “well, in that case… i’d really like that,” he says softly, and there’s a softness in his tone that makes your heart flutter more than you’d like to admit.

as beomgyu begins wiping down the counter, the sound of the rag against the wood fills the quiet café, but there was something soothing about it. the atmosphere between you two had shifted, the awkwardness melting away, replaced by a mutual understanding.

he casually glances over at you, his eyes soft, and you find yourself easing into the rhythm of the moment. the gentle hum of the espresso machine still lingers in the background, and the quietness of the café feels oddly intimate now. it’s just the two of you, and for the first time in a while, it feels like time has slowed down.

you both start talking about your usuals, banter flowing effortlessly between you. you laugh at his silly jokes, the kind that seem to roll off his tongue without any effort, and he grins at your reactions, eyes sparkling with a joyful glint. the sound of your shared laughter fills the air, light and genuine. there’s no rush, no pressure to say anything in particular—just the soft cadence of two people enjoying the quiet connection between them.

"i saw that movie you mentioned last week," beomgyu says, his tone casual as he dries the cups, but his eyes flicker over to you, awaiting your response. "it was way better than i expected."

you smile, nodding. "i knew you’d like it! i was practically bouncing in my seat the whole time." the memory makes you laugh softly, and beomgyu chuckles along with you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, that familiar warmth present in his expression.

"yeah, i could tell," he teases lightly. "you were so into it, you probably didn’t even notice when the popcorn started spilling."

you laugh again, shaking your head. "hey, that's not true! well... maybe just a little bit... but it was totally worth it."

the comfortable back-and-forth continues, and the more you talk, the more natural it feels. you realize how easy it is to be with him—how effortlessly the conversation flows. beomgyu listens intently, his smile never quite leaving his face. you, in turn, find yourself talking more freely, your words coming quicker now, as if the walls you hadn’t even realized you put up were slowly crumbling.

as the minutes ticked by, you both seemed to settle into the quiet ease of the moment, the kind where you don’t have to worry about saying the right thing. the soft clinking of dishes, the occasional hum of the fridge, and your shared laughter fill the space, making the café feel like your own little world.

as beomgyu wipes down the last of the counters and sets everything back in place, the realization settles in—the night was truly winding down. you watch as he moves with practiced ease, stacking chairs, flipping the sign on the door to closed, and turning off the glowing menu board behind the counter. the once-lively café has now quieted into something more intimate, bathed in the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the windows.

you linger near the door, the warmth of his presence still wrapped around you even as he finishes tidying up. when he finally steps out from behind the counter, he stretches his arms above his head with a tired but satisfied sigh, his sweater riding up slightly in the process. you look away quickly, swallowing the sudden flustered feeling creeping up your neck.

"all done," he announces, running a hand through his hair, making it fluffier than before. he looks over at you with a small, almost reluctant smile. “guess it’s time to head out.”

you nod, though there’s a quiet hesitation between you both, like neither of you really want to leave just yet. still, you step outside together, the cool night air brushing against your skin as beomgyu locks up the café behind him. the street was quieter now, the usual buzz of the day replaced by the occasional passing car and the distant hum of the city settling in for the night.

you turn to him, shifting slightly on your feet. “well… thanks for letting me keep you company,” you say softly, offering a small smile. “i’ll see you tomorrow?”

beomgyu looks at you for a beat longer than necessary, his lips pressing together before curling into something shy and thoughtful. “yeah… see you tomorrow,” he murmurs, but he doesn’t move, his fingers still loosely holding onto the keys in his hand.

you hesitate too, caught in the strange, quiet space between goodbye and something else. and then, just as you were about to turn, beomgyu shifts on his feet, sucking in a small breath before blurting out, “wait.”

you blink up at him, surprised. "yeah?"

he clears his throat, suddenly looking uncharacteristically shy as he scratches the back of his neck. "uh, are you… walking home?” his voice is casual, but there’s something tentative underneath, something unsure.

you tilt your head slightly, nodding. “i am, why...?”

beomgyu lets out a breath, as if he’d just made up his mind about something. “then—” he pauses, shifting again, fingers fidgeting with the strap of his bag. “let me walk you home.”

your heart stutters in your chest.

you stare at him, caught off guard by the unexpected offer, and beomgyu, ever so slightly, begins to fidget under your gaze. "i mean—" he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. “only if you want me to! if you’d rather walk alone, that’s totally fine! i just—y’know, it’s late, and you were rushing this morning, so i figured you probably had a long day and—”

he’s rambling again, words tumbling over themselves in his rush to explain, but there’s something endearing about it, something warm about the way he’s trying so hard not to make this feel like a big deal. and maybe it isn’t—to him, maybe it’s just him being considerate. but to you, the offer lingers in the air, heavier than just a simple walk home.

you find yourself smiling, something soft and fond curling in your chest. “i’d like that,” you say quietly, and the way his expression shifts—relief flickering across his face, followed by something almost bashful—makes your heart skip a beat.

“yeah?” he asks, as if he hadn’t expected you to agree so easily.

“yeah.. i really would..” you nod, and beomgyu presses his lips together to hide the growing smile threatening to spread across his face.

“okay,” he breathes out, glancing ahead before turning back to you. “then… let’s go.”

and so, the two of you fall into step, walking side by side under the glow of the streetlights. the air between you was lighter now, tinged with something warm and comfortable, and though neither of you said it out loud, there was an unspoken understanding lingering in the quiet spaces between your footsteps.

the night air feels softer than usual, the quiet hum of the city settling around you like a warm embrace. each step you took beside beomgyu feels slower, more deliberate—the way your arms sway just slightly too close, the way the sound of your footsteps seems to sync up in a steady rhythm, the way neither of you seem to be in any real rush to get anywhere. his presence beside you was warm, almost grounding, and yet, there was something just barely there; a tension that isn’t quite awkward, but isn’t entirely absent either. it lingers in the spaces between words, in the pauses that stretch just a little too long, in the way you catch him glancing at you before quickly looking away.

beomgyu clears his throat after a moment, the sound small but noticeable in the hush of the evening. “so… do you live close?” he asks, his voice carrying that usual casual lilt, yet it also held just the tiniest bit of hesitance. you glance at him, catching the way his head tilts slightly, his eyes soft in the dim light. he’s watching you, waiting—not impatiently, not expectantly, just curiously, like he genuinely wants to know, like he’s trying to hold onto the conversation for as long as he can.

“yeah,” you answer, voice light but honest. “not too far, actually. just a few more blocks.” beomgyu hums in acknowledgment, nodding slightly as his gaze flickers to the sidewalk ahead. he shifts a little, stuffing his hands deeper into the pockets of his hoodie, and for a moment, it feels like that should be the end of it. just a casual exchange, a small piece of information shared and then left behind. but you find yourself glancing at him again, feeling the question lingering on your tongue before you even fully process the thought. “what about you?”

he lets out a quiet, almost amused breath, as if he wasn’t expecting you to ask. then, with a small shake of his head, he admits, “kind of far, honestly... i usually take the bus home.” you frown slightly, your steps slowing just a little. “then… won’t you miss the last bus?”

beomgyu pauses for half a second before waving a dismissive hand. “no worries, i’ll be fine. there’s a late-night one that still runs. besides…” he sneaks a glance at you, his voice quieter now, “this is the longest i’ve ever spent time with you, anyway.” your breath catches, just for a second, and suddenly, the night air feels heavier, thicker, charged with something neither of you fully acknowledge but both undeniably feel.

beomgyu doesn’t look at you after saying it, doesn’t give any indication that he’s aware of how deeply his words just affected you. but you see it—the way his fingers twitch slightly where they’re tucked into his hoodie, the way the tips of his ears, barely visible beneath his hair, grow a faint shade darker under the streetlights. he’s nervous, you realize, and the thought makes something warm bloom in your chest.

neither of you spoke immediately after that, letting the moment stretch between you, the silence thick but not uncomfortable. the city continues on around you, distant sounds of traffic somewhere far away, but here, in this quiet little bubble of time, it feels like it was just the two of you.

and then, after a beat, beomgyu clears his throat, breaking the silence with a soft but distinct exhale. “so, um… i was actually kinda worried when you didn’t show up today.”

you blink, surprised by the sudden vulnerability in his voice, and turn to him fully. his words catch you off guard, like a quiet breeze that brushes past unexpectedly. “worried?” you ask, your voice soft, the question almost coming out as a whisper. beomgyu nods, a slight blush coloring his cheeks as he scratches the back of his neck, his eyes flickering to the ground for a moment before meeting yours again. “yeah,” he admits, his voice quieter now, “i mean… i know you don’t have to come in every morning or anything, but…” he trails off for a moment, as if trying to find the right way to phrase it. “it just felt weird not seeing you,” he finally says, and the simplicity of it hits you, but it’s also layered with something more—something soft and real that you didn’t expect. beomgyu suddenly exhales, dragging a hand through his hair in a familiar gesture, almost as if he’s trying to smooth over the awkwardness that’s starting to creep in. “god, listen to me,” he chuckles, looking down at his shoes like they’re the most fascinating thing in the world. “i sound so—i dunno. i really thought maybe something happened. or—or maybe you got tired of the coffee.” you smile, feeling a warmth bubble up in your chest at the thought of him being concerned, at the idea that he missed your presence even a little. it felt good, almost comforting. shaking your head, you meet his gaze and reassure him softly, “definitely not tired of the coffee.”

beomgyu gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense, and for a moment, the tension between you two lightens. his expression shifts into something playful, teasing. “so just tired of me, then? great,” he quips, his lips curling into a grin, his eyes sparkling with the same mischievous energy he always has.

