#choi beomgyu fluff

[ttyunverse]

When The Night Comes || Choi Yeonjun

➛Pairing // Choi Yeonjun x fem! reader

➛Word Count // 18.8k

➛Genre // university au, fluff, angst, slice of life, strangers to friends to friends with benefits to lovers.

➛Warnings // // substance use [cigarettes and weed], mental health issues [not directly stated], past trauma, suggestive language, mentions of past abuse, reader has multiple nicknames [petal, blossom], general pet names [sweetheart, gorgeous, etc]

➛Synopsis // And I hope when the night comes, we stay in limbo together, savouring this moment—ignoring the way I can no longer hold you the same under the morning gaze.

In which Choi Yeonjun finds himself entangled with you. Yearning for a deeper connection, Yeonjun has to navigate his feelings while sharing unforgettable moments with you. 

He must confront the question: does love really conquer all or will the shadows of your past prevent him from achieving the happy ending he so desperately seeks?

➛Playlist

adeline's opening ✉ - my first fic ahh >< genuinely can't believe I was able to write something like this. I'd love to thank 3 individuals actually!! @dawngyu for being such a sweetheart to me and was so supportive during the entire process, @yunverie for having the sweetest reactions to the early snippets I gave her and to my wife @just-nc-tea who read it even when it wasn't completed yet :). I love you all so much, thank you <3

I || Whispers of Spring ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

The emergence of Spring reminded Yeonjun of you. After Winter made her exit, Spring began to reveal herself—welcoming the warmth of the sun and the vibrant blooms that burst forth in preparation for her lively sister, Summer. To most, Spring signified renewal and the blossoming of new beginnings—yet to Yeonjun, Spring evoked memories of your first interaction. Like the season you possessed a cool demeanour, yet a touch of warmth remained hidden deep within you, waiting to be revealed. To Yeonjun, Spring marked the beginning of his entanglement with you.

Seeing you for the first time felt like a breath of fresh air.  It was the first year of college and you were sitting on a bench near the quadrangle nursing a cigarette while you listened to Beomgyu, someone he got acquainted with in one of his earlier classes. Your presence was undeniable—despite your intimidating aura, Yeonjun thought you were gorgeous. The way the sunlight caught your eyes, the slight curve of your lips when Beomgyu said something funny, captivated him—your entire being captivated him, like a magnetic pull, drawing Yeonjun in. He couldn't deny his immediate attraction to you. 

Over the years, Yeonjun’s attraction to you blossomed more than he would’ve imagined. Naturally, he and Beomgyu became friends through their shared classes; every mention of you from Beomgyu made his heart leap for joy, his interest in you seemed to deepen with every blurb of information he was told about you. Despite his extroverted nature, Yeonjun always shied away at the idea of talking to you. In a world where everyone wanted to be the Sun, to him, you were the Moon—unreachable, only to be admired from afar.

Your first interaction with Yeonjun remained etched into his being. Amidst the chaos of the party, there you were, clinging to the corner, as if the walls themselves whispered secrets to you. It was the final party of Sophomore year, and despite the drink in your hand, you seemed more sober than tipsy. Even though you appeared nervous, you seemed to maintain a steady conversation with Beomgyu, smiling at his antics.

While all eyes were on him, Yeonjun couldn't help but focus on you. In that moment, the lights reflected on your skin, causing you to illuminate a soft glow almost as if you were the Moon—so close, yet unattainable. Your unapproachable aura always left Yeonjun yearning for more—wanting to explore your secrets, unravel your complexities, yet treat your body as a sacred temple, whispering silent prayers hoping that you might grant him a taste of the salvation you had to offer.

Despite the season, the moment the cold air enveloped you as you stepped onto the balcony, it felt as if Death itself embraced you—a biting cold that seeped into your bones. A cigarette found solace between your lips, dulling Death’s grip on you, allowing you a moment of respite. The first drag was bittersweet—despite the warmth it brought to you, you couldn't help but be reminded of why you hoped to quit in the first place.

The second drag felt tantalizing—tormenting you on the goals you're unable to achieve, reminding you that quitting meant letting go of the only thing that connected you to your past—like a noose around your neck, unable to be free of the comfort the addiction brings you. The third drag was interrupted—Yeonjun, the party’s main guest, enters, glowing, as if he were the Sun itself and you, Icarus, destined to fly too close and be burned.

You’ve seen him around campus before—always surrounded by some form of company, as if he were a flame that drew people in like moths. Known for his charisma and talent, Yeonjun was never a bore—from what Beomgyu told you, he was also a giant sweetheart despite what people may think. In contrast, you found solitude in flowers, the silent messages they conveyed, and the untold stories weaved between their leaves. With each bloom, a message waiting to be relayed.

With a final drag, you crushed the remnants of your cigarette as you turned to face Yeonjun as he approached—his raven-coloured hair cascading along his neck, eyes filled with something akin to wonder, “Is the party too much for you?” he asked.

As you wrapped your arms around yourself, you responded, “Beomgyu drained all the energy out of me.” You paused, glancing away, “I needed to sober up before I decided to leave.” 

“But it’s only 12 am! The party has barely started, Pretty,” Yeonjun pouted, his expression playful.

“Unlike you, I have the social battery of a Plum Blossom. Alcohol can only help me so much,” you replied, ignoring the way the nickname made you uneasy.

“A Plum Blossom?” he asked, surprised.

As heat rushed to your cheeks, you clarified, “The flower. They symbolize loneliness, so to an extent, I like being alone.”

Smirking, Yeonjun leaned in slightly, “Then what flower am I?”

“A sunflower,” you said softly as your gaze fell to the ground, “you’re bright, warm and approachable with loads of energy.” As you turned to leave, you felt embarrassed having shared so much about flowers. Despite this, you looked back to give Yeonjun a non-verbal goodbye, only to find him placing his jacket around your shoulders.

Instantly, his scent surrounds you—grapefruit with undertones of incense and jasmine—pleasant, but not overwhelming. The jacket was a touch too big but like his personality, it immediately warmed you—almost as if it were a talisman, warding off Death’s embrace.

Confusion etched across your features as he smiled sweetly, “An excuse for me to see you again. You’re friends with Gyu, right? So, we’re bound to see each other on campus. I hope to see you soon Blossom,” he added before making his way back on the dance floor as if the entire interaction had been a casual exchange. 

Embarrassingly, you've avoided seeing Yeonjun for a month. Despite your desire to return his jacket, you've steered clear of places you knew he frequented, only staying within the confines of your safe space—the University's greenhouse. Beomgyu teased you about it, relishing the idea of his two friends interacting—you however dreaded the thought of seeing him again. 

It's not that your first interaction with him was terrible: it's just that to you, Yeonjun was the Sun—ethereal and radiant while someone like you, was too broken to be seen with someone like him.

“You know you can't avoid him forever, right?” Beomgyu started one day, leaning against the table as you watered the orchids. “He asked me for you, asking if I'm coming to see you in your little hideout,” he teased.

“It's not a hideout,” you mumbled, focusing on the delicate flowers, “It's just that, he shines so brightly, I don't think I deserve to be in the same space as him, Cookie. He shouldn't waste his time on someone like me.”

Beomgyu sighed, his expression softening, “You're more than worth it, Petal. Don't let your past define you, you're more than that. You shine just as brightly; anyone would be lucky to get to know you.”

You placed the watering can down as tears welled in your eyes. You've known Beomgyu since you both were in elementary school—he's been with you at your worst, from the loss of your brother when you were fifteen to your parents abandoning you at sixteen, leaving you to navigate in a world that moved on too quickly, denying you a chance to grieve. He's witnessed the aftermath of your last relationship, the way that even in his death, your ex haunted you, leaving you shattered.

Giving you a side hug, Beomgyu continued, “I know it's hard, but give him a chance. Yeonjun’s a nice guy. Even if it takes time for you to get close as friends, he'll understand.”

You had really hoped that could be true, but the fear and anxiety wrapped around you, made you hesitate. Deep down, you really wanted to believe things could turn out differently.

Your second interaction made Yeonjun feel alive; nostalgic even—you're with a cigarette again as you sat with Beomgyu, talking. Despite not having seen you in months, Yeonjun couldn't help but think you're even more gorgeous than when he first met you—his feelings resurfacing almost as if it had never truly left.  You were glowing—you seem more animated that day; happy in the bubble you're currently in, laughing at the antics Beomgyu is doing—your rosy cheeks contrasting the chilly weather.

With a newfound sense of confidence, Yeonjun decided to approach you both—hoping his presence doesn’t cause this side of your personality to be stored away again.

“Gyu, hey!” Yeonjun said as he made his way over with his gaze fixed on you. He noticed the surprise in your eyes at his presence and he finds it adorable—the way your smile softened, and your nose scrunched at his arrival made him feel as if he were in heaven. 

“Hey man,” Beomgyu said as he greeted him with a high-five. “You’ve never met Petal, right? She’s like a sister to me, so this is me formally introducing you.” He smiled as he ruffled your hair.

“Nice to meet you Petal," Yeonjun smirked slightly, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

With furrowed brows, you gently pushed Beomgyu as you quietly told Yeonjun your name with a shy smile.

After a brief moment of silence, Beomgyu suddenly jumped up, “I just remembered I had to print an assignment for my next class,” Giving your arm a squeeze, he continued, “Later guys! I'll see you for lunch, Petal!” as he ran off towards the library. 

As you both waved goodbye to Beomgyu, Yeonjun took a seat next to you, his eyes sparkled with anticipation as you handed him a gift bag.

“Your hoodie,” you stated, “and a pressed sunflower, as an apology for taking so long to get it back to you.”

“You didn't have to get me an apology, Blossom,” Yeonjun replied as he took out the pressed sunflower, admiring it—it's beautiful, he thinks. The pressed sunflowers are carefully confined within a picture frame ensuring its beauty is preserved—recalling your first encounter he thinks it's endearing that you gave him one.

“You did this yourself?” he asked, genuinely impressed. 

As you nodded in response, Yeonjun noticed you watching him as he continued to admire your work, sensing the care you put into it.

To others, this may seem like a superficial interaction between two people—but to Yeonjun, this was the beginning of something more. Like a budding flower, this relationship had potential to blossom into something truly beautiful and fulfilling.

Over the next few months, your interactions with Yeonjun became more frequent. He began having lunch with you and Beomgyu more often, even visiting the greenhouse whether Beomgyu was there or not. At first, you were hesitant to open up, your budding relationship destined to remain stunted—with a lack of food it seemed inevitable to fall apart, but Yeonjun's warm smile and genuine interest in your life slowly chipped away at your defences.

At first, it started small—Yeonjun began to join you and Beomgyu in the cafeteria for lunch, a simple action that spoke volumes to you. 

“What's your favourite book?” he asked one day. Evident hesitation on your features left you unsure of how to respond, but Beomgyu chimed in, “Oh, Petal absolutely loves mythology and folklore! Especially stories deeply rooted in romance and symbolism.” As Beomgyu ruffled your hair teasingly, Yeonjun looked at you, his eyes lighting up, “Be sure to tell me about them next time, yeah? Especially your favourite.” With a shy smile and heat rising to your cheeks you nodded as the remainder of lunch fell into a quiet, casual conversation between you three.

In the following weeks, Yeonjun’s visits to the greenhouse became a daily occurrence, often bringing you a coffee or a sweet snack you liked. Some days were quiet, others were filled with sweet conversation between you two—you, explaining the nuances of flower language while he listened intently, admiring the way you carefully tended to each flower.

“I brought these for you today,” Yeonjun said as his eyes sparkled while he entered, handing you a small bouquet of beautifully arranged red chrysanthemums and white roses with a tiny bag of freshly baked cookies. “I'm sure you'll understand the message I'm trying to convey.” Your blush deepened as Yeonjun smiled softly at you, “And the cookies were something Soobin and I made earlier. Wanted to give you some. The cookies taste good though! Even though Soobin helped, I made sure everything was edible in the end,” he smiled cutely as he sat next to you on the bench. You felt a flutter in your chest as you accepted the gift, feeling a sense of gratitude towards him.

The times when the greenhouse was filled with you, Beomgyu and Yeonjun, it became livelier—the flowers embracing the energy that surrounded them. Beomgyu watched from the sidelines as the conversation naturally got quieter, he smiled at the way Yeonjun looked at you, with a look of adoration, unmatched. “I'm glad the two of you are getting along,” he commented, his voice filled with warmth. “It's nice to see my two best friends get along.”

In the confines of the greenhouse—amongst the laughter and quieter moments, it became a safe house—a sanctuary where your blossoming friendship with Yeonjun was nurtured into a young seedling full of life and vigour. The way Yeonjun listened, really listened, made you feel valued—it felt nice to be heard, to be seen, to feel as if you were human like everyone else even if your past tried to tell you otherwise.

And with Spring coming to an end, the vibrant colours surrounding you mirrored the warmth of your connection; as the last petals of the season began to fall, you both stood on the precipice of something beautiful—ready to embrace the Summer of your hearts with open arms.

II || A Glimpse of Heaven ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

The next time Yeonjun saw you, you were at a party again but this time it's the beginning of Autumn—unlike your first meeting.

After the sweltering heat of Summer, Autumn's crisp air made him feel alive—her leaves, painted in hues of auburn and crimson, dancing gently in the breeze, creating a nostalgic atmosphere that somewhat felt romantic, contrasting the solemnity of Winter that steadily approached.

This time, he saw you on the dance floor, which was surprising considering your withdrawn personality—your body language was comfortable, with relaxed shoulders, you swayed with Beomgyu to the music, surrounded by other attendants of the party. Yeonjun was mesmerized. The way you handled yourself even in this moment felt addicting to him—he couldn’t resist staring at you as you sipped on your drink, giggling at something Beomgyu whispered to you over the music before you made direct eye contact with him.

He couldn't help but feel shy as he felt the way heat rushed to his cheeks, still, he waved at you from across the room. In response, your eyes shone with excitement which Yeonjun assumed was due to the alcohol, but he felt giddy at the idea of you being happy to see him.

Despite the moments you shared over the last few months, Yeonjun still wasn't sure on where the relationship was headed. Still staring, Yeonjun saw you whisper something to Beomgyu as you stepped outside, onto the same balcony where you first talked last Spring—and Yeonjun, he couldn't stop himself from following.

As you placed your joint between your lips, you fished for your lighter in your purse—you don’t smoke weed often, the relaxed feeling you got, usually became too much for you—but in this moment is felt like a reward for overcoming Summer and enjoying yourself even if the anxiety remained in the back of your mind. 

Annoyed, you realized you left your lighter home, causing you to cut your celebration short—or so you thought, like last Spring, Yeonjun met you on the balcony again. He had a glow to him, a little different than usual—maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's something else, but whatever it is that made him look like he had the Moon, made him look even more beautiful to you.

“Do you have a light?” You asked. “It seems like I forgot my lighter home and I wanted to celebrate,” you stated, the pout evident in your voice as you gestured to your joint.

Leaning in, you allowed Yeonjun to light the joint—the proximity between you two allowed you to get a whiff of his cologne, this time it's stronger, instead of the jasmine and incense undertones, it's woodier with undertones of sage and pomegranate—its addicting you think, it made Yeonjun even more captivating to you, spellbinding almost. It made you want to ravish him in ways that you rather not explain—despite forming something akin to a friendship, the little moments you shared made you hope for something more. As the THC began to enter your bloodstream, you passed the joint to Yeonjun as smoke filled the air.

“What’s the cause for celebration, Pretty?” Yeonjun asked as he took up the offer on the joint, allowing its warmth to surround him. 

“Just cause,” you stated, as you giggle, the alcohol and weed beginning to take effect, “Anything can be a celebration,” you continued as the joint found its way between your lips again. 

The music in the background set the mood for the conversation between you and Yeonjun—in your own bubble you conversed about celebrations and for once, you felt happy without anxiety eating you up inside.

As the night progressed, Yeonjun invited you to continue the celebration at his place, making you feel giddy inside, being cross faded didn't allow you to overthink the situation. Before leaving with Yeonjun, you made sure to let Beomgyu know of your whereabouts. He doesn't let you go before teasing you a bit, his eyes glimmering with mischief at the thought of the two of you being alone together. 

After taking an Uber, you and Yeonjun arrived at his place. Nervousness bubbled within you, you didn't expect Yeonjun to invite someone like you to his apartment. Settling on the couch, the two began to sober up as music played in the background, its soft melodies mingling with the ambient lighting within the room, setting the mood. 

For the next hour, you conversed about mundane things—you shared stories about the new flower you're tending to while Yeonjun animatedly told you of his love for pottery.

Despite the TV flickering in the background, you couldn't help but notice Yeonjun's gaze lingering on your lips for a moment longer than it should. The way the proximity between you two closed in just slightly, felt electric. Your knees brushing against each other made you feel excited—in your little moment things felt easy, the comfort that surrounded the atmosphere was like no other, wrapping its arms around you, shielding you from the outside world.

“May I kiss you?” Yeonjun whispered, his voice low and filled with longing as he gently twirls a strand of your hair, “It's just that, you’re so addicting; I can't help but want you.” With a mixture of desire and sincerity, his eyes searched for yours—causing your heart to race with excitement and anticipation as the tension thickened.

Not trusting your own voice, you nodded, granting him permission. As his hands found their way on your face, he caressed the apples of your cheeks—glancing at your lips, before locking eyes with you again. With blown-out pupils, he searched for any signs of hesitance from you. Once satisfied, Yeonjun closed the gap—his lips against yours are softer than you expected. The kiss itself was amazing—to you, it felt better than fireworks—it felt as if your souls were intertwined, surrounded by bursts of colours. The way Yeonjun held you sent shivers down your spine—gentle, as if he was scared to break you, yet also scared to lose you.

Running your hands through his hair, you deepened the kiss, feeling more alive than you did before. The moment made you feel giddy, yet anxious, the weed in your systems further amplifying the experience. As you pulled away, laughter bubbled between you, euphoria rushing through your veins. The second kiss is more desperate, as if you were afraid of disappearing from each other's grasp.

Breaking the kiss, your foreheads touched—the only sounds are the TV and music in the background, mixed in with your heavy breathing. “Do you want to continue this upstairs?” Yeonjun asked, his gaze locked onto yours, the unspoken feelings dancing around you.

“I'd love to,” you whispered, almost as if you were afraid of shattering the moment.

“Are you sure?” Concern flickered in his eyes. “We can stop here if you want.”

Leaning in, you pecked his lips softly, smiling as you said, “I've never been more sure about something in my life.”

The morning after was quiet—the early morning light seeped into the room, giving you an undeniable glow. Yeonjun felt as if he’s on top of the world—with you beside him, dressed in his shirt, a gentle reminder of the night you shared. He thought you look beautiful like this, in his clothes—even in your tranquil state, Yeonjun can't help but gaze at you in wonder.

Every aspect of the night before remained in the forefront of his mind. From the moment on the balcony to the conversations in his apartment—Yeonjun couldn't get rid of the grin on his face. The way you smiled at him throughout the night, the way your eyes sparkled with joy as you maintained conversation had him captivated. The moment your lips met, it felt as if the world had faded away—you ignited something within him that Yeonjun didn't know existed, a feeling deep down that made him want to savour every moment with you. He remembered the way your bodies intertwined—the way he lost himself in you, the way he was finally able to worship you. The shared breaths and whispered words, a moment he wished he could inscribe into his very being.

As a cool breeze makes its way into the room, it caused you to unconsciously reach out for him, making his heart leap for joy. With you beside him, Yeonjun believed he could conquer anything. As your body instinctively stayed close to him, he couldn't help but smile, he wondered if you would want more from the relationship—at least, he hoped you did.

Contrary to what people thought on campus, despite his undeniable popularity, Yeonjun was a lover boy at heart. He never indulged in the idea of hookups or meaningless relationships, he always valued something deeper. But when it came to you, Yeonjun felt all logic go out the window—he couldn't help but want to go against his values if it meant he got to stay beside you. He wasn’t sure about your views on relationships, but Yeonjun hoped you’d want something more with him.

Scared that the moment might be ruined, Yeonjun decided to be a bit selfish. Even if it was just for a while, he held you a little closer, fantasizing about the idea of you being together. He wasn't sure what would happen when you woke up, but for now, Yeonjun enjoyed the proximity between you two, the warmth of your skin against his. Without a doubt, he was scared—scared that from this moment on, things wouldn't be the same with you, and his chances of having you might have already slipped away.

Waking up, your nostrils were filled with a pleasant scent of coffee, its rich aroma filling the room. As you gathered your bearings, you rubbed your eyes and sat up. Your body ached pleasantly as you thought of what had occurred between you and Yeonjun the night before—flushing as the memories replayed in your mind. Although you hated to admit it, you had never felt so wanted in your life. You remembered the way Yeonjun’s hands adorned your body—the way he treated you as if you were a sacred item. Even when you told him he could be rougher, Yeonjun couldn't help but be gentle with you, as if you were a gift so delicate it could break—the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he made love to you was something foreign to you, and it scared you. 

In the back of your mind, the words of Josh, your ex, plagued you, reminding you that you were nothing more than a body for men to use. The more you thought of Yeonjun, the louder the voice became—as if it was mocking you for the happiness you so selfishly sought. You hated your ex and the power he still held over you despite being six feet under. The way his rough hands made you feel still haunted you, the way it felt to be a puppet while he was the master—the way he treated you like nothing but a doll, the way—

“Hey, you okay?” Yeonjun asked,  as he peeked his head into the room. He gazed at you softly with concern, “I made us breakfast. I'll give you a sec to freshen up, and you can meet me downstairs.” He left you alone and suddenly your once festering thoughts retreated—afraid to reveal themselves almost as if Yeonjun were their kryptonite.

Breakfast felt suffocating. Yeonjun sat at the kitchen table, the scent of freshly brewed coffee, kimbap, and kimchi pancakes wafting through the air. He glanced at you, seated across from him—your hair dishevelled from the night before, your eyes weary and still in the process of waking up. The sight made his heart flutter despite the awkwardness that swirled in the air.

For once, Yeonjun didn't know how to begin the conversation—the only thought occupying his mind was you.

“Last night…you were amazing,” he began, his voice shaky. “Every moment we spent together, I enjoyed it. Even before this happened, your presence always captivated me. This just made me feel more connected to you.”

Surprise flickered in your eyes, causing you to momentarily choke on your coffee, “Yeah, it was nice,” clearing your throat, trying to make your tone casual, “I think that was the best night I’ve ever had.” Despite your praise, Yeonjun can't help but feel the tension that lay beneath your words.

Taking a deep breath, Yeonjun tried again, “I really like you, Blossom. Like, really like you.” His heart raced, the words tumbled out before he had a chance to think, “I know we've been talking for a while, but I would love to get to know you on a deeper level, if you'll allow me to.”

The surprise was evident in your eyes as you looked up, then it faded into something more guarded, almost scared. “Yeonjun, I—” you hesitated, causing Yeonjun to visibly deflate, the anxiety creeping in as he braced for your response.

“I can't promise you a relationship,” you continued, causing Yeonjun’s stomach to drop, a lump forming in his throat, “But, if you want, we can keep things simple—a friends with benefits arrangement? I promise not to do any sort of written agreement; it's just right now I'd prefer something with no strings attached. I'm sorry.”

Despite Yeonjun's desire for something more, he considered your suggestion. Even though it completely went against his voice on reason, he rather hold on to the physical connection for now than lose you entirely.

Running his hands through his hair, “I can do that,” he replied, even if the words on his tongue felt like a dagger slowly twisting into his heart. “I am giving you full disclosure that I'm still interested in you, not just…this.”

For a moment, your gaze lingered on him, making Yeonjun’s throat tighten. “I appreciate your honesty, Yeonjun. But for right now, I really don't think I can handle something deeper. I'm sorry.”

Nodding, breakfast resumed as if everything was normal. The tense atmosphere still lingered, but it gradually faded into something different—the unspoken understanding hung in the air, words and lingering glances between you and Yeonjun made him feel as if the arrangement would be more than what he bargained for.

Slowly, you fell into conversation, your small smile brightening as you complimented his cooking, “I didn't know you could cook like this Yeonjun! These kimchi pancakes taste amazing.” The way you giggled as if the prior conversation had never occurred, hurt Yeonjun in a way that he's never felt before. Despite the dull ache in his chest, he couldn't help but gaze at you lovingly, forever captivated by your presence.

For once, Yeonjun is grateful that Soobin wasn't home for the weekend. He'd hate having to explain the current state of affairs—not only the tension in their shared apartment but also in his heart. The thought of Soobin questioning him made him shudder.

As you continued to chat, talking about your plans for the day Yeonjun found himself stuck between two worlds; in one world he's with you, a smile adorning you face as you share breakfast and in another he's in his head, hoping that somehow the gods above would grant him grace, and maybe, just maybe this arrangement could lead to something more.

But as he takes a sip of his coffee, its bitter taste reminded him of his reality—with the boundaries you've set, Yeonjun has to thread carefully, balancing his feelings, even if it hurts him in the end. For now, he decides to savour these moments, even if it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

After breakfast, Yeonjun drove you home, the car was filled with a comfortable silence with the soft hum of the radio. As you found yourself lost in thought, you glanced over at Yeonjun, watching the way his eyes shone as he hummed along to the melody—his fingers tapping against the steering wheel, matching the rhythm. You pondered over this morning's events—Yeonjun making you breakfast, the way he expressed his desire for wanting something more, which both excited and scared you. Even in this moment, Yeonjun radiated a warmth like no other, his presence, even in such a serene moment was immaculate. 

As he catched your gaze, he smiled brightly—leaving an unbearable flutter in your chest, reminding you that the arrangement itself is more than you deserve. In the back of your mind, memories of your ex nagged at you—reminding you of the way he belittled you, reducing you to nothing but an object of desire. A relationship built on sand, destined to crumble; he made you feel invisible, your feelings and interests insignificant as it had no bearing on the satisfaction you gave him—leaving you, a hollow shell of your former self.

As Yeonjun pulled into the driveway of your apartment, the engine's soft purr and the tunes from the radio, created a moment of tranquillity. In the passenger seat you watched Yeonjun, drinking in the way the sunlight gave him an undeniable glow. “Thanks for driving me home, Yeonjun, and breakfast. It was amazing,” your voice, feathery, like the air.

Yeonjun turned to face you, his eyes filled with warmth, “It was a pleasure having you, Blossom. I enjoyed having you over,” the softness in his voice spreading warmth throughout your body.

Suddenly, his gaze made you feel shy, a blush creeping up on your cheeks. “I should get going now,” you murmured, fumbling with your seatbelt. “I'm sure Beomgyu is waiting for me.” As you unbuckled, Yeonjun leaned across, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched at the unexpected intimacy. Before you could fully process what happened Yeonjun leaned in, kissing you tenderly.

Despite your surprise, you welcomed the kiss, relishing in the feeling—his hand cradling your chin, pulling you closer while your hands instinctively gripped his shirt.

Pulling away, a playful grin adorned Yeonjun’s face, “I hope to see you soon, Pretty.” 

“See you soon, Yeonjun,” you replied with flushed cheeks as you stepped out of the car, waving goodbye as he drove off.

“Woah, what was that?” A voice called from behind you, pulling you from your thoughts. You turned around, mortified, coming face to face with Beomgyu who leaned casually against your front door, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Gyu! When did you get here?” you exclaimed, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

Beomgyu chuckled, clearly amused, “Sorry to break it to you Petal, but I've been here since Yeonjun drove in. Was wondering when he'd bring you back.” His teasing tone made your cheeks flush even more.

Unable to muster a response, the bag in your hand, once forgotten, suddenly felt heavier. “You know,” Beomgyu teased, leaning in closer, “you can't hide anything from me, right? Especially after that kiss. Let's get you inside,” He said as he took the bag from you, “How about we have some ramyeon and talk about it, yeah?”

Unable to resist ramyeon with Beomgyu, you nodded eagerly. As you made your way next to him, he ruffled your hair, “I can't believe I saw you kissing Choi Yeonjun! Who would've thought?”

You laughed slyly, teasingly pushing Beomgyu as you made your way into the apartment. 

Amidst the laughs echoing within the confines of your apartment, you and Beomgyu settled on the floor, slurping your ramyeon as you recalled the time you spent with Yeonjun, sparing him the explicit details. Moments like these allowed you to cherish your friendship—its warmth wraps around you like a swaddling cloth, reminding you of your appreciation for your best friend.

III || Changing Seasons ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

Like the season, as Autumn progressed, and the air grew colder in preparation for Winter—so did Yeonjun's relationship with you. The start of your arrangement felt shy, filled with fleeting glances and even shyer touches. It felt ironic that you and Yeonjun were shy with each other despite having explored each other before. 

Despite the initial shyness, Yeonjun took you to stargaze one evening—determined to maintain your friendship, even if you have seen each other naked. 

Settling on the soft blanket spread across the grass, the world around you felt idyllic—the evening sky coloured an indigo hue, adorned with the sparkles of countless stars. The moment felt protected, almost as if the gods themselves were watching over you, ensuring your moment of peace.

As you both lied down, you snuggled close to Yeonjun, using his arm as a pillow. It made his heart race—the proximity between you two highlighted your scent, with undertones of lilac and cinnamon, Yeonjun couldn’t help but feel his focus falter, lost in the warmth of your presence. 

“Look at that,” Yeonjun whispered in your ear, pointing upwards. “That's Pisces, the two fishes are swimming in opposite directions.”

“Yeah?” you replied, looking up at him, your eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

“Yeah,” Yeonjun smiled softly, booping your nose as he looked at you. Your laugh in response was light and melodic, reminding him of a choir of angels.

“And over there,” you pointed out this time. “That's Andromeda, right?”

Yeonjun looked down at you smiling, “Yeah, the princess who was saved by Perseus.” For a moment, he paused, contemplating the weight of his next words, “Do you think they're us?” Yeonjun whispered, his voice laced with curiosity.

“Do you save me from a sea monster?” You joked, eyes glimmering with mischief.

“Maybe,” Yeonjun replied, pulling you closer as the air grew serious. “Just like Perseus fought for Andromeda, I'll fight for you. In every lifetime, I'll slay your metaphorical sea monster, once it means I get to have you.”

Instantly, you sat up, looking back at Yeonjun in shock, “Jjun…” you mumbled, tears forming in your eyes, a mix of disbelief and overwhelming emotions. The sincerity behind his declaration caused your heart to swell, hardly believing his words you wondered, could it be true? In every lifetime? The thought fills you with hope but also a flutter of anxiety at the idea of someone wanting you that badly.

Yeonjun brought you back down, allowing you to face each other. “I mean it,” he whispered, even quieter. “In every lifetime, I'd fight for you.” 

The air became thick with unspoken words, the magnetic pull drew you closer together. You felt the warmth radiating from him, the sincerity in his gaze made your heart race. Slowly, you leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a tender, tentative kiss.

You pulled away, breathless, searching his eyes for something more—with a blush adorning your cheeks, you smile shyly, “You really mean that?”

“Every word.” Yeonjun affirmed with confidence and sincerity, “I'd face anything for you.”

Under the twilight sky, it felt as if everything else faded into nothingness and only the two of you remain, lost in each other—the twinkling stars above witness your love, the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

Winter arrived in full force—as she finally settled, claiming her throne, the air felt crisp as she covered the Earth in soft layers of white. As the snowflakes danced with one another in the air, it felt as though they represented the relationship between you and Yeonjun—a transformative moment between you two, where shy touches turned into confident ones.

Snowflakes drifted lazily outside your window, reminding you of the warmth that you yearned for during the season. It was Christmas week, and Beomgyu had been urging you for weeks to come home since his family hadn't seen you for a while. Despite missing them, you decided to spend Christmas alone this year—a solemn feeling settling in as you looked back on the year gone by.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come home this year, Petal?” Beomgyu asked again, his voice glimmering with hope as he got ready to leave. “Mom and dad miss you, even my annoying brother misses seeing your face.” he pouted as he held onto your arm.

Reassuring him you replied, “I’m sure, Cookie. I want you all to enjoy time on your own.” You offered him a small smile, hoping to ease his worries. “I'll be okay. I promise. If it gets too lonely, I'll spend time with Yeonjun.”

Despite his distaste, Beomgyu doesn't push you further—he pulled you into a tight hug, his warmth enveloping you. “I can't believe this is our first Christmas apart. I'll miss you, Petal.”

“I'll miss you too, Cookie. Take care and enjoy Christmas for me,” you said, as you watched him leave.

Closing the door, you thought of ways to decorate the apartment. Even though you didn't feel the Christmas spirit, you began to gather old decorations to get yourself into the holiday mood.

On Christmas Eve, however, Yeonjun messaged you, asking you if he could come over. This year, he decided to spend Christmas on campus, and with Soobin going home this year, he felt a bit lonely. Welcoming the idea of two lonely souls being together for the holidays, Yeonjun was now sitting in your apartment, the two of you cuddling under blankets, watching nostalgic Christmas movies and sipping hot cocoa. The air was thick with the scent of pine and cinnamon creating an atmosphere that almost felt domestic—the way you both eased into each other, as if it has always been that way. As the months went by, your relationship changed, where friends became something deeper, yet neither of you refused to acknowledge the change. 

As midnight arrives, Yeonjun goes to the Christmas tree you had decorated days prior and reached for your gift. He turned to you, eyes sparkling with adoration, warmth and a touch of nervousness, “Merry Christmas, Blossom. It isn't much, but I wanted to get you something that reminded me of our time together.

As he handed you the gift, you admired the way it's wrapped—the care radiating from it. With a shy smile, you slowly unwrapped the present, revealing a delicate gold necklace, adorned with a sunflower and blossom pendant. Reminding you of your first interaction together, tears pricked at your eyes. “It's beautiful,” you breathed, touched by Yeonjun’s thoughtfulness as it showed you how much he valued the relationship you had built thus far.

“Put it on for me?” you asked, smiling cutely at Yeonjun with sparkling eyes. As you handed Yeonjun the necklace and turned around, his hand touched you almost teasingly, as he fastened it around your neck—his hands lingered a moment longer than necessary, but you didn't mind the warmth from his fingertips.

As you turned back around, you reached up to him, giving him a tender kiss. Feeling the way his breath hitched in response, sent a thrill through you. Immediately, he responded to you, pulling you closer—the air thick with unspoken feelings. As he deepened the kiss, it became more passionate, more sensual, more urgent. A soft sigh escaped you as Yeonjun, savoured your taste in the moment, your natural bittersweetness mingling with remnants of the hot cocoa from earlier, creating a unique flavour.

Before things could go further, you pulled away, giggling at the way Yeonjun pouted at you. “Wait, let me give you your gift too!” you said excitedly as you made your way to the tree, picking up a medium sized box adorned with a blue and white bow.

“What is it?” Yeonjun asked, his eyes glimmering with curiosity as you handed him the box.

“Open it, silly!” you giggled, playfully slapping his arm, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling within you.

As Yeonjun opened the box, his eyes seemed to shine brighter than they ever did before. Pulling out a beautifully knitted sweater and matching scarf—its purple and blue yarn interchanging to form a beautiful blend that brings out his complexion, your love felt in every stitch.

“Wow,” he breathed, slipping the sweater on, “You made this?”

Heat slowly crept onto your cheeks, “Yeah! I wanted to make you something you could use. To keep you warm during the Winter,” you replied shyly.

Yeonjun’s expression softened as he wrapped the scarf around himself, “And it's the perfect fit too. Thank you, Blossom. This is the best gift ever; no one has ever made me something like this before. I love it, really.”

With that, Yeonjun leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead, then on your nose, a kiss for each cheek before finally settling on your lips. Unlike the kiss before, this one felt innocent—full of unconditional love, as if Yeonjun was trying to transfer all his feelings into that one kiss. 

He pulled back for a moment, gazing lovingly into your eyes, before holding your face tenderly and kissing you slowly again. As you gripped his sweater, you returned the kiss, hoping your emotions were transferred too. 

As the snow began to fall, the two of you continued to kiss in the middle of your apartment, the glow of the Christmas lights adoring both your features. With love filling the air, you shared an unforgettable Christmas—a moment that showed the blossoming of journey together.

Yeonjun made your apartment his home for the next week—relishing in the domestic moments together, from sharing the same bed to cooking meals together, you and Yeonjun enjoyed your time escaping from the world. Instead of attending a New Year’s Eve party, you both decided to spend the night together—savouring the intimacy that formed between you.

 As the clock inched closer to midnight, you found yourselves on the balcony outside your room, swaying gently to the soft melody in the background. Holding you close, Yeonjun admired you—with the snowflakes adoring your hair and fairy lights from your room, casting a soft glow on your face, he thought you looked ethereal, almost like an angel.

“You're the best thing that happened to me,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence that formed between you.

Looking up at him, your eyes wide with disbelief, “How so?” 

“It's just that…ever since I met you, I've never felt more alive. I feel like I can finally breathe.” Yeonjun paused, looking down at you, gauging your reaction. You seem content in the moment, staying close to him as you continued to sway. “You make me feel alive. Every moment I spend with you, I cherish. Almost as if I'm afraid to lose you,” he admitted embarrassment colouring his cheeks.

You stopped swaying, your gaze locking onto his, your eyes melancholic, “You won’t lose me Jjun. I promise.”

A sad smile tugged at Yeonjun’s lips as he hoped to believe you. Yet, in the back of his mind, a mocking voice reminded him that it was only an arrangement—nothing more, nothing less. Ignoring it, Yeonjun focused on the warmth of the moment, determined to live in the present.

As the countdown played softly from the TV in your room, you and Yeonjun picked up your wine glasses, excitement bubbling between you as you joined the countdown, gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Ten…nine…eight…” With each number, the anticipation grew and once the countdown reached zero, Yeonjun immediately pulled you into a sweet kiss, his glass resting forgotten on the table beside you.

“Happy New Year, Blossom,” he murmured against your lips, voice thick with emotion. 

Pulling back slowly, you rest your drink next to him before you shyly pecked his lips, “Happy New Year, Sunflower. Thank you for starting the new year with me.”

Laughing softly, Yeonjun responded, “Of course, there’s no one else I'd rather spend New Year’s with than you.”

In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the lights and the gentle snowfall, the weight of the world felt momentarily lifted. No one knew what the future held, but despite the uncertainty, you had each other, and for now, that was enough. 

For the remainder of Winter break, Yeonjun was able to encourage you to spend it at his apartment.

Currently, you both were in the kitchen, the soft hum of holiday music filling the air—the countertops were dusted with flour and sugar, a sweet scent of vanilla and orange in the atmosphere, enticing you—a perfect way to end the holiday celebrations. 

As you measured the ingredients, putting it in the bowl, Yeonjun ensured he preheated the oven correctly—he glanced at you for a moment, drinking in the way you were, adorned in one of his hoodies and sweatpants, your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as you glanced between the recipe and the bowl. Your hair was pulled back in a messy bun, a few strands fell delicately in your face as you ensured you were following the correct steps. Even in this moment, something so simple, Yeonjun thought you're the most beautiful being ever. 

“How’s little miss baker going?” Yeonjun teased as he hugged you from behind.

“Good!” you replied, as you tried to look up at him, “I just have to mix the batter.”

“Let me help you with that,” Yeonjun said, as he held your hand. Mixing the batter together—the warmth between your bodies merged together, the simple moment, feeling intimate between you both. Once the batter was thoroughly mixed, Yeonjun poured the batter in the pan, deciding to give you a gentle kiss as he placed it in the oven.

Moments like these Yeonjun cherished the most, while he loved the passionate moments when you were under him, the domestic nature of these innocently intimate moments felt like a drug—addicting, with no chances of sobriety.

Once the cake finished baking and cooled, you and Yeonjun moved to the counter to ice it. The scent of the freshly baked good filled the air, as you both prepared to decorate your creation. As you spread a generous layer of frosting, your tongue peeked out in concentration as you focussed intently—grabbing another spatula caused a dollop of icing to land on the corner of your mouth. Yeonjun couldn't help but chuckle. Glancing at you, he pointed playfully. “You have something there, Blossom,” a teasing smile on his lips as he gestured to the corner of your lips . With raised eyebrows, you reached up to wipe it away, but before you could, Yeonjun stepped closer, his gaze locking with yours, “Let me help you with that,” he murmured, his voice low and inviting.

Without waiting for a response, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss, the sweetness of the icing lingering between you, igniting the moment into something more—something passionate. Yeonjun’s hands cupped your face, tilting your head slightly upwards as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against your lips, asking for permission. 

With the parting of your lips, you allowed him to slip inside, a rush of warmth and arousal flooded between you—the cake long forgotten as the world around you began to fade away, leaving only the taste of the frosting as you found yourselves lost in each other.

Yeonjun’s heart raced as you leaned into him, feeling the heat radiating from your body—his hands travelled from your face down to your waist, where he pulled you closer as your hands travelled through his hair, slightly tugging. In that moment, nothing else mattered, it was just the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of sweetness and desire.

“Hey, are you two—” Soobin’s voice trailed off, his eyes widening in surprise as he took in the scene before him. A half-decorated cake sat forgotten on the counter, icing smeared across the table, and the two of you quickly pulled away—cheeks flushed, your lips glistening with remnants of frosting, a sweet testament to the kiss you just shared. You exchanged a glance, filled with a mix of embarrassment and amusement, the moment charged with an undeniable spark that remained lingering in the air.

Soobin blinked, processing the scene before him before bursting into awkward laughter. “Didn't mean to interrupt your, uh…baking session,” he teased. A playful grin spread across his face as he watched your cheeks deepen in colour and Yeonjun with a smug smile on his face.

“Yeah,” Yeonjun grinned, clearing his throat, “We were just, uh, tasting the frosting, you know, quality control.”

Soobin, raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced but amused, “More like tasting each other.”

“Sorry you had to see that, Soobin,” you squeaked out as the embarrassment slowly washes away. “Do you want to help us finish frost the cake? I promise all taste testing is over.”

Yeonjun laughed as Soobin accepted your invitation, grabbing a spare spatula. The earlier embarrassment faded, replaced by the warm laughter of you three as you attempted to decorate the cake.

You don't interact with Soobin much, but in the moments that you do, you cherish the quiet friendship between you both—he reminds you of your departed brother, the way he quietly looked after you, his steady presence bringing comfort to your life. 

As you three admired your chaotic masterpiece—a lopsided snowman adoring the top of the cake, an attempt at a winter wonderland—you couldn't help but laugh at the delightful mess you made.

Amidst the chaos, you settled down enjoying your cake while watching nostalgic holiday movies.

“This is definitely the best cake I’ve ever seen,” Soobin joked, earning a playful nudge from Yeonjun.

Surrounded by this chaotic, sweet moment you realized this is exactly what you needed—a reminder that love and friendship can coexist beautifully, having you thankful for your formed friendships—a beautiful end to winter break indeed.

With Spring’s return, you are reminded of your first interaction with Yeonjun—on the balcony of a random party, there you were, two unlikely souls who formed an unseemly connection. Now, life without him seemed dull—like the flower he represents, Yeonjun had brightened your life in ways you never thought possible. Choi Yeonjun became the air you breathe, a deeply engraved part of you. Looking back on your time together you feel alive—like you've never felt before, grateful for the man you've met.

At the start of the season, you decided to take Yeonjun to a flower arrangement class. Within the flower shop, the scent of fresh blooms delightfully filled the air, everyone in their own world as they received guidance from the instructor. You remembered how you made arrangements for each other—Yeonjun gifting you baby's breath and lilies while you chose carnations and tulips for him. Both arrangements perfectly made to fit the vases you crafted for each other in a previous pottery class. Although they weren't perfect, the vases were filled with character and love, serving as a constant reminder of the time you've shared.

“Hey, are you two dating by chance?” a participant asked you, glancing at the way you and Yeonjun conversed.

Surprised, you quickly glanced at Yeonjun, who was busy fixing his arrangement. “No, just friends!” you replied, perhaps a bit too quickly.

“Well, from the way he looks at you, Sweetheart, that man is totally in love with you. I hope you don't let him go.” As the participant turned back to their arrangement, you looked back at Yeonjun.

“What was that about?” he asks curiously.

“Nothing,” you brushed off casually. “She just said our arrangements were pretty.”

As the class continued that day, you found yourself staring at Yeonjun more than before, wondering of the way he looked at you. But for now, you savoured the moment—enjoying the way his arrangement brightened your apartment in its vase, reminding you of him every time you looked at it.

With the progression of Spring, your birthday dawned, bringing with it a sense of renewal and hope. You stirred awake to the soft sound of singing, fluttering your eyes open, you saw Beomgyu walking in, a big smile on his face as he carried a tray in his hands.

“Happy Birthday, Petal,” Beomgyu sang softly as he rested the tray on your nightstand—the aroma of seaweed soup and the assortment of side dishes, waking you up pleasantly.

As he ruffled your hair playfully, you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Thank you, Cookie,” you replied, giving him a small hug.

Growing up, you hated your birthday, it being a painful reminder of the loss you suffered—a reminder of those who abandoned you, but with Beomgyu by your side, he and his family embraced you as their own, ensuring you enjoyed your birthday regardless. For the remainder of your morning, you and Beomgyu enjoyed breakfast in bed, sharing laughter and reminiscing on the moments you spent together. After a while you video called his parents who, despite being away, wanted to celebrate with you. A familiar warmth filled you as you enjoy the remainder of your morning with your best friend and his family, thankful for the love they gave you.

“Thanks for breakfast, Gyu, and for always celebrating my birthday with me. You mean a lot to me, I hope you know that.” You said sincerely as you both made your way downstairs.

“Of course,” Beomgyu grinned, “I wouldn't have it any other way. I hope you look forward to tonight!” he teased, winking at you.

“Tonight?” you say confused. 

Once you make your way down, Beomgyu handed you a flat velvety-black box, mischief glimmering in his eyes, “Open it.” Opening the box, revealed a note, which said,

To my World,

Happy Birthday Blossom!

I hope you love this surprise! I wanted to get you a special outfit for tonight. I think it would look amazing on you, something to make you feel as beautiful and confident as you truly are.

Reservation is at 8. Can't wait to see you tonight!

Love, 

Your Sunflower, Yeonjun.

With disbelief in your eyes, you set the note down gently before turning your attention to the box, pulling out the most breathtaking dress ever created by man. The fabric felt luxurious and soft against your fingertips, its silhouette destined to hug your curves in all the right places while cascading gracefully to the floor. Its colour was deep and rich—a beautiful shade that complemented your skin tone beautifully.

“He sure knows how to make a girl feel special, huh?” Beomgyu, commented as he observed your reaction. Wordlessly, you nod, rendered speechless. Then, you reached for the heels nestled beside the dress. Their design was one of a kind, a stunning blend of elegance and allure—sleek and sophisticated, their graceful arch that would elongate your leg just enough while adding an air of confidence to your stride. The shoes were not just an accessory, but a statement piece, elevating the outfit and making you feel empowered.

“You knew about this?” You asked Beomgyu as you looked up, your eyes filled with amazement. 

“Maybe,” he teased. “Needed to help him get your perfect size.” 

You playfully swatted Beomgyu’s arm, “Gyu, what the fuck? I’m genuinely at a loss for words.”

Ruffling your hair, Beomgyu chuckled, “I hope you enjoy your night, Petal.”

The evening couldn't come soon enough. As you added the final touches to your outfit, you admired yourself in the mirror. The dress adorned your body beautifully, the silhouette hugging your curves perfectly, accentuating your waist as it flowed gracefully to the floor. The neckline’s elegant cut revealed enough skin to feel alluring while leaving the rest to the imagination. The slit that went up to your thigh allowed the heel to peek through, adding a hint of playful sexiness. 

Your makeup was perfectly understated,  enhancing your features while making you look even more irresistible. Finally, the necklace Yeonjun gave you last Christmas felt like the perfect finishing touch—the way its delicate chain rests against your collarbone, completing the look entirely. 

With one final twirl in front the mirror, you applied your perfume—amber and vanilla, swirling together creating an intoxicating scent that lingered. Grabbing your purse, you make your way downstairs, excitedly waiting for Yeonjun's arrival.

“Woah! You look amazing,” Beomgyu commented, his eyes wide with admiration. “Yeonjun will absolutely love it.”

“You think so?” you asked nervously, your heart racing at the thought of Yeonjun seeing you like this. The weight of the evening hung in the air—despite you and Yeonjun being in each other's company for a year, this felt different, and you couldn't help but wonder what tonight might bring.

Before Beomgyu could answer, the doorbell rang, its chime feeling louder than usual, almost as if it was mimicking your nervousness. “That’s him!” Beomgyu grinned as he made his way to the door.

As Yeonjun’s silhouette was revealed, you couldn’t help but gasp softly at his appearance. Adorned in a simple black suit—his hair was styled slicked back, exposing his forehead—an unexpected but striking look for him, different to his usual, everyday style. The slight exposure of his chest housed a simple chain, while various rings and a few bracelets decorated his hands, adding a touch of flair to the entire ordeal. 

In one hand, Yeonjun held a bouquet of red roses, an addicting aroma filled the air as their sweet scent mixed with his musky perfume. When he looked at you, the world seemed to stand still. You didn't see it before, but in this moment, you finally recognized the way Yeonjun looked at you—as if his eyes penetrated your very soul. He looked at you as if you're the only woman on Earth—as if no one else existed. Finally, you saw the depth of his feelings, the way he looked at you with so much love both excited and scared you.

“Roses, for the most beautiful girl in the world,” Yeonjun said, as he stepped into the room and handed you the bouquet. “Happy birthday, Gorgeous. You look absolutely divine.”

With a gentle kiss on the forehead, Yeonjun took a step back and looked at you again, his eyes filled with an undeniable admiration. Smiling shyly, you replaced the old flowers in your vase with the newly received roses, their vibrant petals standing out beautifully against the soft glow of the candles. Before you both leave, Beomgyu excitedly brought his camera out, taking out a few pictures to commemorate the memory, encouraging you both to stand close, like a proud dad. 

As you made your way to the restaurant, you couldn't help but focus on the way Yeonjun’s hand felt against your thigh, his slightly calloused hands gripped you softly, sending a rush of warmth through you, while the other confidently steered the wheel.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked Yeonjun, your voice unusually shy.

“You.” he says, gripping your thigh a little tighter. His simple admittance rendered you speechless, leaving you aroused. As you pulled into the restaurant's parking lot, the only thing you could focus on was Yeonjun and the way he ignited a desire within you, one that can only be quenched by feeling his body against yours. Thinking of the way he peppered kisses along your skin under the moonlight, the warmth of his breath that sent shivers down your spine—the thought left you unfocused—in anticipation of what the rest of the night might have to offer.

The soft lighting illuminated the restaurant creating an intimate atmosphere, perfect for the occasion. As the night progressed, you both enjoyed a delightful dinner—one filled with laughter and reminiscent stories of the time you spent together, a circumstance you never expected to be in. 

When the special birthday dessert was brought out at Yeonjun’s request, he eagerly took his phone to capture the moment. The dessert, a beautiful, deconstructed cheesecake, topped with rose petals and fresh strawberry pieces, looks almost too divine to eat. As you smiled softly, the light from the candle faintly reflected in your eyes, making you look even more alive in the moment. 

Reaching into his pocket, Yeonjun pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped box—your heart racing as he placed it in front of you. “Happy birthday again, Darling,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

Unwrapping the gift, you revealed a small framed picture of your time spent under the stars last Autumn and a delicate silver chain. Attached to it was a pendant of Perseus’ constellation—something so simple, yet powerful. 

“A reminder of our time,” Yeonjun started, shyly showing you his hand. It's decorated with a matching bracelet with a pendant of Andromeda attached. “I really meant what I said then. I’d face anything for you.

You couldn’t help but feel a wave of love and gratitude wash over you, knowing that this night was one you would cherish forever.

The night ended within the confines of Yeonjun’s bedroom—with your dress on the floor and his hands feverishly exploring your body, tracing over your curves. Each touch sent a wave of electricity coursing through you. Wrapped in each other, you lost track of time—with a touch, gentle and possessive, you arch into Yeonjun, craving more of him. The kisses, nothing short of passionate, ignited that fire within you as you made love to each other.

While the rest of the world slept, you found solace in your intimate space, rediscovering not only each other’s bodies but also the depths of your unspoken feelings that lingered in the air. The warmth of his skin against yours as he held you close, whispering sweet nothings—creating a cocoon of intimacy and love.

Its night of passion, a suitable end to a wonderful birthday, indeed—leaving you both breathless, yearning for more.

The Summer before senior year crashed in like a wave, washing over you with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty—the sunny days and vibrant colours Summer brought with her filled you with anticipation for the season ahead. For the first time in a while, you and Yeonjun were spending some time apart, each returning to your respective homes for a bit. Despite not wanting to be separated, they did say that absence makes the heart grow fonder—the saying filled you with hope, excitement coursing through your veins as you looked forward to being reunited with Yeonjun.

Even though thoughts of Yeonjun plagued your mind, you enjoyed your time back in Daegu with Beomgyu. His parents and brother welcomed you both back in open arms, almost as if you hadn't left in the first place. They ensured you've had your fill of the local cuisine before going back to Seoul in August, showering you in affection and home-cooked meals, reminding you of how much you missed familial warmth. 

Beomgyu’s mom fussed over you, exclaiming that you've lost too much weight as she fed you generous plates of food. While his dad pinched your cheek lovingly asking if any boys were bothering you. It takes everything in you to not trample Beomgyu as he quickly mentioned Yeonjun—leaving his dad to lecture you on the importance of being a responsible adult.

Moments like these made you miss home. After they took you in and treated you as their own, you've always been grateful for their presence and the way they treated you as their daughter. Even the moments where Beomgyu and his brother teased you about Yeonjun filled you with joy. It felt oddly nice having two brothers tease you about boys—it allowed you to forget your family history, even for a moment. You don't mind it, as you felt truly happy with your found family.

As you sat in the living room one afternoon, everyone was doing their own thing while basking in each other’s presence. Your phone buzzed with Yeonjun’s name popping up as he video called you, a smile spread across your face as you answered, delighted to see and hear him.

“Hi Blossom!” Yeonjun beamed, his eyes lighting up as he saw you, “I miss you.” His admission left you flustered, “I miss you too, Jjun,” you smiled shyly. “How’s everything with your parents?” you asked, getting comfortable on the couch.

The conversation flowed easily as you shared stories about your time apart. You told him about all the home-cooked meals you had while he told you about the places he visited with his parents.

Suddenly, you heard a voice from off-screen, “Yeonjun, who are you talking to?” His mom said as she appeared on screen, her voice warm and curious. As he said your name, her eyes shine in recognition, “Blossom” she exclaims, smiling softly, “Jjunie, told me so much about you! You’re even prettier than he says!”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, embarrassed, “Thank you Mrs. Choi! I see where Yeonjun gets his looks from.”

Yeonjun’s mum gushed over your response, turning to him with a proud smile. “You've met such a sweet girl, Jjunie!”

As your chat continued, you glanced over at Beomgyu’s parents, who were watching you with knowing smiles. A sense of belonging washed over you, feeling glad to have received the warmth from Yeonjun’s family—it left you looking even more forward to being reunited with him.

Going back to Seoul felt bittersweet—after being under the care of Beomgyu’s family for the last month, it felt nice to let go of the worries of life, if only for a moment. 

Even though you were glad to be back as it meant reuniting with Yeonjun, you couldn't help but wish to go on another getaway—somewhere sunny and serene, where you could relax under the sun, with the pleasant sea breeze brushing against your skin.

As you made your way into your apartment, Beomgyu looked at you with excitement.

“What?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“It's nothing,” he shrugged, resting his luggage down with a grin. “Just excited to see your reaction.”

You gave him a weird look. “To what?”

Beomgyu remained silent, his eyes sparkling with mischief as you headed upstairs. As you stood outside your bedroom door, Beomgyu leaned against the wall looking at you, he seemed to be more excited than before. You couldn't help but feel nervous as you wondered what lied beyond your door. The sight that greeted you left you utterly shocked. There, sitting on your bed, was Yeonjun, a wide smile spread across his features.

“Yeonjun?! What the fuck? I thought you were coming back to campus till next week?” you exclaimed, enveloping him in a tight hug.

Yeonjun laughed, the sound warm and familiar as he embraced you, lifting you off the ground for a moment. “We have plans, Blossom.”

“Plans?” You said as you took a step back, admiring Yeonjun for a moment. Despite the short time away, his hair is a bit longer and he had a glow to him that felt more confident than.

He took a deep breath, “I actually planned a trip for us to Jeju Island. We leave in a few hours.” His voice getting a bit softer, “I know how much you love the Summer and enjoying the beach. And I know you've never been before. I just wanted to have that new experience with you before senior year started. You deserve it.”

His words left you in shock, emotions overwhelmed you. Tears welled up in your eyes, “Oh my God, Yeonjun…” you whispered, your voice trembling. “How did you manage all this?”

Taken aback by your tears, Yeonjun wiped them away slowly, “Don't cry, Pretty.” A sheepish smile formed on his face, “My parents covered the cost actually. They knew how much I wanted to take you somewhere special and actually offered to pay for us. They were really excited for us to have this experience together.”

“Thank you Jjunie,’ you mumbled as you began to cry more, “no one has ever done this for me.” 

“Do you like your surprise, Petal?” Beomgyu piped up, smirking.

You turn to him, eyes wide in disbelief. “You knew all this time?”

Beomgyu laughed softly, “I helped plan the trip. You deserve to enjoy yourself.”

A wave of gratitude washed over you—you couldn't help but laugh through your tears. The sheer realization that Yeonjun had put in so much effort to surprise you filled you with warmth, but it also scared you yet you were determined to make long-lasting memories.

And with that, you and Yeonjun embarked on your journey, hearts full of excitement and anticipation for the adventures that awaited you. The moment the plane arrived on Jeju Island; you were overflowing with excitement—overwhelmed with all the possibilities that lied ahead.

When you arrived at your accommodation, you were rendered speechless—it was a quaint little cottage hidden among the lush greenery overlooking one of the island’s many beaches. The warmth in its atmosphere makes it feel like a home away from home—with a beautiful exterior, adorned with wooden beams, the inside is even more breathtaking, leaving you in wonder; the inclusion of a skylight in the bedroom makes the place even more cozy than it did before.

“This place is beautiful,” you said to Yeonjun as you took it all in.

Yeonjun grinned, pleased with your reaction, “I thought you’d like it,” he pulled you close, “let’s rest a bit before we head out again, yeah?”

Your days in Jeju were nothing short of magical, filled with breathtaking views and cherished moments. While Yeonjun ensured to take you to known places such as the Hallasan National Park and the Cheonjiyeon Waterfall, he also ensured you enjoyed the quieter moments—taking a day trip to Biyangdo Island was one of those moments that left you captivated. The small uninhabited island left for a day filled with hiking and exploring, a moment you would never forget.

As the sun began to set on your last day in Jeju, the sky transformed into a breathtaking canvas as if it were painted with orange and red hues, casting a warm glow over the island. Your evening began with a lovely dinner at a local restaurant—as many other moments you've shared together, you and Yeonjun were in your own world, making idle chit chat as you savoured each other’s presence. 

Followed by a walk along the beach near your cottage, you both enjoy the feeling of the sand between your toes as the ocean sang quiet hums to you with its waves—the moon, casting a silvery light over the water with the cool breeze creating a romantic atmosphere. Pulling out a pair of wired headphones, Yeonjun handed you one side as soft melodies began to play. As he held you close, you both swayed to its rhythm—losing yourselves in each other as the world melted into nothingness.

With a sweet kiss, your night concluded in the bedroom—as Yeonjun had you under the stars, your body glowed softly in the moonlight, only the melodious sounds of your breaths mingling together were heard. With every kiss, the connection deepened, somehow becoming more intimate than before—your heart full as Yeonjun looked at you in adoration, worshiping your body as if it were his last chance at salvation.

Resting his forehead against yours, Yeonjun confessed softly, “I love you,” his voice thick with emotion. The confession pierced your heart in a way you never felt before—as if all your fears and doubts began to rise to the surface, making it unable to breathe. 

“Yeonjun…” you breathed, your voice trembling as tears began to spill over. The intensity of the moment left you overwhelmed, every insecurity you had felt more seen—leaving you exposed.

Cupping your face softly, his thumbs brushed away your tears that fell. “You don’t have to say it back,” he murmured, his eyes understanding. “I just wanted to let you know that I am truly and utterly in love with you.” As Yeonjun kissed you softly, your salty tears mixed in the kiss and you continued to cry, unable to contain your emotions. With each gentle kiss you shared, your heart ached more as the weight of his confession became more real with each passing second.

“Please don’t cry,” he murmured tenderly between kisses. “I’m here, I’ve got you. It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.” Yeonjun’s thumbs continuously wiped away your tears which only seemed to flow harder.

As your final night in Jeju Island came to an end, time seemed to stand still as the stars above witnessed your love. Unspoken words created a tension that lingered in the air. This transformative moment became a pivotal point in your relationship—both terrifying and exhilarating; only time will tell whether the outcome led to joy or heartbreak. The salt and sweet mingling on your lips as you shared a final kiss that night filled you with unease—the feeling haunted you as you drifted into a restless sleep, shadows of doubt weaving through your dreams.

IV || Love Is Like A Cigarette…Quick To Burn Out ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

Autumn felt colder than before—her reappearance felt like a mockery, a reminder of what once was. You found yourselves intertwined beneath the covers each night—his warmth, a bittersweet testimony to the love that still lingered as you slowly felt yourself slipping away. The fragility of each shared breath hung in the air like a whispered secret—an unspoken acknowledgment of the growing distance.

As you lay beside Yeonjun, the shadowy hands of doubt made their return, pleased to reacquaint themselves with you—finding their way back around your neck, tightening their grip, reminding you of why your fears lingered.

“Please. Don’t look at me like you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Like what?” he asked softly.

“Like you want to kiss me,” you replied, averting your eyes as tears welled up in your eyes.

Yeonjun reached out, his hand brushing against yours sent shivers down your spine. Hurt flashed across his face as you flinched at his touch. “Please,” you begged, “just…don't kiss me.” As you cried yourself to sleep, Yeonjun held you tenderly—whispering sweet words of reassurance, hoping to alleviate your fears.

Ever since the confession, your dependency on cigarettes seemed to increase tenfold—unable to let go of your source of divine relief. Each inhale felt like a desperate attempt to fill the void inside you while each exhale felt like a mocking reminder of the scars Josh had left behind.

Josh's cycle of abuse was an intricate web of manipulation, woven with such precision that it left you trapped and helpless. It started slow; he first reeled you in with a whirlwind of affection—his words and actions sweet, leaving you feeling intoxicated, invigorated, desperately wanting more. But as he ensnared you in his tapestry of lies, his personality shifted. The once sweet Josh became your worst nightmare; berating you, blaming you for the way your life turned out. His sweet words turned into knives, leaving deep cuts in you that left you questioning your worth. 

Every time he claimed you as his own, it felt like a twisted blend of passion and possession—the once intimate moments morphed into something darker. Each caress, a reminder that your body was his, only meant to fuel his desires. The aftermath always left you hollow, like a mere shell of your former self—your body desperately begging to be free. 

At those times, he became withdrawn, leaving you to pick up your broken pieces—his warmth replaced by a chilling cold, one that settled in the corners of your mind. Inevitably, he would return, charming as he once was, offering a tender-hearted apology and sweet lies, pulling you back into the same destructive cycle. Each time you forgave him, you hoped for change, only to find yourself more deeply entangled in your ultimate demise. 

Despite severing your ties, the cycle continued to haunt the forefront of your mind. As you closed your eyes each night, you relived the haunting memories of your past—sleep becoming a battleground of destruction. As the nightmares faded and reality embraced you—you found Yeonjun lying beside you, his concerned gaze meeting yours as tears fell from your eyes. You sank deeper into him, whispering that you were okay, desperately hoping that would be the case.

Yeonjun didn’t know what to do—he was at a standstill in his life, unable to make his next decision. Ever since you returned from your trip to Jeju Island, things had shifted. It started small, with the way you avoided his gaze, a subtle action that tore his soul apart. Then it transitioned to you avoiding his kisses, something Yeonjun never expected. His breaking point came when he noticed how you flinched at his touch and cried in your sleep—holding onto him as if you were afraid he'd disappear. Yeonjun loved you, but he feared this arrangement was now hurting you both more than it should. 

Yeonjun stood outside Soobin’s room, riddled with anxiety as he contemplated the conversation he was about to have. He wanted to ask Beomgyu for advice, but he decided against it, thinking it was unfair to put him in such a position.

Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself before softly knocking in the door. “Hey, Soobin. Can I come in?” he called out.

“Yeah!” Soobin replied, his tone light.

As Yeonjun entered, he saw Soobin sprawled out on his bed, phone in hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he sat up, “You look like you have a lot on your mind.”

Smiling sheepishly, Yeonjun rubbed the back of his neck. “It's about Blossom, actually.”

Soobin sat up a bit straighter, his expression shifted to one of concern. “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“Remember when we took that trip to Jeju in the Summer?” Yeonjun asked.

Soobin nodded slowly in understanding. “Yeah…you guys had a wonderful time, right?”

Nodding, Yeonjun continued, “Yeah, but I sort of confessed to her?”

A deadpan expression formed on Soobin's face. “You…confessed. Aren't you dating her?” 

Yeonjun felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. “Well…no, we're not.”

Soobin's eyes widened in shock. “Wait, what? You two were kissing in our kitchen last winter and you aren't dating?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun responded, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “We just had an arrangement. No strings attached.”

Looking more shocked than before Soobin says, “Why don't you explain everything to me? From the beginning.”

Yeonjun recounted to Soobin the story of his entanglement with you, from your first meeting to the night you slept together, detailing every moment that led up to this one.

“Honestly,” Soobin started, “I think it's best you step back. For both your sakes. It's clearly taking a toll on you both and it isn't worth it that you both are hurting in your own way. You love each other, anyone would be stupid enough to think otherwise. I know she hasn't said it, but she looks at you with so much love, Yeonjun.” Clearing his throat he continued, “Just give her the space to work things out on her own. It will hurt, but she'll come back to you once she's gathered her thoughts. She's clearly going through something deeper, so have some patience with her, yeah?”

With a nod, Yeonjun hugged Soobin, grateful for having a friend like him during times like this. This newfound perspective guided Yeonjun on the path he had to take—he didn't want to, but if it meant you slowly got to heal from your unspoken trauma, he would do anything to save you from that.

The cool evening air wrapped around you as you sat on the balcony of your room—with a cigarette in hand you're listening to Beomgyu beside you, his eyes full of worry as he talked to you. You saw his lips moving, eyebrows furrowed yet you couldn't hear him—it was as if you and your body were disconnected.

The world around you felt blurred, the once vibrant colours, fading into a muted palette. It felt as if you were a spectator in your own life, watching the scene unfold, nodding absently to Beomgyu. As you inhaled the last remnants of your cigarette, you felt yourself fading back into reality.

“...And I'm just worried about you, Petal. These days you don't seem like you're present in reality. I just want you to talk to me, please. I just want to help you,” Beomgyu said as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I can't lose my best friend. Not again,” he added softly.

You watched Beomgyu with sad eyes, feeling the weight of his concern. “I'm sorry, Cookie. I…I don't know where to start. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay. Just tell me what happened,” he urged, his voice quivering, “you've been smoking so much more lately. I'm worried.”

“Yeonjun confessed,” you said, biting your lips. “During our last night in Jeju, and it kind of just freaked me out? Ever since Josh happened six years ago, I just don't feel worthy?”

Beomgyu looked at you earnestly, his steady gaze urging you to continue. “It's just that, my mind convinces me that I'm destined to be in a perpetual cycle of abuse and…” Your voice breaks, tears welled in your eyes, “...And I don't think I'm deserving of the love Yeonjun’s willing to give.” Wiping your eyes, you continued, “Ever since the nightmares resurfaced, I keep seeing his face and reliving moments and it scares me. I'm terrified of slipping back into that space.” 

Beomgyu’s expression softened, “I get that, Petal. But hanging onto the past isn't going to help you or Yeonjun. You both will get hurt in the end. You need to let it go.”

“I'm scared, Gyu. Not of letting go but facing what comes after.”

Beomgyu rested a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “We’ll be here to support you, you know that, Petal. It'll be okay,” he smiled softly. “Just give yourself some space and gather your thoughts. Then talk to him, shutting him out won't help either of you. He loves you, he'll understand and want to help.”

You sighed softly as the weight of his words settled in your heart. “Okay,” you whispered, “time to let go.”

The weather was overcast, almost as if it mirrored your mood, or was mocking you—either way, you didn't like the feeling. Yeonjun asked to meet you at your apartment that day and it filled you with dread. It wasn't like his usual messages or spontaneous visits—this felt different, as if the air was thick with an impending change.