you roll your eyes, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “i told you, i overslept, dummy.” you tease back, a small laugh escaping you at the way his face contorts in exaggerated surprise. “right...” beomgyu mutters, his voice lighter now. his eyes flicker over to you for a brief moment, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. then, after a beat, he groans, dragging a hand down his face in frustration, his fingers tugging at his hair as if he’s mortified by himself. “god, i rambled again, didn’t i?” he mutters, his voice sounding a little defeated, but there’s a humorous edge to it, like he’s simultaneously amused and embarrassed by how he’s acting. you grin wider, not able to help yourself as you watch him. it’s almost endearing, seeing him so flustered and out of his element. “you kinda did, yeah.” you tease, your tone light but affectionate, knowing exactly what he’s feeling. beomgyu groans even louder this time, as if the embarrassment was too much for him to bear, dramatically tossing his head back with a sigh. “honestly.. why do i keep doing this around you?” his words were laced with a humor that was so raw and real, but there was an underlying vulnerability to it too. and that's when it happens—before you even have time to think, before you can stop yourself, the words slip from your lips as if they’ve always been there, just waiting for the right moment. “maybe it’s because you like me.” the moment the words leave your mouth, time seemed to have stopped. oh god, no. you freeze, a wave of panic crashing over you as you realize what you just said, your heart practically thundering in your chest. beomgyu’s reaction was almost instantaneous—he freezes too, his breath catching in his throat, his steps faltering, and when you glance up at him, his wide eyes meet yours. he looks stunned, like his brain needs a moment to catch up, his mouth opening slightly like he’s about to say something—but then nothing comes out. you can’t look away from him, your breath stuck in your throat as you process what just happened. oh my god, i just said that, you think, panicking. your heart races, your chest tightens, and before you can think of anything to say to backtrack, he just stands there, blinking at you as if he’s trying to understand the weight of your words. but then, out of nowhere, beomgyu speaks, his words tumbling out before he could think. “do you wanna go on a date with me?” now it was your turn to freeze. what? the words were almost absurd in their suddenness, completely unexpected, and you can feel the ground beneath you shift as if the world itself just stopped turning. it takes a second for your brain to even process what he just said. there’s a full moment of stunned silence before your heart stops completely, and in that moment, all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears and the soft thrum of your pulse. beomgyu, bless him, doesn’t seem to realize what he just did. he’s standing there, red as a tomato, his hands fumbling with his hoodie as he tries to make himself smaller, as if he could physically hide from the mess he’s just made of himself. his eyes were wide, the embarrassment practically radiating off him, but still—still, he doesn’t backtrack.

then, out of nowhere, he speaks. beomgyu’s words tumble out like he's trying to catch up with himself, his voice shaky. “w-wait, no, i—i didn’t mean it like that,” he stammers, his hands nervously twitching at his sides, unsure of whether to shove them in his pockets or rub them together. “i mean... like... uh... that sounded so much less—i mean... you know what i mean, right? it wasn’t supposed to sound like... like that—i wasn’t—i mean, i do like you but like—oh god—” the way his words crash into each other, barely making sense but all spilling out in one chaotic rush, only makes you smile. it was impossible not to. the sight of him, so flustered, trying to explain himself while stumbling over every word, was so endearing that you couldn’t help but laugh softly. the moment was so... him—so sweetly awkward, it made your heart flutter even more. beomgyu swallows hard, and you can practically see the nerves radiating off him. he grips the hem of his hoodie again, as if it’s the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. his eyes were fixed on you, waiting for something, anything—his words a breathless jumble. “maybe you already knew that, or—or maybe i just embarrassed myself completely, but if you feel the same way... uh... y’know... would you wanna, like, you know, go on a date with me?” every single word beomgyu said was wrapped up in vulnerability, but there was still something undeniably hopeful in his eyes, something that made the tension in the air grow even thicker, as if the world was holding its breath with you.

and before either of you could take another breath, you just do it. without thinking, without hesitation, you lean in—fast—and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his cheek, right there in the middle of the street, in the quiet of the night. it was light, quick, and maybe a little impulsive—but it was enough. it was everything.

beomgyu stills, eyes wide, his entire body stiffening for a moment, before his hands slowly creep up to his cheek where your lips just were, as if he’s trying to figure out if it really happened. his face was so red, you think it might burst, and the awkwardness that settles in the moment was palpable, but it was also beautiful.

“there,” you say, your voice a little softer than before, your smile warm and genuine. “that’s your answer.”

beomgyu doesn’t say anything at first. his mind clearly short-circuiting as his fingers hover over his cheek, still in disbelief that you actually did that. it takes him a full moment to process what just happened before he lets out a strangled, breathless laugh, eyes still wide.

“wait, does this mean—is that a yes…?” he asks meekly, his voice a little more unsure this time, the words tumbling out in a rush as he tries to piece it all together.

you can’t help but laugh softly at how sweetly flustered beomgyu was, the corners of your lips curving into a gentle smile. “mhm,” you answer, your voice soft and teasing, like you’re savoring the moment. you try your best to hide the warmth that rushes to your cheeks, but it was impossible when he looked at you like that, with such a mix of relief, hope, and something else—something that made your chest tighten with a quiet excitement.

“i would love to go on a date with you, gyu,” you add, and the words come so naturally now, like they’ve been waiting to slip out for ages. there was no hesitation, just the soft certainty of it all.

beomgyu’s eyes widen, and his smile, though shy, spreads across his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. it was slow at first, but then it deepens, his entire face lighting up with a happiness so pure, it almost makes you forget how to breathe. he then lets out a breath after a moment, a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, something light and nervous. “so… uh, when do we… uh… go on this date, then?” he asks, his voice soft but uncertain.

you couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of the moment settle in your chest. without thinking, you suggest, “how about tomorrow?” beomgyu falters for just a second as he processes your words. his eyebrows knit together slightly, his lips parting as if he’s about to say something, but nothing comes out at first. he blinks a few times, clearly taken aback by the quickness of your offer.

“wait—tomorrow?” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, and for a moment, he looks almost stunned by the suddenness of it all. there was something undeniably adorable about the way he’s trying to catch up with the pace of your words.

you bite your lip, feeling the nerves creep up your spine, but you don’t back down. “yeah,” you say with a playful shrug, trying to sound casual, like suggesting tomorrow as a date wasn't the most nerve-wracking thing you’ve ever done. “why wait when we could just… go ahead and do it, right?” beomgyu looks at you for a long moment, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to process what just happened. then, slowly, as if the weight of your suggestion has finally registered, his lips curl up into a shy, crooked smile. “that is true, yeah,” he says, his voice shaky but filled with that same eagerness that makes your heart skip a beat. “tomorrow sounds.. perfect. yeah. let’s do that.” you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, the excitement swirling in your chest. “it’s a date, then,” you say, your grin spreading wider, the words feeling so right as they leave your mouth.

beomgyu’s face was still flushed, and you can see his hands twitching at his sides, like he doesn’t know what to do with them. he laughs nervously, the sound filling the quiet street around you. “yeah, tomorrow,” he repeats, as if saying it out loud helps solidify the reality of it all.

then, without a word, he reaches his hand toward you. it was a simple gesture, but in that moment, it felt like everything you could ask for and more. you looked at his hand for just a second, a tiny flutter of nervousness in your chest, before you reach out, your fingers brushing against his.

beomgyu’s hand closes around yours, the warmth of his skin sending a quiet thrill through you. there’s a sense of quiet satisfaction, of happiness shared in the simplest touch, and you both fall into step side by side, fingers intertwined. the world feels a little quieter, a little softer, as you walk together into the night, the promise of tomorrow’s date lingering between you.

꒰🧸꒱ @pagelets @jettithink @killa-1009 @j-ji-jia @frankghgr @dawngyu @usuallyunlikelyfox @sxmmerberries @napipope-ta @bamgeutori @xylatox @hyunj00 <3 (click here if you want to be added !! ^^)

#꒰☁️꒱ anon .ᐟ #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu imagines #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt soft hours #beomgyu soft hours

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lailols · 2 months ago

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Kai’s Pretty Girlfriend [3]: Step Three Revised

OT5 x reader, masterlist

Warnings: vibrators, oral (f receiving), degradation (dumb, slut), overstim, denial, dom txt, sub reader

Kai has always said that hindsight is 20/20. When making the plan, he overlooked the fact that Steps Two and Three were basically the same. But he must keep integrity! So he decides to shift the plan just a bit.

He wakes up with a little skip in his step on his next day off, even though you’re not in his bed. It’s okay, you’ll be here later and then the plan can commence. He’s quite excited. He would even go so far as to call himself a mastermind. Ah. This day simply could not get better.

He looks over to Taehyun’s bed to find him scrolling on his phone and sets the plan in motion. Oh, this is going to be so much fun. You won’t even know what hit you. Not literally of course…. Well…. Maybe.

You don’t take two steps inside the dorm before Kai slams you against the door and smashes his lips against yours. You open your mouth to gasp and he doesn’t hesitate to stick his tongue inside.

His hands travel from your face down to your thighs tugging you up into his arms. He uses the new position to press into you harder. Humping up into your clothed pussy.

“Kai,” you run your hands down from his shoulders to his chest, tapping slightly. “Kai, baby, I need to breathe.”

“Do you really?” He pouts up at you. “I’d gladly die so long as my last breath is going into your body.”

“Pack it up, Romeo. I want to see the surprise you said you had for me.” You shift your hips a bit lower to rut against his. “If I like it, I’ll give you a reward, yeah?”

“Will you, baby?” He squeezes your hips. “Are you sure you can handle what I want? I've got two whole free days in a row, I can’t even imagine the things I could do to you in that time.”

“Well, we can’t do anything against this door.”

“Wanna bet?”

After Kai proves you very, very wrong, he takes you back to his room to actually begin the plan. He lays you down gently on your back and hovers over you.

“Baby, would you like to try something today?” He asks gently as he rubs your sides.

“Like what?” You look at him with slightly glazed eyes.

“Remember that surprise I had for you? I want to play a game sweetie.” He says with a sweet smile, but his eyes tell a completely different story.

“What kind of game?” You ask feeling excitement flow down your body straight to your core.

“Well….”