To ease your nerves while you waited for Yeonjun, you smoked three cigarettes, each one making you feel worse than the last. Nothing seemed to help extinguish the turmoil inside you.

As you contemplated lighting another, the doorbell rang, disrupting your spiralling thoughts. Your heart raced, anticipation and dread coursing through your veins as you prepared yourself to open the door.

Opening it, you found Yeonjun standing there but unlike his usual lively appearance, today, he looked exhausted—the dark circles under slightly bloodshot eyes were evidence that he hadn't been sleeping well—the sight made your heart ache.

Closing the door behind you, you glanced at Yeonjun again with sorrowful eyes. “Yeonjun…are you okay?” you asked, your voice, barely above a whisper, fear knotting in your stomach at the thought of his answer.

“I'm sorry,” he began, his voice heavy with emotion, “I don't think this arrangement can continue. I'm too in love with you and too selfish.” Yeonjun paused, running his hands through his hair in frustration, “I desperately want more, and I don't want to ask you for more than you're willing to give.”

As the rain began to fall softly, each drop mirrored the emotions swirling between you in this very moment. Yeonjun stepped closer, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mix of heartbreak and desperation. 

“Just this once,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the patter of the rain, “I know you've been avoiding kissing me lately, but just this once,” he begged, his voice breaking, “let me kiss you one last time before I end this.”

The desperation in Yeonjun’s voice is evident—it broke you knowing that you're the one that caused him to be like this. Despite your hesitation and racing heart, the weight of his words pulled you in. As he leaned in, the world around you faded into nothingness—the final kiss is sweet and sorrowful, mixed with desperation, the moment feeling suspended in time. As the rain begins to fall harder, your clothes become soaked but the warmth from Yeonjun lips makes the chill forgettable.

The kiss deepened, hot and cold, salty and sweet; mixing with your tears and his—as his hands cradled your face gently, his thumb brushing away your stray tears that mixed with the incoming raindrops.

“Please,” he murmured against your lips, saying your name softly, “just let me have this.”

The urgency in his voice spoke volumes, all his unspoken feelings poured out into this single moment. Pulling you closer, as a final desperate grasp, the world around you seemed to blur further, the rain, swaddling you, shielding you from everything else.

As you both pulled away, tears streamed down your faces—breathless and trembling, the reality of the situation crashed in. The sheer vulnerability in his eyes broke you more than you had hope. It almost felt as if his gaze mirrored your own pain.

“Yeonjun I—”

“Don't,” he interrupted softly, almost begging. He placed his forehead against yours, “Just let me be selfish one last time.”

With a final kiss, Yeonjun wiped your remaining tears, whispered an “I love you” and made his way to his car, where he left you, standing in the rain.

Everything then came crashing down on you as he left. You felt your strength fade away, suddenly you're on the floor—glancing at Yeonjun’s figure became smaller as he drove away. The feeling of his lips haunting you as you began to sob uncontrollably. You knew it was your fault the things turned out this way, unable to give him more. Yeonjun made the decision for you, preventing the inevitable. It shouldn't hurt, since it was something you needed; it shouldn't feel like this—but you couldn't help it since you were so utterly in love with Choi Yeonjun.

Going back into the apartment you felt numb, like a piece of you left with Yeonjun. Part of you knew this was necessary, best for both parties—yet a small part of you hoped to stay in your current arrangement, ignoring the unspoken feelings. Beomgyu looked at you as you entered the living room, shocked at your appearance—soaked, with tears streaming down your face.

“Are you okay? What happened?” He asked as he fetched a towel, gently drying your hair, then wrapping it around you.

“It's Yeonjun,” you mumbled quietly, your tears slowly subsiding. “He ended the arrangement. Which is fine, I just didn't expect it to hurt so much.”

Beomgyu looked at you with empathy, “I know it hurts, but you knew you needed this. It's okay to feel sad about it. You loved him even if you didn't say it out loud.”

“Yeah…I do love him” you admitted quietly, “I think I want to start therapy. I want to get better—not just for myself, but for Yeonjun as well. Once I get through the beginning of that journey, I'll reach out to him again.”

“That's more like it, Petal,” Beomgyu encouraged softly, “Let's get you upstairs and I'll run you a warm bath, yeah?”

Despite the heartbreaking moment, you understood what had to be done. Now, it was time to embark on your journey of letting go—letting go of the past that haunted you and embracing the present. You knew it would be hard initially, but you were determined to be better, determined to reclaim the life you once lost.

For once in his life, Yeonjun absolutely hated himself. He knew he should feel relief—relief that he let you go, not because he wanted to but because he needed to. Yet still, there seemed to be a you-shaped hole in his chest, which had a hollowness more profound than any heartbreak he ever felt. The void reeked of you, memories of your laughter, your warmth, your presence—now replaced by an unbearable silence that was almost deafening.

After what felt like forever, Yeonjun stopped at the park near his apartment—today it was quiet, usually filled with the laughter of innocent children—the air remained still, deadly still. As the sun began to set, the park felt tranquil, almost as if it empathized with him. With the rain finally passing, the orange and red hues adorn the sky and even in this moment, Yeonjun’s first thought was you—he thought you'd love the sight before him, your eyes would light up in delight, wanting to take a picture to savour the moment.

As if his body moved on autopilot, Yeonjun walked to the nearest convenience store. In front of him was a cigarette display with various brands—unconsciously he picked up your favourite brand and a lighter, paying for them and settling on some swings within the park. Yeonjun didn't smoke often, but in this moment, he craved some kind of proximity with you, something to keep him grounded, something to fill the hollow feeling inside.

As Yeonjun lit the cigarette, the flame flickered in the dimming light, taking a drag, the smoke filled his lungs—the warmth contrasting the chill air as the evening came. 

Momentarily, the hollowness receded, but as he exhaled, the feeling rushed back in, somehow worse than before. With each drag, Yeonjun felt more reminiscent than before. He recalled the moments during the arrangement, the way you mentioned that you liked having a black coffee, a croissant and a cigarette for breakfast—something about wanting to feel like a girl in Paris. He chuckled sadly at the memory, even though in the moment he was stressed about your lack of a nutritionally balanced breakfast. 

He remembered the way your body felt against his, how every intimate moment you shared felt like matching puzzle pieces, your body immediately reacted to him as if you were made for each other. He recalled the way you looked at him, with so much love shining in your eyes, and the way you kissed him as if each one might be your last.

“Why did it have to be this way?” he whispered, the only response being the wind rustling through the leaves. A bitter chuckle escaped him as he took another drag, “God,” he sighed, “I love you so much. I wish I didn't have to do it, but I couldn't just have an arrangement with you anymore.” Yeonjun continued, speaking to the universe, hoping that somehow you could hear him in the confines of your apartment. 

With a final drag, the smoke swirled around him, flickering the ash from his cigarette—he watched it fall to the ground, like the remnants of your relationship. Despite the emptiness of the park, memories of your time together lingered in the air, haunting him.

Leaving the pack of cigarettes on the swing, Yeonjun made his way to his car, the weight of your absence more present than before. As he drove back to his apartment, he knew the hole you left would take time to heal, but for right now, he listened to the playlist you made together, living through the moments for one last time as familiar melodies washed over him, each note a bitter reminder of what once was.

Arriving home, Yeonjun felt a lingering sadness. The decision to give you space weighed heavily on his heart. Remembering the way you cried those nights haunted him, the sound of your sobs as you held onto him were heartbreaking. He knew you needed space to sort out the problems you haven't mentioned even if you didn't openly admit it. He loved you and this was the only thing he thought of doing to help you.

“Soobin,” Yeonjun began, his voice low, “I finally let her go.” The admission lifted a weight off his shoulders, but the pain still lingered. “It hurts more than I expected.”

“It's normal to feel that way,” Soobin reassured him. “You love her and giving her the space is best for both of you. She'll come back when she's ready, I know it.”

Yeonjun nodded, consoled by the idea that you would come back, better than you did before.

As quick as Autumn came, so did she leave—leaving behind soon-to-be distant memories, each day served as a reminder of what was lost. With the days getting shorter and the nights growing colder, Yeonjun hoped you were on the path to a better place—like the changing seasons he hoped you were becoming stronger, no longer a slave to your haunting past.

V || Ashes and Second Chances ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

The first snow of Winter came quietly in the beginning of December—unlike her previous arrivals, this year her snow quietly blanketed the Earth like a mother nursing her child. You haven't spoken to Yeonjun since your last conversation two months ago but sometimes he sent you messages encouraging you to eat and take care of yourself. You didn't have the heart to respond just yet, but his messages filled you with hope. It felt nice knowing that he still cared even though you weren't on speaking terms—each message a reminder that the bond was still there, despite the distance.

You started therapy the same week Yeonjun left, a daunting but necessary decision. The first few sessions of therapy felt suffocating at first—almost as if you were scared to admit what was wrong. But once you got over that hurdle, things became easier—your therapist encouraged you to confront your past so that you could take a hold of your future. 

Within that safe space of the therapy room, you were taught ways to cope with the cycle of manipulation you had gone through without relying on your cigarettes. As the ties to your past slowly became severed, you developed a love for painting. Each brushstroke became a form of expression for the words you were unable to convey. 

As winter settled in, you felt a growing pain to properly move on from your past—a persistent discomfort that gnawed at you.

Thus, you found yourself at a gravesite during the harsh Daegu winter, determined to make amends. Your first visit was to your brother—you hadn't visited his grave when you returned to Daegu last summer, so you decided to have a conversation with him, sharing your journey.

The cemetery was serene, the snowflakes danced around you as you walked toward a familiar headstone. Sitting down in front of the grave, you placed a bouquet of blue forget-me-nots.

“Hey, big brother,” you whispered quietly. “I miss you. I'm sorry I didn't visit you last Summer.” You took a breath, feeling the weight of your emotions. “I've been trying to get better. I started therapy and I'm learning to cope with everything,” You smiled sadly and continued, “I broke up with Josh too, I know how much you hated him when we first started dating back then. I'm sorry, I should've listened to you.” You recalled all the memories you spent with Yeonjun, “I met someone new,” you laughed quietly, “you would've loved him. He's special to me but I messed up.” Tears began to fall from your eyes, “I promised myself to quit smoking too. It's been hard going through the withdrawals, but I'm getting better.” You took a moment to collect yourself, wiping the tears that fell, “I promise to be better—not just for myself, but for Yeonjun too. I want to be someone he can be proud of, someone who can love without fear.”

Standing up, you took one last look at the grave, “I miss you so much and I wish you were here. I promise to be better so you can be proud of your little sister, okay? I love you.”

You walked away from your brother's grave feeling a sense of warmth filled you as if a weight had been lifted, but there was one more conversation you had to have—one that had been long overdue.

As you stood in front of Josh's grave you no longer felt anxiety and fear washing over only that of anger. You took a deep breath, allowing the cold air to fill your lungs, “You took so much from me,” you began, voice rising slowly. “You took my sense of self and trust. You made me feel like I was never good enough and I let you. I let you control me for so long even when you're dead and gone and I'm done.”

Gently, you rested a bouquet of black roses at the base of the headstone. “I'm here to say my final goodbye. I'm here to reclaim my life.” You take out your last cigarette from the pack, now, a symbol of your past, placing it on the grave as a final offering. “This is my last one. You loved it when I smoked but I'm no longer letting any aspect of you take control over me.” With a steady voice, you declared, “I'm letting this go and I'm letting you go too. I hope you know how much I hate you.”

As you walked away you felt lighter, relieved that it was over, but also relieved that the shackles of your past no longer had a hold on you. The cold Winter now felt like a moment of transformation—as you made your way back to Seoul, hope filled you as you were ready to embrace the life you were finally reclaiming.

Winter felt colder to Yeonjun this year—the lack of your warm presence beside him became a constant reminder of the void that settled in his heart. Despite the ache, he knew it was for the betterment of your relationship. Occasionally, he sent you a message, a word or two of encouragement—a part of him hoped you would respond. He was thankful that Beomgyu always gave him an update on your wellbeing, letting him know you were getting the help you needed.

During your time apart, Yeonjun found himself visiting places you had been together. One morning he visited the greenhouse before he went to the café, admiring the way you always took care of the flowers there. He saw the sunflowers and plum blossoms next to each other in bloom and stared at them in wonder—recalling the day you decided to place them together, cutely saying, “They're us,” as you smiled softly at him. From that moment on, your relationship blossomed with every waking moment you spent together.

At the café you frequented together, he had a croissant and coffee, another attempt at feeling closer to you. The combination of the bitter coffee and flaky pastry only served to be another painful reminder of the laughs you shared over breakfast—the way you would lean across the table, your eyes bright with excitement as you stole a strawberry from his plate. Yeonjun missed those days dearly.

In the middle of winter, Yeonjun found himself staring at the night sky, watching the constellations of Perseus and Andromeda together. He remembered that night all too well, the way you pointed Andromeda out, the way your eyes filled with wonder as he recalled the story. Yeonjun fell in love with you that night—from that moment on he knew he would fight for you in every lifetime. 

He wondered if you were okay—praying to the gods above that your past would no longer haunt you and you could finally take control of your life. The memories, although painful at times, had a comforting warmth that contrasted the stillness of Winter leaving Yeonjun holding onto faith—faith that your relationship would be okay, like the changing seasons, your love had the power to endure and flourish even in the harshest of winters.

Ever since you visited Daegu weeks ago, life has felt brighter—for once you felt like you were able to breathe on your own without any shadows or voices tormenting you. 

Sometimes the nightmares still lingered, but they occurred less frequently than they did before—something you were absolutely grateful for. Therapy had been beneficial as well; after understanding how your abuse affected you, the road to recovery wasn't a terrible journey.

Your sobriety journey from nicotine was a different story. Aside from the typical cravings after withdrawals, the increased irritability and insomnia you faced stressed you out. After Mrs. Kim, your therapist recommended Nicotine Anonymous (NicA), things became easier, especially since Beomgyu came with you, providing you with the extra support that you needed. The meetings made you feel seen as people understood your struggles while Beomgyu’s reassuring presence reminded you that you weren't alone.

With the festive season approaching, you felt a growing desire to reach out to Yeonjun—to give him the explanation that he deserved and to apologize for the distance that had grown between you. You decided to get him a special gift—something that signified the moments you shared and what he meant to you.

A chain, adorned with both of your birthstones along with a painting you did of your time together in Jeju. A landscape painting of the day you spent on Biyangdo Island—on top of its peak, both of you smiling as with the surrounding ocean and nearby islands in the background—truly one of your happiest days there.

You knew Yeonjun would've been alone again this Christmas. Not wanting him to spend it alone, you gathered your courage and with a bouquet of apology flowers and his gifts, you made your way to his apartment. 

As you stood in front of his apartment you took a deep breath, reminding yourself of the progress you had made. You were no longer living in the past, letting a gripping fear dictate your actions—now you lived in the present, ready to embrace what life had to offer. With the gifts tucked under your arm, you quietly knocked on the door, heart racing, hoping that this would be the beginning of a new chapter for both of you—one filled with promise of brighter days ahead.

As Christmas approached, the world around Yeonjun transformed into a wonderful winter wonderland. Yet, despite the festive atmosphere, a heaviness settled in Yeonjun's heart as he yearned for you, hoping that somehow, he was granted a Christmas miracle, and you would greet him at his door.

Despite not knowing when you would talk again, Yeonjun wrote letters for you, one for each season since you've met, each detailing the different ways he fell deeper in love with you—testament to the memories you shared, little things about you that made you unique.

Alongside the letters, Yeonjun made a homemade scrapbook, each page filled with photos you took together and surprise ones he took just of you—each with a little note highlighting his favourite thing from that memory. He included snapshots of places you had visited, menus from your favourite restaurant and even pressed flowers that reminded him of you. Each page was adorned with quotes and song lyrics that reminded of you—their words encapsulating the love he had for you.

His doorbell rang Christmas morning, his heart raced as he prayed it was you and when he finally opened the door Yeonjun smiled, his heart racing—there you are standing, in all your glory, looking brighter than before. 

“Merry Christmas, Yeonjun,” you said as you smiled softly at him, “Can I come inside?”

As you stepped inside, Yeonjun embraced you tightly, “Merry Christmas, Blossom,” he murmured against your hair, his voice thick with emotion, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Yeonjun,” you said lightly as you laughed, hugging him back tightly as the familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, a scent you missed. “I’m sorry it took me so long to come back.”

Yeonjun pulled away, his expression serious, “You don’t have to apologize, Sweetheart. How has everything been going?”

Taking a deep breath, you gave Yeonjun the apology flowers, feeling the weight of your past for a moment, “It was hard at first. To let go. But therapy helped me confront my past and it no longer haunts me. Now, I've started to understand how it shaped me, and I’ve finally taken control of my life.” As you explained to him the details of your last relationship and how it left you, Yeonjun’s fists tightened, angry at the idea that you've been through something like that.

“I’m proud of you,” he said softly as he cupped your cheek, “It takes a lot of courage to go through that and still face the past. You’re stronger than you think.”

You continued to give him details of your therapy sessions, your new love for painting and even mention how your NicA sessions helped with your sobriety.

“Thank you for being patient with me. For letting me go when you did, it really helped push me towards the right direction.”

“Always,” he promised, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “I'll always fight for you.”

“I actually got you some presents,” you said with a shy smile, gesturing to the gifts you brought with you. 

Yeonjun's eyes lit up, “I got you some presents too! Let me get them then we can exchange gifts.”

As you sat together, Yeonjun slowly unwrapped your presents. His eyes shining as he admired the chain you got him.

“A reminder that we’re always together, even if we are physically apart,” you said, shyly.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek, “I love it, Blossom,” he said with adoration as he put on the chain. “I'll cherish it forever.” As Yeonjun unwrapped your second gift he gasps, looking at you in shock. “You painted this?!” he exclaimed in amazement.

“Yeah!” you say excitedly, matching his energy. “Once I realized my love for painting, I was determined to paint one of my favourite moments.”

“It's beautiful,” Yeonjun said softly, “It’s definitely getting framed and hanging up in my room.”

The atmosphere that surrounded you both was light—the soft glow of the Christmas lights illuminating the room left you feeling excited and nervous as Yeonjun handed you his gifts. 

As you pulled out the stack of letters, your heart swelled—each letter adorned with a different seasonal motif. With trembling fingers, you read each letter, tears welled in your eyes—with each season since you've met, Yeonjun highlights the moments in which he fell deeper in love with you. From your laughter in the spring to the warmth of your hand in his during the summer nights—to the cozy moments together in autumn and the quiet times during the winter evenings, each highlighted moment cherishing every little thing about you.

“Yeonjun…” Your voice broke. “I can't believe you wrote all this for me. These are incredible.”

He smiled softly, his eyes shining with warmth, “I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. With every season I felt more hopelessly in love with you.”

As you set the letters aside, you turned your attention to the scrapbook—each page was a beautiful collage of your time together, from photos of you laughing to menus from your favourite restaurant, each page was filled with  Yeonjun’s thoughts and even more things we loved about you.

“I didn't even know you took some of these,” you laughed softly as you flipped through the scrapbook.

“I wanted you to see yourself from my eyes.” Yeonjun said softly, wiping the tears that fell from your eyes, “To understand just how beautiful you are, not just on the outside, but also in the way you radiate kindness and strength, lighting up the darkest days. You’re incredible, Blossom.”

The weight of Yeonjun’s words hung in the air, his hands still against your cheeks—gazing at you with unconditional love.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, his voice filled with longing and tenderness.

With a racing heart, you nodded. As he closed the distance between you, the sweet kiss transcends the heavens, filled with all the love and longing that had built up over the time apart—you both savoured the moment, tasting the sweetness of reunion after so much uncertainty.

Your hands find their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss—reality dimming, leaving you two, suspended in a perfect moment. As you pulled away, you're both breathless and smiling. “Yeonjun,” you began, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. “There's something I need to tell you.”

He looked at you, eyes twinkling with curiosity, “What is it?”

“I love you, Yeonjun.” you said proudly, “I’ve loved you for a long time, and I just needed you to know.”

With a radiant smile on his face, Yeonjun laughs softly, “I love you too, Blossom. More than I can express.” 

As Yeonjun kissed you, his warmth enveloped you, reminding you that relationships are like the changing seasons—despite the warmth they bring, they often have the coldest winters. Just as flowers bloom in spring after enduring harsh conditions, so does love flourish after facing trials and tribulations, growing stronger and more vibrant with each passing season. 

Together, you and Yeonjun would be okay—with each season, you would endure what came, hand in hand, knowing that your love had the power to conquer all storms and shine through even the darkest of days.

Epilogue || Seasons of Us ٠ ࣪⭑ˎˊ˗

It's been a year since that fateful kiss, and as Spring returned, Yeonjun was once again reminded of you. With your past no longer haunting you, he had watched you blossom to your full potential, radiating like a Plum Blossom in full bloom—your vibrant spirit surrounding the atmosphere in all its glory. He marvels at the way you've fully embraced life, proud that you have surpassed your struggles. 

The seasons, once a memory of Yeonjun’s entanglement with you, has now transformed into cherished memories of your time together. Now, he's able to hold you the same under the morning gaze—no longer stuck in limbo, Yeonjun is now able to live the rest of his life with you. The last year has been transformative for you both—having graduated and moved in together, you and Yeonjun were now ready to embark on another part of your journey. 

Together, you stepped into the world, eager to embrace every moment, every season and every challenge that came your way. Together, you would continue to bloom. 

Taglist.ᐟ – @yunverie, @filmnings, @yeonjunnnielover, @just-nc-tea, @iluvjjunie, @fancypeacepersona, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @bunniwords, @lostgirlyystuff, @beomgyusluver, @beaabz

adeline's closing ✉ - if you've made it to the end, I thank you for reading!! I'd also love to know which moment was your favourite, I'd love to hear your thoughts :] mine was the kiss in the rain!

[cbeargyu]

fOoL fOr YoU

beomgyu’s been in love with you since you were kids — even when you had your heart set on someone else. but he's just a fool for you.

pairing: childhood friend(?)!beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, one-sided love (but no really), high school au-uni au, unspoken feelings, first love energy, beomgyu simp, slow burn (slooow fr), second chances in soft light, beomgyu soft guy, fool for you by zayn = emotional backbone.

warnings: emotional angst, mention of unrequited love, a stolen kiss (consensual vibes unclear, followed by regret and confrontation), light jealousy, childhood heartbreak, healing arc included, soft cry-potential.

w/c: 7,2k

notes: hi!! thank you for reading this story, it means the world ♡ english isn’t my first language, so i hope you can forgive any grammar mistakes or weird phrasing — i’m still learning! i just wanted to share a soft, emotional story about loving someone for a long time… and being brave enough to tell them.

you met choi beomgyu when you were six.

he had braces and messy hair, and the loudest voice in the classroom. you were the quietest one in the back row, always too shy to speak, too nervous to raise your hand. but he found his way to you on the second day of school, sat beside you, and never left after that.

“you don’t have to talk,” he once whispered, sliding his lunch tray next to yours. “i’ll talk for both of us.”

and he did. for years.

you were always beside him—his little shadow. he dragged you into games, made excuses for your silences, defended you when someone called you weird. he was everything you weren’t: vibrant, chaotic, fearless. and in his whirlwind, you found a kind of safety. it was easier not to speak when someone was already speaking for you.

sometimes he even called you “my mini manager” because you always carried tissues, band-aids, or whatever he forgot to bring. and sometimes you called him “too much” when he danced in the rain or shouted your name across the hallway just to see you roll your eyes.

you didn't know when he fell in love with you.

maybe it was the day you held his hand after he scraped his knee, or the time you cried during a school play and he wiped your tears with his sleeve. maybe it was the time you laughed—really laughed—until your shoulders shook and your eyes disappeared into your cheeks, and he thought you were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

he loved you in silence. he loved you in your quietest days, in your loudest ones. and he loved you when you started to pull away.

because that’s what happened, right?

somewhere between growing up and growing apart, you changed. you stopped waiting for him after class. you stopped answering his messages as quickly. you stopped sitting next to him during lunch.

you started focusing on your grades, on your future, on building a world where you didn’t need anyone to speak for you. not even him.

and beomgyu... he didn’t know how to follow you there.

you never told him why. you just slipped away—slowly, gently, but completely. and he didn’t stop you. he couldn’t.

he tried forgetting you. dated girls who laughed too loud, girls who wore your perfume, girls who were nothing like you and everything like you. he smiled in their selfies, whispered things in their ears, but none of it mattered.

because none of them were you.

"this love is tainted... but i need you..." he’d play that line on repeat in his room at night. headphones on. lights off. a lump in his throat he couldn’t swallow.

"i’d move the earth, but only if you’d promise me you’re mine..."

he would’ve given you everything. but you were already gone.

and you? maybe you felt it. that quiet ache between you. that tension in the hallway when your eyes met. maybe there was a flicker of something, once. or maybe you just never looked back.

but for beomgyu, you were still the same girl who once held his hand and promised to sit beside him forever.

and no matter how many girls kissed him, no matter how wide he smiled— you were the only one he saw.

you were sixteen now.

last year of high school.

supposedly the year to collect memories, make decisions, fall in love... but you had done none of those things.

not that you cared.

you sighed when you saw kang taehyun—he looked handsome even when he was lost staring out the window. his foot tapped nervously on the floor, and just then, your eyes met. blood rushed to your cheeks and you quickly bowed, but almost tripped forward in the process. taehyun blinked in surprise at the sudden movement but didn’t say a word. he didn’t even flinch.

behind you, you heard choi beomgyu’s distinct laugh. of course, he was laughing at you. you clenched your fists in irritation.

beomgyu smirked arrogantly and walked into the classroom where taehyun was. you muttered a few curses under your breath, just loud enough for beomgyu to catch them. he laughed even louder, clearly amused. nothing in the world seemed to bother him—sometimes you wondered how you’d managed to put up with him all these years. after all, you’d known him since elementary school.

you had always been close. then, halfway through your second year, kang taehyun transferred into your lives—a shy boy with a soft voice and eyes that avoided yours. beomgyu was the first to speak to him, naturally. but the first time you saw taehyun, something clicked. your heart stuttered. since that moment, he became your silent crush.

unfortunately, your quiet nature, paired with taehyun’s shy behavior around girls, meant you never had the chance to get close to him the way beomgyu did. you often wondered how beomgyu made friends so easily, how he seemed to shine in every room, while you barely had anyone in your own class.

“lee y/n, someone’s looking for you!” called na jaemin from the doorway, one of your classmates. you turned your head instinctively—and there stood your older brother, lee juyeon.

“you forgot your breakfast. again,” he scolded softly, handing you a paper bag. you scratched the back of your head and looked up at him.

“mom worries about you, you know that, right? don’t make her sad, okay?” you nodded, feeling a little embarrassed.

“yo, juyeon!” beomgyu’s voice—forever annoying to your ears—rang out. he slapped your shoulder and bumped fists with your brother. “did y/nnie forget her breakfast again?” he asked, pouting in mock concern. juyeon chuckled, but you rolled your eyes.

“hey, beomgyu. yeah, she did,” juyeon laughed, then waved goodbye to both of you and walked off. you harshly brushed beomgyu’s hand off your shoulder and walked down the hallway without a word.

“free period’s almost over,” he reminded you, still standing where you’d left him.

“fine,” you replied flatly, not even glancing at him.

“fine,” he repeated in a teasing tone, falling into step beside you.

“don’t follow me, choi. i’m going to the bathroom.” you shot him a cold look, but he only shrugged and kept walking beside you anyway.

once you reached the restroom, you didn’t ask him to wait or say anything—you just walked in and disappeared behind the door.

you sighed deeply, overwhelmed. how long were you going to keep lying to yourself? maybe... maybe it was time to ask beomgyu to help you get closer to taehyun. but you just didn’t have the courage. you were sure he knew about your feelings. and yet... he’d never said anything.

at least you were good at hiding them. nobody ever teased you about it.

“beomgyu! say hi to taehyun from jinri!” a girl’s voice rang out from outside the restroom, and you froze in place in front of the mirror.

“oh, i will!” beomgyu laughed.

“hyejong, don’t yell!” another girl’s high-pitched voice joined in.

“why not? aren’t you happy you’re finally dating him?” your heart sank. you barely whispered an ‘oh’ and felt a sudden hollowness in your stomach. a lump formed in your throat.

so this is what heartbreak felt like. but why hadn’t you noticed it before? since when had taehyun been seeing someone? and who was that girl?

“you two are so shy, it’s adorable,” one of them giggled as beomgyu pinched her cheeks. “i hope you guys last long, you look so cute together.” you heard their footsteps fade. and suddenly... you felt betrayed. was she really better for him than you?

you stepped out of the restroom at last, your expression unreadable. beomgyu had just put his phone away and looked like he was about to say something, but you cut him off with a low, shaky voice.

“since when has taehyun been dating that girl?”

beomgyu paused, caught off guard by your question. he stayed silent for a moment. he knew. he knew how you felt. but taehyun... he didn’t feel the same.

a week had passed since you found out about taehyun’s relationship with jinri. the confirmation hit harder than the whispers ever did. unlike you, jinri was everything soft and easy to love—pretty in that gentle, unthreatening way, always smiling, always speaking just enough. she was younger, too. of course she was.

you hadn’t said a word about it to anyone. not to your classmates, not to your brother, and definitely not to beomgyu. you just... let it settle. like a bitter taste at the back of your throat you couldn’t spit out.

across the schoolyard, beomgyu watched you from his classroom window.

you looked so small, sitting alone on that bench, arms crossed tightly, face blank. but he knew you. he knew that blank look meant you were swallowing too much. the same way you always had—quiet and distant, like your silence would protect you from the ache in your chest.

he clenched his jaw. maybe taehyun never noticed you. maybe jinri had the smile and the laugh and the shine. but beomgyu had been there since your scraped knees and clumsy braids. he had loved you through all your seasons. and it still wasn’t enough.

"i'd move across the world for you," he thought bitterly. "but you wouldn’t even look sideways for me."

he tried—he tried so hard to play it cool, to let you come to him, to make you laugh again. but he was growing tired of being invisible in your world. a fool for you. always had been.

and yet, the part of him that still hoped—that still remembered the way you clung to him when you were little, how you used to hide behind his back when you were scared—wanted to scream. wanted to shake you out of that self-imposed exile and say, i’m here. it’s me. it’s always been me.

he exhaled sharply, the sound sharp in the silence of the classroom. you hadn’t moved from that bench, hadn’t even looked at the time. he narrowed his eyes. if he didn’t say something, you were definitely going to miss class.

he opened the window, not caring that the hallway was full of students now.

“yah, lee y/n! class is starting! don’t even think about skipping, i’m not waiting outside detention with you again!”

heads turned. yours included. your eyes widened in horror, and your face lit up red with embarrassment. you stood up immediately, shooting him a murderous glare that only made him smirk wider.

“mind your own business, choi!” you hissed, storming off toward the building. of course. he always pushed the wrong buttons. always said the wrong thing. always, somehow, made it worse.

he winced when you disappeared from view.

smooth, idiot.

you, meanwhile, were fuming. he always did this. always found a way to tear into your fragile calm and leave you feeling raw and exposed. you were already trying so hard not to spiral after hearing about taehyun and jinri. and now, choi—no, beomgyu—had to go and humiliate you like that?

your steps were fast and sharp on the tile. you could still feel the sting of people’s stares, the heat of shame crawling up your neck.

he knew. he knew you had feelings for taehyun. and he never said a damn word. never warned you. never tried to protect you from the fall.

the ache settled back into your ribs, heavier now. you didn’t cry—but you wanted to.

by the time you stepped into the classroom, mr. lim was walking in too. and of course, beomgyu was already seated, watching you with that stupid half-smile like he hadn’t just ruined your morning.

you avoided his eyes. didn’t even look his way. but beomgyu’s smile faltered.

because even if you ignored him—he’d still only ever have eyes for you.

you glanced sideways at your companion and let out an irritated huff.

"i told you i was going to walk you home, whether you like it or not," he said, half-laughing, half-serious. his sarcasm only stirred your frustration.

"i never asked for your company, choi," you snapped, clenching your fists. but something in his eyes made you falter—dark, intense, unreadable. you looked away and mumbled, "you can turn around and go home."

you pulled the red scarf tighter around your neck, trying to hide the warmth creeping up your face.

beomgyu didn’t answer. he simply stepped closer, close enough that you had to look up.

“y/n,” he called.

“hmph,” you answered, dryly.

"do you still feel something for taehyun?"

your breath caught in your throat. what the hell was he saying? why now?

“w-why do you care?” you muttered, barely audible, your voice trembling.

your cheeks burned, and you tried to cover them with your sleeve, avoiding his gaze, but his eyes were too much—sharp, searching, like he could see straight through you.

“no…” you whispered. It was a lie, and a poor one. the truth was still tangled up inside of you. that flicker of hope hadn’t quite died out, and it made you feel pathetic.

beomgyu chuckled softly and lowered his head. you caught a glimpse of his smile, and for some reason, it made you uneasy.

“what’s so funny, idiot—?”

“that you still haven’t realized how i feel about you.”

the world went silent.

your heart felt like it stopped mid-beat. you blinked, trying to process what he had just said. no, it had to be your imagination.

he didn’t just—

“i’ve waited so long to say this. it hurts watching you break for someone else, when i’d give you everything,” he said, voice rising, hands trembling slightly as he placed them on your shoulders. “I wouldn’t hurt you, y/n. i’d hold all your broken pieces if you let me. i just don’t get it—why can’t you see me?”

your mouth opened, but nothing came out. he looked at you like he was falling apart in front of you. and you? you were frozen. paralyzed by fear, by shock, by the weight of what he just confessed.

and then—he kissed you.

his hands wrapped around your back, pulling you into him. his lips were warm, desperate, trembling like his heart had been waiting for this moment for years. you didn’t know what was happening until it was already happening. your stomach flipped violently. your skin crawled.

the contact was strange, as if the kiss wasn’t coming from the person you thought you knew. beomgyu, your friend, your companion for life, who had always been there… now he was kissing you without warning, without any preamble, as if everything you shared until that moment meant nothing more to him. without thinking, you tried to pull away. at first, it wasn’t just the physical struggle—there was confusion, disorientation. you wanted to reject it, but his hold on you felt too firm.

you shook your head, trying to push away, but he was stronger—too strong—and the kiss kept going, too long, too sudden. too much.

you slapped him.

hard.

it was the only way to get him off, to create a boundary that was never supposed to be crossed.

it echoed in the stillness.

he stumbled back slightly, one hand on his cheek, eyes wide—not from the pain, but from the heartbreak.

your own hands trembled. you looked at him with wet eyes, unsure when exactly the tears had started falling.