Of all the things you’ve let Kai do to you, this has to be the most embarrassing. It’s hot- there’s no denying that, but god. You’ve always known you had a bit of a degradation kink (let’s be real here, not even just a bit), but did you really need to add humiliation to the list?

Because there's nothing more humiliating than walking down the hallway in nothing but panties and one of Kai's shirts with trembling legs. It’s not the fact that you’re wearing those that humiliate you, but what lies under them. You're lucky no one is out of their room yet. Well, you hope someone is out.

Kai probably thought he was so smart for setting this game up as if you haven't known the guys for nearly five years. Well, the jokes on him because you know just the person to shut it down, and then you'll go back to gloat.

Realistically speaking, there's no way he'd know if you just went in the bathroom for a bit and then came back. Maybe you’ll just do that. Though you don’t even want to think about what Kai’d do if he found out.

Has the dorm always been this large? Or are you just moving extremely slowly? If you don't get there soon, you think you'll come again and you've already done it twice.

When you get to the room, you knock twice softly. If he doesn't answer, you'll just go with plan B and hope Kai doesn't find out. Your plans are thwarted when you hear a soft 'come in.'

You push open the door to find Soobin at his desk and fucking Beomgyu on his bed playing on his phone. They both look at you and Beomgyu sits up.

"What's up y/n?"

"Um, I need to talk to Soobin," You say standing by the door as casually as you can.

"Oh, go ahead," Beomgyu says lying back down.

"Is it okay if you leave?" You shift awkwardly, hoping he just complies.

"No, I don't think I want to. Go ahead and talk to him." He says easily.

"Seriously, just go." You shoot him a glare. "It'll only be a minute."

"Hm. Alright then. I'll remember that." With those words, Beomgyu grabs his phone and heads out the door, making sure to bump your shoulder as he goes.

"What's up?" Soobin asks, turning his chair around to face his bed and waving you over.

You make your way over as naturally as you can and stand near his bed. As much as you're sure Soobin likes you well enough, you don't think he'd appreciate you leaving a wet spot on his bed.

"I just need you to do something for me, and then I'll be out of your hair." You say neutrally. "I don't want to bother you too much on one of your rare free days."

"Alright, what can I do for you?" He says leaning a bit closer to you.

"Well..." You hesitate a bit. "You promise not to judge me?"

"Of course, I won't judge you, y/n." He furrows his eyes a bit. "Did you and Kai get into an argument? Also, sit down so we can talk comfortably.”

"Um, no, we didn't." You start and move a bit closer. "And I kind of can't sit down."

His eyebrows raise. "Why not? My bed is clean, I promise. I just did laundry a few days ago."

"Um, that's not why. Actually, that's even more reason for me to not sit."

"And why is that?"

"I'm just going to say it, okay? Don't interrupt and don't judge me." You assert before launching into your explanation. "KaiputabulletvibeinmeandsaidthatIhavetoaskoneofyoutotakeitout."

"What?"

"Kai... he put a bullet vibe in me and said that I have to ask... one of you to take it out."

His eyes widen. "Really?"

"Yeah, I even have the remote for it."

"Well, why do you have the remote? And if you have it, why don't you just cut it off yourself?"

"...He said you get to choose whether you take it out, turn it down, or... turn it up. I can't do it myself." You really hope this doesn't change the way Soobin thinks about you.

"Oh." Soobin suddenly stands, startling you. "Well, now that you've cleared that up, go on and sit down."

"Soobin, I just told y-"

"And I said to sit down. You're really going to talk back when I'm the one you're asking for help?" He fixes you with a bored look.

Your mouth slams shut. It’s safe to say that you didn’t expect this. You really thought Soobin would just smile softly as he usually does and help you out. Maybe he just wants you to be comfortable? You hesitantly sit on the edge of his bed facing him.

"Give me the remote," He says, reaching an arm out. You hesitate before handing it over. “So you can be good. Was that so hard?”

"N-no." You stammer out, pressing your thighs together. Soobin wastes no time, walking in front of you and kneeling right in front of your legs.

"Okay, now let me see.”

"W-what?" You look down at him in shock. "What do you mean?"

"I mean let me see you. Are you so dumb already? I don’t think that was a hard request.” One of his hands, the one not holding the remote, travels up your leg stopping about mid-thigh. “You’re so lucky Kai told us not to touch you... or in any way that matters, at least."

"I- You want to see?"

"That's what I said, no? Y'know what? I was trying so hard to be nice but you'll learn." He clicks a button on the remote and suddenly the vibrations inside of you get so much stronger. You gasp and curl into yourself in pleasure.

"Ah! Soobin, please!"

"Do what I said, and I'll stop." You hurry to open your legs in front of him, and the vibrations slow down. You know there's an embarrassing wet spot on your panties and you can't bear to look at him. It's weird having a man that's not Kai so close to you in this way. Weird, but not unwelcome. "Move your panties out of the way. Do I have to tell you everything?"

You move a hand down to pull your panties to the side, trying to ignore the way your juices make the move sticky. You chance a glance at Soobin to find him completely transfixed. His throat bobs and his hand twitches where it is on your thigh.

"Fuck, you're so pretty here too." He moves a bit closer. "Play with your clit for me, baby."

You whimper and bring your other hand down to rub at your nub. Your hips buck a bit from the stimulation and you fall back. The vibrations raise again and you let out a moan.

"Just like that, I want you to make a mess on my bed. Don't you want that too?" Well, you didn't, but now nothing else seems right. You look down at Soobin and see him wet his lips while his eyes remain on your lower half. You nod in agreement but then there's a click and the vibrations slow down.

"Why'd you do that?"

"Ask me." He says it like a plea and a demand at once. “Ask me to let you come on my bed." He crawls over you, hips bracketing yours. He’s not close enough to touch anywhere that matters but close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body. "C'mon, pretty, be good for me. You can be good can't you?"

"Yes, yes, I can." You reply, looking up at him. "Binnie, I want to make a mess on your bed. Please let me."

"You're asking me to let you come on my bed? You want to come on your boyfriend's friend's bed?" He looks at you in wonder, clicking a button so the vibrations rise again. "You're so dirty, bunny. Go ahead."

Your jaw drops open in a gasp and your head tilts back at the stimulation. Soobin’s hand comes up to grab your jaw and make you hold eye contact. He’s drinking in the expressions on your face as if it’s the last time he’ll get to witness you fall apart like this. You come with a long moan and then start whimpering again when the vibrations don't stop. "Bin, please! Turn it off, I came!"

"I can't turn it off, pretty. Well, I can, but I won't." With that Soobin climbs off of you and grabs your hand to pull you up. He hands you back the remote and smiles. "I'm sure someone else will help you out though." He pushes you towards the door and relishes in the way you stumble out.

As soon as the door closes Soobin goes back to his knees in front of where you were sitting. He admires the wet spot on his bed for a bit before leaning in closer and breathing in your scent. His hands travel down to his pants and palms his length.

“Fuck.” He moans as his eyes close to picture how you looked beneath him. How pretty you sounded. How beautiful you are everywhere. He really feels like a pervert when he opens his mouth to kiss and lick at the spot you left. Reaching beneath his pants to rub at his dick. It shouldn’t feel as good as it does, considering how dry it is but Soobin feels like he has the best damn orgasm of his life. He can’t imagine how it’ll feel when he gets inside you. Shit. Just the thought of it has him hardening up again.

He strips out of his pants and boxers and positions his hips to be even with the spot. Let's just say that when he's done, his bed is wetter than it was when you left.

When you leave the room, you see Beomgyu on the couch and immediately continue down the hallway until he calls out to you.

"You're not even going to ask me to help?" He asks with a smirk.

"No." You say simply, turning away from him. "If I'm lucky, I won't have to ask you at all."

"Hm. We'll see how that works out for you." He says with a laugh.

When you open the door to Kai’s room, you find him gone and Taehyun clearing out his bag. He must’ve just gotten back from the gym.

“Hey, y/n.” He says with a smile that’s a little too knowing. “What’s up?”

“You mean you don’t know?” You ask in disbelief. Soobin outright said that Kai told them not to touch you. Beomgyu also hinted at it in the hallway. You find it hard to believe that Taehyun, Kai’s best friend, isn’t in on the game.

“Know what?” He asks as he walks in front of you. “You look a little flushed, are you okay?” He brings a hand up to wipe some hair out of your face and feel your forehead.

“No, I’m fine.” You shake your head a bit. “Well, not fine but I’m not sick.”

“And why aren’t you fine, hm?” He tilts his head to the side innocently. You’d almost believe the act if there wasn’t a storm brewing in those big eyes of his.

“Kai told you about the game. I know he told you about it.”

“What game?” He asks as he walks back over to his bag, continuing to take things out of it. “I’m just getting back from the gym, y/n, I don’t have time for you to come in here and speak in riddles.”

“I’m not speaking in riddles. You’re playing dumb.” You say with a scoff, crossing your arms.

“I’m playing dumb? That’s rich coming from you.” He pauses to get a look at you. “Or I guess it’s not really playing in your case.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You walk over to him.

“I’m just saying. You came bursting in here and all you’ve done thus far is mouth off at me.” He turns to face you. “I don’t know what you’re used to, but I’m not gonna tolerate it. If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, I’m sure any of the other guys will entertain you just fine.

“I came here to ask for help.” At your words he scoffs.

“You must know you’re not getting help with the way you’ve been talking to me.”

"What did you expect me to do?" Your arms shoot up with your words. "The entire time I've been here, you've been speaking down on me like I'm-"

Your words are cut off when Tae's hand shoots up to grab your face. He squeezes your cheeks together and brings your head up.

"Like you're what?" He tilts his head with a mocking pout. "Like you're nothing more than a stupid slut?"

His words have your thighs pressing together and a frown coming on your face. “I’m no-“ you’re not able to finish before he’s squeezing your cheeks harder.