"why… why would you do that?" you whispered, your voice broken, fragile.

he stumbled back, his eyes wide, his breathing ragged as he stared at you. but the pain wasn’t just in his gaze; it was in your chest too. you were shaking, not sure what was worse: the fact that your body had reacted to him at all, or the betrayal that this moment felt like. he knew you were in love with taehyun, and yet, he kissed you anyway. you felt small. you felt exposed. it wasn’t just about the kiss—it was everything that came with it. the confusion. the vulnerability. the fear that your friendship had been nothing but a disguise for something much more painful and unspoken.

beomgyu didn’t respond right away. he just looked at you. his breathing was uneven, lips parted. then, in a voice that cracked in the middle:

"because i’m a fool for you. a damn fool for all the things you do.”

your chest tightened.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to be. you didn’t know what you felt, you couldn’t understand anything—not his words, not his kiss, not your own tears. the glass wall you’d built around your heart, the one you’d spent years reinforcing, was beginning to shatter—and that terrified you more than anything.

because maybe, just maybe… you weren’t as indifferent as you pretended to be.

but right now, all you could do was cry.

in the following days, you withdrew into yourself. it wasn’t just the kiss that haunted you—it was everything that came after it. the uncertainty, the disarray of emotions, and the feeling of being exposed in a way you never had before. you tried to bury yourself in your studies, bury yourself in any distraction that would keep your mind off what had happened. you couldn’t even look at beomgyu without feeling an uncomfortable twist in your stomach. it was as though the world had tilted in a direction you hadn’t been prepared for, and now you couldn’t figure out how to get back to where you were before.

beomgyu, on the other hand, seemed to be in a constant battle with himself. he tried to reach out to you, to apologize, but each time you saw him, the weight of what he had done was too much for you to bear. he wanted to explain himself, to tell you it wasn’t meant to hurt you, but the guilt was eating away at him. his usual confidence, the one that made him so easy to talk to, had been replaced with an anxious, almost desperate energy.

one afternoon, as you sat alone in the library, you felt the familiar presence of beomgyu standing behind you. you could tell he had been following you for a while, hoping to catch your attention. you didn’t look up immediately, not wanting to face the reality of his gaze on you.

“y/n…” his voice was quieter than usual, carrying a softness that you weren’t accustomed to. “i need to talk to you.”

you didn’t respond, pretending to focus on the book in front of you. the silence stretched between you, thick and uncomfortable.

“i’m sorry,” he continued, his voice laced with regret. “i don’t even know what i was thinking… i never meant to make you feel that way. i just—”

“stop.” you finally looked up, locking eyes with him. the expression on his face made your heart ache, but you couldn’t allow yourself to feel sorry for him. “why did you do it? why did you kiss me, knowing… knowing how I feel about taehyun?” your voice cracked slightly, betraying the vulnerability you had been trying so hard to suppress. “why did you make me feel like i don’t even know who you are anymore?”

beomgyu’s face contorted with pain. “i—” he sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i’m so sorry, y/n. i’m a fool. i knew how you felt about taehyun, but… i just couldn’t help it. i’ve been carrying these feelings for so long, and when i saw you with him… i felt like i couldn’t hold back anymore. i thought… maybe, if i kissed you, things would change. that you’d finally see me. but now, i realize… i’ve only made everything worse.”

his words hit you like a punch to the stomach. the ache in your chest deepened, but it wasn’t just the pain of the kiss. it was the weight of everything that had been left unsaid, all the years of unspoken feelings, and now it was spilling out in a mess of confusion and regret.

you stood up abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor as you walked away from him. you couldn’t stay there any longer. his presence, so close, was making it harder to breathe.

“i don’t know what you want from me, beomgyu,” you said, your voice trembling. “but i don’t know if i can forgive you for this. not yet.”

beomgyu didn’t move. he watched you walk away, his face contorted in pain. but deep down, he knew that the kiss—no matter how much it had meant to him—had been a mistake. and now, the distance between you felt like an insurmountable wall. he had ruined it all, and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

as you disappeared from his sight, beomgyu slumped against the table, his heart heavy with guilt. “i’m such a fool,” he whispered to himself, knowing there was no easy way out of this mess he had created. the worst part wasn’t the rejection—it was realizing that he had lost you, and he couldn’t undo the damage. the realization that the kiss, that stolen moment, was the start of something he wasn’t sure he could repair.

and you, as you walked away, couldn’t escape the memory of the kiss either. it was your first kiss, yes, but it was so wrong, so stolen, that the idea of it left you reeling. you had never expected something like that from him—your friend, the one who had always been there, the one you had trusted more than anyone else. and yet, here he was, breaking that trust with something impulsive and unthoughtful.

but still, despite your confusion, your heart raced every time you thought about it, the warmth of the kiss still lingering on your lips. and that, more than anything, scared you.

you sat at your desk, half-focused on the homework spread out in front of you. the room was quiet except for the faint scratching of your pen and the occasional sound of cars passing outside your window. your mind kept drifting back to the kiss, to beomgyu’s face when you walked away, to the way his voice cracked when he said your name. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t push it all out.

you didn’t even hear the door open.

“yo,” juyeon said casually as he stepped inside, holding a small stack of old manga volumes in his hands. “found these in the garage. they’re yours, right?”

you blinked and looked up. “uh… yeah,” you said, recognizing the familiar covers. they were pastel-colored, all romance manga you’d devoured in middle school—full of blushing confessions, accidental kisses, and dramatic love triangles. you had forgotten they even existed.

he placed them on your desk, flipping one open as he sat on the edge of your bed. “beomgyu lent you these, didn’t he?”

you nodded slowly. “a long time ago…”

juyeon hummed, flipping through the pages with vague interest. something thin fluttered out from between the pages and drifted to the floor. both of you watched it land.

it was a folded piece of lined notebook paper, yellowed at the edges.

he picked it up before you could react. “what’s this?” he asked, already unfolding it.

“wait, juyeon—” you reached out, but he had already begun reading. his eyes scanned the page, then his eyebrows lifted. a low whistle left his mouth.

“wow. this punk really had it bad for you.”

you felt your heart stop. “what are you talking about?”

he grinned, holding up the letter dramatically. “this is the most cringe, over-the-top, middle-school love confession i’ve ever seen. do you want me to read it out loud or—”

“no!”

he chuckled and handed it to you. you hesitated before taking it, then looked down at the handwriting you immediately recognized.

dear y/n,

i know this is really lame but i wanted to write it down because i get nervous around you and my brain forgets words when you’re looking at me. i think i’ve liked you since the first grade. you never talked much, but i always noticed you. you’d sit alone during recess with your books, and i always wanted to sit next to you… i thought, “she’s the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”

i like everything about you. the way you tie your shoes weird, the way you always read manga under your desk during math, even when you get mad at me for not finishing group projects. i don’t know if you’ll ever like me back, maybe you’ll think i’m weird, or annoying. but it’s okay. i just wanted to tell you. you make my chest feel warm.

please don’t hate me.

sincerely, beomgyu

you stared at the letter, your fingers tightening slightly as you held it. something in your chest shifted. it wasn’t just what the letter said—it was the fact that he’d written it. that he’d felt that way for so long. and you never knew. or maybe you did, and you just never let yourself see it.

“he’s been following you around since you were like six” juyeon said with a shake of his head. “remember when he showed up to your piano recital with a bouquet of dandelions? or when he joined your library club even though he hates reading?”

you did remember. and more kept coming to you. the way beomgyu would wait for you after class, even when his friends left. how he’d always give you the last snack in his lunchbox. how he’d look away quickly when you caught him staring.

you looked down at the letter again, your heart beating unevenly.

“he’s always been like a little puppy, wagging his tail just to get a smile from you, always looking at you with that goofy grin like you hung the moon. i’m pretty sure this kid’s been in love with you for ages.” juyeon added, standing up and stretching. “anyway, you’re too young to have a boyfriend. so don’t get any ideas.”

the words hit you like a truck. your mind reeled. you thought back to all those moments with beomgyu—the small gestures, the times he’d gone out of his way just to make you laugh or cheer you up, the way his eyes would soften whenever he looked at you. you had always thought it was because he was your friend, because he cared. but now, seeing it all in this letter... hearing juyeon’s words... it made you realize that it was more than that. It had always been more.

you closed your eyes, trying to process the weight of what you were feeling. was it possible that beomgyu had been in love with you all this time? and if he had been, how could you have been so blind?

he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

you sat there in silence, the letter still in your hands. it felt like something had cracked open inside you, a dam holding back years of memories you’d brushed aside.

you leaned back in your chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to sort through the whirlwind of emotions that were suddenly flooding your mind. beomgyu had liked you for years. he had kept this hidden, carried it in silence all this time. but now, everything had changed. the kiss... his confession... it was all so sudden. so overwhelming.

you thought about beomgyu's voice. the way he said your name. how he looked at you like you were his whole world—even when you were ignoring him, even when you were in love with someone else.

you thought about the kiss again. how wrong it was. how confusing. but also… how fast your heart had been beating afterward. how your lips had tingled. how you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he held your face so gently, like you were something delicate he couldn’t believe he was touching.

you pressed your fingers to your lips, your breath catching in your throat.

your heart pounded in your chest. beomgyu had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember, and now, the weight of his feelings was crashing down on you. you felt so... confused. part of you was angry that he hadn’t said anything sooner, that he had kept it all inside. another part of you, though, felt a strange pull toward him—one you didn’t know how to understand or accept.

you ran a hand through your hair, your mind spinning.

could you ever look at him the same way again? was there a chance, even a small one, that you could feel the same way about him? or would this change everything between you two?

your emotions were all over the place. you hadn’t even realized how much you had come to depend on beomgyu—his presence in your life, the way he made everything seem easier. the thought of him being in love with you, all these years... It made your stomach twist, your heart ache in a way that was difficult to explain.

for now, though, you needed time. time to process everything, time to figure out how you truly felt, and time to understand what this all meant. but for the first time, you couldn’t deny that there was something deeper between you and beomgyu, something that had always been there, hidden just beneath the surface.

the spring air was soft that afternoon. petals floated lazily from the cherry trees scattered across the school courtyard, painting the sky in shades of pink and white. under one of them, you sat alone, your notebook resting forgotten on your lap, eyes lost in the distance.

the gentle crunch of footsteps over grass made you turn your head.

“hey,” beomgyu said quietly, his voice hesitant but kind. “mind if i sit?”

you gave a small nod, heart skipping a beat the moment he lowered himself beside you. neither of you spoke for a few seconds, letting the silence settle like dust on your skin. the breeze swept between you, carrying a whisper of unspoken things.

the silence stretched between you, filled only by birdsong and the rustling of leaves. your heart wouldn’t calm down. It hadn’t, not since that moment — your first kiss. stolen. wrong. but... your chest still fluttered every time you remembered it. no one had ever looked at you the way he did in that moment. no one had ever felt like that.

“i… i found the letter,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. offering the old note with a small, unsure smile.

beomgyu froze slightly beside you.

“in the manga you lent me,” you clarified. “it fell out when my brother opened one.”

his cheeks flushed instantly, the tips of his ears turning red. he looked down, rubbing the back of his neck. “wow. that’s… old.”

you smiled softly, despite everything. “you were thirteen.”

he groaned into his hands. “oh god, i was so lame back then.”

“it was sweet,” you said honestly. “kind of cheesy. a lot dramatic. but sweet.”

his eyes met yours — full of that soft, scared, vulnerable look he always gave you when his guard was down.

“i'm sorry,” he said suddenly. “for the kiss. for not asking. i shouldn’t have done that.”

you looked away, biting your lip. “i was shocked. and confused. I still am. but i don’t… hate that it happened.”

he blinked. “you don’t?”

you shook your head. “it was wrong… but it made me realize how much i never saw. how long you’ve felt like this. how many times you tried to show me, and i just… i never noticed.”

beomgyu took a shaky breath. his voice was softer now, more vulnerable than you’d ever heard.

“i’ve been in love with you since I was six,” he said, eyes on his hands. “back when you beat me at every single math test and made fun of my hair. i thought, ‘she’s so annoying’... and then i just wanted to be around you all the time. so I became annoying too, just so you'd keep looking at me.”

you laughed — gently, quietly, your cheeks warming. he smiled too.

“i used to count how many times you laughed in a day,” he continued, his voice trembling. “i memorized your schedule just so i could pass you in the hallway. every group project, i fought to be with you. i learned your coffee order. i even started watching that boring drama you liked just to talk about it with you.”

he chuckled to himself, glancing at you with the fondest eyes you’d ever seen.

“do you remember that time in middle school when i stayed outside in the rain because you forgot your umbrella and I wanted to walk you home?”

you nodded slowly.

“you told me it was stupid.”

“it was,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. “you caught a cold the next day.”

“still worth it.”

the wind picked up again, swirling a few petals around the two of you. one landed gently on your hair, and beomgyu reached over instinctively to brush it away. his hand lingered for a second longer than it needed to. your cheeks deepened in color.

“i know you don’t feel the same,” he whispered, his voice more serious now. “or maybe not yet. and that’s okay. i don’t need anything from you. just… having this moment, sitting here with you, getting to say all of this out loud—it’s enough. you make me feel like the dumbest person alive, y/n. but in the best way.”

you blinked, your throat suddenly tight.

“i’ve waited a long time to tell you,” he added. “and i'd wait again, even if it takes forever.”

you didn’t know what to say.

there were still so many thoughts swirling inside you—confusion, memories, flickers of warmth you hadn’t let yourself fully feel until now. but somehow, sitting there under the tree, next to beomgyu and the scent of spring in the air, it didn’t feel so scary. it felt... safe.

he smiled faintly. “being around you, even if i was annoying you or just carrying your bag or letting you copy my notes… that was the best part of my days. i think i’ve always kind of lived around you.”

you looked at him then, truly looked. his hair danced slightly with the breeze, and there was that same gentle, vulnerable expression you’d seen a few times before—once when he waited outside your house for hours in the rain just to walk you to school, once when he defended you during a class presentation when someone laughed at your pronunciation, once when he silently passed you his scarf because he noticed your hands were shaking from the cold.

“i didn’t mean to ignore how you felt,” you murmured. “and i’m sorry for not noticing. the letter… it was really beautiful. it made me feel something. i’m still figuring out what that is.”

he looked down, his voice quiet but full of everything. “i don’t expect you to feel the same. not now, maybe not ever. but… just being able to say it out loud—to tell you that you’ve always been the person i looked for in every room, every morning, every second—it makes me feel like i’m not hiding anymore. even if i still feel like a fool when you smile at me.”

you smiled then, small but real, and maybe a little breathless. your heart beat just a little louder in your chest, not in panic, but in something unfamiliar and warm.

“you’re not a fool,” you said softly. “not even close.”

he turned to you, hopeful, and for a second, time stilled. no confessions, no promises—just two hearts, slowly inching closer under a cherry tree, learning how to speak the same language.

later that night, you lay on your bed, staring at the ceiling as the pale moonlight poured through your window, casting long shadows across your room. your chest felt heavy, like it was full of fluttering things—tiny, delicate, impossible to catch.

you hadn’t been able to focus on anything since you got home. not homework, not music, not even the manga you used to love reading before bed.

his words played on a loop in your mind.

“you’ve always been the person i looked for in every room.”

you hugged your pillow tightly.

why did it feel like your heart was trying to tell you something, and you just weren’t ready to listen?

you remembered his voice, the nervous laugh he let out when he brought up cherry, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you—like you were something he didn’t believe he deserved to hold.

you didn’t know how long you stayed like that, frozen in your thoughts, until a sudden knock on your door pulled you back to reality.

“y/n,” juyeon peeked in, a plate of fruit in one hand and that familiar annoying-smile-slash-big-brother look on his face. “you’ve been super quiet. thought maybe you got possessed.”

you rolled your eyes. “thanks for the concern.”

he walked in anyway, setting the plate down beside you and sitting at the edge of the bed. “so… you and lover boy talked, huh?”

you blinked. “what?”

“beomgyu. don’t act clueless.” he chuckled. “he looked like a kicked puppy when he came to class earlier, and now he looks like a puppy that got a pat on the head.”

“we talked,” you admitted, voice low.

juyeon just smirked knowingly. “did you kiss again?”

“juyeon!” you threw a pillow at him, cheeks flaming.

he dodged it effortlessly, laughing. “okay okay, sorry! i’m just saying—if i didn’t know better, i’d think you’re starting to fall for him.”

you didn’t reply.

because maybe, just maybe… he wasn’t wrong.

when juyeon finally left, muttering something about “teenage romance being a disease,” you sat up and pulled open your drawer. you reached for that letter—the one from years ago, folded unevenly, still smelling faintly of pencil and dust.

"dear y/n, i don’t really know how to say this, so i’m writing it instead. i think you’re the prettiest girl in the whole school, maybe in the whole world. even when you’re mad at me or call me annoying. i like you. i’ve liked you since the day you shared your umbrella with me in sixth grade. i didn’t know someone could make my heart beat that fast. even if you don’t like me back, i just wanted you to know."

your fingertips brushed over the words.

you were so young back then. so was he. but the way he felt—those words—felt so pure it almost hurt.

and now, all these years later, his feelings hadn’t changed.

your heart clenched.

you didn’t know what to call this thing blooming inside you, but it felt like spring.

slow and delicate.

a new beginning.

then, you were twenty-four.

the late afternoon sun filtered through the large windows of the campus café, casting soft golden hues over the small table where beomgyu sat, one leg crossed over the other, hands lazily wrapped around a warm cup of tea. soobin sat across from him, his brows lifted in curiosity, and yeonjun was leaning forward, utterly hooked.

“so you’re telling me,” yeonjun said, incredulous, “you were in love with her since middle school?”

“since i was six,” beomgyu said with a nostalgic grin, his gaze distant, lips curling faintly as if the memory still made his heart flutter. “i wrote her a letter once. stuck it inside one of my old romance mangas i’d lent her. never told her about it. i figured she’d never find it.”

“but she did,” soobin said, connecting the dots. “and then what happened?”

beomgyu let out a breathy chuckle, fingers tapping absentmindedly on his cup. “then everything changed. slowly. painfully. beautifully.” he paused for a moment, a soft smile playing on his lips. “i think that was the first time she really saw me.”

“damn,” yeonjun muttered, shaking his head. “and you stayed friends all that time? with all those feelings?”

“we weren’t just friends,” beomgyu said cryptically, his eyes twinkling. “but we weren’t anything else, either. not for a while.”

beomgyu gave a small laugh, fingers combing through his hair as he stared up at the sky, a smile creeping in despite himself. “there was a time,” he added, voice softening, “when she was in love with my best friend. taehyun. i hated it. not because taehyun was a bad guy — he wasn’t. he was kind, steady... everything i wasn’t. but watching her cry over him, watching her choose him over and over without even realizing it... it broke me. one day, when she was hurting the most, i kissed her. not because she asked, not because she was ready — but because some stupid part of me thought it would fix everything. that maybe, if she felt what i felt, she’d finally see me.” he paused, swallowing hard. “but all it did was push her further away.”

both soobin and yeonjun were quiet for a moment. the weight of the story settled between them like the end of a song. soobin looked over with a new kind of softness in his eyes. “but you’re still talking about her like she’s everything.” said soobin.

“she is,” beomgyu said, without missing a beat. “she always has been.”

“you’re killing me, man,” yeonjun laughed. “what happened next? did she ever feel the same?”

before beomgyu could answer, a soft voice called from behind.

“gyuya!”

the moment the nickname hit the air, his entire demeanor shifted. he straightened immediately, turning around with the most radiant expression either of his friends had ever seen. you stood there, backpack slung over one shoulder, hair tousled from the wind, a small, tired smile curving your lips.

“baby,” he said, voice drenched in affection as he rose to his feet and wrapped you in a quick, tight hug before kissing your cheek without hesitation. “you made it.”

you chuckled, squeezing his hand as you looked at the two boys staring at you, mouths half-open.

“guys, this is y/n,” beomgyu said, still not letting go of your hand. “she’s the one i was telling you about.”

“oh,” soobin said, eyes wide, trying to process what just happened. “oh.”

“wait— you— you’re together?” yeonjun asked, pointing between you and beomgyu like he was witnessing the plot twist of a k-drama.

you laughed, taking the seat next to beomgyu as he dropped down beside you, still holding your hand like it was something sacred. “we’ve been together for a while,” you said, resting your chin on your hand. “since before college, actually.”

“how do you survive the long-distance?” soobin asked, still stunned.

“it’s not easy,” beomgyu said, turning his gaze to you, eyes soft. “she’s studying economics at hanyang, i’m in the music program here… our schedules almost never match. but we make it work.”

“worth it,” you added quietly, glancing at him, your expression full of something deeper than words.

the boys watched in awe as beomgyu leaned into you, his fingers absentmindedly tracing yours.

“so... all those years,” yeonjun said slowly. “all that pining... paid off.”

beomgyu smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “every second of waiting. every stupid joke. every heartbreak.”

outside, the sky was shifting into twilight. the world felt slower, softer, suspended in something warm and right.

later, as you leaned against beomgyu’s shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut from exhaustion, he whispered into your hair, “i was such a fool for you.”

you smiled sleepily. “you still are.”

and god, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[dawngyu]

THE BLOWOUT

pairing: choi beomgyu x reader

sypnosis: When you find out it’s his birthday—and that he’s spending it alone—you can’t just stand by and let it happen. The thought of him sitting, pretending it’s just another day, you’re too soft-hearted for that.

He won’t be alone. Not if you have anything to do with it.

warnings: strangers to friends to?? alcohol, clubbing, petnames, alchohol!games. let me know if I missed any!

smut-warnings: MDNI. fingering!, oral!f&m receiving, unprotected, nipple!play, dirty talk, creampie, multiple positions dom!beomgyu, manhandling, beomgyu being pussy!drunk lol

wc: 4.2k — playlist

notes: happy birthday beomgyu, the love of my life! this fic is for bamtoris/moas (I love u all) and for the deep love I have for this man.

thank you to my beta reader.

Tonight, you're free.

No papers, no deadlines—just a spontaneous decision, with you and your eyeshadow-adorned eyes.

The air is filled with perfume, alcohol, and the distant haze of cigarette smoke. The place is packed with strangers, faces you don’t recognise, voices blending with music. The bass from the speakers pulses through the floor, a song you don’t recognise thrumming in the background. You clutch your purse a little tighter, a subconscious habit, as you remind yourself why you're here.

"One cocktail, please. Something light," you say to the bartender, slipping onto a barstool. The drink appears in front of you within minutes, a delicate swirl of color in the dim lighting. You take a sip, the cool liquid smoothing down your throath. A small, satisfied hum escapes your lips.

Maybe this was a good idea after all.

You cross your legs, the sparkle of your heels catching in the overhead lights as your eyes scan the room. Most people are on the dance floor, lost in the music, making out in the corner, moving without care.

Then, the space beside you shifts. The scent of expensive cologne, deep, musky, and intoxicating wraps around you before you even turn your head. The bar is nearly empty, yet they choose the seat right next to you.

Dark, deep brown eyes lock onto yours when you turned your head to check. He looks young—mid-twenties, maybe—his sharp jawline and the tall tip of his nose. His hair, a rich chestnut with hints of auburn, falls messily across his forehead, as if styled by pure accident. It’s longer than most men wear it, brushing past his ears and barely settling on his shoulders. The color is striking, almost too perfect, as if painted by careful hands, enhancing the sharp angles of his face.

Your gaze drifts lower. He wears leather—worn yet fitted—paired with dark pants that cling just right. Chains glint at his throat, rings catch the light on his fingers, each piece adding to the effortless allure he carries.

The curiousity of his stare makes your throat go dry. You quickly turn away, pretending to focus on your drink, hoping the heat creeping up your neck isn’t obvious. You swallow hard, quickly looking away, pretending to focus on the last sip of your drink.

The moment your glass is empty, you lift it slightly, signaling the bartender. “Uh—could I get one more—”

“Make it two,” a smooth voice cuts in beside you. A sleek black card slides across the counter. “Her drinks are on me tonight.”

You blink, turning to him. "You don’t have to—"

"I insist," he interrupts, his gaze locking onto yours again. You notice the pink of his lips. This time, it sends a slow, shiver down your spine.

He’s unfairly handsome.

A smirk tugs at his lips. "Besides, I want to taste your drink." His eyes flicker to your empty glass, the faint imprint of your lipstick staining the rim, before trailing up, slowly to your lips. He doesn’t even try to hide it.

"My eyes are up here." you say, tilting your head slightly.

His smirk deepens as he finally meets your eyes, amusement dancing in them. "Yes, ma'am," he teases, throwing in a wink for good measure.

The bartender slides your drink in front of you, and as you bring it to your lips, you can feel his eyes still on you, watching.

"What’s your name?" he asks, effortless.

"Y/N," you reply, setting your glass down.

He repeats it, dragging out each syllable like he’s testing how it feels on his tongue. "Y/N… It suits you." His lips curve slightly before he leans in just a fraction. "Tell me, Y/N, your boyfriend let you out in that dress tonight?"

You arch a brow, meeting his gaze without hesitation. "Even if I had a boyfriend," you say, voice steady, "he wouldn’t get a say in what I wear. It’s my body, right?"

The teasing fades, just for a moment, and instead of another smirk, his lips tug at the corners. A small smile you almost missed it.

"That’s right," he murmurs.

You swirl your glass lightly before looking up at him again. "Since you know my name, I should get yours, don’t you think? I mean, you are buying my drinks."

He leans back slightly, studying you like he’s debating whether to give it up so easily. Then, with a playful tilt of his head, he finally says, "Beomgyu."

Beomgyu, who stuck with you throughout the night.

He's there, when you were pulled into a group of random people for drinks. His hands on the small of your back. His eyes never leaving your form for too long. He comes with you whenever you need to take the restroom. True to his words, he bought each drink that you had.

"I mean, it's just so funny that I was crying!" Yuna, a stranger to you an hour ago says, the laughter of people circled around passed. You are now seated in a long VIP black couch, full of people you just met.

Beomgyu immediately notices your shifting beside him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, this one is... too bitter." You scrunch your face, trying to swallow the last sip, the taste lingering unpleasantly.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Beomgyu watching you closely. His gaze flickers to your lips, and without thinking, he wets his own with the tip of his tongue.

"I'm getting you some water," he murmurs, voice low as he leans in, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin. A light touch grazes the small of your back before he stands. "Wait for me here, yeah?"

He returns within a minute or two, a cold water bottle in his hands. A small smile tugs at his lips as he offers it to you. “It’s completely sealed.”

“Thank you.” You take it as he twists the cap open for you, making sure you hear the pop of the water bottle, the cool plastic brushing against your fingertips. Around you, laughter erupts—Yeonjun’s voice carrying over the noise, no doubt cracking another joke at Kai’s expense.

“So, why are you alone tonight?” Beomgyu's voice pulls your attention back to him. His head tilts slightly as his fingers brush your face, his touch featherlight.

“Can’t I be alone for a night? You know… to de-stress.”

He chuckles at that, and for a moment, the serious, composed Beomgyu fades away, replaced by something softer, something boyish. The sight of it sends warmth rushing to your cheeks.

“Okay, baby.”

Your breath hitches. The casual way he says it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, has you scrambling for composure. You clear your throat. “What about you? Why are you alone?”

He shrugs, leaning back slightly. “Had big plans tonight. Get drunk, party alone. But then—”

“Hey, girly!” Yuna’s voice cuts through the conversation. Your gaze snaps to her just as she singsongs, “It’s you.”

It takes a second for you to register what she means, until you follow her gaze to the bottle lying in the center of the circle, its cap pointing directly at you.

Oh. Right.

You were playing Seven Minutes in Heaven.

After a nod, you watched as they spun the bottle again, maybe to find you another partner because that’s how the game worked, right? You chewed on your lip, the weight of your own impulsiveness settling in.

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to join this crowd, just like it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to come to the club alone tonight. You hadn’t even considered the possibility of being chosen. There were so many people here, what were the odds?

The bottle slowed, your pulse hitching as it nearly landed on someone whose name you vaguely recalled Sunghoon. He was already smirking, leaning forward slightly as if he knew it was going to be him.

But just before it could stop completely, a hand—slender fingers, reached out and nudged it off course.

"Oops, my bad." Beomgyu says, voice light as he tilts his head. "Looks like it’s me."

The room erupts—cheers, whistles, knowing laughter and teases—all directed at the boy who had made no effort to hide just how much he’d stuck by your side tonight.

Beomgyu's gaze flickers to Sunghoon, who meets it head-on. "Any complaints?"

Sunghoon chuckles, raising his hands in surrender. "Nah, man. All yours. We get it."

Beomgyu doesn’t bother acknowledging him. Instead, he turns to you, unfazed by the stares, the amused whispers buzzing around the room. You, on the other hand, feel bare under their scrutiny, exposed.

Then, a hand appears in front of you.

When your fingers found his, the space did not feel so vast, nor the moment so daunting than you thought it would be.

You were led into a cramped, closet-like space at the back of the room, the air thick with anticipation. Chae-won, the mastermind behind this whole setup, turned to face you both, her smirk widening as her gaze flickered down to your still-linked hands.

The truth was, neither of you seemed eager to let go. His hand was warm, larger than yours, fingers loosely curled around yours like he was holding on without even realizing it.

“Seven minutes,” Chae-won announced, her voice dripping with amusement. “I’ll knock when time’s up. And no funny business once I opened it, got it?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Beomgyu answered quickly, but you barely heard him—too busy avoiding Chae-won’s exaggerated eyebrow wiggle, which only made your pulse race even more.

Beomgyu gestured for you to step in first, and you did, he followed, closing the door behind him. The darkness wrapped around you both, forcing your other senses to take over. The space was small, so small you could smell his cologne. You could hear his breathing, steady yet close, feel the warmth radiating from him.

And if there had been even the slightest bit of light, you were sure he would’ve seen how red your face had turned.

“We really don’t have to do anything, you know,” he whispers, his voice soft, almost careful.

You smile at that. You don’t know why, but you trust him—trust him in a way that feels strange yet effortless, like you’ve known him far longer than you actually have.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

A beat of silence. Then, quieter—“You don’t want anything from me at all?”

You hear him swallow, as if your question catches him off guard. “…Maybe a kiss?”

A laugh escapes you, light and breathless, and in the darkness, you feel his hand find yours. Even without seeing, you can picture his face—the shape of his lips, the way his long lashes must be brushing against his cheeks, the way he must be looking at you right now.

God. The heavens must have taken their time sculpting this man.

“A kiss?”

“Hm.” He squeezes your hands gently, and even in the dim light, you can see the teasing smirk tugging at his lips. “Think of it as… a birthday gift.”

“What?” Your eyes widen. “You know I’d still kiss you without that excuse, right?”

He chuckles, the sound warm and effortless. “That’s probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.” His dimples appear, small but unmistakable, and for a second, you forget to breathe. “I wish I was kidding, though, about the birthday part. It’d be nice to say you kissed me just because, not because it’s some excuse.”

You pull your hands away, blinking. “Wait. It’s actually your birthday? What are you doing here alone? Why are you alone? And why—”

Before you can finish, he leans in, silencing your rambling with the lightest brush of his lips against yours. It’s barely a kiss, just a fleeting press, but it’s enough to make your breath hitch, enough to make the world shrink down to just this—just him.

When he pulls back, his voice is quieter, almost careful. "Family’s nowhere near. Friends are busy tonight. No girlfriend." A small pause, his thumb ghosting over your knuckles. "I was just planning to get drunk until I saw your pretty face."

You can't speak. Birthdays are sacred to you—more than just a day on the calendar, they’re a celebration of survival, of everything you’ve endured and overcome. A moment to pause, to appreciate yourself, to recognize the strength it took to make it through another year.

And yet, here he is, spending his alone.

You meet his gaze, and he holds it, there’s no urgency, no expectation in his eyes. He’s done nothing but be kind to you tonight, you were safe with him.

His hand moves slowly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The pad ofhis thumb brushes the curve of your cheek, it’s so soft it almost breaks you. It was as if he’s memorizing the shape of you. “You’re beautiful—”

You don’t let him finish. Instead, you reach up, arms looping around his shoulders, and pull him in. Your lips crash against his, and he responds instantly, kissing you back with a eagerness. His tongue grazes your bottom lip, asking—no, demanding—entrance, and the moment you grant it, he deepens the kiss, tasting you, savouring you.

You press yourself closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the way his hands grip your waist, possessive. One of them slides up to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading into your hair and pressing all of him into you.

When you finally break away, gasping for breath, he chases your lips, desperate to claim them again. But you stop him with a peck. You rest your forehead against his, letting him know what you're about to do.

“Let me make you happy tonight.”

After whispering those words, you can't help but smile back at his ridiculously pretty, beaming face.

It's safe to say that ever since your encounter in that cramped closet, Choi Beomgyu hasn't been able to keep his hands off you. He's bolder now, fingers brushing the small of your back, resting absentmindedly on your knee. So, when he whispers, just 30 minutes later, that he wants to take you home—

You let him.

Because tonight, more than anything, you can’t let him be alone.

And now, your legs are wide open sitting on his bed, moaning his name as his fingers move in and out of your sopping wet cunt. Your nose was filled by his scent.

He was all around.

“Beomgyu…” You moaned, watching his fingers diddle with your clit for a few seconds before being shoved back in again. He already made you squirt and it hasn’t even been 30 minutes since you’ve entered this apartment.

“Feels good?” He commented, smirking up at you as he places a kiss on it. 

“Oh my gosh…” You panted, leaning on your elbows, not wanting to miss a movement. Tongue darting out, he traced the sides of your cunt, moaning as he took it all in his mouth. The vibrations almost sent you to the edge again as you tried to press his face closer to you.

Taking his fingers out, you can feel Beomgyu harden his tongue on your clit before he drags it down to your hole. “Ah!” You pouted at him, hissing at the feeling of his wet muscles exploring your insides.

The way he moves it around makes you circle your hips, grinding your clit on his nose and making him growl. “I knew you would taste this good.” You blushed, thinking about how he kept looking at you, as if wanting to see every reaction you have.

Kissing your clit one more time, he moved up to your lips, “How can your lips taste so sweet?” He moaned, pressing your cheek as he coaxed you to open your mouth. You let him slip his tongue inside you, panting as he allowed you to suck on it before tapping your cheek lightly as he pulled away “Such a good girl,” He tapped your tit before pulling your chest to him, skillful tongue circling your sensitive nipples as his fingers played with the other one. 

“Yeah….” You moaned, pushing his hair back and exposing his forehead as he licked your nipples with the tip of his tongue. His eyes stared up at you before you felt his finger caressing your slit again. He indulged in the way your brows bumped together when he sucked your nipples hard, pulling before letting go with a pop. 

Your hand found purchase on his still-clothed cock, painfully wanting to be let out of its confinement. “You wanna taste? Go on. It’s been waiting for you.” He chuckled as you slowly pulled his sweatpants down. “Go on, baby.” The way he said ‘baby’ made your pussy clench as you squatted in front of him, naked cunt exposed to the air as you kissed the tip of his dick. 

“Yeah, spread those legs as you suck my dick. That's what you get for looking so fucking beautiful tonight.” You moaned, tongue sticking out as you licked his shaft, hand cupping his balls before you took it all in your moan. Beomgyu grunted at the move, cursing at how you escalated things quickly from kitten licks to deep-throating him in an instant. “Shit, you weren't really kidding when you said you'll make me happy, huh?” He chuckled.

You eagerly took it back in your mouth, letting your tongue trace the vein under his length. You whimpered as you felt him reach over to tweak your nipple with his fingers. “You have such pretty lips for my dick, yeah?” He hissed as you bobbed your head up and down, pulling your lips back to prevent your teeth from touching his skin.

Not long after, you can feel Beomgyu's thighs tensing under your touch and he was already pulling you away from him.

“Not yet.” He whispered, pushing you back on the bed. You instantly opened your legs, staring at him with lust and hunger in your eyes as you licked your lip. Beomgyu watched as you spread your plump lips, showing him your entrance as if silently begging him to ram his heavy dick into you. He would’ve taken his time to stare at how beautiful you are if only his knees weren’t going weak from holding back.

“You just can’t wait, huh?” He rubbed the tip at the tender flesh of your core making you whimper, grinding your hips as you pleaded repeatedly. He cooed at your state, putting a hand behind your head before capturing your lips and shoving his erection inside your waiting cunt. You moaned in the kiss, feeling the pleasurable burn as he stretched you with his girth. He slowly moved in and out of you, groaning at the tightness before breaking the kiss only to urge you to watch as your heat took his length.

“Look at that, doll. Look how perfectly it fits inside you.” He moans, mocking your whimpers as he gradually went faster until he was slamming into you. His strong hands push your knees to your shoulder, squeezing your bouncing tits. You shamelessly called out his name, not caring if anyone can hear you.

“Yeah, wanna let everyone know I can’t hold myself around you, huh?” He growled, sweat dripping down his face as he parted your folds with his fingers. “Is that why you’re being so loud?” You can feel his long tip nudge your g-spot, making you scream as you explode.

“Oh gosh, G-gyu—” You chanted, feeling his cock slip out, or rather get pushed out as you squirted on him, making him chuckle as he rubbed your clit quickly before pulling your hand and switching positions. 

“Messy baby.” He teased you, watching your body twitch as he laid down, placing you on top of him and you found yourself mindlessly rubbing yourself on his cock before swiftly sliding it in with a soft cry. “That’s it, fuck yourself on me. Show me how much you want my cum? That will really make my birthday.” He reached for your tits, rubbing the pebbled flesh as you rolled your hips on top of him, hands caressing his glistening skin as you breathed out his name. 

Seeing your mouth open, and your glazed eyes as your body bounces on top of him got him staring at you in amazement. Beomgyu's hand slid down your body to your swollen nub, drawing figures with his thumb as he shallowly thrust up to you, restraining himself from letting go and fully ravishing your body. 

It was when you leaned back, arching your body as you parted your legs wider that he lost control, ramming up to you like a madman as a rumble erupted from his throat. “You’re really asking for it, baby.” He put his hand on your hips for support as he fucks himself up in you, chuckling as you hit those high notes, and breathing harder as he hit the exact spot inside you. 

“Beomgyu.. keep doing that.” You whimpered, throwing your head back as you let him use your body as he pleases. Desperate for release, Beomgyu sat up and laid you down again without taking his pulsating length out of you. You can tell how much he’s trying to stop himself from coming, enjoying how you squeeze his throbbing cock every time he shoves himself in you. 

Yelping as he folds you in a mating press, Beomgyu couldn’t even afford to let you breathe as he hammered his dick into you. “Oh fuck!” You cried, feeling him reach deeper into the new position. His face contorted like he was in pain as he repeatedly buried himself inside you, bullying your cunt as put half his weight on you.

“Gonna cum inside you, doll.” He panted, pressing his forehead against yours and smiling when you nodded frantically with teary eyes. “Gonna fill you up so good, you’re going to be asking for it more later.” The sound of your skin slapping against each other echoed around the room.

Feeling his hips stutter, you pouted up at him, “Give it to me, please, Beomgyu. Pretty please.” You breathed against his lips. 

As his thrusts went shallow, you could feel his tip rub the sweet spot inside you, making you cry out in pleasure as you cum hard around him. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and your thighs trembled. The feeling of your walls spasming and contracting around him sent Beomgyu to the edge. He managed one powerful thrust, hissing as he spilled all his release deep inside you. You whimpered at the feeling of his warm liquid flooding and painting your insides. 

“So fucking good,” He rasped out before capturing your lips. Panting hard, he savored the feeling of your tight pussy clenching around him. You stayed in that position for a couple of seconds, hearing each other’s shattered breaths before he pulled out, eyes fixated on your hole. He licked his lips, smirking as you whined desperately at him. Your hip’s starting to hurt but you can’t bring yourself to care, enjoying the way his eyes glimmer at the sight of his cum leaking out of you.

"Happy now?" you chuckled, breath still unsteady. Beomgyu met your gaze, a boyish smile tugging at his lips. "I was close to breaking most of the time, Choi Beomgyu,"

He let out a soft laugh, warmth flickering in his eyes as he finished cleaning himself. Then, without hesitation, he turned his attention to you, his touch impossibly gentle as he wiped you down. "You are a wonder, love," he murmured, almost in awe.

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth in your chest betrayed you. Pulling the blanket closer, you watched as Beomgyu stood, opening the bedside drawer.

"So… no girlfriend, huh?"

"I don’t have one."

You scoffed, grabbing the nearest pillow and tossing it at him before sinking deeper under the covers. "You—"

Beomgyu easily dodged with a chuckle, taking your worked up form and sliding onto the bed beside you. His hand found yours, warm and sure, as he gently slipped your familiar ring back onto your finger. The same one he wore, a perfect match. His gaze softened, "You're not just a girlfriend. What are you on about?"

"Tell me why I agreed to this roleplay again?"

"Because it’s my birthday today, baby." He grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek before lingering on your forehead. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. "And because you’re the perfect wife for giving me a blowout."

taglist: I love youuu @.luvsicktyun @.lovingbeomgyudayone @.virtaideen @.hyukascampfire @.fancypeacepersona @.bamgeutori @.lilbrorufr @.beomieeeeeeeeeeees @.xylatox @.yunverie @.imlonelydontsendhelp @.moagyuu @.immelissaaa @.readinmidnight

[itendtothinkalot]

the checklist

summary: beomgyu swore he'd never get into a relationship. it’s cringe, it’s stupid. but when he starts getting nervous and flustered around you, his best friend huening kai creates a checklist to figure out if he’s into you.

genre: fluff

characters: beomgyu x f!reader

words: 5.1k

warnings:

a/n: im glad txt's hvg rest but oh i do miss them <3<33

Beomgyu was baffled. Relationships? Love? Please. He’d never been in one, much less fallen for anyone before. The whole concept of being in love sounded like a scam to him—a nightmare wrapped in pink ribbons. The idea of dating someone was even worse. What, he’s supposed to shower them with constant attention? What is this? A puppy adoption program? A full-time babysitting gig? No, thanks.

Every time his friends gushed about their latest romantic escapades—"Oh, we’re going to this cute little café together!" or "We stayed up all night just talking!"—Beomgyu would roll his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck in the back of his head. He didn’t get it. Why would anyone willingly sign up for this chaos?

But then, you happened. And suddenly, Beomgyu found himself staring at his reflection, wondering when the hell he became one of those people.

“Kai.” Beomgyu tapped his friend's shoulder insistently, desperate for some sort of wisdom. “Kai!” He repeated, louder this time, when his friend blatantly ignored him.

Kai sighed dramatically, pulling off his headphones with the kind of irritation reserved for someone whose game was going so well. “Beomgyu, I’m literally in the middle of a match. Can this wait?”

“Sure,” Beomgyu replied with an unusually calm nod, flopping onto Kai’s bed and staring at the ceiling like he’d just been hit by an existential crisis.

That’s when Kai froze. Something wasn’t right. Beomgyu wasn’t whining, nagging, or hovering over his screen like a bratty sibling waiting for their turn to play. This was weird. Alarm bells went off in Kai’s head.

“Wait…” Kai spun around, yanking his headphones off completely. “You’re not being annoying? You’re not rushing me? What the hell happened?” He plopped down next to Beomgyu, who looked suspiciously… deflated. “Okay, who hurt you?”

“No one.” Beomgyu sighed dramatically, staring at the ceiling as if it held all the answers. “I was just… thinking.”

Kai raised an eyebrow, already suspicious. “You think?”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes and flicked Kai’s forehead without hesitation. “Occasionally. Yes. Shocking, I know.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Kai said, rubbing his forehead with a smirk. “Continue.”

Beomgyu hesitated, then sat up slightly, his voice quieter now. “It’s just… you see… there’s this girl.”

Kai’s eyes lit up, his tone immediately shifting from curious to obnoxiously teasing. “Ooooh, a girl, huh?”

“Shut up.” Beomgyu groaned, shoving him lightly. “It’s not even like that. I don’t like her like that. Or vice versa. Or—whatever. It’s complicated.” He sighed again, the weight of his confusion palpable.

Kai leaned back, crossing his arms with an amused grin. “You sound real upset for someone who doesn’t care.”

“Can you just listen to me for once? Please!” Beomgyu groaned, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Okay, fine! I’m sorry!” Kai held his hands up defensively. “I’m listening now. Go ahead, Romeo.”

“Thank you.” Beomgyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. “So… there’s this girl.”

Kai smirked. “Yeah, I got that part.”

Beomgyu shot him a warning glare before continuing. “She’s new at the café. Yeonjun told me to, y’know, mentor her on the drinks. So, I’ve been doing that. It’s been a couple of weeks, and, well… she’s just this normal girl. She’s studying at the same school as us, but I think she’s in a different building.”

Kai tilted his head, squinting. “Right. A totally normal girl who you’ve been thinking about so much, she’s made you think.”

Beomgyu let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “And lately… I don’t know. Yeonjun’s been putting our schedules together, and I… I don’t know how to feel about it. Like, all I know is I like working with her. I enjoy being around her. But I hate what this feeling is doing to me. It’s like—what’s the word—annoying.”

Kai raised an eyebrow, leaning back smugly. “Not gonna lie, Beomgyu, it sounds a lot like you kinda… like her.”

“That’s impossible.” Beomgyu threw his hands up in exasperation. “I don’t like anyone. I don’t want to be in a relationship. You know me! I couldn't care less about dating, romance, or whatever nonsense everyone seems obsessed with.”

——

One Month Ago

“And of course, this is Beomgyu,” Yeonjun said with a teasing smirk as he gestured to the tall, ridiculously attractive guy standing in front of you. “Do not be charmed by his good looks—he’s not interested in anyone. Except himself, of course.”

You blinked, gulping down the sudden lump in your throat. Okay, Yeonjun wasn’t lying—this guy was good-looking. Too good-looking. Like, unfairly good-looking. But "off-limits"? Perfect. You weren’t exactly in the market for romance anyway, not with your recent breakup looming over your head like a bad rom-com cliché.

This job was supposed to be your escape—a way to distract yourself from your ex and maybe stop scraping together couch change for instant ramen. A few shifts, some good times, and some side cash—easy, right? Except now, you were standing face-to-face with someone who looked like he belonged on a billboard instead of behind a café counter.

It would be fine. Totally fine. You weren’t interested in him. And according to Yeonjun, he wasn’t interested in anyone. Which meant you had nothing to worry about. Right?

“Hey!” you said with a small smile, offering it to the brooding guy standing before you. But instead of the moody half-nod you were expecting, he returned your smile—a sweet, disarming one that completely threw you off.

Well. Scratch “emo” off your presumptuous first impressions.

“Y’know,” you said, tilting your head curiously, “you look super familiar. Are you from the university across the street?”

Beomgyu’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by your question. He nodded quickly. “Uh, yeah! Have you seen me around?”

“No,” you said, grinning as you delivered the punchline, “but I’ve seen the posters…”

Ah, the posters. A wave of embarrassment immediately washed over Beomgyu. Back in his first year, he’d been strong-armed recruited by the university’s marketing team to pose for promotional posters plastered around campus. At the time, the promise of a couple hundred bucks had been too tempting for a broke freshman to pass up. But now? Those same posters felt like his own personal humiliation tour.

“Oh. Those posters,” he mumbled, cheeks reddening as he scratched the back of his neck. “Right. Darn things…”

You laughed—a sweet, melodic sound that tugged at something unfamiliar in his chest. “It’s okay! They turned out great.”

And just like that, you walked away, following Yeonjun into the staff pantry, completely unaware of the tiny earthquake you’d just triggered in Beomgyu’s world.

He stood frozen in place, replaying the interaction in his head. The way your eyes lit up when you spoke to him, like you’d known each other forever. The way your laugh lingered in his ears, soft and warm. The way your hair bounced as you walked, catching the light in a way that felt almost cinematic.

Beautiful. That was the only word his brain could come up with. You were beautiful—too much for him to process, let alone admit. And it wasn’t just how you looked. It was the ease, the effortless charm you carried, like you’d just walked into his life to flip it upside down.

It hit him like a punch to the gut: if he did have a type, you would be it. Except…

He didn’t have a type. He didn’t want a type. He didn’t want to date anyone. Absolutely not.

So why was his heart doing cartwheels in his chest?

——

Present

“You literally like her,” Huening Kai groaned, rolling his eyes so hard it looked like they might stay that way. “Dude, you’re just in denial at this point.”

“I don’t like her!” Beomgyu shot back, glaring daggers at his best friend, hands clenched, this close to shoving Kai off the bed.

“Okay,” Kai said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Then let’s do a quick little checklist, shall we?”

Beomgyu narrowed his eyes but said nothing.

“How do you feel when she’s this—” Kai leaned in obnoxiously close, practically nose-to-nose with Beomgyu, “—close to you?”

“Uh…” Beomgyu faltered, his face heating up faster than he could come up with a retort.

——

2 Weeks Ago

“Beom, can you pass me the sugar, please?” you asked, glancing up at him.

Standing almost two heads taller than you, Beomgyu had become your unofficial ladder. Need something on a high shelf? Just call Beomgyu. And honestly? He didn’t seem to mind.

Working with him was surprisingly easy. Too easy, actually. Everyone said earning money was tough, but when Beomgyu was around, the shifts flew by, lighthearted banter here and there, and the occasional spilled drink, it was just like kindergarten. 

“Beom?” Beomgyu blinked at the nickname, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You’d only started calling him that a few days ago, but hearing it felt… weirdly nice.

“Here,” he said, reaching for the sugar. “Just don’t drop it like last time.”

“Hey!” You protested, pouting. “That’s unfair. If I recall correctly, you made me laugh, and that’s why I dropped it. So technically, it was your fault.”

“Oh, so now being charming and funny is my fault?” Beomgyu quipped, a teasing smirk dancing on his face.

“Yes,” you said with a playful nod. “But also, thank you for taking the blame for me.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, handing the sugar container to you. “It's not like Yeonjun can fire me. He needs me more than he thinks.”

Just as you reached for the sugar, your hand brushed against his. It was brief—barely a second—but it sent a jolt through Beomgyu like he’d grabbed a live wire. His grip faltered, and the container slipped from his hands.

“Beomgyu!” you laughed, not realizing that the simple touch had completely short-circuited him.

He mumbled an apology, crouching to pick up the container, but his mind was still reeling. Why was his heart suddenly pounding? Why couldn’t he stop staring at the way your smile lit up the entire room?

You. Your hands brushing against his. Your laugh ringing in his ears. Your eyes meeting his and holding his gaze just a second longer than necessary.

Perfection.

And he hated it. Absolutely hated it. Because it made him feel things he swore he’d never feel. But no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the truth was painfully obvious.

He was in trouble.

——

Present

“It feels… funny,” Beomgyu muttered, struggling to find the right word. But even as he said it, he knew "funny" didn’t even come close to describing what you did to him.

“Funny?” Huening Kai snorted with laughter. “That’s the best you can do? Alright, let’s get into the details. Do you ever... get nervous around her?”

“Does the feeling of needing to take a shit every time she’s near me count?” Beomgyu asked, his brain still scrambling for the right words.

Kai slapped his forehead, groaning. “You’re hopeless.”

——

1.5 Weeks Ago

For the past week, Beomgyu had been stuck opening the café. Normally, Yeonjun handled mornings, but some emergency had left Beomgyu in charge. He hated the added responsibility. But if he was being honest—though he’d never admit it—it also gave him an excuse to tweak the schedule so that your shifts overlapped with his. Taehyun would be okay with working late shifts for 2 weeks, right?

This morning, he found himself nervously fidgeting in front of the shiny coffee machine, using its reflection as a makeshift mirror. Was his hair okay? Maybe the little bit of gel he’d added was too much. Should he spritz on more cologne? No, too obvious.

The café was quiet, only a handful of early-morning customers scattered across tables. The clock ticked toward 9 a.m., and Beomgyu felt his heart rate pick up. Any second now.

And then the door chimed.

“Morning, Beomie!” you called cheerfully, your voice like sunshine cutting through the morning haze.

Beomgyu froze, his breath hitching as he turned to see you. You were radiant. Effortlessly glowing, even in your simple two-piece outfit that hugged you just right. Your smile was enough to knock the wind out of him.

“M-Morning!” he stammered, barely able to string two words together.

You cocked your head at him, a giggle escaping your lips. “You alright there?”

Walking over to the counter, you placed your bag down and grabbed the apron you’d left the night before. Without hesitation, you slipped it on and turned toward him, pulling the strings into your hands.

“Can you help me tie this?”

Beomgyu nodded stiffly, stepping closer. His fingers fumbled with the strings, brushing against the soft skin of your lower back. His heart skipped a beat. Why did she have to wear a crop top today? he thought miserably, trying not to combust on the spot. The warmth of your skin sent shivers racing up his spine.

“Thanks!” you chirped, spinning around to face him. But your brows furrowed as you studied him more closely.

“Gosh, Beomie, are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, leaning in and placing your hands gently on his forehead as if checking for a fever.

The sudden closeness made Beomgyu’s brain short-circuit. His knees felt weak, and his entire body betrayed him, a blush creeping up his neck.

“I—uh—I gotta use the washroom,” he blurted, stepping back awkwardly. “Be right back.”

And before you could respond, he was gone, leaving you to shake your head with an amused smile. Meanwhile, in the restroom, Beomgyu leaned against the sink, staring at his reflection.

“What the hell is happening to me?” he whispered to himself, running a hand through his hair. But deep down, he already knew the answer.

——

Present

“I hate to break it to you,” Huening Kai said, deadpan, “but that literally sounds like you’re in love with her.”

“No! It can’t be that. I’m probably just… sick,” Beomgyu stammered, shaking his head as if that would banish the thought.

Kai raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh, so you’re only ‘sick’ when she’s around? Sure, Beomgyu. Totally normal. You’re absolutely fine.” He rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck.

“I shouldn’t have asked you,” Beomgyu muttered. “Should’ve gone to Soobin. He’s less… devilish.”

Kai smirked, leaning back against the wall. “Oh yeah, Soobin. Because he’d totally never make fun of you. Not at all.”

“You’re right. I need to make new friends.” Beomgyu stood up abruptly, pretending to walk away.

Kai grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Aww, come on! Don’t be like that. I’m serious. I’m here to help. I can do this, I swear.”

“Kai,” Beomgyu groaned, “I think we should just call it a day.”

“No!” Kai exclaimed, holding up a finger like he’d just cracked the Da Vinci Code. “We’re this close. Once you admit whatever it is you’re avoiding, life will be so much easier. Trust me. I can see the future.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Okay, okay, fine. Just answer me one last final question.”

“What?”

“Does your heart… race? When you’re with her?”

——

2 Days Ago

“Choi Yeonjun, you stupid little shit,” Beomgyu muttered under his breath, blowing into his hands to keep warm. Sending him and you to run errands in the middle of winter felt like some kind of cruel prank.

Next to him, you were bundled up in a cozy puffer jacket, scarf, and beanie, your nose red from the cold. Beomgyu had to bite back a grin. You looked like the cutest Pop Mart figurine he’d ever seen.

You pouted, your breath visible in the freezing air. “Why couldn’t Yeonjun be more accurate with the timing? I’m freezing my ass off.”

Beomgyu crossed his arms, scowling. “I’m killing him later.”

You shook your head, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Or… we could always take revenge.”

Beomgyu’s brows lifted. “Oh, my sweet genius. How?”

You grinned, leaning in conspiratorially. “We can replace all the coffee beans in the grinder with decaf tomorrow morning. Let’s see how Yeonjun functions without caffeine.”

Beomgyu blinked, then burst out laughing. “You’re dangerous. I didn’t realize you were as devious as you are adorable.”

The words slipped out before he could stop them, but you didn’t seem to notice. You just smiled, giggling. “I got it from my mom.”

He laughed along with you, his heart feeling lighter despite the cold.

“Gosh, is it coming yet?” you sighed, your voice trembling. The icy air seemed to suck all the energy from your words.

“Yeonjun said it’ll be here around 3:15,” Beomgyu replied, glancing at his watch. “So… about ten more minutes.”

You groaned, shivering as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “O-okay.”

“Hold on.”

You blinked, watching as Beomgyu walked away without explanation. Confused but not wanting to leave in case the truck arrived, you stayed put, hopping in place to keep warm.

A few minutes later, Beomgyu returned, holding two steaming, foil-wrapped sweet potatoes.

“Here,” he said, handing one to you.

Your face lit up, your smile bright despite the cold. You pressed the warm sweet potato to your face, sighing in relief. “I can’t feel my face.”

Beomgyu chuckled, stepping closer. “Here.” He pressed his own sweet potatoes against your cheeks, squishing them gently. “Better?”

You blinked up at him, your cheeks squished in his hands, making you look even more adorable.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stop. Beomgyu’s heart pounded in his chest as the warmth of your skin and the softness of your smile hit him like a freight train.

Then you reached up, stopping him from pulling his hands away. “Aw, no, come on. Keep them there. I’m freezing.”

Beomgyu’s cheeks burned, and for once, he was grateful for the cold air, it gave him an excuse. But even as he tried to steady his breathing, he could feel it. His heart was racing faster than ever.

——

Present

“I have feelings for her, don’t I?”

Huening popped a chip into his mouth, “I hate to say it but I told you so.”

“Well, what do I do now?”

“You’ve gotta tell her. And after you do, let Soobin know that I’ve officially won the title of Beomgyu’s top best friend this month.”

“And how am I supposed to ask her?”

“Well, just a suggestion, but you could text her?”

“That’s not romantic!” Beomgyu deadpanned.

“Oh, sorry for trying to help. You’re the same guy who once swore he’d never, in a million years, tell a girl she looks pretty because apparently, that’s basically signing up to be chained to a cage like a love-struck animal.”

“That was the old me.”

Huening smirked, popping another chip into his mouth. “Sure, that’s the ‘old you,’ but the new you is in love with her.”

Beomgyu ran a hand through his hair, pacing around the room. “I don’t even know how to start.”

Huening leaned back, watching his best friend spiral. “Well, look at it this way: if you’re already thinking of telling her, you're in the right direction.”

“I want something memorable, you know?” Beomgyu muttered. “Something more… romantic. Something she won’t forget.”

Huening raised an eyebrow. “And you think a dramatic speech in the middle of the cafe is the answer?”

Beomgyu froze. “That... actually might work.”

“Wow, you really are whipped,” Huening said, sarcastically.

“I’m serious! I’ll walk in, tell her how I feel, and let her know how much she means to me. I’m going all in, no holding back,” Beomgyu said, determination lighting up his face.

Huening sighed, shaking his head dramatically. “Alright, but just so you know, you asked me for help. And when she swoons, don’t forget to tell Soobin I won the ‘Best Friend of the Month’ award.”

Beomgyu shot him a deadpan look. “I’ll make it happen. Thanks, Best Friend.”

“Could I get that in writing? You know, so Soobin doesn’t think I’m just making stuff up.”

Beomgyu’s heart pounded in his chest as he thought about it. Texting was out of the question. He’d have to make his feelings known the right way—face-to-face, just like in the movies. He was ready for this.

——

"Okay. You’ve got this, Beomgyu," he muttered to himself, giving himself a thumbs-up. "Just say something smooth... something charming. You’re Beomgyu, the irresistible coffee god. You can do this."

He looked around, making sure no one was watching, then smiled at his reflection in the window.

“Hey, I think you’re really cool, and I like you. Wait—no, that’s too casual. Let me try again.”

He put a hand to his chin dramatically, thinking for a moment.

"How about… ‘I think you're the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and I can’t stop thinking about you.’" He immediately cringed. "Nope, nope. That sounds fucking disgusting."

Just as he was about to try again, a voice from behind him interrupted.

“Dude, just go in,” Yeonjun said, raising an eyebrow as he walked up. He'd been watching from across the street for the past ten minutes, taking in Beomgyu's solo performance with mild amusement (and taking a couple of short videos to fill his stories with).

“Yeonjun! What the hell? You scared me!” Beomgyu jumped, heart leaping into his throat.

“Stop talking to yourself like a loser and just go in already. You’re getting weird looks from the store across us," Yeonjun scoffed. “Also, I’m pretty sure the entire neighborhood has seen your failed rehearsals by now.”

Beomgyu grimaced. “I just don’t want to mess it up, okay? I need to make it perfect.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “You’ve been here for 20 minutes and the only thing you’ve perfected is looking like a robber who's about to rob MY café. Get it together. It’s just a confession. You’re fine, she’s into you. Go!”

Beomgyu shot him a glare. “I’m not a robber, Yeonjun. I’m a man with feelings... and a very fragile ego.”

“Oh, please,” Yeonjun chuckled, pushing him toward the door. “If I had a dollar for every time someone said they were ‘fragile’ before a confession, I could buy this entire block. Just go in there and stop making it a bigger deal than it is.

Beomgyu hesitated for a moment, then turned to face the door of Junnie’s, which was now just a few steps away. He took a deep breath and shot Yeonjun a look that screamed ‘I’m regretting this already.’

“You’re really doing this,” Yeonjun said, an exaggerated smirk on his face. “Alright, Beomie, go make history.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Beomgyu sighed, taking a step toward the door. “I’m going... but if I faint in there, you’re taking the blame.”

With a last nervous glance at Yeonjun, Beomgyu shoved the door open. The bell above it jingled as he walked in, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, and that's when he found you behind the counter, waiting.

“Welcome to Junnie’s! How may I help you—Beomgyu? What are you doing here today?” you laughed, wiping your hands on your apron as you looked up from behind the counter.

Beomgyu leaned against the counter with a grin that could melt the coldest of hearts. “I came here to see you.”

You blinked, trying to process his words. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” he said, suddenly looking everywhere except at you. His hands were twitching like he was about to do a dance routine.

“Should I be on my break for this?” you asked, genuinely puzzled.

Beomgyu shook his head quickly, as if trying to shake off his nerves. “No, no. It’ll be quick. I think. Probably.”

You chuckled, unable to hide your confusion. “Okay, you’re acting like you’re about to tell me you robbed a bank or something. Is everything alright?”

Beomgyu froze for a second, his eyes wide. “I'm getting rid of this stupid black beanie tomorrow,” he muttered to himself, sighing.

Getting called a robber for the second time today wasn’t exactly on his to-do list.

“Then why are you sweating?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not sweating!” he replied, wiping his hands on his pants—clearly in denial. “Okay, maybe I'm a little nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” You genuinely didn’t understand, your head tilting to the side in bewilderment. “You’ve literally seen me like... a hundred times.”

“I just—” Beomgyu paused, and the silence between you two felt like forever. “Okay, maybe more than a hundred... but—”

“So, you’ve been nervous about seeing me a hundred times?” you asked, trying to piece it together.

“Definitely not,” Beomgyu said quickly, then muttered, “Well, kind of...”

“Okay, I’m lost,” you said, eyes wide, still trying to figure out why he was so flustered.

Beomgyu nodded, “Well…this is gonna be awkward, and I’m not really sure how to do this or what I’m supposed to say because I don’t want to ruin things between us—but, well, here it is.”

You immediately put your hands up, practically begging for mercy. “Oh, no, please don’t say it. Don’t say you’re not interested in me or anything like that, please.”

Beomgyu froze, looking absolutely panicked. “Huh?”

“Listen,” you said, starting to pace behind the counter like you were preparing for some dramatic monologue. “If you’re going to let me down easy, you don’t have to say anything. I know you’re not really into relationships, and I totally get it, okay? You’re the independent type. I respect that. Honestly, I wasn’t planning on doing anything crazy with my feelings. It’s all good, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Beomgyu’s face went from confused to deeply distressed. His eyes were wide, and his shoulders slumped as if someone had just stolen his favorite hoodie. “Wait, what? No! No, that’s not what I came here to say! I—”

You sighed dramatically, crossing your arms. “I mean, it’s okay. Yeonjun told me you weren’t interested in relationships. And hey, it’s fine. I’ll just stay in my lane and respect that you want to focus on… I don’t know… life, or being a free spirit or whatever. Like, I get it. I’m totally cool.”

Beomgyu blinked, frozen in place for a second, like you’d just dropped a bombshell on him. He quickly stepped forward, eyes wide with determination. “Hold on! That’s not— I’m not saying what you think!”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “Really? Because I’m getting the vibe you’re not, you know, in the relationship market. Like, at all.”

He inhaled deeply, as if trying to muster all his courage to say the right thing. “I swear, I came all the way down here to tell you something completely different. Look, if I’m being honest, I… I really like you. Like, really, really like you.”

Your jaw dropped. You were completely taken aback. “You… You like me?” you stammered, suddenly feeling all kinds of flustered.

Beomgyu nodded, looking at you like you were the most beautiful person in the entire world. “Yeah. I do. A lot. Like, so much that it’s kinda scary sometimes, but also really exciting. I’m not great with words and I’ve never been good at this, but… I want to try. I know I said that I’m not interested in relationships but I don’t know…with you it just seems easy. I like you. And I want to figure out whatever this is with you, if you’ll let me.”

There was a moment of silence, your heart racing from the sheer intensity of his words. And then, like a switch flipped, you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Wow, so all this time I was thinking I had to keep my feelings to myself..”

Beomgyu flushed red, looking both nervous and utterly adorable. “Well…you’re different.”

You leaned across the counter, smiling, as you finally met his eyes. “So, wait… does this mean you’re actually asking me out? Like, for real?”

Beomgyu’s face lit up, nodding expectantly, “ Yes. I want to take you out. If you’ll let me.”

You grinned, your heart doing little flips. “Well, that’s a relief, because you’ve been driving me crazy. And I was starting to think I was gonna have to ask you out first. But of course, I wouldn’t, y’know, the whole off-the-market thing did catch me off guard at first.”

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Well, a cute guy like you—who’s charming and funny—charms my ass off and apparently is off the market. Huge bummer, no?” You leaned forward slightly, making your playful tone even more obvious, but a hint of real affection crept through.

Beomgyu chuckled, his smile wide and warm. “Well, you’re in luck, because I’m officially back on the market.”

Your smile widened even more. “Hopefully not for long,” you teased, winking at him. “I’m a go-getter.”

“Oh really?” Beomgyu’s grin was teasing as he leaned just a little bit closer, eyes locked with yours. “Weren’t you the one who just said you’d respect it if I wanted to be independent?”

Your chest tightened, the playful back-and-forth somehow turning into something more serious. “Do you?”

He took another step forward, practically in your personal space now. His voice softened, but the warmth in his eyes was undeniable. “Not if it means I can’t go out with you.” 

You felt the space between you both shrink with every second. He was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath just barely brushing your skin. The intensity of the moment wrapped around you both as your eyes flickered between his lips and his eyes, unsure whether it was the right moment to do what he wanted to.

Then, just as Beomgyu’s hand was hovering almost instinctively near your arm, his head slightly tilting to get a better angle, the door to the café swung open with a sharp "ding!" and Yeonjun walked in, looking around casually until his eyes landed on the scene unfolding in front of him.

“Oh no, no, no,” Yeonjun groaned loudly, immediately striding over. “Beomgyu, you’re not even supposed to be here. It’s not your shift. You’re killing the vibe. Like, really killing it.” He grabbed Beomgyu by the shoulder and pulled him away, literally lifting him off the ground as if he were a rag doll. “C’mon, man. Move it. You’re ruining the whole romantic café ambiance with all this sexual tension. Get outta here.”

Beomgyu sputtered, his face going bright red. “I wasn’t— I mean, we were—”

“Yeah, I know exactly what you were doing,” Yeonjun interrupted, giving him a smirk. “And I’m putting an end to it before things get too heated in here. Don’t think I didn’t see those looks. You two are about two seconds away from having an impromptu makeout session right in front of all the customers.” He turned to you with a grin. “No offense, but you’re about to turn this café into something disgusting, and I can’t handle that right now.”

“There’s only one customer!” 

“And he has two eyes!” 

You tried to hide your grin but failed miserably as you watched Beomgyu attempt to protest while being dragged out. “Fine, fine, I’ll go,” Beomgyu grumbled. “But you’re not getting rid of me for good.” He shot you one last flirty smile before Yeonjun practically shoved him out the door.

You stood there, stunned and flustered, trying to regain your composure as the moment you thought might just happen slipped away. As Beomgyu’s laughter faded down the street, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. Yeonjun shot you an apologetic look. “I know, I know, I’m a buzzkill. But don’t worry. Knowing how annoying he is, he’ll probably be back in a couple of minutes.”