“You’re not? Are you really gonna lie when you're here like this?" He brings his hand down to ghost over your neck making your breath catch. "Pretty face flushed? Eyes glazed with tears? A fucking vibrator in your cunt? What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I'm sorry, Tyun. I didn't mean to." He scoffs at your words, and you can hardly blame him because you don't believe yourself either. But that's okay. You've gotten out of worse with Hyuka; maybe he won't be so different. "I really didn't mean to! I'm just- It's just so hard. It hurts, Tyun, please help me? Please?"

He hums before pushing you back onto his bed and walking over to his desk to drag his chair in front of it. “Where’s the remote?”

You hold it out to him but he shakes his head and says, “Keep it. Lean against the wall with your legs spread.”

You follow his instructions and look a him again. “What? Not gonna say anything?”

“No. It didn’t help much when I did.” You say with a frown.

“Hm. Maybe you can learn something.” He relaxes into the chair as if he’s watching a movie. “Turn it up.” He nods to the remote in your hand. “Don’t even think about pretending.”

You click the top button on the remote and barely have time to let out a little 'oh' at the uptake in vibrations before Taehyun continues to rattle on.

"You didn't even ask me how my time at the gym was. That's quite rude, don't you think?" His words have your face twisting in confusion. He's not wrong, but surely there are more important matters than his gym session. You continue staring at him until he tilts his head as if urging you to ask.

"How was the gym, Tyun?" He gives you a once over before letting out an 'up' and waits for the click to launch into his description of his time.

You're able to listen to the start of his rant about meeting up with a few friends to push a 'PR' and triceps until all you can focus on are the vibrations the little toy is sending throughout your body. It's really not your fault. You've always been sensitive and although the vibe isn't touching that sweet spot inside of you it still feels really good. Almost too good. You don't even realize that your eyes have closed until Taehyun calls your name.

"Hm?" You blink up at him dazed.

"You're not even listening to me. Turn it down." Before you can open your mouth to refuse, he's cutting you off. "That wasn't a question." Click.

"Anyways, where was I? Oh, yes! And then..." Now you're not listening to him because you're too busy thinking about how much of an ass he is. If he didn't want to play, why even keep you in here? You do not care about his stupid gym session or how some guy almost got crushed if Taehyun hadn't been there to hold up the bar, you kinda wish he got crushed since-

"Y/n." Your eyes flick back to him again. "You really don't know how to listen, do you?"

"I'm sorry, which one of us has a vibrator inside of them right now?" His jaw clenches at your words and he stands up to rip the remote out of your hands before sitting back down.

Click. Click. Click.

You gasp and hunch over at the pleasure that surges through your body. "Tae-"

"Shut up. Isn't this what you wanted?" You don't get a chance to respond before you're coming and slumping over onto his bed. You expect the vibrations to lower after that, but, of course, they don't. You're quickly learning that nothing with Taehyun will be that easy.

“Turn it off! Please!” Your words don’t make a difference, if anything it makes Taehyun lean closer in his chair watching you with heat in his eyes. Tears flow down your face and your body is scrunched as if that’ll make things better. “Tae! I can’t!”

“No.” Taehyun watches you writhing on his bed before continuing. “You know what to say if you really want me to stop. But we both know you don’t want that, right?”

His words have more tears fall because he’s right. You know that at any moment you could make everything stop but you don’t want to. You want him to push you in a different way than Kai. Not that your boyfriend doesn’t push you like this. Kai likes to sweeten his mockery with coos and kisses, while Tae makes sure to let you know how desperate you are. It’s exhilarating in a way.

The pulses inside of you get stronger and you’re tumbling over the edge again. He shows mercy by lowering the intensity before pulling you up and wiping your tears away with gentle hands, not that it helps because more fall again soon after.

“Good. Maybe next time I’ll be nicer if you aren’t so rude.” With that and a light tap to your butt, he’s pushing you out of the room and closing the door.

As you slowly make your way to the final room you notice the Beomgyu is not in the living room anymore.

You don't even bother knocking on Yeonjun's door before entering. If you can call entering, stumbling in and nearly falling on your face. Yeonjun startles from where he is on his bed until he sees the state that you're in.

"Oh, you poor thing." He says standing and walking over to you. His arms circle your waist and pull you into his body, steadying you. He tilts your head up and asks, “Who'd you ask so far?"

"Soobin and Taehyun." You say with a sniffle. Yeonjun’s hands moving to wipe away your tears and guide you to the bed.

"Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. They must’ve been so mean to you, huh?” He says guiding you to the bed and taking the remote from where it's clenched in your hands. "Does it hurt?"

"It hurts so bad, Junie," You don't think you've stopped crying since you left Taehyun's room. "Help me, please."

"I'll help you, honey, but can you do something for me?" He guides you into laying your head in his lap and caresses your hair when you nod. "Can you take one more for me, baby? One more and it'll all be over."

When you nod again, the vibe picks up once again and you thrash a bit on the bed, crying out.

"Shh, shh, it's okay." He continues petting your hair, cooing at you with a gentle look in his eyes. "You can take it. You're so good for me, for us. Just give me one more, yeah? Need to see how pretty you look when you come."

He wipes the tears from your eyes and continues to pet your hair as the vibe works you up to the edge. It takes a while but his gaze doesn’t falter from your face. Tracing your features with something akin to awe. It’s so intimate you want to both turn away and bask in it. When you’re pushed over the edge, he turns the vibe down to let you ride it out and then turns it off completely.

"Here, let me help you." He gently moves from under you and brings himself between your legs. Pulling down your soaked panties and pocketing them. He then runs his hands back up your thighs slowly. "You did so well, sweetie." His hands are gentle, reverent, as they trace shapes along your body. He takes a minute to look at how your hole flutters around the toy inside of you before he grabs the end of the vibe and pulls it out with careful hands to not overstimulate you any more than you already are.

He lets you lay there for a bit catching your breath before he moves to help you sit up. He hands you both the remote and the vibe.

"Go tell Hueningie how well you did, okay?" You nod again with a sniffle and then lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, Junie."

When you make it back to Kai's room, you nearly let out a groan when you see Beomgyu in there instead of him.

"Junie took it out for me you're not needed here." You say with a glare, holding up the remote and the vibe.

"I figured he would," He says with a shrug. "That's why I asked Hyuka to tweak the rules a bit for me."

"Wha-" You don't get to say much more before Beomgyu pulls you onto the bed and straddles your hips. You try to push him away but he gathers both of your wrists in one hand and pushes them above your head.

"You see, you've been so mean to me today." He says leaning in close to you. "Can you tell me why? I was so excited to play with you."

"'Cause I knew you'd be mean to me. I know your game, Gyu." You say looking away from him. That doesn't last long when he grips your chin roughly and turns it back to him.

"What game? Do you mean the shy act Soobin put on? Bet you didn't know how much of a pervert he is. I'm sure he's humping his bed at the thought of you writhing under him like this. Or how about Taehyun, hm? I'm sure he just bowed over and helped you out, right? No? That's odd. The only one of us that's actually nice is Yeonjun."

"I didn't know that before. But you've told me about how you are in bed. You've told all of us."

"What if I was gonna be nice, huh? Maybe I like taking care of good girls?" He says snaking his hand down to your throat, squeezing just enough. "Guess you won't find out because you've been such a brat. Shame."

"What're you gonna do to me?" He answers your question with a laugh.

“Oh, not much.” He says making his way down your body, pulling your shirt up as he goes. “Just when Kai and I discussed your behavior, we reached the same conclusion. If you’re not too fucked out of your mind, maybe you’ll catch on too.”

He marks those words with a harsh suck to your clit that pulls a yelp out of you and makes your hands shoot down to pull on his hair. Your movements seem to encourage him because he moves lower to tease his tongue at your hole before licking a wet stripe back up to your clit.

That alone has your thighs closing around his head but he quickly pulls back and pushes your thighs up.

“Hold them.” When you make no movements to, he fixes you with a look that has you scrambling to do as he said.

With that, he places a kiss on your mound before getting back to work. Sucking and licking into you before pulling back to nip along your thighs. Your wetness paints the bottom of his face and despite the harshness of his eyes, he looks so pretty that you have to look away from him.

You're too busy replaying the image of him in your head that you didn’t even register him moving his hand up to put two fingers inside but you definitely feel it and it makes you buck your hips up, chasing his touch.

“Gyu! ‘m gonna, oh god, 'm gonna come.” He doesn’t respond but his movements get almost desperate. He fucks his tongue deep into you and uses his fingers to press on that sweet spot inside you that pushes you closer to the edge. He waits until you're on the perfect edge to pull away.

“No.” His words make a new wave of tears fall from your eyes. You were right there. While he waits for you to come down, he presses kisses to your thighs, paying extra attention to the marks he left previously. When the desperate need in you fizzles out, he starts up again.

By the third edge, you have tears flowing down your face and pleas falling out of your lips like a prayer.

"Gyu, please, please! I-I can't. Please, 'm sorry, sorry."

"Go on then." You don't get a chance to open your mouth before he starts speaking again.

"I thought you wanted to come so bad? Why are you taking so long? Hurry up, before I stop again."

You open your mouth to apologize? Thank him? You don't even know yourself but all that comes out is a long, drawn-out moan that marks your orgasm. You pull on his hair and he comes up while placing kisses along your body while praising you.

“You did so good, love. So pretty and perfect for us. Such a good girl. It’s all over now, baby. You can rest and I’ll take care of everything else.” At his words, your eyes flutter closed.

When you come to, you’re clean and dressed in another one of Kai's shirts pressed against his chest with one of his arms around you while the other holds his phone. His attention shifts from the phone to your face at your movement and he gives you a smile.

“Hey, baby.” He says with a smile. “How’re you feeling?”

You take a minute to think. “Good, if not a bit sore.”

“I figured you’d be.” He nods and then asks, “How was it? How were they?”

“It was interesting but fun.” You say with a smile. “They’re all very different than you.” And then with an afterthought, “and each other.”