You shook your head, grinning despite yourself. “He’s lucky you stopped him, or I’d have kissed him right there.”

Yeonjun’s grin was full of mischief. “Why do you think I stopped the both of you?”

[jjunberry]

txt! and the pink ribbons

pairing! txt x reader

genre! fluff, hints of smut, some humor

synopsis! you ask your boyfriend if you could tie a pink ribbon on him

wc! 400

soobin! giggled as you put the ribbon around his wrist. you grinned taking the two pieces and tying them into a bow. his eyes followed your actions. when you finished he lifted his hand up the ribbon making a makeshift bracelet. “cute baby, but why my wrist?” he asked. you smiled taking his hand into yours. “because your hands are a gift.” you laughed when he blushed. “i didn’t know you enjoyed them that much.”

yeonjun! smirked when you brought up the idea. he agreed which prompted a squeal of happiness from you. you cut a piece of ribbon for around his arm. “baby that’s not long enough.” you furrowed your eyebrows when he cut a longer piece and wrapped it around his waist. “go on and tie it.” he smirked. your cheeks felt warm but you obeyed tying the pink ribbon around his waist into a bow.

beomgyu! laid back and watched you at work. you had come running into the room with a piece of pink ribbon. quick to grab his hand. he watched as you took his middle and ring finger and tied the pink ribbon around them with a bow. “babe if you wanted me to finger you all you had to do was ask..” he held his fingers up and winked. you smacked his chest but couldn’t hide how flustered he made you.

taehyun! has honestly been waiting for this. he rolled his sleeve up the moment you walked in holding a piece of ribbon. you grinned and straddled his lap. tying the ribbon was difficult. “hyunie stop flexing.” you groaned when the ribbon unfolded. “i’m not.” he giggled. you sighed tying the ribbon again just slightly tighter. “ouch baby no need to get rough.” he laughed.

hueningkai! was expecting you to use his arm or hand. he was surprised when you took ribbon and wrapped it around his upper body. his arms were to his sides as you finished the bow. “awe my sweet boy! all wrapped up like the gift he is.” he couldn’t help the blush. “okay, okay now let me go.” you giggled and freed him from the ribbon.

masterlist

tag list! @304files @jjunieworld

author’s note! okay but i’m obsessed with coquette boys

love, echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

© jjunberry

[gyorouis]

── ✦ the art of almost.

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⋆ synopsis⸝⸝ late nights, in his bed. this is more than enough, you tell yourself.

꒰ genre⸝⸝ angst, suggestive, fwb/fubu, pairing⸝⸝ fwb!beomgyu x afab!reader wc⸝⸝ 1.8k warning⸝⸝ mature scenes, slightly inspired from nevertheless so u alr know what beomgyu is like tune in⸝⸝ kimmuseum — we’re already ୨ৎ ꒱

the rain fell in sheets, painting the city in blurred hues of gray and amber. the faint glow of streetlights danced in the puddles, a soft melody of footsteps and whispered conversations accompanying the night. you weren’t supposed to be here, standing in front of a dimly lit art studio, heart hammering against your ribs.

but beomgyu was waiting inside.

you hesitated, the chill of the rain sinking into your skin. your umbrella hung useless at your side. it wasn’t the weather keeping you rooted in place; it was him. the boy who smiled like he knew every secret the world had to offer, who touched the edges of your carefully constructed walls and made them tremble.

the boy you weren’t supposed to fall for.

pushing the door open, the scent of oil paint and turpentine greeted you, warm and familiar. beomgyu looked up from his canvas, a lazy grin spreading across his face as if he’d been expecting you all along.

“you’re late,” he said, his voice carrying that teasing lilt that always made your heart stumble.

“didn’t realize this was an appointment,” you shot back, shrugging off your jacket. the studio was sparsely lit, the only source of light a single desk lamp casting golden shadows across the room.

“it’s always an appointment when it’s you,” he replied, leaning back on his stool. his gaze lingered on you, dark and unreadable, like he was sketching invisible lines around you, locking you in place.

you avoided his eyes, wandering toward the half-finished painting he was working on. a riot of colors swirled on the canvas, messy and deliberate all at once. it reminded you of him—chaotic, beautiful, impossible to pin down.

“is this supposed to be something?” you asked, tilting your head.

he hummed, stepping closer. too close. “maybe it’s nothing. or maybe it’s everything. depends on how you look at it.”

you felt his presence behind you, his breath warm against your temple. every nerve in your body screamed to move, but you stayed still, your pulse betraying you.

“you’re avoiding me again,” he murmured, his voice low.

“i’m not,” you lied.

“you are.” he moved around you, leaning against the table, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “you always do this. get close, then run.”

“and you always chase,” you snapped, hating the way your voice trembled.

he smiled, a soft, wistful curve of his lips. “maybe i like the chase.”

silence fell between you, heavy with words left unsaid. the rain drummed against the windows, a steady rhythm that matched the wild beat of your heart. you looked at him, really looked, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just him—the boy with paint-stained hands and a gaze that saw too much.

“what do you want from me, beomgyu?” you asked, the words barely above a whisper.

his expression shifted, something raw and unguarded flashing across his face. “you already know.”

you shook your head, stepping back. “i can’t—”

“you can,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “you’re just scared.”

“of what?” you demanded, your frustration boiling over.

he didn’t answer right away. instead, he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, tentative and electric. “of how easy this could be. of how much you already feel.”

your breath hitched, the truth of his words cutting through your defenses. you wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered, made it impossible.

“why me?” you asked, your voice breaking.

he smiled again, softer this time. “because you’re the only one who makes the world quiet.”

the confession hung between you, fragile and undeniable. you didn’t know who moved first, but suddenly he was closer, his forehead resting against yours. his hand cradled your face, thumb brushing away the stray raindrop clinging to your cheek.

“tell me to stop,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

you couldn’t.

and then he kissed you—soft and slow, like he was unraveling every fear you’d ever held onto. his lips tasted like rain and everything you’d been too afraid to want. the world tilted, colors blooming in the dark, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself fall.

when you pulled away, his eyes searched yours, his hand still warm against your cheek. “stay,” he said, the single word heavy with meaning.

you hesitated, the weight of reality pressing down on you. but as you looked at him, standing there with paint-stained fingers and a heart wide open, you realized something.

maybe falling wasn’t so bad after all.

the first time you slept in the same bed, it was as if you both had entered a new world. the air between you was thick with unspoken things—things neither of you were ready to admit. but your bodies were tired, and the warmth of the sheets made the distance between you feel smaller, softer. you lay on your sides, the soft rhythm of his breathing mingling with yours. every time his hand brushed yours, it was like the universe was reminding you of how close you’d become, how much this moment meant, even if you couldn’t say it out loud.

most nights, the two of you found solace in silence. not the uncomfortable kind that demanded words to fill the space, but the kind that wrapped itself around you both like a warm blanket. the kind that made you feel like you could exist, just be, without needing to explain yourself.

one of those nights, you lay with your head resting on his chest. his heartbeat was a steady, calming rhythm beneath you, but you couldn’t ignore the thoughts swirling in your mind. beomgyu’s fingers absentmindedly brushed through your hair, the gentle touch doing little to settle the storm inside you.

“you’re quiet tonight,” he murmured, his voice low and soft, as if he were afraid to disturb the peace that hung in the air.

you shifted slightly, eyes focused on the way his shirt wrinkled under your head. “i’m always quiet.”

“not true,” he teased, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your back. “you’re only quiet when you’re thinking about something. so, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

you let out a small sigh. “nothing. just... thinking.”

beomgyu propped himself up on one elbow, his face casting a soft shadow in the dim light of his room. “you know you can talk to me, right? whatever it is, i can handle it.”

you looked up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. you wanted to believe him, to let your walls crumble and spill out every little thing that had been gnawing at you. but something held you back. something about how easy it was for him to pull you in, to make you feel like maybe you were just a little bit too vulnerable.

“maybe I'm just... scared,” you whispered, as much to yourself as to him. “scared of what this is. of what we are.”

he didn’t say anything at first. instead, he shifted, brushing his lips against your forehead, lingering there longer than usual. it was a comfort, but it also left a sting, an unspoken tension hanging in the air.

“you don’t have to be scared,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would shatter the fragile moment. “i’m not going anywhere.”

but you couldn’t help but feel that he might be the one who needed reassurance, not you. because all these moments, all this tenderness between you, felt too fleeting, too fragile to hold onto forever.

the next night, the quiet was replaced with something else. laughter. you were tangled in his sheets, both of you halfway between sleep and waking, his body warm against yours. somehow, in the midst of your usual banter, you’d both ended up in a tangled mess of limbs. his arm was draped lazily over your waist, your head tucked into the crook of his neck.

“you know,” he started, his voice a little muffled, “i don’t think you’ve ever actually admitted it.”

“admitted what?” you mumbled, sleepiness thick in your voice.

“that i'm right,” he said, his words slurring slightly with the haze of exhaustion. “about everything. you know, all those times i’ve been right and you’ve been wrong. i mean, it’s obvious i’ve been the genius all along.”

you snorted softly, trying to suppress a laugh. “beomgyu, you’re impossible.”

he grinned, his lips brushing your temple as he shifted, leaning in to press a playful kiss to your cheek. “come on. admit it. i’m always right, even when i’m wrong.”

“no,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “you're just lucky.”

“lucky? lucky?” he repeated with mock offense, his hand trailing up to your shoulder, giving it a playful shove. “i’m a genius. a lucky genius.”

you laughed, your face flushing from both the closeness and the absurdity of the conversation. the sound of it—of the ease between you two—made your heart ache in a way that was both painful and comforting. you were right where you wanted to be, and yet it still didn’t feel like enough.

there was something bittersweet in his words, a playfulness that veiled something deeper. you weren’t sure if it was a defense mechanism, something that kept him from giving too much of himself away, or if he genuinely didn’t want to face the deeper feelings that tied you both together.

“you’re impossible,” you whispered again, settling back into the pillow.

“i know.” he kissed the top of your head. “but i’m your impossible.”

he wasn’t perfect. neither were you. but in these quiet nights, in the tangled sheets and the tangled silence, you felt like maybe that was enough. and for just a moment, you let yourself believe it. that maybe, he was yours too.

on the nights when the city was quiet, when the world outside was nothing more than a distant hum, you found yourself pressed into his side, your body fitting against his like two halves of a whole. he would kiss the top of your head, his lips warm against your hair, and you would pretend not to notice the way your heartbeat a little faster each time.

you never voiced it, not aloud. and he never acknowledged it either. instead, your bodies settled into the rhythm of shared space—his arm around your waist, your head on his chest, the quiet hum of the city outside the window serving as your only reminder that there was a world beyond the cocoon of the bed you shared.

each night, you fell asleep beside him, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to ignore the nagging fear that one day, he’d be gone. that you’d wake up and he wouldn’t be there. but for now, you let the warmth of his body be your anchor, letting go of the fear and holding onto the only thing that mattered: the present.

and for now, that was enough. but underneath it all, there was always that quiet undercurrent—what if this ends?

gyo's note: oh yes, i’ve been looking for fwb beoms and i can’t find any so yeah i made one, and actually (i have 2 more of these beomgyu hehe) if you made it to this part, thank you so much! you will be loved. xoxo!

✮ 2024 gyozies, all rights reserved.

[jongsungs]

boyfriend texts with beomgyu

♱ genre fluff, beomgyu x f!reader

♱ tw none :)

♱ please do not share or plagiarise my work on any other platforms except tumblr, and reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

a/n: i haven’t been active in like over a year or smthn i’m so sorry idek if this is gna get any motion but i miss being on here

ⓒ jongsungs 2k24

[hyukascampfire]

LET IT SNOW! ⋅ ´- c.bg

choi beomgyu and you are best at one thing: getting on yeonjun's nerves. going out for a snowball fight on the first winter snow, he has the perfect plan. ‧ׅ ˚

៹ ۪ ´ ㅤㅤ꒰ 🕊️ ꒱ ･ 1.9k

ᰍairings ˒ crush!beomgyu x reader ft. ot5

ᧁ ; fluff

ωarnings ˒ nothing but tooth rotting fluff and friends pining over each other

✎୭ ashlynn's note im so sorry this one came out so late guys omg. i woke up late and had to rewrite some >.< @hmusunoo HERE U GO BABYYY

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

The front of the car is a bustle of the boys all trying to speak over each other, their voices twisting up with the Christmas station. Yeonjun grips the wheel white-knuckled—he’s the only one that’d volunteered to drive on the glazed roads. The little park where you head isn’t too far, though, so you think you’ll be fine. 

You hope you will be, anyway. The shouting and chaos that would fall over the car should the wheels lose traction and send you slipping… he’s got the car at the slowest crawl, but you can hear it now.

The moment Soobin had suggested a snowball fight, you all had tugged on puffy layers and two layers of socks. Throwing compacted balls of powdery snow at each other’s faces is worlds more interesting than sitting around and watching the snowfall from the windows, anyway. And, you had the perfect place for it. 

When it came time to file into the car, you offered to climb into the back. The heater blasts right onto you here, and you intend to soak up every last moment of it before the cold bites. You’d tugged your seatbelt out and locked it into place with a click.

Lifting your gaze, your heart did a little flutter to find Beomgyu in the seat beside you. He’s bundled up in a black puffer. Having zipped it all the way up to the collar, it stands stiff and presses into the soft round edge of his cheeks when he turns his head to send you a cheeky smile.

It’s not that you’re uncomfortable or awkward with him. You’re just as close to him as the others. For whatever reason, though, whenever you get little moments like these, where it’s just the two of you… You fluster.

Looking into his soft brown eyes is even hard now, so you opt for watching the snow piles and glistening rooftops pass the windows by. Yesterday there had been nothing there, and now there’s a layer shin-high wherever it hasn’t been plowed off. This is your favorite time of the year—you wish it snowed more often. You suppose, though, that because it doesn’t, the serenity and stillness of days like this are more special. 

Kai and you had been the first up. Just when morning had cracked over the sky, clear and pale and wintry, you’d found each other in the kitchen with sleep-tossed hair and droopy eyes. It didn’t take more than a glance outside to know that the weather apps hadn’t lied—the air on a snowy morning just looks different. It’s silver and as crisp on the eyes as it is on the lungs. His voice had been still thick with sleep when he’d said, “Snowman?”

Of course, you wanted to build a snowman. Still in rumpled pajamas, you two drug yourselves out there, stepping around in the snow a little just to hear it crunch underfoot, and then got to work. The snowman ended up faceless and only garnished with a thick, waxy leaf poking out from the top of his head like an antenna. When you stepped back to look at it, Kai had snorted and said, “If that thing ever gained consciousness, we’d be the first people it kills.”

You fiddle with your woolen gloves, and then decide on just tugging them off. It’s toasty enough in the confines of the car; you’ll just tug them back on when you get out.

A nudge at your side has you looking up to Beomgyu. You raise a curious eyebrow at the look on his face—the corners of his lips pulled up into a sneaky grin and the shine of something playful in his eyes.

He leans toward you, the warm scent of him all woody and vanilla sweet in the car’s hot air. Keeping his voice low, a secret just between the two of you back here, he says, “I have an idea.”

An idea could mean anything, coming from him. Especially with that look in his eye. You take a look over the front of the car. It’s as loud as ever up there. Yeonjun and Soobin in the front talk awfully aggressively about something that doesn’t reach your ears, though you’re sure it’s got something to do with Yeonjun’s driving if Soobin’s wide eyes are a hint. Yeonjun’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror with a roll. The middle row isn’t as loud as the front, but Taehyun and Kai still are into their conversation enough to not hear what he has to say. The two of them sit at the window seats, talking over the empty middle seat between them. 

You wonder why Beomgyu took this one, in the cramped back seat where your soft thigh presses against his, rather than that one. The climb out of here is pretty annoying, too. The seats don’t go down, so you have to climb over headrests and duck under the car’s fabric ceiling.

“Hmm?” you say, deciding that his secret is safe enough back here.

His smile turns shit-eating. He leans closer, saying, “Want to piss Yeonjun off?”

You’re always down for that. Beomgyu is, too. If there’s anything Yeonjun fears most in the world, it’s to see the two of you snickering off in the corner and exchanging secret words. Most times, you don’t even have to plan it; all it takes is a sharing of a glance and raise of your brows, and you know you’re thinking the same thing.

“What are you gonna do?” you whisper back. The smile that tugs at your mouth is beyond your control—it comes to you just at the sight of his. 

He sends a glance toward the front of the car. “If the both of us only hit him…”

It’s no different from any other nagging thing you put the poor guy through, but it’ll entertain you every time. “Got it,” you say, nose wrinkling as you try to keep your laugh down.

The car comes to a stop. From your window, the expanse of the field you’ve come to turn into a warzone is brushed over with last night’s snow blast. Opened doors let a frozen, curling air in. You share one last knowing look with Beomgyu before crawling out yourself. If you don’t get out fast enough, you’ll become victim to whoever has gotten out fast enough to smush up a snowball just for you.

Flying straight and purposeful through the air, the first one does not hit you, though. It explodes into white powder and a thousand little crystal snowflakes over Beomgyu’s face, clinging to the wispy bits of the hair that falls over his eyes and all down the front of him. You don’t even know which direction it came from. He blinks it off his lashes and lets his mouth hang open for a few moments, before dropping down to the snow to build one in retaliation.

Everything devolves after that. Snow flies in arcs through the air, crashing over shoulders and into the backs of whoever’s dumb enough to turn their back. Barked laughs and shrieks break the morning’s peace. You dodge and dart, taking an awful hunk of snow to the thigh. Letting out a shrill sound, utterly unconcerned with whoever might be asleep in the houses across the street, you shoot a glare at a proud Soobin. He forms another in between his gloves, but you have a mission. 

Beomgyu’s already landed a few on Yeonjun. You squat to roll a few and come up with one, keeping a few more misshapen chunks of snow that could hardly be called a snowball in the nook of your arm at the ready. The first skims just by the side of his head, but the next crumbles against his chest, and each one after that ends.

Off from another end of the field, made a mess with your footsteps cutting the pristine surface and the piles you’ve left on top of it, Beomgyu folds with a laugh. From your peripherals, a few of the boys shout and the scattering of a snowball tells you that somebody’s been hit hard, but all you can hear is his laugh. All you can see is the pink on his cheeks and the crinkling at the corners of his eyes.

Alliances form and a thousand snowballs are thrown, and only when Beomgyu lands a hit right at the back of Yeonjun’s head just after yours crashes against the fabric of his jacket does he realize.

“What the hell?” he spits, lips tugged down in a frown and his brows shot up to his forehead.

You cover your mouth with a soaked glove, but Beomgyu doesn’t cut his laugh. Your snort comes tumbling past the fabric as Yeonjun shakes his head and points at the two of you, laughing dangerously.

For the rest of that morning, with numb fingers and thighs sore from running, you and Beomgyu’s fates were sealed, dodging Yeonjun’s angry and pointed throws. At some point, you duck behind Beomgyu, using the width of his shoulders to escape a ball in Yeonjun’s hand with your name written on it.

Only when all of you are panting and have to drag your limbs, do you drag yourselves homeward. The car’s heater doesn’t warm up quick enough—when you step into the door, treading snow still stuck on the bottom of your boots through the entrance, the air still prickles and nips at your numbed cheeks. You peel layers of your clothes from your skin, soaked where snow had gotten caught and melted against your body heat. Tugging your shoes off was the worst; you wiggle your toes a few times just to make sure you can still move them.

Stuffing yourselves into clothes so warm that you’ll probably all be changing as soon as your bodies return to their normal temperatures, you all sprawl over the couch. Somebody snatches the remote up and clicks through a collection of Christmas classics, but at Taehyun’s insistence, you land on Christmas Vacation.

The couch is solid and warm against your back, the floor hard against your bottom. You had taken the longest to change and scarf a few candy canes down, and each seat had been occupied when you came to join their lounging. You don’t mind much—from here, you can better look at the Christmas tree and try to narrow your eyes down on which presents beneath it are yours. Kai had insisted that nobody snoops.

Beomgyu slips down beside you before the movie starts. He’s warm up against you; you’re not sure how. You’re just getting feeling back in the tips of your fingers. On his mouth, he plays a soft and easy smile, catching your eyes though you want to flounder under his attention.

Leaning toward you once more, just as he had in the car, he whispers, “Did you see his face?”

You share a quiet giggle with him, pressing your head into the fabric of his knitted sweater on his shoulder. “Yeah,” you say. “He makes it too easy…”

It wasn’t the look on Yeonjun’s face that you remember best, though. Captured in the morning light, all you had seen was the pink of Beomgyu’s cheeks and the mischievous glint there, and all you had felt was the way that it settled over your longing heart like how the fireplace warms you now.

You hope that he had been looking at you, too.

﹙⋞ ﹚... back to the 𝓂asterlist

✎୭ ashlynn's note they're so cute i need them to kiss and cuddle and love each other

﹙📋﹚ @hmusunoo , @izzyy-stuff , @beomiracles , @joycelyjjj , @sunoolver , @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @apeachty , @fandomtrashsblog , @bewitchless , @yezzns2 , @hhoneyhan , @ethystclove , @darkdayelixer , @calumcxke , @biteyoubiteme , @bamgeutsz , @soobabby , @little-shiny-starr , @bambammtori , @bunniebun-posted , @heeambi , @bunnisoobin , @hwanghyunjinismybae , @bakugosbottombitch , @304files , @cherricola-star , @lickingan0rchid , @ashistrashhhhhh , @no1likemybbgcharlie , if your tag isn't working, check the mentions part of your settings!

[izzyy-stuff]

𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 - 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔

bf!Beomgyu x fem!reader

in which Beomgyu never liked kids much. At least, until he met you and your little siblings. You were the reason he realized kids might not be as bad. It got him thinking, that maybe love can really change a person.

wc 2.4k

warnings a lot of kissing, making-out, reader has two younger siblings, established relationship, pet names, cringe-ly cute, some suggestive content I guess??

↪ izzy speaks... I am such a sucker for fluff why did I not write one in so long omg T-T. This is actually nothing new either and you can find it on my wattpad acc as it's originally been written for it. But this version has some small edits and also is written for x reader unlike the one on wp as I use my ocs there. But yeah, that's for behind the scenes of this one shot loll

“What are you still doing, love?” The brown-haired boy leaned over the counter, obviously bored already. “Your shift ended twenty minutes ago. Come on,” he whined, flashing you his best puppy eyes, pouting his lips a bit, but it only made you chuckle. When he saw you laugh, his smile dropped, and dramatically flopped down on the counter, his head resting right next to your arms.

You had to smile as you ran your fingers through his hair. “Alright, alright, let's go then,” you whispered, locking the cash register. The male jumped up, immediately full of energy again. “You’re just a tall kid, Gyu,” you shook your head at him, taking your bag so you could leave.

“No, I am not,” he argued, his hand reaching over to snatch your bag. “Would a kid take care of you like I do?” He grinned proudly. “Yes, in fact, my brother takes better care of me than you do,” you teased, letting him take the bag as you walked around the counter to him. “I’m kidding. You know you’re amazing,” you assured him, linking your arm with his. You knew better than to tease him for too long. He might even decide to go home alone if you continued. “Of course I am,” he rolled his eyes jokingly.

“Never mind, I don't want you to come over anymore,” You proclaimed, stepping away from him to prove your point. “I would much rather listen to Mina talk about her favorite clothes.”

Beomgyu fake gasped at your statement, grabbing your hand before you could stray further away from him. “You don't mean that.”

You shrugged, “Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Who knows.”

“I know. You love spending time with me,” Beomgyu stated, pulling you back. He wrapped his arm around your waist, leaning closer to place his lips on yours. You had to smile again when he did so. He was right. You loved spending time with him more than anything else.

“I love you, Gyu,” you whispered against his lips the moment you pulled away, causing a smile to spread on his face. “I love you too, baby.”

“Cutie,” you mumbled, slowly rereleasing his hand. “I’m going to tell my manager I‘m leaving. Wait here.”

“Will do, ma'am,” he said, saluting. You giggled at him, making him quickly burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry you had to wait for so long,” your manager walked back with you right next to her. Beomgyu just shook his head, saying it was okay. “Next time, just come tell me she refuses to leave work. I'll send her home so you two can go on a date,” she laughed, and you rolled your eyes. Gyu laughed, too, nodding. “It's fine. At least we’re leaving now,” he smiled, waiting for you to approach him so that the two of you could finally go.

♡⸝⸝

“Stop doing something all the time,” Beomgyu pouted again, watching you move around the room from his spot on your bed. For some reason, you found cleaning up your room more interesting than lying down next to him, and he wasn't a big fan of that. “But it's a mess,” you looked at him, a shirt in one of your hands and a book in the other. “I forgot to clean before you came, and I regret it now.”

“Love.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, sighing. “I know, I know. I just... I’m still not used to anyone except for my family seeing how messy I am just yet,” you admitted, walking to your table to place the stuff aside.

You approached your bed again, sitting down next to your boyfriend. Beomgyu sat up too, taking your hands in his. “You've seen how my room looks. There are clothes everywhere, and most of them aren't even mine! I don't care at all what your room looks like. I only care about you. So stop doing other things all the time and come watch the movie with me,” he shook your hands, making you laugh. “Thank you, Gyu,” you smiled, kissing him on the cheek. He smiled too, immediately stealing a kiss from you as he pulled you into a hug.

Somehow, your plan to watch a movie together turned into a makeout session instead. You were sitting on your boyfriend's lap, your hands around his neck, playing with his hair while he placed kisses and marks on your neck, his hands wandering across your hips and back. 

“I told you not to leave marks,” you complained, but honestly, you couldn't love what he was doing more. Even though you didn't want him to place marks on visible places because you didn't want to mask them up, you still fell in love with him a bit more every time he did.

“Mhm,” he mumbled but didn't stop kissing you. “But they look so pretty on you, beauty,” he proclaimed, leaving your neck for a second so he could kiss your lips again. “Beauty,” you repeated after him, smiling into the kiss. “I love it when you call me that.”

As Beomgyu placed his lips on yours, pulling you closer by your hips, the door swung open, making you pull away from your boyfriend. “Oh gosh, get your own room if you want to be all over your boyfriend,” Mina, your younger sister, frowned. She regretted not knocking immediately. “You’re home already?” Your eyes widened before you got off your boyfriend, sitting beside him awkwardly.

“Yeah, we ended sooner, so I picked up Sang too. It would help if you had told me you were bringing Gyu over. I would have knocked,” she sighed, throwing her bag on her bed on the other side of the room. “I, uhm, am going to help Sang change and...I guess we'll watch something,” she proclaimed, hesitating as she watched the two of you. Mina wasn't sure what to do. Her original idea was to run away as soon as possible and leave you two alone, but the more she looked at you, the more she got the feeling that it didn't matter anymore. It looked like she ruined your mood completely already.

“Thanks, Mina,” You smiled slightly at her, embarrassed. “We'll join you in a minute,” you assured her. “You don't have to,” Mina panicked again, getting embarrassed too. It wasn't like she did anything wrong. It was her room, too, but she still felt bad. “Don't worry about it, Mina, we'll be there right away,” Beomgyu smiled at her, trying to make her more at ease.

“I guess I'll see you later then,” she nodded, awkwardly glancing towards the door. “Yeah, this is weird. Have fun..., I guess?” She didn't even wait for your answer before walking out of the room again, closing the door behind herself as fast as possible.

You screwed your eyes shut, sighing. You rested your head on Beomgyu's shoulder, not saying anything as you looked at Mina's bed. The brown-haired male chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist and resting his head on yours. “She isn't a kid anymore, you know. This probably isn't the first time she has seen people make out.”

“I just keep getting reminded that I need to get my own apartment.”

He didn't say anything to it, but a smile appeared on his face as soon as he heard your words. You gave him the perfect opportunity to finally talk about what he was meaning to mention for weeks now.

“But I don't want to live alone. I don't even know how to do that anymore. It's been fifteen years since I had my room, after all,” You sighed again. “And I would miss them too much.”

“Well,” he started, sitting up properly again, making you raise your head to look at him, a curious look on your face. “You don't need to live alone,” he stated. It didn't take much longer for you to figure out what he was talking about. You weren't dumb at all, and he knew that, so he was sure you would understand him without him having to say much, but somehow, knowing that you knew what he was talking about made him more nervous.

“Are you suggesting something, Mr. Choi?” You grinned, teasing him.

“I am,” he nodded confidently. “Find an apartment with me. I am tired of having Soobin's clothes everywhere I look,” he joked, making you chuckle.

“You want to move in with me?”

“More than anything,” he assured you, taking your hand. “I don't need anything big. All I want is to be with you.”

You couldn't control your smile no matter how much you tried to. Leaning closer, you pressed your lips against his. “Let's find something then,” you whispered against his lips as you pulled away. He smiled too, nodding before he got up, still holding your hand, pulling you along with him.

“You don't need to spend your afternoon with my little siblings,” you reminded him, not letting go of his hand. “I know this isn't how you imagine your Friday night to go.”

“Nothing is more fun than spending time with you. It doesn't matter to me if it's just the two of us or your little siblings too. You love them, and so do I.”

“You’re the best,” you smiled again, walking out of the room with him by your side.

The two of you got to the living room, and you immediately walked over to your little brother, going to hug him and say hi. Mina stepped back when she noticed you so she wouldn't be in the way. She glanced at the older male, mouthing a quick sorry before walking to him.

“You wanna go sit down and rest for a while?” He suggested, his eyes pointing at the dining table. The teenage girl nodded to him, glancing at her two siblings once more before walking away with him.

“Sorry, Gyu. I really didn't know you were coming over today,” she sighed, sitting down. He shook his head again, telling her it was okay. “I am the one who should be sorry. I probably should have locked the door,” he laughed it off, making a laugh escape her lips too. “That suits you way more,” he smiled proudly, and Mina had to roll her eyes. “I don't want to hear it. No speeches about me having to smile more today, got it?”

“Alright, alright. But you can still tell me about school today,” Beomgyu prodded her, and she had to sigh. Somehow, he was exactly like you when it came to this. She could see he cared about her as if she were his sister. It always made her appreciate him.

“Well, and what about you?” Mina asked when she finished her part. “Did you finally get the courage to ask her?”

“I did,” he admitted, his lips curving into a smile again. “She agreed, but I still feel like she will ask you for your opinion right when I leave.”

“Don't worry, I'll tell her living with you will be her best decision ever,” Mina chuckled. “I am the one who encouraged you to ask her in the first place, after all.”

“Yeah, you're the greatest younger sister.”

“Thanks,” she grinned proudly. “We should get back now, though. She is your date, not me.” He nodded, glancing over at you before standing up again. “Let's have a Monopoly night!” He called, smiling widely.

You finally took your eyes off your little brother and looked his way, beaming when you noticed him. “We're gonna play games,” you smiled at your brother again, laughing at how his whole face lit up. “I want to play with Beomgyu!” He yelled immediately, almost tripping when he jumped from the couch to run to him.

“You don't even need to do anything, and you're still their favorite,” you sighed, shaking your head. “It's another one of my charms,” he grinned confidently, picking Sang up when he ran to him. “I bet me being good with kids turns you on.”

“Get a room already,” Mina nudged his shoulder, rolling her eyes.

“We will, but monopoly first,” he answered, sticking his tongue out at her, acting like a little kid again. The four-year-old in his arms laughed, copying the male and sticking out his tongue at his sister too.

“That's not my fault,” Beomgyu said in defense when he noticed your warning look, holding back his laugh.

♡⸝⸝

After a few hours, when your parents got back home from work, you and Beomgyu disappeared into your room again, leaving the rest of your family alone in the living room.

“You didn't even like kids when we first met,” you said, sitting on his lap again, just staring into his eyes. He just shrugged. “I guess one changes a person.”

“You didn't like me either when we first met, and look at us now,” he reminded you, making you roll your eyes. “Well, you were a stranger hitting on me while I was just trying to do my job back then. And you didn't know what ‘no’ meant.”

“Because I knew you would end up falling for me.”

You had to shake your head at his confidence, but you couldn't disagree. You did fall for him. You loved him more than anyone you had dated before, and you had been dating a few people before. He was just different, better.

“I’m glad you never gave up on me, even when you had to go through rejection many times,” you told him, fixing his hair. “You definitely knew better than me back then,” you admitted with a slight smile.

That much was enough for Beomgyu to want to steal a kiss from you again. He pulled you closer to himself and pressed his lips on yours, his smile growing wider when he heard you giggle. He wrapped his hands around your waist, hugging you as you placed your hands on his shoulders, closing your eyes as you kissed him back.

“Now imagine how many of those kisses you can get once we move in together,” he whispered against your lips, grinning when he saw you lean closer again, announcing it wasn't over yet.

Your lips were swollen already, but you didn't mind anymore. You didn't care. All you wanted at the moment was to continue kissing him, so you did. You were going to kiss him for as long as you could.

“I love you so much,” You mumbled against his lips when you had to pull away to catch your breath.

“I love you more, beauty,” he answered, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath landing on your lips. “More than anything.”

⋆✶ izzy's tags @beomiracles @seoulzie @adel222 @inkigayocamman @flowzel @virgo-and-libra @love-be0m ✶⋆ want to get notified? join taglist here!

[itaehynz]

three’s a choi charm! ♡

PAIRING: choi line x fem!reader.

GENRE: socmed + written

CONTENTS: summer romance, choi line are cousins, taehyun and hueka are y/n’s bestfriends + others, multiple endings, written chaps, slice of life, fluff, angst, comedy, nonidol!au, reader is mingyu’s younger sister, jungkook is choi line’s older cousin, what would this be w/o profanity, . . .

SUMMARY: school’s out and it’s time for summer! also known as the ‘hottest season of the year’ so in hopes of finding a hot, potential soulmate, you go on tinder and match with three people! who shall you end up with in the end?

AUTHOR’S NOTE: a new smau!!!! woohoo!!!! choi line falling in love w/ reader & doing everything to get them, whew. there’s going to be endings where you end up with each member so don’t worry about that! i hope you all enjoy this one :D

STATUS . . . on hold! (taglist: open!)

SCHEDULE . . . mondays, wednesdays, fridays @ 1:30pm est!

FEAT . . . rest of TXT, LE SSERAFIM’s Yunjin, ITZY’s Ryujin, ATEEZ’s Wooyoung, ENHYPEN‘s Heeseung, BTS’ Jungkook, SVT’s Mingyu!

PROFILES: lost causes | got dat dawg in me ⁉️ | older bros

01. like a virgin | 02. omega gyat ohio rizz | 03. under no circumstances whatsoever. | 04. are you fucking kidding | 05. who is this | 06. it’s like a man and a woman had a baby! | 07. the ‘L word’ | 08. do they know? | 09. kiss me plz | 10. i STRONGLY disagree | 11. you’re so not omega for that | 12. let’s run away (with rizz) | 13. yucky day | 14. she ain’t my baby | 15. you apologize? | 16. cute dimpled man | 17. who’s fault is that | 18. talk later? | 19. wildflower | 20. love is in the air | 21. so close yet so far | 22. driving me mad | 23. i don’t care anymore | 24. where are they? | 25. falling in love | 26. i really need your help | 27. gone | 28. it’s you, again. | 29. we’re getting the band back together! | 30. let’s try this again. | 31. coming soon.

yj’s ending. | sb’s ending. | bg’s ending.

TAGLIST: @https-yeonjun, @sugaringgcaramel, @boba-beom, @ur-mother-realnotclickbait, @yawn-zi, @txtbrainrot, @soobsfairy444, @wonunuwoo, @coconutjjun, @headlockimnida, @dinosluver, @gwookie, @yourenzoo, @bunnyeonny, @eclipse-777, @lun4kazumii, @h00nerz, @soobjvn, @bam2gyuuuu, @gardnhee, @sugawara-levi, @miekesmellark, @zeizeisjy, send an ask or shoot me a dm to be added! ^^ (bold — can’t be tagged)

© iTAEHYNZ.

[bee-the-loser-recs]

.✩✮ My Beomgyu One-shot Fic Recs ✩✮.

★ I know I love you By @universecorp 6.2k, non-idol au, shitty family situations, kind of running away, fluff, smut, angst, friends to lovers, stoner Beomgyu, physical & verbal abuse

★ Lyrically bound By @beomgyucoded 17.3k, Rockstar!Beomgyu, songwriter!reader, university au, rare soulmates au, fluff, multiple soulmate links, suggestive, strangers to lovers, dream links

★ Let me teach you By @beomgyucoded 2k, established relationship, being taught the guitar, fluff, slight suggestiveness, making out, teasing

★ Totally unlabelled kisses By @heart2beom Friends to lovers, mutual pining, teetering the line between friendship and lovers, fluff, comedy, denial of feelings

★ Call you later By @heart2beom 3k, best friends to lovers, silly bets, trying to pick up numbers, Soobin being Beomgyu's friend, slight mentions of Soobin x reader, fluff, jealousy

★ Soft launching with Beomgyu By @enluv SMAU, posting couple pictures to soft launch their relationship, fluff, reader is friends with Chae & Jisung, Beomgyu is friends with Heeseung and IN, relationship reveals, flirting

★ Every time you're near me, my heart begins to race By @wonustars 4.1k, college au, enemies to lovers, cat and dog dynamic, being in denial about feelings, smut, slight fluff, teasing

★ Lazy Kitty!reader x Energetic Puppy!Beomgyu By @wildernessuntothemselves Hybrid au, smut, cat reader, dog Beomgyu, slight fluff, discussions of another hybrid, heat mentions

★ She was an angel, he did video games By @blue-jisungs 618, established relationship, fluff, Beomgyu & TXT playing video games, being asked to quiet down, cuddles, struggling to sleep

★ Nap of a star By @blue-jisungs Drabble, taking a nap on your "friends" lap, fluff, everyone can see it, towing the line between friends and lovers, talking about confessions

★ Sweet By @wave2tyun 557, established relationship, cute, really soft, fluffy, saying I love you to one another, Gyu is whipped for reader

★ In the dark By @acidsoju 3.8k, roommates au, smut, slight fluff, the lights going out, Beomgyu is scared of the dark, comforting one another, mentions of mutual friend Kai, feelings

★ Festival By @acidsoju 7.7k, college au, slice of life, romance, fluff, guitarist!Beomgyu, college festival, working at a bar/cafe, slight suggestiveness

★ Kids' Café By @acidsoju 1.6k, Idol Beomgyu, day-care owner reader, strangers to lovers, romance, fluff, reader interacts with kids a lot, kissing

★ Kai exposes y/n’s ‘crush’ on Beomgyu in the groupchat By @wooyukh SMAU, secret relationship, 'exposing' of feelings, meddling friends, teasing, fluff, group chats

★ Taehyun exposes Beomgyu’s crush on y/n in the groupchat By @wooyukh SMAU, confessions, exposing friend's crushes, meddling friends, pining, down bad Beomgyu, fluff, group chats

★ While I fuck you straight By @hyewka 5.1k, unspecified au, friends with benefits, getting over a break up, smut, slight fluff, kind of fuck boy Beomgyu, best friends

★ Fetish By @hyewka 4.9k, Yeonjun x reader x Beomgyu, friends to ???, slight drunk hooking up, college au, childhood friends, implied reader & Yeonjun have feelings for one another

★ Hey Emo Boy! By @koqabear 9.4k, opposites attract trope, kind of friends to lovers, fluff, smut, reader dresses like a Bimbo & works at Claire's, Beomgyu works at Spencer's & is in a rock band, piercings

★ Addicted to you By @koqabear 4.7k, Taehyun x reader x Beomgyu, unspecified au, poly situation, established relationship, V dynamic (reader dates both, they aren't dating one another), smut, slight fluff, returning from a trip abroad

★ Attention By @koqabear 5.8k, rockstar au, Yeonjun x reader x Beomgyu, established relationship between Yeonjun and reader, smut, pwp

[hyabbstay]

c.b.g. - hang around by echosmith (it's like you were tailor-made for me)

song: hang around by echosmith (listen)

-- in which beomgyu thinks he might be a little too much for you. god forbid you'll ever make him think that.

genre: slight angst, fluff/comfort

note: i just love beomgyu so much guys he's my bias u dont understand he deserves to be held and loved and praised all the time i love him sm hhhhhhh 🥹 let him be his silly self he's so cutehsakjdhakdaskd

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

“You were never this naughty before!” Yeonjun pointed out, casting an accusatory glare at the man beside you. Meanwhile, the man in question - your boyfriend, was doubled over in laughter, blindly reaching out to hold on to your shoulders while he gasped into your hair. You stood, grinning mischievously at Yeonjun.

“Hey,” you said playfully, “I’m exactly the same as before I met you guys!”

“Not after becoming his girlfriend, though,” Yeonjun glared at Beomgyu, who was now peeking at him from behind you, still shaking with laughter. You could feel him shuddering on your back. “Now give me back my sweater! I have a date!”

You gave in and pulled the clothing from behind your back, but Beomgyu whined. Well, you still were not as cheeky as him yet, but you reluctantly tossed it at Yeonjun. The older boy made a face at you both before moving to his bedroom.

Beomgyu collapsed in laughter on the couch, clapping his hands together like a seal. He enjoyed getting a rouse out of annoying his roommates, a naughty boy indeed, but his joy was contagious. You began to giggle again until it turned to a full-blown laughter.

You both had calmed down the minute Yeonjun shut the front door. Sighing, Beomgyu leaned his body into yours, nuzzling his face in your neck. The next few minutes were spent wrapped in silence, save for the whirring of the fan and distant rumbling of rubber tyres on asphalt.

You're just what the doctor ordered for me You're one of a kind, yeah, I can barely believe It's like you were tailor-made for me I don't even mind that I've been losing my sleep

You felt Beomgyu’s fingers curl around your own, and you reciprocated the action.

“Am I that much of a bad influence?” he asked quietly, breath tickling your skin.

You scoffed, thinking it sounded a bit like a silly thing to be worried about, but followed it with a gentle smile. You knew he couldn’t see it while his face was hidden in your shoulder, but you spoke softly to reassure him, “Don’t take what they say so seriously. They’re harmless pranks, you know that.”

Beomgyu hummed, as if he was thinking, but somehow not yet convinced.

“It’s not something that’ll put us in the depths of hell, oh my god, just, probably in Yeonjun’s wrath.”

“They’re the same thing.” He was pouting when he raised his head to look at you.

“Then find someone else to annoy other than Yeonjun.”

His face morphed into a sneaky grin, he lifted his head to look into your eyes, “You?”

Silence.

Before you let escape the giggle you’ve been holding in, you caught the anxiety dancing around in Beomgyu’s eyes.

“Just kidding! I don’t want you to get annoyed at me.” He quickly draped his arm around your shoulders to pull you close. You melted when he pressed his plush lips against your temple, like he always did when he thought you were the slightest bit irritated at him.

It didn’t take much for you to remember how he used to appease his ex the same way, except back then, his eyes were always glossy with fear.

If you're like a fire then I'm pouring gasoline I just wanna hang around If I'm like an earthquake, you see past the fault in me I just wanna hang around

It killed you a little bit whenever you caught his actions, so you surprised him with a kiss on the lips. Beomgyu, although taken aback, leaned into the kiss, thumb caressing your waist. Physical touch was something he typically initiated, not you. Suddenly, he felt like soaring.

“What was that for?”

“For your adorable ass.” You raised his hand to press another kiss to it, “You’re never annoying, Gyu. You’re never too much. I love you.”

Beomgyu’s eyes were glossy once more, but for a different reason. The anxiety disappeared into nothingness, but something brighter shone in him when he heard those three words.

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a/n: this was originally written with a different song, but i figured this fits the narrative the most c: i interpret it as beomgyu's pov, he's happy he met reader and how she can see past things he thinks is aura points loss for himself lmao c: cutest cutest cuTEST GRR

[dawngyu]

RAIN LILIES

pairing: soulmate idol choi beomgyu x soulmate fem!reader

Sitting at parties surrounded by lovers, a silent third wheel at movie nights, the friend holding the camera at weddings—your hands are always... alone in the spaces where others are full.

Were you an error in the grand scheme? An anomaly? A glitch in the unforgiving script? Or maybe, he simply doesn’t really… exist.

That’s how you ended up here, standing beside your korean-pop-obsessed friend who practically dragged you out and swore you’d love the show. It all became a blur when your eyes met his.

He’s on stage, gripping the mic impossibly still, staring down back at you like he feels it too.

He shouldn’t be real.

warnings: red-string au, strangers to lovers, reader is two years older, normal society norms, waiting, anxiety, doubts, sasaengs, insecurities, hasty decisions, drunk-in-love beomgyu. pov switching. everything written is a work of fiction. let me know if I missed anything.

smut-warnings: MDNI, explicit-descriptions, missionary, fingering, oral!fem receiving, dom beomgyu.

wc: 20k — playlist.

notes: fighting both my delulu and my demons while writing this. 😭 Might just be the fic I enjoyed writing the most—I hope you love it just as much! so glad to be part of this beautiful event. a big thank you to my beta reader.

1/5 part of the valentine event with talented moas! see the full masterlist here.

If fate promised you something so certain, how could you not long for it?

Since childhood, you’ve heard the stories. The way people speak in hushed voices, weaving fate into riddles, how somewhere out there, it's waiting—a single red string, unseen until the exact moment it’s meant to appear.

The rules are simple: the second your eyes meet theirs, a delicate crimson thread will wrap and tug around your ring finger, stretching across, tied to the one who is destined to love you.

You watched it happen to everyone else. From playground giggles in elementary school to whispered confessions in high school hallways, to late-night talks in college dorm rooms. You listened as your friends spoke about finding their own soulmates, the feeling—the pull, the process. It's everywhere. In the way, your parents fit together like pages of the same story. On the way your younger sister—still so new to the world found her match.

When you’re told your whole life that destiny is waiting for you, how could you not ache for it?

The universe doesn’t make mistakes. And yet, your hands remained... stringless.

And now you wonder if it did—with you.

"One, two, three, smile!"

You press the shutter, capturing the way they look at each other. You lower the camera, but they don’t even notice—they’re too caught up in their own little world, whispering sentences only they’ll ever understand. They laugh, eyes soft, bodies leaning in just a little closer.

How does love do that? How does it make someone shine like they’re carrying sunlight beneath their skin? Like just standing beside the right person is enough to set them alight?

And why, no matter how long you wait, does that light never seem to find you?

There are days you curse it—this cruel design, this aching uncertain certainty. You tell yourself it would be easier not to know, to live without the quiet hope that somewhere, someone is meant to find you, or that fate had already written your name beside someone else’s.

And then there are days you fear it.

What if they don’t want to find you? What if that’s why you’re still alone? What if they got it wrong, skipped over your name, and he simply… doesn’t exist?

You're an anomaly. A glitch in the well-made script.

You lost count of how many times you wished it was never made this way. That love shouldn’t be a promise. Yet in the deepest hours of the night, you found yourself—gasping, trembling, and sobbing to your palms. The feeling of—

How can you miss someone you've never met?

You want to reach for a hand you’ve never held. You long for a voice you’ve never heard, a scent you’ve never breathed, a shadow you’ve never chased. And more than anything, you wish you had a name to whisper, to give you hope.

You swallow, forcing a smile as you turn back to the couple. "Congratulations," you say, "It’s a beautiful wedding."

"Thank you, Y/N!" Ha-rin squeals, practically glowing as she steps forward to hug you. "And thank you for being our photographer—I know you must be busy."

"You’re welcome," you reply, adjusting your camera strap. "It’s what I do, after all."

Ju-won steps in then, reaching for Ha-rin’s hand like he can’t stand even a moment of space between them. "Thank you, Y/N," he says, his eyes never straying far from his wife.

They were your high school classmates. You remember the day they met—first year, first morning, when their eyes met across the classroom, and just like that, the red string appeared. They grew together, from awkward introductions to effortless friendship, and now, here they were, husband and wife.

A picture of everything the universe had promised them.

Ju-won leans in, pressing a kiss to Ha-rin’s cheek like it’s the first time, like they haven’t spent years by each other’s side. The look in their eyes is so easy, so full of love, that you have to look away.

You can't look.

"Uh, I’ll get some drinks," you say, forcing a smile that feels as out of place as you do. You don’t wait for a response. You just turn, your heels clicking against the polished floor, head spinning as you try to count how many weddings you’ve attended this year.

Or no. You’ve lost count.

Everyone you grew up with—your friends, your classmates—have already found their soulmates. Most are married now, some already raising children.

Your heels dig into your feet with each hurried step, but you don’t slow down. You just keep moving, past everyone. You know exactly where you’ll end up. The same place you always do.

Alone at the sidelines.

You grab a drink, bringing it to your lips a little too quickly, hoping the cool burn will settle the unease twisting in your stomach.

"Hey! It’s been a while!" A voice cuts calls out, familiar—but not familiar enough. You turn to see a girl skidding towards you, her face vaguely recognizable. A former classmate? A clubmate? Someone who once sat next to you in a lecture hall?

"How have you been?" she asks, taking a drink for herself.

"I’m fine, thanks," you reply, forcing an easy nod before taking another sip.

A second passes, and then another girl joins the conversation, breathless with laughter. "Beom-seok finally let me go," she teases, tilting her head toward the man across the room—her soulmate. "The guy’s obsessed."

"Of course he is," the first girl grins. "He’s your soulmate." She swirls her drink before adding, "Mine just got back from overseas. He’ll see me tomorrow once he’s in the city." And there it is again—circling back to the same topic, the one you can never take part in. You nod, offering a small smile, pretending to listen.

Because what is there to say when everyone else has something you don’t?

"Y/N?" Your name pulls you out of your thoughts.

"Huh?"

"Did you meet yours yet?" The question hits like a slow, squeezing ache in your chest.

"No," you say, reaching for another drink. It's embarrassing that everyone knows you're empty. "I haven't."

"That's… weird, right?" The first girl tilts her head, genuinely puzzled. "I mean, we sat through those lectures together. Didn’t the studies say most people find their soulmate before twenty-five? That’s what the records say."

There’s no malice in her voice, just matter-of-fact. Like she’s pointing out a statistic, saying out what’s already been made painfully clear to you. it’s the same tired reminder, the same unspoken question: what’s wrong with you?

You’re used to it by now.

"Yeah," you say, unwilling to argue. What’s the point? Your mind slips back to those reckless high school days—the days when older girls, too cool and too cruel, mocked you for not having a soulmate. You remember snapping back, pretending their words didn’t sting.

Later, the tears came on the bus ride home—carving rivers down your cheeks as you sob. Strangers offered tissues, soft words, awkward kindness, but none of it could stitch you back together. You remember your mother's words after seeing her home. To stop them from hurting you, you have to accept all of yourself.

But how do you accept the whole of you, when it doesn’t even feel like you have all of you?

From the corner of your eye, you catch the second girl nudging her. "Don’t mind her, Y/N," she says quickly. "She doesn’t always think before she talks." Then, after a beat, she adds, "Have you tried dating in the meantime? You know, while you're waiting?"

You blink at her, taken aback.

"I mean, it's not like it’s cheating, right? Since you haven’t met them yet."

You set your drink down, your fingers suddenly cold. "Why are you suggesting something you wouldn’t even do?" Your voice is calm, but it makes her shift uncomfortably. "Or did you? Does your soulmate know?"

Neither of them speaks. Guilt in their expressions. You don’t wait for an answer. You're done for tonight.

It’s time to go.

You turn away, not bothering to look back. No one needs you here—your part is done. Your role here is over. You pull out your phone, quickly typing out a polite apology to the bride before slipping it back into your pocket.

The drive home is silent, and the buzz of the engine is the only company you have. Your hands grip the wheel a little too tightly, your thoughts drifting despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. When you finally reach your small apartment, you step out, clutching yet another wedding souvenir in one hand a meaningless token of a night that wasn’t yours to celebrate.

You lock the door behind you and lean against it blinking, exhaling shakily. "I guess today wasn’t the day either," you murmur to no one in particular, wiping away the single tear that managed to escape. "What's taking you so long?"

No matter how often you whispered this question, it never hurt any less.

"What's taking you so long?"

Beomgyu groans from under the covers, trying to burrow deeper into the warmth of his bed. The sudden tug of his blanket makes him blindly reach out, attempting to grab it back. "You shi—"

"Beomgyu, you're the last one. We're all almost ready to go," Soobin says, adjusting his belt in the mirror. "Look at this little child."

Beomgyu stretches with a dramatic yawn. "I'm up, I'm up," he mumbles, sitting up sluggishly and blinking against the light. He swings his legs over the edge of the bed, feet landing on the bedside table. Soobin shakes his head but doesn't stick around—his job is done. Beomgyu is finally awake.

Minutes later, Beomgyu trudges into the living room, hair a mess, voice still deep with sleep. "Are we eating there?"

The entire room turns to look at him.

"You woke up late, and that’s the first thing you care about?" Yeonjun teases, shaking his head with a laugh.

"Well, I didn’t eat last night," Beomgyu grumbles.

"Oh?"

"Liar," the maknae pipes up from the couch, casually applying lip balm. "You literally snuck out to eat."

"You snitch," Beomgyu gasps, feigning betrayal. "I didn’t raise you to turn on me like this!"

"You? Raise me?" Kai scoffs. "Soobin hyung’s the one who raised me, what are you talking about?"

Soobin smirks and chucks Beomgyu’s towel straight at his face. "Exactly. Now go shower, you idiot."

Laughter erupts around the room as Beomgyu groans, trudging toward the bathroom. "Shower quick, hyung," Taehyun calls out.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

Beomgyu’s slightly damp hair clings to the back of his neck. He hadn’t had time to dry it properly before they rushed out of the dorm—there was no room for delays today. A broadcast for their comeback. Another promotion. His stylist would handle it in the green room anyway.

They pile into the van, the usual quiet settling over them. Despite being fully dressed and ready, exhaustion hangs heavy. One by one, his members drift off, heads resting against windows, bodies slumped in their seats. Only Kai remains awake, lost in his own world, music pulsing through his earphones. The maknae was so engrossed on his phone, obviously texting with a small smile on his face.

Beomgyu sighs, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, his breath slightly fogging up the window. Today would be a long day. Rehearsals, performances, a challenge video, taping. He missed this. He missed MOAs. The rush of the stage. The high of performing. And then—

Oh.

The van slows at a red light, and his gaze drifts absentmindedly to the sidewalk. His chest tightens.

A couple walks by, laughing, hands intertwined, completely lost in their own world. The way they move together, effortlessly in sync. In love. Content. Happy. He stares longer than he should.

He can't look away.

His throat feels tight as the van lurches forward again, pulling him out of his thoughts. He blinks hard, shifting in his seat. The image stayed, pressed into the back of his mind.

All four of his members had already found theirs—their soulmates. The one they could lean on when the world became too loud. Beomgyu was happy for them, of course, he was. He remember how he was when Kai blushed when he met his soulmate recently, right after his 23rd birthday.

Everyone teased the maknae relentlessly for weeks.

Beomgyu had been too busy his whole life, training since he was just a kid, running full speed toward a dream. His mind is busy to the point he sometimes forgets it. He does not mean to. It's just that—he never let himself dwell on it for too long. Pushing it aside became second nature, the same way he’d forget to eat when he was too busy, too distracted.

But every year, without fail, when the room dimmed and the birthday candles in front of him, his wish was always the same.

His soulmate.

It didn’t matter how many years passed or how much he achieved—when the glow of those tiny flames danced in his eyes, it was the only thing his heart whispered.

Beomgyu exhales shakily, his fingers curling into his hoodie. a quiet sigh slipping from his pouting lips.

Where are you?

The stark white walls of the hospital room loom over, mocking your awkwardness.

"There's nothing wrong with you, dear," the woman in front of you says, her lab coat lending a sense of authority to her words. Her voice is gentle, reassuring, but it barely soothes the unease twisting in your chest. "Soulmates do tend to find each other early, statistically speaking. But that’s just a pattern, not a guarantee."

You swallow hard. The lump in your throat stays put. "Is there… any chance this is a mistake?" Your voice is quieter than you intend, fragile in a way you hate. "That someone could go their whole life without one? That—" you hesitate, your chest tightening, "that I’m just… meant to be alone?"

Something flickers across her face—pity, maybe. You’re not sure. "I’ll look into it, I promise," she says after a moment. "I know twenty-six feels late, and I know it’s frustrating. But… trust in destiny a little longer. If you want, I can also recommend a therapist. I know the pressure can get to you."

Her words are meant to be comforting. They only make the weight in your chest heavier. You shake your head, managing a quiet “thank you” before slipping out of the room, the door clicking shut behind you.

“How was it?” Da-hee’s voice reaches you before you even look up. She’s already on her feet, eyes scanning your face, searching for an answer. “What did they say?”

“Nothing I haven’t heard before.” You sigh, walking past her. “I told you I should not do this.”

She huffs, crossing her arms as she falls into step beside you. “You never tried it,”

Your best friend doesn’t argue anymore, following you to the counter in silence. The cashier barely looks up as they say, “That consultation is $120 total, plus taxes, bringing it to $145.86. Card or cash?”

You catch Da-hee reaching for her wallet, but you gently push her hand away. “Don’t,” you murmur. “This was for me.”

You hand over your card. A quick swipe, a faint beep. And just like that, you’re down nearly $150 with nothing to show for it but a sinking feeling in your stomach.

That much money for a consultation. A conversation. No treatment, no tests, nothing tangible. Soulmate doctors are expensive. Too expensive. And health insurance? Useless. They don’t cover something as rare, as unquantifiable, as soulmate problems.

Because to them, it’s not a real sickness, proving that you are—once again—the outlier.

Perfect.

“Come on,” you say, nudging your still-guilty-looking friend. She follows you out of the hospital, quiet and pouting.

At the car, she pulls open the driver’s side door. “Let me at least drive?” she offers, voice softer now.

You chuckle at her persistence, shaking your head before tossing her the keys. “Okay.” Sliding into the passenger seat, you reach for the radio, as she pulls out of the parking lot.

"Let's hang out at your place," Da-hee says, and she grins as she sees you nod your head.

Music played softly through the speakers, blending with the casual flow of conversation. The air is light, and easy—until your car rolls past a towering black building.

HYBE.

Funeral wreaths. Trucks. Massive banners.

Your brows furrow as you take it in, the sight so jarring that it silences you for a beat. The road ahead clogs with slowed traffic, people lingering to gawk at the scene.

“What the fuck?” Da-hee mutters, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, eyes darting across the scene. The traffic slows as more people crane their necks to look. You do the same, stomach twisting at the sheer scale of it. "This is insane."

“What’s going on?” you ask, still trying to piece together the meaning behind it all.

She exhales, lips pressing into a thin line. “Lee Heeseung. An idol,” she starts. “News got out that he recently went out with his soulmate.” Her voice dips, sadness flickering across her face. “And now… now, people want him out of the group.”

Your stomach twists. “What?”

You strain to read the bold, angry messages plastered across the banners:

GET LEE HEESEUNG OUT OF HYBE.

APOLOGIZE, LEE HEESEUNG.

EXPLAIN THIS, LEE HEESEUNG.

ENHYPEN IS NOW ONLY SIX.

IDOLS WITH SOULMATES ARE NOT IDOLS.

The messages feel suffocating, each one worse than the last. Then you see it—one of the trucks, its LED screen flashing an image like a public execution.

A man, young and striking, caught mid-laughter as he eats ramen with a girl beside him. She’s smiling too, her expression warm, content. The matching caps on their heads make them look like any ordinary couple, but the grainy, long-lens quality of the photo gives it away. Someone had been watching. Someone had been waiting to expose them.

Your stomach turns.

“It’s worse when so many fans are… young,” Da-hee murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. “Most of them are stringless.” She says the last word carefully like she doesn’t want to offend you.

But you almost hear what she isn’t saying.

Stringless people can’t understand the soulmate bond. And when it comes to idols, that misunderstanding twists into darker. As insane as it sounds, they feel entitled. Possessive. Like their devotion should be enough. Like an idol’s life—who they love, who they belong to—should be theirs to control.

It’s the only explanation, isn’t it?

The car inches forward, and your eyes drift back to the scene outside. Security guards push against the surging crowd, their faces strained. The banners wave wildly, like battle flags in a war meant to punish.

You swallow hard. “I don’t get it.” You don’t know him. You don't need to know him to know the injustice of it. “Why treat him like he committed some kind of crime? He’s meant to have someone. He’s a person, not—” You gesture vaguely at the protest, frustration bubbling up. “Not their property.”

Da-hee sighs. “That’s why idols who are caught with their soulmates—especially the ones who confirm it, get cancelled. Fans turn on them. They lose everything.” She shakes her head, voice laced with exhaustion and resignation. “It’s sad that they have to hide it.”

The thought of society hating someone just for loving who they’re meant to love makes your chest feel tight. How could something meant to be beautiful turn into this?

You guess your own situation isn’t the only cruel, unfair thing in this world.

The two of you make it back to your apartment, settling in for a movie with a bowl of popcorn between you. The glow of the TV flickers across the room, a comfortable silence stretching between you—until Da-hee suddenly squeals, nearly knocking the popcorn over in the process.

“Oh my god,” she gasps, shoving the popcorn bowl off her lap as she scrambles to her feet. “OH MY GOD.” She starts stomping in place.

You glance at her, unimpressed. “I want to wipe that ridiculous grin off your face.”

She just giggles and shoves her phone in front of you. “Joon bought me VVIP tickets. I’m going to die.” She pumps a fist in the air, bouncing on her toes like a kid who just won the lottery. “And there’s two. He can’t go—oh my god. Please, please, I am begging you to come with me. It’s next week! That sneaky bastard didn’t even tell me he bought them ages ago.”

You hesitate, already feeling the excuse forming on your tongue. “I don’t think—”

“Come on, Y/N.” She grabs your arm, shaking it dramatically. “Look at me. I have a soulmate, and I still thirst over Tomorrow X Together.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “That’s a long-ass name.”

“They’re my babies,” she says, clutching her chest like she’s been personally blessed by the gods. “You’ll love the show, I promise. And maybe—you’ll be like me. While you wait for your soulmate, it’s harmless to fangirl a little. OMG, what if you become a MOA? That’s my dream. Imagine us going to cafés with photocards, buying merch, collecting albums—”

“Okay, first of all, they are grown men. Not babies.” you cut in before she spirals. You know from experience that once she starts talking about her fangirl life, she never stops. “Anyways, okay, I’ll go. But don’t expect anything.”

Da-hee lets out another excited squeal before launching herself at you, wrapping her arms around your neck and squeezing way too tight.

“You won’t regret this!”

You already do.

It was your turn to trail behind Da-hee like a lost puppy, weaving through the sea of fans decked out in carefully coordinated outfits. Everyone is well dressed. So prepared. Keychains and accessories dangled from their bags, the sound of clinking metal filling the air.

"Look at them," Da-hee suddenly stopped, pulling out her phone. You followed her gaze to the massive banner hanging outside the arena.

TOMORROW X TOGETHER

They... didn’t look bad.

"My husbands," Da-hee sighed dreamily spinning turning to you with wide eyes. "Let's take a selfie!"

Before you could protest, she yanked you in, holding her phone high. The two of you posed—her grinning ear to ear, you looking like a reluctant daughter humoring her overexcited mom.

At the ticketing section, an attendant handed you both event wristbands and ID laces. You're about to shove yours into your pocket, but Da-hee looped it around your neck like a medal.

“So you don’t lose it,” she said firmly.

You sighed, adjusting the strap as you followed her toward a merch booth. Fans swarmed the display, eyes gleaming as they scanned the shelves stacked with albums, shirts, and accessories.

"Everyone's so hyped," you muttered, glancing around. "I can see a lot of Da-hees here."

"Of course they are," Da-hee said ignoring your last comment with a dramatic sway of her hand. She skimmed the display. "This comeback is a masterpiece."

You frowned. "What are we even doing here?"

"You need a picket." She says. "And don’t even think about saying no. I’m still heartbroken you refused the lightstick, so at least take this. We’re gonna be right at the barricades, you can’t just stand there empty-handed. Pick one."

You groaned, "Fine."

Your eyes sweep over the options, scanning each face printed on the glossy boards. You won’t say it out loud—not yet—but you’ll admit it now. They’re all… ridiculously handsome.

And one of them stands out.

Soft brown eyes. A small, almost knowing smile. Something about his face makes your breath hitch. "Uh..."

Da-hee leans in, brow furrowing. "What are you picking? Wait. Are you okay? Why are you so red—"

"I'm not," You quickly pointed at the picket, avoiding her stare like your life depended on it. "This one."

A slow, mischievous grin spreads across her face. "Oh-ho." She turns to the waiting merch seller, smiling some more.

"One Beomgyu, please."

You followed her... once again.

You didn’t have much of a choice. But this time, your steps felt… lighter. Movements are less reluctant than when you first arrived.

You weren’t sure why. Maybe it was the way the heat had finally eased, the golden glow of late afternoon settling over the pavement. Maybe it was the way MOAs—total strangers—smiled at you like you belonged, their warmth making you feel strangely at ease. Maybe it was the fact of not hearing the word soulmate even once. That you don't feel the odd one out.

Or maybe—just maybe—it was the picket you now held carefully in your hands.

You didn’t know how it happened. How you went from teasing Da-hee about her obsession to clutching a piece of laminated paper like it meant something. But the more you looked around, the more you understood.

It wasn’t just about the idols printed on banners or the music playing faintly in the background. But also, it was about them. These people who glowed with excitement, who found joy in simply being here, in loving unapologetically.

You were sceptical of it at first, seeing the front of HYBE last week. The protest. But just like everything, you saw it. The good side of being a fan.

How they shined—not only because of who they adored, but because of how they adored. How happy they were to love, and to share that love with everyone around them.

And somehow, standing here among them, you felt a little brighter, too.

"Where are we going now?"

"MOAZONE," Da-hee answers without hesitation, pulling you toward yet another booth. The concert doors won’t open for another thirty minutes, but she’s on a mission. The funny thing is—she doesn’t really need to drag you anymore.

Something has settled in your bones. You’re going to see this through, stay until the last song fades. And maybe—you’ll find yourself here again next time.

"It’s a booth where you can pull a concert-exclusive photocard," she explains further, eyes shining with excitement.

You nod, letting her lead the way. The line is long. When it’s finally Da-hee’s turn, she gasps, then squeals so loudly people around her chuckle. "Yeonjun!" she cries, clutching the card to her chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world. "I got him!"

Then, it’s your turn.

A row of face-down cards is laid out before you. You don’t think too hard about it—you just point to one.

The staff hands it over, and when you flip it, your breath catches.

"You got Beomgyu?!" Da-hee shrieks, bouncing on her toes beside you. You barely hear her. Because there he is.

Elbow propped up, chin resting on his hand, that same small, knowing smile—only this time, it’s wider.

Fucking hell.

Da-hee grabs your arm, shaking you. "Girl, you are officially a Beomgyu magnet. I'm unfriending you if don't start liking them,"

Beomgyu.

Beomgyu. His name loops in your mind, over and over. And for some reason, it fits. His name suits him.

You tried your best not to break a smile. "Come on,"

If you had told yourself a year ago that you’d be here—crammed into a packed venue, surrounded by screaming teenagers—you would’ve laughed. Hard.

And yet, here you are, laughing. Not at the absurdity of it, but with it. Caught up in the moment with Da-hee, the crowd’s energy vibrates as hundreds of voices chant their names.

“It’s soundcheck first,” Da-hee leans in, her voice barely cutting through the noise. “Then the main concert.”

You nod, still grinning. “Okay.”

Then, the opening notes of a song play through the speakers. The crowd erupts. “Oh my god!” Da-hee shrieks, “It’s Deja Vu!”

The five of them step onto the stage. It’s a blur—lights flashing, voices screaming. Your heart pounds against your ribs as the music swells, wrapping around you like something alive.

It’s beautiful.

A tall man—easily the tallest—moves toward your section, waving with an easy smile, deep dimples carving into his soft-looking cheeks. It reminds you of bread. The warmth of it is infectious, and before you even realise it, you're waving back, grinning at someone whose name you didn’t even know this morning.

Then, the song begins to wind down. And that’s when you see him.

Beomgyu.

His steps are slower than the others, like he’s taking his time, scanning the crowd with careful eyes. You tell yourself not to look. Not when he gets closer. Not when that strange, restless nervousness twists in your stomach. You clench your fists and stare at the ground. Why? Why does this feel so overwhelming?

Around you, voices grew. The energy shifts, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in. You look up, unsure.

The mic is at his lips, his voice singing into the melody—until suddenly, he stops.

All because his eyes meet yours.

Everything else fades. The crowd, the shake of Da-hee beside you, even the music that was supposed to be loud. All that’s left is the pull—a red thread stretching between, searing itself into your vision, blinding in its intensity—demanding to be seen.