“Good different or bad different?” His question would seem innocent if you didn’t know how to read him after four years of dating. You catch the way his arm tenses subtly from where it’s under you and the way his eyes waver a bit.

“Not good or bad. Just different.” You say with a shrug. Your words make him relax and he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

I'm sorry it took so long, but yippie step three was a success! I hope it was worth the wait! I'm not going to jinx anything but chapter four should be out sooner rather than later.

Kai being worried about how he 'measures up' to the rest of the guys isn't going to be a major plot point, but I do think it's important. As stated before, you've both only been with each other so I do think he'd be a bit nervous about if you'll end up preferring someone over him (that won't happen because Hyuka is amazing and we love him, but still).

Who do you think will be your 'first' kiss among the four?

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prince-jjae · 4 months ago

Note

heh, so for kinktober or just a regular fic atp. Can u do toxic relationship w/ yeonjun. Like reader and yeonjun are in a situationship and yeonjun says that him and reader can’t have any strings attached if they’re just gonna have sex. But like reader rlly doesn’t care so they just keep having one night stands with random people at the club. And one day, yeonjun catches her and gets jealous and BOOM raw sex. But then angst bc reader says he doesn’t love her so they’re free to hit on whoever they want. So they argue and reader never sees yeonjun again. BUT LIKE IF U DON’T WANNA MAKE THIS ANGST THEN U CAN MAKE IT A HAPPY ENDING :3 heh, my brain is going brr brr rn. Ok ty! 💕

Escapism.

mdni, nsfw!!

pairings: choi yeonjun/reader

genre: smut, angst. hurt/no comfort??

warnings: fwb?yeonjun, meandom!yeonjun, mentions of beomgyu, mentions of club bathroom sex (Dont!), name calling (slut, whore, etc), unprotected sex (Dont! pt2), gender neutral reader but they have feminine anatomy, jealousy, anger, kinda dubcon if you think too hard about it, player!reader, if i forgot any lmk!

jjae's comments: this is.... insane. I sat down to write this thinking itd be like.. 1k? around the same length of my other fics? but no... welcome to 3k words of pure smut and sadness. i made yeonjun a lot more pathetic in this fic than i think the ask originally intended, but i hope it still reads well!! enjoy!

“No strings attached.” he had said. No strings attached. If that's what he wanted, then why was Yeonjun acting this way? He hadn't the faintest idea, but the sight of you dragging a puppy-looking guy to the bathroom with your finger hooked into the front of his jeans made his chest cave in.

He thought this was a good idea, months ago. Back when you were only focused on him with your puppy-crush. Maybe it was the power he held over you back then that convinced him to do this. The strength he had over your every move made his head too foggy with desire to see the fatal error of his ways. Back then you seemed like just a nerdy college student, out of place and quiet. Just his type. He was glad the work of approaching you had been done for him, smirking at the board with your name scrawled next to his. ‘Just how cliche would this get?’ He wondered at the time. It was practically fate. He spent weeks breaking through your cold and bitter exterior, dead-set on tasting the sweet softness that he knew you kept well-hidden. It was the thrill of the chase. The promise of something forbidden, off-limits. Sure, he could give any excuse he wanted, but getting into your bed with you was always his goal. You were a sweet poison, he soon found. You were the sweetest of nectars, yet shockingly deadly. He was in bed with you, his plush lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to your heated skin. He drank in the quiet whimper you let out when his teeth scraped at you with the sharp promise of his canines marring your soft skin.

“No strings attached.” He had whispered to you huskily, and you dumbly nodded along, eager to please so he would keep going. So he would consume you like the fire you knew he was. He said it more for his own sake than yours, he thought. He knew from the first time he had you under him, obscene sounds coming from where your hips collided, mouth spilling rivulets of drool around his fingers which pressed and prodded at your tongue, that he was thoroughly fucked.

But now, after months of being your.. What was the right word for it? Was this a situationship? Was he your friend-with-benefits? You two had never talked about it. Hell, you hardly did anything more than moan into each other's mouths and skin. Neither of you were next to one another by the time the sunshine graced your apartment windows. He knew better, now. If he was going to continue drinking in your poison by the mouthful, he needed to be careful. Precise, even.

Yeonjun sighed, watching you go as he swirled the drink in his hand. You didn’t know he was there. You didn’t even see the text he had sent you 2 hours prior on your phone, you were too busy scanning the crowd. He had texted you the second he walked through the doors into the club he knew you frequented. He was perhaps a little desperate to see you, but he would never tell you as much. Hell, it was hard to even admit it to himself. He craved you like he craved air.

But you didn't care. You didn't even react to the buzzing in your pocket, sharp eyes intent on finding your next victim. This club was your web, and you were a black widow. He hadn’t known it when he stumbled into your trap all those months ago, but you were vicious. You took control of him like a possession, the thrum of your power over him was buzzing under his skin constantly. Your kiss was a brand, ruining him for anyone or anything else.

The great player, Choi Yeonjun, reduced to a simpering, desperate boy. How far he had fallen in pursuit of you.

He recognized the man you had picked - your victim for the night - as Choi Beomgyu. He was a friend of Yeonjun’s, actually. They bickered a lot, but they got along well enough. He recalls mentioning you to him before.. Had Beomgyu sought you out because of him? The thought made his stomach churn. Jealousy cut through him like a searing hot knife, the jagged edge catching his anger in just the right way. His eyes remained fixed on the bathroom door, sipping away at his drink the entire time you occupied it. He wasn’t stupid. He knew what you were doing in there, but he needed to see it. He needed to know that you were really doing this.

He had no right to be jealous, he knew that. Rationally, realistically, this was none of his fucking business. He was the one who suggested you two wouldn’t be exclusive. Why should he be upset now that his own words were haunting him. Was it because he never expected to get this attached? Or was it the realisation that you didn’t feel the same? It was obvious that you didn’t care for him the way he cared for you. He could live with that, he thought. He could live with you not loving him back, but seeing you sneak off with someone new right before his very eyes? This was an anger he was unfamiliar with. He was never on the receiving end of this. Perhaps this was karma, finally catching up to him and providing him the pain he usually dished out freely. Perhaps he deserved this.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, makeup smudged and clothes wrinkled, his heart plummeted to the floor. He glanced behind you, watching Beomgyu walk out with a dazed look in his eyes, shirt halfway undone and hair a mess. You loved pulling on his hair when he gave you head, He thought. The memory of him being the one between your thighs finally snapped the cord in him.

He slammed his drink down onto the table next to him, ignoring the way the other patrons flinched at the loud crack the glass made against the worn wood. He was already halfway across the floor. You didn’t even notice him until he was on you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the club with the shadow of his rage hanging over him like a cloud. He barely registered you tugging at his arm, trying to get him to let you go, trying to ask him what was going on. Your questions fell on deaf ears. He was on a mission as he dragged you to his apartment for the first time, only a few minutes walk away from the club.

He was going to prove he was better. No one else could have you the way he could.

Yeonjun liked to believe that he was a gentle lover. That he could be mean when it was required or requested of him, but for the most part, he was a giver. Full of plush words and promises that usually held no actual weight. A phrase echoed in his mind at that, something about truth being singular, and lies being words, words, words. In that case, Yeonjun guessed he was a liar of a lover. It tracked, if he really thought about it. Like now, when he had you pressed into the door the second you two were beyond the threshold, kissing you like a man starved. His hands were possessive, gripping onto your flesh wherever he could. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to prove- actually, scratch that. He did know. He wanted to erase every memory of Beomgyu’s touch, He wanted to burn it away with his own until only his touch remained on your skin.

You weren't sure where this animalistic side of Yeonjun came from, but you hardly had it in you to complain. You should probably push him away, demand answers, but you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him. The knowledge of this made yeonjun grin against your neck before sinking his teeth into the soft junction between the column of your throat and your shoulder, pulling a pleasured scream from your lips. He practically growled against the skin, fingers trailing down to push aside the skimpy shorts you wore.

“You let him finish inside?” He grit out, fingers sliding easily through your soaked core. The sound of Beomgyu’s cum leaking onto Yeonjun’s hardwood floor should have made you embarrassed, but instead of shame burning through you, only lust remained. You shivered, nodding at Yeonjun like a bobblehead, mind swirling in the wake of his rough handling of you. He just laughed, but the chuckle he released was devoid of humour. He was angry. You let him fill you? Did you let anyone else do the same?

“Dirty fucking thing.” He spat at you before hauling you up, legs around his waist. He carried you to the bed, flinging you unceremoniously onto the covers. You were still bouncing on the mattress from the sheer force he used to toss you onto it when he descended on you. He was all tongue, teeth and rage as he practically tore your clothes off of you. He hardly gave you any space to breathe, let alone think. Your mind was a useless puddle of mush as he manhandled you, adjusting your body the way he wanted. By the time you could gather the mental presence it took to move your eyes downward, His breath was already fanning hotly at your still-sore cunt. Your eyes widened comically, but he only laughed at you before diving in and eating you with the crazed frenzy of a man who had never eaten before in his life. He had to clean you, had to rid you of any evidence of his friend. You had to become pure again, only for him to defile you himself, make you his the way you had made him yours. He had to show you, even if he couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. Surely, you'd understand, right? You understood him. He was sure of it.

Your hands instantly tangled in his silky locks, tugging harshly enough to pull a hiss from his lips the second his tongue made contact. You squealed, body still sensitive from your previous orgasm with Beomgyu, but Yeonjun didn’t care. He wasn't doing this for pleasure, he was doing this to make a point. To make you his. He ate you with fervor, a mix of your arousal, Beomgyu’s release and Yeonjun’s drool making his face a fucking sopping mess. It dripped onto the sheets below, but he paid it no mind, allowing you to rock your hips desperately on his tongue and nose as he worked you up again. You were sobbing, fat tears streaming down your face and clumping your pretty lashes together. All he could think about while you bumped your swollen clit against his nose was how badly he wanted to ruin you once he was done. Your wails and pleas fell on deaf ears. He had no plans on slowing down, giving you any breaks. You had teased him enough, he thought, parading around with Beomgyu’s cum still stuffed inside you. He was intent on replacing it with his own. When you finally came, sobbing out his name into the silent, cold air of his apartment, you collapsed, boneless onto the sheets. Your hand clasped at your naked chest, sweat cooling your skin as you scrambled to catch your breath. You couldn't remember a single time when Yeonjun behaved like this, did things like this, ate you like this. Sure, he loved having you on his tongue, but he was always so sweet, drawing out every little hum and movement out for your pleasure. This shift in his demeanour left you confused, for sure, but you found it so hot that you couldn't stop to ask any questions. Your eyes flew open again, desperately clawing at his arms when he shifted your body again. He lifted you with ease, flipping you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing.

“Can't- jjunnie, please!” You cried, voice slightly muffled by the pillow he shoved your face into. He just sneered down at you, dragging his drooling cock through your soaked folds. He had no mercy for you, not anymore. He leaned down, smirking at the way your breath stuttered when the head of his cock caught your entrance. The feeling of his hot breath on your skin paled in comparison to the mean words he spat into your ear.

“You’ll fucking take what I give you, slut.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to feel any shame at his words. In fact, you revelled in them, pushing your hips back against him. It caught him by surprise, and you were so wet that he sunk into you with ease with that simple movement alone. A punched out groan fell from his pouty lips, one of his hands gripping your hip in a bruising hold. You were sure his fingertips would leave bruises for you to press on by tomorrow morning.

“God- You’re so fucking desperate, arent you? Just got your pussy stuffed with cum and you're already begging for more?” He laughed, the sound mean and cruel in your ears as he set a brutal pace. You were so slick that the sounds that reverberated in yeonjuns bedroom was fucking obscene. You felt filthy, dirty, used- and you loved it. You weren’t sure how, but Yeonjun could tell. You knew he could. Maybe it was the way your walls fluttered helplessly around his fat cock, spearing into you with no mercy that gave you away. It didn’t matter, though. You hardly had the mental presence to care about anything beyond the way he stretched you out so so well. “Look at you, fucking pathetic. So eager for dick. Do I not give you enough? Huh? Do I need to stuff you full every hour of the day for you to be satiated?”

All you could do was claw at his sheets, nodding pathetically along to his words. He scoffed, reaching up to grab your chin and forcing your mouth open. “Speak, whore.”

You scrambled for words, but the syllables fell through your fingers like grains of sand. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, reminiscent of a fish out of water, before you finally managed out something akin to verbal language.

“Need- please- more- jjunnie-!” Your voice quickly dissolved into a chorus of pornographic ah, ah, ah-’s, and it sent a thrill through Yeonjun’s body. He was doing this to you. In this moment, right here in his bedroom, you were his. He shoved his fingers into your still open mouth, keeping your head thrown back as his hips ploughed into your sopping heat from behind. His thrusts were so intense they were punishing, sure to leave you sore and wobbly on your feet for days. Thinking about you stumbling around, needing his help to walk only made him growl and fuck you harder. He was far too drunk on you, on your moans, on your pussy. He couldn’t help himself.

“Need-? Getting fucked so good you cant speak, huh? Don’t worry, baby.” He grinned, but the smile was sharp and cheshire. It held no warmth for you, not that you could care or open your eyes long enough to even see it. You could feel it in his words, though, in the way he nibbled at your earlobe before shoving you down into the pillows again. “Daddy’s got you.”

He was entirely right, really. You were fucked positively stupid on his dick. You couldn’t deny that. In fact, you wouldn't. “Daddy-” you whined, voice barely audible over the lewd sounds of Yeonjun’s cock sinking into you and his hips snapping against the plush of your ass. “‘s fucking good- fuck!”

Yeonjun let out a breathless laugh before he pulled out of you. You hardly had time to whine at the loss, the aching empty feeling he left you with, before you were being moved again. Now you were on your back, and before you could even get your vision to focus on him, Yeonjun was already balls-deep in you again. With your head thrown back in bliss, throat bared for him, he couldn’t help but sneak down and leave angry, splotchy hickeys along your soft skin.

“That’s right, baby- fuck… take it. Take it. Gonna fill you up better than he did- fuck!” His hips were beginning to stutter, but his mouth kept running. He was dissolving into horny babble, but he had the presence of mind to sneak his hand down, fingers drawing rough circles on your clit that had you spasming underneath him.

He had slept with you enough times to know your tells, to know when you were going to finish. The way your head fell back, eyebrows drawn up, pretty lips making that pretty ‘o’ shape- the way you fluttered around him wildly, trying to milk him dry- you were close. He knew it. Just a few more thrusts, a slight change in angle and-

God, you were so beautiful when he had you like this, crying his name again, nails clawing uselessly against his back and leaving angry marks that he loved.

“That’s it, baby- shit. Take it, slut. Fucking take it-!” He gripped your hips firmly in both hands, using them to move you on him. It made his thrusts hit deeper, and- God, were you squirting? If anything, the revelation only made him rougher with you despite your protests that you couldn’t take it, that you needed him to slow down. He wouldn’t, though. You knew he wouldn't. He only grabbed you harder, cock slamming into your cervix in a way that made you wince before he finally filled you, pressed as deeply into you as he could manage. He pressed into you over and over, as if trying to force his seed even deeper into you. As if he could fuck it right into your little womb.

After a few more mean thrusts, you began to squirm and whine in his grip. Only then did he snap out of his jealousy-filled rage, looking into your eyes with his own so wide and pretty. There he was, that was closer to the Yeonjun you remembered. You smiled lazily at him, lifting your arms to him. With no prompting, he fell into your embrace. He peppered kisses along any skin he could reach, sighing happily into your skin when your fingers ran through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp in the way you knew he liked. You chuckled, but made no move to push him away. That was all he needed for hope to bloom in his chest again. You understood him, right? You knew what he was trying to do, what he needed. He needed you. He needed you more than air. He looked at you expectantly, hoping that you would say what he did not have the courage to.

But you didn’t say anything.

You didn’t say anything when he cleaned you up. You didn’t say anything when he carefully brought you to the bath he drew for you. You didn't say anything when he gently scrubbed your body. You didn’t say anything when he helped you back into your clothes.

You only opened your mouth to deny him when he suggested you sleep over. He didn’t know his heart could shatter so easily with just a few words. He supposed he had this coming. Yes, he was right, earlier. This was karma for all his previous misdeeds. You were karma, and you were cruel.

“No strings attached, remember?”

#jjae hard thoughts #txt smut #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu smut #kinda #yeonjun smut #yeonjun x reader #tomorrow x together #jjae's kinktober #this one posessed me im sorry #i blinked and suddenly there were 3k words on my screen...#sorry not sorry?

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imrllytootiredforthis · 1 year ago

Text

Just Friends

pairing: beomgyu x reader

summary: Just friends, just friends. That's all there is, all there's ever been but have you really ever been just friends?

warnings: gn reader, dom reader, sub beomgyu, thigh riding, handjob, lots of groping, car sex, mentions of masturbation, possibly more that i forgot

word count: 2.2k

a/n: writer's block is so real, i literal pulled this out of a sleep-deprived haze at 4 in the morning so feedback would be appreciated<3

Just friends. He tells himself over and over again.

Just friends. You tell yourself over and over again.

But friends don't do things like this on rainy nights in the back of your car. With your windows fogging up and the only light coming from a lone streetlight from the corner of the parking lot.

Friends don't clutch his hips, grinding him down against your thigh. Friends don't pant heavily at the feeling of his fingernails digging deep into the skin of your shoulders almost hard enough to draw blood.

At least they shouldn't.

But maybe you and Beomgyu have never really been 'just friends'.

"God," but it's never gone this far before. "Don't stop, please, don't stop!"

Sure there's been teasing touches and lingering looks, meaningful conversations that maybe meant more than either of you had wanted to admit.

But you hadn't expected it to go this far.

To have him clinging to you. To have his lips all over your neck and your hands all in his hair.

To have his pants discarded somewhere in the back along with his boxers in your haste...

To have his dick rubbing against the rough material of your jeans. To have him sobbing into your ear to not stop, to never stop, that he'll die without your touch.

You suppose your best friend has always been a touch dramatic.

If you could even call him that anymore-your best friend.

"Don't worry baby," every nerve ending in his body feels like it's on fire. His ears feel like they're ringing, replaying your words over and over like a broken record. "I won't."

It feels so good, it hurts so bad.

Tears stream down his face from both-from everything. From you calling him baby like he's yours. With so much affection and adoration, like he's the most important thing in the world to you right now.

Like he isn't shaking against you, crying out like some kind of wounded animal (in heat), thinking or maybe even muttering how he can't get enough, how it'll never be enough, how he wants you so bad, how he'll die before he lets you go.

Your hand guides his lips to yours, soft and sweet and hungry. Devouring every one of his whines up and replying with your own want for more, kissing him like your life depends on it. You'd always thought that he'd sound pretty, but not this pretty, not this pathetic or needy.

"Fuck, Beomgyu."

Your mouth clashes against his over and over, saliva dripping down his chin as he tries and fails in trying not to drool. You're too preoccupied in nipping at his lips that you're faintly aware of his hands slipping under your shirt until they're on your chest, squeezing and exploring everything he's only fantasized of.

He hasn't felt this good before. Ever. Not from past partners or from his own hand. Toys feel like nothing compared to this, the unforgiving bite of denim somehow lightyears better than vibrators and dildos and whatever else he's used to replicate your touch.

The friction makes him feel like he's burning but his hips just rut faster. He wishes it was your skin, soft and comfortable and you-but he doesn't think he can be patient enough. Doesn't think he can find it in himself to let go of you long enough for you to take your pants off. He has his nose in your hair and the taste of you on his tongue, and he can't stop now.

He can't stop. Not when he's wanted this for so, so long.

Okay, so maybe you've never truly been 'just friends'.

Well, maybe before that first time you were out at a party together and a friend of a friend approached Beomgyu, trying to talk him up while you stood right next to him.

Before you'd watched, something ugly simmering in the pit of your stomach that you couldn't fully decipher-that you weren't sure you wanted to decipher.

It was only until Beomgyu shot you a pleading look that you were able to keep your cool and then you'd very kindly told that friend of a friend to back the fuck off and leave the two of you alone.

And maybe, just maybe Beomgyu had gone home that night and let his hand wander past his waistband to wrap around his aching cock.

Jesus christ.

With each stroke of his hand he conjured your image in his mind. It was you looking at him, watching him-touching him. Talking to him in that same cold, mean voice you had talked to that friend of a friend.

Hating him and loving him all in one, rough and cruel but soft and caring. He wanted all of it, all of you.

And then afterwards it was basking in an afterglow of remembering the way that your eyes softened once again when they landed on him and your hand touched his shoulder and you asked if he was okay.

Friends do this...right? He'd thought, not ready yet to admit that maybe it was something more.

Just friends that brought you to his apartment a few weeks later, slightly ashamed and very drunk and looking for some kind of comfort after you'd been out drinking for better part of the night.

Just friends that had your hands all over his body and your lips all over his throat, sloppy wet kisses making his head spin and his body heat up. That'd had you shoving him down onto the couch and climbing on top of him, pushing your knee between his legs as your cold hands slithered up his shirt in search of warm, smooth skin to lay claim on as yours.

Just friends with the way that you promptly passed out on top of him and conveniently remembered nothing of the night before. Of groping your best friend, of telling him how pretty he was, of whispering that he was a good boy.

'I want you.'

'You're so pretty.'

'Perfect.'

'My good boy.'

'Mine.'

Friends don't know the way his moans sound. Or the way his skin feels against yours.

Like tonight,

A movie. That was all it was supposed to be.

Platonic. Friends. Just going to see a movie together, get dinner after. Nothing more.

"Touch me! G-od, please touch me!" His hand flies up, fingers dig into your wrist as he pulls it down between his legs, his dick throbbing and needy.

It feels so much better-your hand-your skin, your fingers loosely wrapping around him, teasingly rubbing at the tip. "And why should I baby? Have you been good? Have you been a good boy?"

He doesn't know.

He doesn't knowHe doesn't knowHe doesn't know.

All he knows is you.

Just friends shouldn't let things get to this point.

...Oh well.

A movie. A quiet theatre. Darkness and eyes all too often glancing at the profile of the other.

A tension palpable in the air as fingers brushed against each other to grab popcorn. Hands aching, itching to hold each other. An agonizing one hundred and twenty minutes.

Nothing though.

Only getting into the car afterwards and driving off.

"What do you want to eat?" He only shrugs in reply and you roll your eyes. "Helpful."

"Well I dunno," he thinks, "the usual? I can place an order to your place and we should get back before it gets there."

You hum in reply. "It's late though, you planning to stay over for the night?"

"...Sure."

Hesitation. He can only think of the last time you stayed the night. So long ago now, he'd avoided either of you spending the night at the others ever since. From fear? From preservation? Or from hoping that your frustration would break the dam first.

'I want you.'

'Mine.'

Words that flash through his mind unbridled. Sounds and touches that flood his brain

'My good boy.'

He swallows, trying to keep his eyes on the screen of the phone. Trying to hope the darkness blankets how red his face has turned.

"Hey could you pull over here?"

"Sure?" You'd glanced over at him and the question on your face evident.

He didn't elaborate though and you didn't ask.

You'd pulled into a mostly empty parking lot. Only a few cars left in front of a grey, drab building. Parked beside a flickering streetlight that continued for a few minutes before doing out completely. Certainly the furthest thing from being romantic by any means.

Nothing specific broke the tension, the unspoken rules.

But the next thing the either of you know is he's on your lap clawing at you aimlessly, pure desire fuelling him to do such pathetic things. Like telling you how horny he is and how bad he needs you.

You don't seem to have any problem with his confession though.

Responding in turn rather appropriately you'd think. And then your lips are against his and you're tugging at his clothes and touching his body like he's your last lifeline.

And then you're in the backseat of the car, his pants and boxers discarded into the back, your lips curled into a smirk against his skin.

And then you're here.

Doing things that friends certainly should not be doing.

"M' a good boy, promise! Please, I'll be your good boy!"

You'd imagined how his face would look all fucked out all but a million times in the dead of night, thinking about things you certainly should not have been thinking about.

But you'd never know that your imagination would do absolutely no justice to the real thing.

To his lips slick with your spit and his skin glowing with a sheen of sweat. Eyes fluttering like he's fighting to merely keep them open with every sensation he's feeling.

"Pretty~" you mutter.

Bite marks and hickeys all over his neck and collarbone-good thing it's nearly scarf season. Or bad thing, you're not sure you want him to hide these or if you want him to parade them around, show off your claim to him to everyone.

"So fucking pretty it's not fair-" a high, needy whine climbs up his throat and he lets it, because you don't even have to say it, he knows how much you love hearing how good you make him feel.

His eyebrows tug together as if in concentration. Concentration to stay sane while you let him fuck into your hand.

You trail a finger over his cheekbone, collecting a tear while everything within him tries not to let this end, because it can't be over yet, he doesn't want it to be over yet and he's not sure he can go again until later-if there is a later.

You lick the tear off your finger and his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head. "Not fucking fair to make me wait this long. Such a tease, such a whore."

Fingers press against his lips and he opens with zero hesitation. This is what you want, this is what he wants-more than anything.

You pull them out all too soon and replace your fingers with your tongue, letting him suck it into his mouth with a moan.

Your grip tightens, your hand moves faster and faster and his toes curl. Too much, too much-he can't...it can't, he doesn't want this to be over-

"No!"

His head falls into your neck with a strangled scream as he cums into your hand, staining your jeans and his shirt. You stroke him still to prolong the pleasure, milking him dry of everything he has before he lets out the first whine of protest and you stop.

"Please,"

His breath comes out in rushed pants, his head a jumbled mess of "more, please more-" followed by incoherent babbles and then, finally, "I can go again, wanna...wanna go again. Just...use me, use me however you want." as his hips work still, even if it only works against what he really wants, releasing pained whimpers all the while from the self-inflicted overstimulation.

You smile and he can practically hear it before he's flipped into his back, spread out and pinned against the slightly uncomfortable seats of your car as you press apart his legs, eyes roving over him before beginning to undo your pants.

"Use you, huh baby?"

Yes.

However you want. Use him however you want. That's all he wants. All he's wanted for so long.

The pads of your fingers press against his thigh, too close and he squirms with oversensitivity.

"We'll still be friends after this though right?"

He lets out a noise between a cry and an affirmation, eyes sliding shut as your body presses against his.

"Friends!" He gasps.

Your fingers lace together. You smile.

"But not just friends now are we...?"

a/n: y'all please forgive me if this is absolute bullshit. i feel like i haven't written anything for real in forever and i feel like rusty now lol. but lmk what you think (to possibly give me inspo to write more lol😭)

my taglist is here if you wanna be added: @hobihearteu, @lemonhongjoong, @laylasbunbunny, @xcookiemonsteer, @hahagay, @maru-matt, @d7dream, @amidstnamjin-and-binchanlix,

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enhas-pov · 3 months ago

Text

ghostface

summary: at the beginning of reader beomgyu’s relationship, there was a masked killer on the loose known as “ghostface”. reader started noticing how her boyfriend was never with her when the killings occurred, leaving her to wonder why beomgyu was acting so odd.

warnings: yandere, cursing, knives, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, degrading, kissing, toxic(?), abusive(ish..?), dom!gyu, sub!reader, etc..

word count: 2.7k

note: i was supposed to post this in october for halloween.. sorry :3

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"g-gyu.. too fast!" i yelped, feeling beomgyu’s hand at the back of my head before he buried my face deeper into the pillows as he was pounding into me from the back. he ignored me, using his other hand to grab me by my waist before thrusting into me deeper, harder and faster. the sound of skin slapping filled the room and i could feel him splitting me open with his big cock. i squirmed around uncomfortably which only earned me a harsh slap on my ass cheek from him, "stay fucking still.." he groaned as he threw his head back in pleasure. i shrieked at the stinging pain his slap left on my cheek which was now completely red.

"i-i can’t.." i was barley able to get any words out from being too fucked out on his dick. "f-fuck.. yeah you can. come on baby, t-take it" i could only whimper in response when his fingers dug even deeper into my skin, definitely leaving bruises. he leaned down, pressing his chest against my back which only lead to his member sliding into me even deeper as his tip kissed my cervix. i whined, his lips brushing agsinst my ear before he bit down on my earlobe. "you gonna milk my cock, hm?" he whispered into my ear. "mhm!" i mumbled, repeatedly nodding my head. he kissed my cheek before leaning back, creating a space between us again.

"g-go on then" he grabbed my ass cheeks and spread them apart so he could watch himself sliding in and out of me. i let out a cry once i felt the wave of pleasure crashing over me, my legs starting to shake at the feeling of beomgyu still going and never stopping, "shit.. just like that". my vision started getting blurry at the overstimulation, "b-beomie?-" i suddenly let out a silent scream when he brought his hand to my clit and started circling it. i was so sensitive after my recent orgasm, i couldn’t stop myself from trying to get off his dick. "w’ere you going baby?" he pulled me back with a harsh thrust causing me to let out a mix of moans and cries.

his thrusts only got faster as he got closer to his high, "shit shit shit-" beomgyu groaned just for a second before shooting his sticky load deep into my pussy. "fuck.." his thrusts got sloppier while he painted my walls white with his fluids. i suddenly got this weird feeling that i wasn’t familiar with, "beomgyu.." i mumbled. "hm?" he hummed, still thrusting into me but at a slow pace. "f-feels like im gonna pee.." he cursed under his breath at my words, "let go for me" he said, biting down on his lower lip. i let out a soft moan when clear liquid spurted out of my pussy, beomgyu groaning at the sight. "that’s it baby.. squirt all over my dick"

i was quick to fall asleep after beomgyu and i had sex, and it was during the middle of the night when i woke up to strange noises. "gyu..?" i mumbled tiredly while i rubbed my eyes. "sorry, did i wake you?" when i opened my eyes to look up at him, i saw him fully dressed in all black. "mhm.. are you going somewhere?" something else about beomgyu was that he would leave a lot during the night which i found extremely odd. "yeah but dont worry ‘bout it, ill be back" he approached me, gently grabbing my chin before pressing his lips against mine. after that he simply just walked out, maybe im thinking too much about it. its probably nothing..

i decided not to worry about it and tried going back to sleep, but i was unsuccessful. i sleep better when beomgyu is next to me so i thought that was the problem. i decided to scroll through my phone while waiting for him, and everything was going fine until i came across a news article that had just been released minutes ago. "the infamous serial killer known as ghostface has struck again, claiming a new victim just moments ago. the local authorities reported that the victim, a man in their 20s was found on the side of the street, and the police confirmed the victim had suffered from multiple stab wounds. "we are doing everything we can to keep our community safe" said the detective. we encourage everyone to stay indoors and report any suspicious activity"

wait.. the victim cant be beomgyu right? a man in their 20s got killed just right after he left the house? i felt my heart begin to race as i started panicking, please dont let it be him.. just as i was about to call him i heard the front door opening. i felt relieved knowing beomgyu was alive and had gotten back home safely. i got out from bed and started making my way out of the bedroom, “beomgyu? i was so worried, they said that a man in their 20s got killed by ghostface and-“ i suddenly froze in my tracks at the sight in front of me—the front door wide open with no sign of beomgyu anywhere.

my heart started racing again, i was sure i had locked the door.. unless beomgyu had left it open when he left? shit. my breath sharpened as i pressed my back against the wall, my heart was pounding so loudly i was sure i could hear it. the house was completely silent until i started hearing the sound of the floor creaking, hoping that it was beomgyus footsteps i was listening to. suddenly out of the darkness, a tall figure dressed in all black and wearing a white mask stepped inside through the front door. it was ghostface. his head turned slowly towards me, and i covered my mouth to stop a scream from escaping my throat.

i slowly started moving my body towards the kitchen before i quickly made a run for it. the second i slipped into the kitchen i started looking for a weapon, something to defend myself with. my fingers trembled as i reached for a kitchen knife, clutching onto it as i braced myself. the cold metal pressed tightly against my grip but just as i turned around he was stood right there. ghostface was standing in the doorway, blocking the exit for me. his mask tilted to the side as if he was amused of me trying to defend myself from him. he then stepped forward, the knife in his hand shining under the kitchen light.

"p-please leave me alone!" i pleaded, begging for my life as my voice shook. he didnt respond, only taking slow steps towards me before he finally cornered me against the counter. i brought the knife i was holding out, the tip of it against his chest as i shut my eyes closed and looked away. suddenly, i felt a cold hand run over my thigh and i shivered at his touch. i looked up at ghostface with my teary eyes, still pressing my knife against his chest. he brought the knife he was holding between his fingers before twirling it around, and it only made me even more nervous and scared than i already was. why wasnt he killing me? he slowly brought the knife up to my face, tears starting to fall from my eyes out of fear.

why wasnt i making a move? i had the knife pressed against his chest, i could easily stab him if i wanted to. i just couldnt bring myself to take someones life.. he took the dull end of the knife, dragging it down along the side of my face. i shivered at the cold metal feeling against my skin as he kept on dragging the knife further down until it reached my thigh. i wasnt wearing anything but a pair of panties and beomgyus t-shirt that was thankfully covering my underwear. the knife grazed my skin as he moved it towards my inner thigh, and i felt nothing but scared and disgusted. "s-stop.." i whispered uncomfortably.

ghostface suddenly let out a chuckle—a chuckle that sounded oddly familiar. i froze as my heart skipped a beat. i furrowed my eyebrows at him, it couldnt be.. slowly, he reached up and pulled his mask off, revealing beomgyus face underneath. his messy hair fell over his once-soft eyes that were now darkened, a twisted smile tugging at his lips. "b-beomgyu..?" i lowered the knife i had held against his chest, but he only pressed his deeper into my thigh. i let out a whimper at the feeling of it, "you had no idea it was me, did you? my dumb baby.." he brought his other hand up to my face in an attempt to stroke my cheek, but i flinched and tried moving away from his touch.

he only gripped my chin tightly as he forced me to look him in the eyes. "whats the matter, hm?" he asked, leaning in close until the tip of his nose was touching mine. "y-you’re.. you’re a murderer!" i spat in his face before i attempted to get away from him by moving my body around like an animal, only he grabbed my body with his hands--trying his best to stop me from attempting to get away from him. "you better fucking stop doing that.. i wouldnt want to hurt you" he growled at me, his hands digging into my skin as he tightened his grip on my body. i knew i wasnt gonna be able to get away from him, he was too strong. i stopped fighting, "please.. i dont want to die.." i sobbed as tears began falling down my face again.

i could tell he was fighting back a smile, hes sick.. he brought his hand up to my face and wiped my tears away with his thumb, "what a crybaby.. i wont kill you" he leaned in with his lips close to my ear, "unless you give me a reason to" he chuckled. with his hand still on my cheek, i grabbed a hold of his wrist and dug my teeth into his skin. it definitely caught him off guard, he yelled out in pain as blood started to run down his wrist. i took the opportunity to push him to the side and make a run for it. i ran all the way to the bedroom before locking the door behind me, and just seconds after he started banging on the door. "open the fucking door ___!" he shouted, and i jumped at the sound of his voice.

i started sobbing uncontrollably as i tried to get the window to open, but my hands were shaking too much. there wasnt any other way out and i knew i was fucked when beomgyu started breaking the door down. "b-beomgyu im sorry! im sorry.. please dont h-hurt me, im sorry!" i choked on my own tears as i kept on apologizing, hoping he would have a change of heart. suddenly, he stopped trying to get through the door, "you’re sorry? hm, baby?" he asked me, his voice trembling with rage. "y-yes! im really sorry beomie.. please.." i was begging for my life at this point, praying that my own boyfriend wouldnt kill me.

"its alright.. just open the door for me, yeah?" his voice shifted, turning the sound of his voice from fear into safety. i sniffled, hesitating for a second before i made my way towards the door slowly. i placed my hand on the door knob, "just- dont hurt me please.." i murmured. "i would never hurt you, okay? i love you so much ___, im sorry if i scared you. just open the door and let me make it up to you" he sounded pretty convincing.. maybe he wasnt going to hurt me. maybe he really does love me. "okay.." i mumbled. i turned the door knob, opening the door just a little before taking a peek. beomgyu was stood there without his ghost face mask and no knife in his hand.

he looked at me with pleading eyes, "please let me in" he begged softly. i opened the door fully and decided to let him in. he walked past me after i closed the door behind him, "i didnt mean to hurt you gyu.. i was just scared.." i lowered my head in shame, feeling bad for hurting my boyfriend. "scared of me?" there it was again. the chilling sound of his voice that sent shivers down my spine. i looked up at him, and there he was, smiling creepily down at me. "b-beomgyu.." i backed away slowly until my back hit the bedroom door. i quickly tried reaching for the door knob, but beomgyu grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. i let out a whimper at the way he slammed my hands against the door.

"y-you said you wouldnt hurt me..!" my voice trembled with fear. "i wasnt planning on it.." he said, tilting his head down at me. "but you gave me no choice" he suddenly grabbed my face in his hands, squishing my cheeks together. "you look so pretty when you cry-" he shut his eyes when i spat in his face. he let out a chuckle, letting go of my face to wipe my spit off of his. he looked me dead in the eye as my whole body shook, "fucking bitch" he spat, grabbing a hold of my waist before throwing me onto the bed. i sat up quickly after my back hit the mattress, i backed away until i was sat against the headboard, "get away from me!" i yelled at him, using my legs to kick him away when he attempted to get on top of me.

"why would i ever want to get away from my own girlfriend, hm?" he said, his voice low and possesive as he stood by the edge of the bed, watching my scared figure. "i-im not your girlfriend anymore.." i mumbled. beomgyu’s face dropped instantly, his head tilted just slightly—his eyes turning dark and disturbing. "what’d you say?" he asked, his voice chilling. i didnt feel like repeating myself, only because i didnt want him to get really mad at me.. i shook my head, "nothing.." my voice barley sounded like a whisper. he tried getting on top of me again, and this time when i tried kicking my legs, he only grabbed them and pulled my whole body down towards him.

"s-stop!" i yelled at him, all though he only clamped his hand over my mouth with a force that made me whimper against his hand. "you belong to me. you hear that?!" he shouted in my face, loud enough for me to flinch. when i did nothing but start crying again, he rolled his eyes at me. "i said.." he removed his hand from my mouth and tapped my cheek repeatedly with light slaps. "you hear that?" he repeated, looking me dead in the eye. i nodded slightly, "y-yes.." i hiccuped. he hummed, leaning in and placing small kisses all over my cheek before moving towards my ear, "you’re all mine.." he whispered in my ear before burying his nose in my hair, "you can never leave me.." he mumbled against me.

he leaned away from my hair and leaned against my face instead, the tip of his nose touching mine. "say it." he growled at me. i sniffled, my whole body trembling when he tried pulling me even closer to him. "i-im yours.." i mumbled, my voice shaky. "and?" he raised his eyebrows. "a-and im.. im never gonna leave you, gyu.." my voice sounded tearful as i spoke, and beomgyu noticed. "still scared baby?" he asked, brushing his lips against mine. i shook my head, but the tears falling from my eyes threw it away. "shhh.." he stroked my hair, "let me show you how much i love you.. you were loving it last night"

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