On stage, he stands impossibly still, his fingers gripping the mic like he sees it too.

It can't be real.

“We're trending again,” Taehyun says, flopping onto Beomgyu’s hotel bed with a sigh. “What the hell?”

Beomgyu leans back against the headboard, “How much time do we have?”

Taehyun checks his watch. “Practice is in… oh. Hours.” He exhales, shaking his head in awe. “This is actually happening. A sold-out stadium, Beomgyu. Can you believe that? Remember that tiny, run-down building we used to train in? The cracked floorboards, the growing mushrooms?” He laughs, eyes distant.

“When Yeonjun used to sneak his soulmate in, trying to show off like he was already famous? As a trainee. And now—now, we’re here.”

Beomgyu snorts. “In that practice room, too. I still don’t know how his soulmate put up with that. Or how Yeonjun didn’t get kicked out.”

“Yeah. They just couldn’t let go of each other.” Taehyun laughs, shaking his head. “And I don't think Big Hit will let go of him too."

It had been one of the first rules drilled into them during training—no soulmates. No... searching. And if they already had one? They had to tell them. Have the conversation. An agreement that would turn everything into a secret.

Soulmates were inevitable, unstoppable. Beomgyu still remembers the contract in his hands, the way he read every word over and over, heart pounding. As if somewhere in the fine print, there was a clause that might hurt his soulmate. In the end, he signed.

If he ever found his soulmate, no one could know. Not until everything was over. In other words, disbandment.

"I'm missing her like crazy these days."

Beomgyu doesn’t respond right away. He just shrugs, tossing things out of his suitcase—a hoodie, a toothbrush, whatever his hands find first. He had noticed how restless Taehyun had been, the way he kept his phone glued to his hands, typing, hesitating, typing again. But what was there to say? What could he do about it?

The others were good at pretending. Hiding. The quiet hotel meetups, the stolen hours between schedules. But if Beomgyu was being honest, he could count on both hands the number of times any of the four had actually been with their soulmates since debut.

The fear of getting caught kept them all in line. Not just by the company, but by the fans. The horror stories weren’t just industry rumours—some were ancient, some recent.

If this doesn’t work out, I don’t know if I can take it. Taehyun had said that once. This career was everything. He wasn’t going to risk it. He wasn't ready. And Beomgyu understood. Everyone understood. He could already picture the protest trucks outside the company building if anyone ever slipped up.

"You heard anything from Heeseung?" Taehyun asks, his voice careful, his fingers tightening around his phone. Beomgyu knows him well enough to catch the shift—the way his mind drifts, went from missing his soulmate to remembering the latest scandal in their world.

Heeseung, the newest idol thrown into the fire.

He, who got caught with his soulmate.

"Yeah," Beomgyu says, swallowing. "He's okay, but… his soulmate is taking the worst of it."

Taehyun stills. The thought of his own soulmate being dragged into something like that—starts to burn at the back of his mind. What if it were her?

"Hey, don't overthink it," Beomgyu says because he sees it. He sees it in all of them. The quiet way they carry it, that they aren’t supposed to want. In their world, the idea that you should be free with your soulmate is just that—an idea. Or maybe worse. A peril. A risk too big to take.

He remembers Soobin crying once, blaming himself for wanting this life—this job. And how, in the end, the only person who could calm him down was his soulmate. The same person the company treated like a liability. Yet, the only one with the power to bring their leader back to himself.

The irony.

He also remembers the night he sat with his dad, asking him how he knew Mom was his. He had tilted his head, recounting their encounter, before he said one thing that stuck with him.

"Before I even saw the string, I knew… it was her."

Beomgyu used to cringe at that. Now, he wonders if he'll ever get the chance to feel it.

“Did you see everyone? Insane.” Yeonjun says, eyes wide as they sit in the salon-like chairs. “They’ve been out there since last night.”

Kai glances at him as much as he can without moving his head, his makeup artist carefully blending eyeshadow. “Yeah, I saw them. MOAs are bundled up out there, and it’s freezing. It's worrying me.”

"I feel like I'm about to throw up. I'm nervous,"

Playing a stadium—a sold-out one, this is the dream. The one every trainee chases, the one Beomgyu used to stare at the ceiling imagining, too afraid to believe it could ever be real. And yet, here it is.

His mind pulls him back to the past. The long nights, the aching muscles, the quiet sobs muffled into his pillow. The moments of doubt, the voices—his own, the other's—telling him he wasn’t enough. He remembers how hard they worked. How hard he worked. How many times they shared one meal because they couldn't afford another one. And still, somehow, they held on.

He knows he earned this, and fought for it with everything he had. But standing here now, bathed in the price of it all, it still doesn’t feel real. He stares at his hands once his stylist is done with his eyes. There’s something else tugging at him, a strange feeling that’s been lurking since morning.

What it is, he can’t quite say.

Beomgyu's eyes sweep over the big space. The kind of big that makes his head spin if he thinks about it too much. In a few hours, this place will be much packed. He’s been—on stages just like this, under lights just as bright but somehow, it still knocks the wind out of him.

It's soundcheck. He likes it because, with the lights up, he can actually see everyone. It was one of the rare moments he could see faces. He likes it as much as the offline fan signs. They move through the set, running back and forth across the stage, but his feet keep pulling him toward one side—like an instinct.

Beomgyu likes looking at MOAs. It feels good. Familiar, almost. Sometimes, he even recognizes a face— it was a feeling like a reminder of home, a classmate from school, someone he’d seen before. And then there’s the simple joy of it all. The way someone’s face brightens up because of him. It never gets old. It never stops making him happy, too.

But then, he notices one weird thing.

It’s strange. He’s right here. He could understand if you were looking at another member—fans have their favourites, after all. But you’re not looking at anyone. You're staring at the floor?

You’re not looking at all.

He tilts his head, trying to see better—to get a curious glimpse, and suddenly, his whole world shifts. His heart slams to a stop. It’s so sudden, so overwhelming, he almost stumbles forward, yanking him toward the barricade. "What?"

And then—you move, as if you heard his thoughts.

Just the slightest turn of your head, your face lifting, eyes locking onto his. He stops breathing. His fingers go numb around the mic. Everything slows, softens, blurs at the edges until there’s nothing but this moment. Just the two of you, staring.

The closeness of Beomgyu makes the crowd shift, bodies pressing closer—but you don’t move. You just stand there—still, steady—while the rest of the world shifts around you. Like the last grain of sand in an hourglass, holding on as everything else rushes past.

He swears he would’ve stayed like that forever—frozen, staring, lost—if not for the firm hand on his shoulder. A small tug. He blinks, the spell breaking just enough for reality to slip back in.

"Beomgyu? What's wrong?" Soobin. His leader gives him a look of worry and urgency, and that’s when he hears it, the music. He closes his agape lips, and clears his throat. The song is still playing. Right. He’s supposed to be—

But then his gaze flickers back to you.

It’s nothing, he tells himself. You’re just so so pretty. That’s all. Maybe it was your eyes or your hair or the way you did it. It was just fucking cute. It doesn’t mean anything. And—

His breath falters. He sees it.

He hadn’t noticed before. He had been too busy looking at you. Too caught up in the moment that he missed it entirely. Something all of the members have. Something Beomgyu had waited for his whole life.

The thread.

Thin, and so impossibly red. A string stretched between, glowing faintly under the stage lights. He looks down at his hand—at his ring finger— it's tied there. His eyes trace its path. To you. His chest tightens.

"Before I even saw the string, I knew… it was her."

Soulmate.

You’re his. After everything—after all this time—

He finally found you.

The dressing room is a blur of movement, stylists rushing, last-minute adjustments being made, and voices overlapping but he just sits there. Staring at the floor.

He’s dressed. He’s ready. He should be used to this by now, the pre-show jitters, the nervous energy that always sits in his chest before he steps on stage. But—his soulmate is out there. Somewhere in the crowd. And the thought grips him so tight it almost hurts. What if he never sees you again? What if you’re gone before he can find you?

Your face lingers in his mind, vivid and haunting. The way the lights hit your dress, the way you looked at him—it knocked the breath right out of his lungs. He was completely unprepared for it. You were so beautiful that he almost forgot what he was doing.

He’s never been shaken like that before. Not in his personal life. Not as an idol. Not in school, at the company, on stage, meeting seniors, at award shows—never.

Waiting for the music queue, he finally lifts his head.

Muscle memory takes over. His body knows what to do. He’s trained for this, conditioned for it. Every movement, every note, every expression—it’s muscle memory now. His instincts take over before his thoughts can catch up. This is his life. His career. The one thing he chose, out of everything he could have been. How many people in the world get to do this? To stand under those lights, to hear thousands of voices calling his name, to live a dream most wouldn’t even dare to chase?

Would he trade it all, just to see you again?

His feet move—before he can stop them, despite his thoughts, his heart pulls him stronger toward your section. It's a force beyond his control. When he finally sees you again, it feels like a miracle. You’re still near the barricade, still close enough that he doesn’t have to search.

He keeps up, waves, and makes faces—things for MOAs, things he’s done a thousand times before. But his mind isn’t on them. It’s on you. And you’re just standing there again, frozen in place like you don’t trust yourself to move.

He waves again, but this time, it’s for you. Directly. You tilt your head, hesitant, and then—an unsure wave back. It’s so small, so subtle, but it makes him smile. His grin spreads before he can think twice.

Got you, beautiful.

He pumps his fist in an exaggerated show of triumph, like he just won a game only the two of you are playing. He watches as your eyes go wide, and if the lights weren’t so blinding, he swears he’d see the warmth rising to your cheeks. He fists his hand, trying to hold back from reaching out to you.

He crouches, and the fans around you surge forward, eager to be seen, but you don’t move. And then, he sees it—your eyes kept flickering downward, tracing the thread again and again, like you were making sure.

Yet you see it perfectly too.

You smile—small, hesitant, like you’re not sure this is really happening. Then, as if on impulse, you lift your hand, forming a careful, uncertain hand heart.

He doesn’t even wait a second before returning it.

His eagerness made you laugh. A breathless, disbelieving kind of laugh. He can’t hear it, not over the noise of the crowd, but he sees it in the way your shoulders shake, the way your eyes crease at the corners. His chest aches.

You're even more beautiful when you laugh.

He tosses a few kisses out into the air, but he gives his last kiss, the last one to you. You hesitate for only a second before sending one back. His response is instant—dramatic, ridiculous—clutching his chest like you’ve just shot him straight through the heart. He stumbles back, clutches at his clothes, so completely gone for you.

It’s meant to be a joke, but it isn’t.

Because you do have his heart, don’t you? And the strangest thing is, he doesn’t even know your name. Has never heard your voice. But right now, none of that matters. Maybe he’d stay here forever if he could, but the next song cut through the air, pulling him back to the present. His feet move, leading him away—away from you.

Before he joins the centre, just for a second, he looks back. A second to meet your eyes again, to make sure you're watching him.

And you are.

"Hyung," he breathes out.

Soobin turns, both of them standing still as stylists tug their sweat-drenched shirts off, replacing them with fresh ones.

But Beomgyu isn’t thinking about the show anymore.

He’s looking at Soobin. Waiting. Searching for the right way to ask without anyone else catching on. He doesn’t want them to hear. Doesn’t want them to know.

Not yet.

Soobin frowns slightly. “What? You've been looking distracted since earlier. Are you okay?”

“Your soulmate…” His eyes flicker down. He hesitates, searching for the right words. The right way to say this. "At—Tokyo? How did you…?"

He doesn’t need to finish the thought. How can the older forget the only time he managed to sneak his soulmate backstage? Soobin stares at Beomgyu. The latter's face is practically screaming his questions. How did you do it? How did you get them backstage? How did you make it happen?

Beomgyu has to see you. In front of him. Next to him. Because what if you disappear? What if he lets this slip through his fingers, and suddenly—you’re just gone? And what if this is his only chance?

The room moves around him—zippers, voices, fabric rustling—but all he can hear is his own ragged breathing. He moves his eyes. And there, watching him is their leader who knows him better than anyone—with that equally knowing look on his face.

"Let's talk. Just the two of us."

Beomgyu is your soulmate.

The boys just disappeared backstage, their song still ringing in your ears, but your hands won’t stop shaking. Your chest is tight, your throat burns, and there’s a sting at the corners of your eyes.

You're not a mistake. He’s here. He saw you.

His eyes, his smile. The way he moves, the faint dimple that appears when he does. The thought is too much—it makes your knees weak, and forces you to grip the barricade to keep yourself upright.

"Girl, I swear Beomgyu kept looking over here," Da-hee says, nudging you, completely oblivious to the storm unraveling in your chest. Then she catches sight of your face—at your trembling fingers, at the way you can’t seem to catch your breath.

“Y/N?” Her voice softens. “What’s wrong?”

The words leave your lips before you can even think. "I saw my soulmate."

Your voice shakes, barely above a whisper, but Da-hee hears it. Her eyes go wide. "Wait, what? Oh my god—where is he? Is he a MOA? Is he—”

She doesn’t even get to finish the thought before she freezes.

It clicks.

Then, slowly, her face shifts—from confusion to shock to absolute disbelief. The finding out, then the realising. She stares at you, her mouth slightly open, her hands hovering in the air like she doesn’t know what to do with them.

“Oh my fucking god.” Her hands fly to her mouth, like she needs to physically stop herself from screaming. Then she grabs her hair, like that’s going to help her process this.

“Is he—is Beomgyu—” She cuts herself off, whisper-shouting now, eyes darting toward the stage, toward the place where he just was. “Is that why he kept coming back over here?”

Her grip tightens on your arm, searching your face, waiting for you to confirm what she already knows. But you can’t say anything. All you can give is a small nod.

Minutes pass. The music swells and fades, song after song drifting through the speakers.

Da-hee stays by your side, rubbing soothing circles on your back, whispering reassurances you can’t fully process. At some point, you catch her sniffling into her hands, wiping away her own tears.

Sixteen years.

Sixteen years of friendship, of growing up together, of knowing each other better than anyone else ever could. She’s seen every version of you—the messy, the broken, the parts of you even you struggled to accept. She’s cried with you, cried for you, carried your grief like it was her own. Even after finding her own soulmate, she never left you behind. Never made you feel like you were missing something, like you were less.

And now—now she’s the reason you’re here.

She’s the reason you met him.

You think of every birthday candle she ever closed her eyes for, every whispered wish she made on your behalf—because she believed that if two people wished for the same thing, the universe had to listen.

And maybe she was right.

It doesn’t matter if he never speaks to you. If the lights were too bright, if the crowd was too big, if he never even saw the thread at all.

It doesn’t matter. Because you saw it.

And that means you were never a mistake. Never some error in the grand design.

He exists.

Da-hee squeezes your hands, grounding you as a woman in staff uniform approaches. Her eyes lock onto yours, scanning your face, your outfit—like she’s confirming, making sure. Then, she stops directly in front of you. “We need to check some information on your tickets.”

Your heart slams against your ribs. You’re not stupid. You know what this is. You know they wouldn’t say it outright, not here, not in front of all these people.

“I—I have a friend with me,”

The staff member hesitates, studying you for a beat too long. Then she nods. “She can come with you, but she’ll have to wait in the holding room.”

You turn to Da-hee, and she’s already looking at you, her eyes wide and glassy. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Then she forces a wobbly smile.

Let's go.

You’re going to meet Beomgyu.

The walk was terrifying. Your hands clench tighter with every step, nails digging into your palms, but it does nothing to steady you. Every passing glance burns into your skin—people sneaking curious glances—staff members, crew, people who know exactly why you’re here.

Da-hee had to stay behind in the outer lounge. Now, it’s just you and the staff member leading you deeper into the backstage hallways. The air is thick, suffocating, and you force yourself to breathe through it.

Then she stops. A white door stands in front of you. Dressing Room is printed neatly on a sign, but the words blur as your mind spins.

She knocks. Opens it.

Panic rushes in. What if he doesn’t want this? What if he only let you come here to reject you—to tell you, to your face, that even if the universe says you’re meant to be, he doesn’t want you? What if—

The thought vanishes the second you see him.

Beomgyu.

He’s mid-step, like he’s been pacing. He removes his hands from his face, his eyes widening just slightly before he clears his throat. “Come in,” he says, voice softer than you expected. It’s meant for the staff member, but his gaze never left yours.

The staff steps aside, gesturing for you to enter. Heat crawls up your neck as you force yourself to move, hyper-aware of the way he’s watching every step.

“You have 60 minutes, Beomgyu,” she says before closing the door behind you.

Beomgyu stares at you, and you stare back.

For a moment, neither of you move. Just standing there, eyes locked, as if the world has paused just for this. To anyone else, it might look awkward—but you can't look away as he does.

Your eyes traces over his face, bare and fresh like he just washed up. The soft curve of his cheekbones, the freckles and moles scattered like constellations—proof that the universe took its time with him. Perfect in a way that makes your chest ache.

He blinks, and your eyes catch on his lashes—delicate, dark, fluttering against his skin like something out of a dream.

How can someone be made this perfect?

The question lodges itself in your throat, and before you can stop it, your vision blurs. Tears threaten to spill, but you blink them away. You don’t even know if he wants this yet—

"What’s your name?" Beomgyu asks, his voice quieter than he expected. He watches the way you blink, the slight parting of your lips like you hadn’t expected him to speak first.

His hands curl into fists at his sides. The urge to reach out—to cup your face, to feel your skin—is overwhelming. But he holds himself back.

Beomgyu has never considered himself the kind of person to take the first step. But not this. Not with you. He wants to start a conversation, anything—to get you talking, to hear your voice, to know you.

"Y/N." The sound of your voice stills him. It settles in his chest, not as something new, but as something he swears he’s always known—like a song he’s heard in a dream, waiting to be remembered. His lips twitch into a small, almost dazed smile.

Your voice is so pretty, he thinks. So pretty that it hurts.

He repeats your name, slower this time, rolling it over his tongue like he’s memorizing the way it feels to say it. And when you smile—just the faintest curve of your lips—his own smile widens into a grin.

"So, uh, hi?" Beomgyu says, and it pulls a laugh from you. His heart stumbles over itself at the sound, warmth blooming in his chest. It’s ridiculous, really, how easily you affect him.

"Did you come here alone?" he asks, trying to steady himself.

"I was with a friend," you say, and his eyes flicker—just for a second—to your lips before settling back on yours. "She’s outside."

"Hm." Beomgyu nods slowly, as if letting the thought settle. Then, slowly, he reaches out—his palm open, facing up, an unspoken invitation for you to give your hand out.

Your breath catches. Hesitation flickers for just a moment before you place your hand in his. Beomgyu feels warmth creep up his neck the second your skin meets, a flush he hopes you don’t notice. His fingers curl gently around yours, testing the weight of your hand in his own.

"Come on," he says, his voice softer now. He tugs you forward—careful, gentle, afraid he's hurt you in any way if he pulls too hard. "You should sit. You must be tired from standing out there."

"I could say the same," you murmur as you both sink into the couch. Beomgyu turns slightly toward you, his knee brushing yours, but he doesn’t let go of your hand. His thumb traces absentminded circles against your skin. "You danced and ran around the stage all night," you add, tilting your head at him.

He chuckles, the sound low and a little breathless. Your eyes drift around the room—clothing racks, scattered bags, the quiet remnants of a space that had been buzzing with energy just minutes ago.

"Yeah, I was pretty tired," he admits. Then, after a pause, softer this time, when you look at him again, he’s already staring. "But not anymore."

Beomgyu takes in everything—your lips, the way the light catches in your eyes, the soft of your hand in his. He doesn’t even think before he speaks, before the thought that’s been looping in his head since he first saw you finally slips past his lips.

"God, you're so beautiful."

Beomgyu watches as your cheeks flush, the warmth creeping up your skin like the slow bloom of dawn. He knew—you were his soulmate. Fates stitched together long before this moment, yet nothing could have prepared him for the way you looked right now. He never imagined that watching you blush under his words would feel this intoxicating.

"You’re the one who’s beautiful," you murmur, barely above a whisper. The words feel foreign on your tongue, yet true in a way that unsettles you. You clear your throat, trying to mask the way your heart stumbles over itself, but Beomgyu only tightens his grip on your hand.

You wonder how you even got here. This morning, you woke up with no idea that by evening, you'd be sitting across from your soulmate, flirting like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He chuckles—Beomgyu has heard the word beautiful more times than he can count. It’s been thrown at him in passing, whispered through screams from fans, printed in glossy magazines. But somehow, from your lips, it sounds different.

The next few minutes passed in easy conversation. Beomgyu had already pieced together bits of your life—you were only here because Da-hee dragged you along—he’d been hoping to meet her too, if only to thank her.

He knew you worked a corporate job, that photography was your escape. That you were two years older than him, a fact that he immediately latched onto, whispering noona in a teasing lilt just to see the way you’d roll your eyes laugh and swat his arm. But the truth was, he didn’t want to call you that. It was your name he wanted to say. He felt like he’d already spent a lifetime missing it, and now that he knew it, he never wanted to stop saying it.

You had learned things about him, too. That he’d loved music since he was a kid, that he picked up a guitar before he fully understood its chords. That he was cast as a trainee before he even hit the climax of his teenage years, and that six years had passed since he debuted. Things you could have easily searched online, or you could have read every article, and watched every interview, but nothing made your heart flutter quite like the way he told his own story.

The contrast between your lives was undeniable. Maybe that’s why it took so long for fate to push you toward each other.

While you were drowning in homework, he was in a practice room, chasing a dream. While you sat through lectures and worried about exams, he was in a studio, recording songs that would echo through stadiums. While you cried over a failed job interview, he stayed up until dawn, running through choreography again and again until his legs gave out. Your society—were parallel lines moving in different directions.

But sitting here, watching him scrunch his nose in laughter, none of that seemed to matter. Two people from different worlds, felt like it had faded into one—just by being next to each other.

He hadn’t once let go of your hand for the past hour.

"No, I just—I didn’t know where else to put it, so I stuck it there." You fumble for an excuse, cheeks burning as Beomgyu grins at you. He had spotted the photocard of him tucked into the back of your phone case, and he hadn’t let it go since.

“And it was random,” you add quickly, feeling your face heat up. “You have to randomly pick it.”

The truth is, Beomgyu knows. He knows it was a random selection. He knows you’re flustered. And he loves it. Loves the way you try to explain yourself, loves hearing you ramble, loves the way your face heats up under his stare. And to be honest, if it had been another member’s face staring back at him, no matter how petty it sounded, he also knows he wouldn’t have been too thrilled about it.

He’s in deep.

"Beomgyu, it's time to go." The same staff member says, pulling you both back to reality. You didn't even hear the doors opening. Her eyes flicker to your joined hands for a second, but she doesn’t say anything—just turns and steps outside.

You glance at Beomgyu, and he’s pouting. "We’re flying to Japan tomorrow morning, Y/N."

"Oh." The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. You just met your soulmate, and by morning, he’d be gone. "Okay."

You stand up, expecting him to do the same, but he doesn’t move. Your hands dangle between you because he still hasn’t let go. "Beomgyu?"

"I’ll see you as soon as I get back, okay?" His voice is softer now, like he’s trying to find the right words. His gaze lingers on you, unreadable for a moment, before he finally stands. He squeezes your hands gently. "It won’t be too long."

"Alright… we have each other's numbers, so… text me."

"Just know your phone might be buzzing non-stop,"

"Got it." You roll your eyes, smiling. "I’ll survive."

"And wear warm clothes—it’s winter."

"You too."

"Eat on time."

"You’re the one doing concerts. I should be the one saying that."

He ignores your deflection, pressing on. "Sleep well. Lock your doors properly. You live alone, so it’s dangerous. Don’t go out too late. And if you do, call me, okay? Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t go out too late at all. Please—make sure you don’t—"

He doesn’t get to finish. Before he can say another word, you reach up, sliding your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into a hug. His words cut off instantly, replaced by a soft inhale—like he hadn’t breathed since he started speaking. Your heart squuezes over itself at his endless concern, spreading through your chest. Blinking rapidly, trying to push away the tears threatening to spill.

For the first time tonight, Beomgyu lets go of your hand—only to wrap both arms around you, one firm around your waist, the other reaching up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair.

"I’ll see you soon, Beomgyu," you murmur.

You feel him tilt his head slightly before pressing a fleeting, warm kiss to your temple. "I’ll see you soon."

Elevators terrify you. It scares you because it feels like everything could come crashing down at any second. Why would you trust something that rises so quickly—too fast?

It can't last, doesn't it?

You feel him snuggle to you more, and you chuckle, pressed against him, his scent, his arms around you, holding you safely—his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek, as if whispering that the fall you fear will never come.

Elevators terrified you.

You wish you could have captured Da-hee’s face when she saw you walking over with Beomgyu beside you, his hand resting firmly on your back. Her eyes widened, mouth slightly agape, before she shot you a knowing look.

Beomgyu offered her a quick thanks, the paper bag with your heels swinging from your hands, and you stood there in the fresh pair of sneakers he’d somehow found in your size—because he wanted to. His eyes met yours for just a second longer before he turned to leave.

The second you stepped into the parking lot, Da-hee lost it. She let out a squeal so loud you had to clamp a hand over her mouth, laughing as she practically vibrated with excitement. "What just happened?!" she whispered against your palm, her eyes sparkling.

That night, as soon as you got home, your phone rang. His name lit up the screen.

It took only a second before answering.

It was awkward at first—neither of you really knowing what to say—but before you knew it, you were talking about everything and nothing, voices laced with exhaustion but neither willing to hang up first. He was leaving in a few hours, and you had to be the one to convince him to sleep, reminding him—more than once—that he had a flight to catch.

You had just curled up in your blankets when your phone buzzed again. Dozy, you reached for it, thumb swiping across the screen.

Choi Beomgyu I’m sorry for making you wait. I promise we’ll make up for all the time we lost. Sleep well, beautiful.

Even as sleep pulled you under, the smile on your lips never faded.

You wake up to the relentless ringing of your doorbell. A groan slips past your lips as you burrow deeper into your blankets. It’s Sunday. No work. No alarms. Just sleep—at least, that was the plan.

The doorbell rings again.

With an exaggerated sigh, you drag yourself out of bed, doing the bare minimum to look somewhat presentable. Your hair is probably a mess, your face still puffy from sleep, but you don’t care. Whoever decided to disturb your well-earned rest better have a damn good reason.

You glance at the clock on your way out. Oh. It’s not even early—it’s almost 1 PM.

Squinting against the bright light as you crack the door open, you’re met with a sight that instantly wakes you up. A delivery man stands there, arms full, holding the biggest bouquet of red roses you’ve ever seen. The sheer number of petals is overwhelming, a deep sea of crimson spilling over the edges of his grasp.

"What—" Your brain struggles to catch up, and then it clicks. Beomgyu. He asked for your address yesterday.

"Y/N?" The man confirms, struggling under the bouquet.

Your eyes widen. "Damn, just how many are in there?"

"Three hundred and fifteen roses," he says, barely holding onto the mass of flowers. "Please sign here."

Three hundred and fifteen. You’re smiling as you take the pen from him.

You stumble slightly, still half-dazed as you carefully set the massive bouquet down, trying not to crush a single petal. Your fingers tremble as you reach for the small card nestled between the roses, your heart already beating a little too fast.

315 months of not being with you. This won’t make up for it, but I hope it makes you happy.

You inhale sharply. Your chest tightens. 315 months. He counted. Beomgyu counted the exact number of months you’ve been alive—how does he even think like this? Tears prick at your eyes before you can stop them. He’s ridiculous. He’s thoughtful in a way that completely undoes you.

Before you even realise what you’re doing, you’re running. Not walking—running. Because suddenly, every second without hearing his voice feels like a second wasted.

Your fingers fumble as you dial his number, pressing the phone to your ear. It barely rings once before the line clicks open—like he had been waiting for this call all along. “Beomgyu—” your voice comes out uneven, breathless.

He chuckles softly, “So… I take it you liked it?”

It’s already 3 PM.

Somehow, you lost track of time, carefully splitting the bundle into smaller arrangements, placing them in vases around your apartment. Now, your living room and kitchen are drenched in the scent of roses—not that you’re complaining.

Beomgyu had stayed on the phone with you the entire time, talking about his morning, his voice in the background as you worked. That is, until someone called for him on the other end, reminding him he had things to do.

You sighed when the call ended. It's sunday, and his sunday is like the worst day of your week. And you're here, resting.

Now, fresh out of the shower, droplets of water still clung to your skin as you stepped onto the cool tile. A shiver ran down your spine as you grabbed a towel, pressing it to your face, inhaling the soft, familiar scent of fabric softener.

Dressed in cozy clothes, you curled up on the couch, remote in one hand, a bowl of yogurt and berries resting on your lap. Television played softly as you mindlessly scrolled through channels, enjoying the quiet.

Until your phone buzzed. You unlocked it, eyes immediately landing on the message.

Nut-job Da-hee. Girl! He's extra glowy today!! OMG <link>

You tapped the link, expecting a video to pop up, but instead, it directed you to download an app. You went along with it, quickly signing in and typing out a cheeky username.

The video loaded—Soobin and Beomgyu, in a hotel room. A small table sat near the camera, cluttered with food containers and drinks. Beomgyu was on the bed, lounging comfortably but still close enough to be part of the frame.

And Da-hee wasn’t exaggerating—he looked good. The black shirt fit him just right, his dark hair falling effortlessly, lips tinted a soft pink. A phone in hand, completely unaware of just how stunning he looked.

An idea sparked in your mind.

"It's not barley tea, MOA," Beomgyu laughs, shaking his head as Soobin insists otherwise. No matter how many times their leader repeats himself, the comments keep flooding in, doubting him.

"Choi Beomgyu really traumatized you, huh?" he teases, eyes crinkling with amusement.

"What do you mean?" Beomgyu argues, but Soobin is already moving on, reading a new comment aloud. "Barley tea is healthy,"

Just then, Beomgyu’s phone buzzes. He glances down at the screen.

My Y/N Live?

His back immediately straightens. Shit. You’re watching? He’s about to type out a response when another message pops up.

You look handsome.

Beomgyu presses a hand over his mouth, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He wants to—

"Beomgyu, MOAs are asking what you're doing," Soobin interrupts, his eyes full of silent curiosity.

"Nothing," Beomgyu says too quickly. "Kai sent a meme." He shifts closer to the camera, Soobin right beside him. With his phone in his hands, he types a message, fully aware that Soobin is peeking at his screen. They probably look ridiculous—both of them staring down at their phones while thousands of people watch.

You're watching?

A few seconds pass before your reply pops up.

Yes.

Beomgyu inhales, trying to focus as Soobin keeps talking. His fingers move instinctively.

I'm shy.

Why? You look good.

A pause. Then another message.

Wait, stop looking at your phone. Let MOA see you? Username: 315flowersmyass.

Beomgyu chokes on a laugh. His lips curl up as he locks his phone and holds it up to the camera, as if to prove he’s done. As if to prove that he followed your words.

"So cute," he sings, the words slipping out without thought. The chat erupts, MOAs spamming hearts and messages.

Then he catches it.

315flowersmyass kekekeke -

His grin stretches wider. He closes his face on the screen. "Hi, MOA." He giggles.

This—this is cute. He’s always enjoyed going live, but now he knows you’re watching, he discovers a love for it he never even knew was possible.

The live eventually comes to an end. As soon as it does, Soobin turns to Beomgyu with a knowing smile. "I'm happy you finally found her," he says simply. Beomgyu doesn’t respond right away—just smiles, warmth spreading through his chest. Then his phone buzzes.

He checks it, and the moment he does, a gasp slips past his lips.

It’s a picture. You.

A snack is held near your face, your expression relaxed. You’re in cozy clothes, looking effortlessly beautiful, breathtaking. The picture made Beomgyu wish he could fly back to you right there and then. Over his shoulder, Soobin leans in. "Is that her?" he asks, then grins. "She's pretty."

Beomgyu doesn’t look away from his phone as his lips curl into a smile.

"She is," he murmurs, almost to himself.

"She’s here."

Ji-an’s voice pulls you from your focus. She’s standing beside your desk, phone pressed to her ear, while you scan last week’s finance report. Your eyes flick over the spreadsheet, catching an error in a formula, but before you can fix it, Ji-an calls your name. "Y/N, there’s a delivery for you. They’re at the door."

"Oh," you murmur, pushing your reading glasses up the bridge of your nose. Contacts felt like too much trouble today. "Thanks."

As you stand, a familiar warmth spreads through your chest. Outside, the delivery man hands you a bouquet—this time, white roses.

You peek at the note while walking back, the click of your heels filling the space. Your way back to your desk by the window. The skyline stretches endlessly beyond the glass, a vast expanse of city lights and open sky.

Ow! I fell! Fell for you~ —bg <3

A laugh escapes before you can stop it—he's so silly. One of the things you realised recently.

"That's the fourth bouquet this month, Y/N," Ji-an muses, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "I know you just met your soulmate, but flowers every week? That’s next-level sweet. I’m jealous—mine isn't really a flowers kind of person."

You return her smile, "Yeah, he's the sweetest."

It’s been a month since you met Beomgyu. A single day—that’s all you had together. And yet, in the weeks that followed, he never let distance become an excuse. Even with his tour in full swing, miles stretching endlessly between you, he still found ways to reach you. A call in the middle of the night. A voice note filled with sleepy laughter. And these flowers—his way of saying, I'm here. I'm coming back to you soon.

Ji-an leans against your desk, eyes glinting with curiosity. "So… when do we get to meet him?" she asks, wiggling her brows. "You know the drill—everyone meets everyone’s soulmate. It’s basically tradition. At least one or two quick bond drinks a year, right?"

The playful edge in her voice makes your stomach twist. Because as much as you want to laugh along, to pretend that everything is as simple as it should be… you know the truth.

They can’t meet him. Your friends, your family—none of them can. Maybe not now. Maybe not ever. You don’t even know when you will see him again.

You swallow, forcing down the sudden tightness in your throat. The warmth you felt just moments ago, thinking about him, is now laced with something heavier.

"He's—he's busy," you say, hoping your voice doesn’t betray you. You glance at the bouquet on your desk, fingers tracing the petals as if they hold an answer you don’t have. "Maybe next time."

The day finally ends, and you’re grateful Ji-an didn’t push for more.

You clutch the bouquet a little tighter as you step into the elevator, the faint scent of roses lingering in the air. By the time you make it to the parking lot, exhaustion weighs on you—but then you remember.

You forgot to send a text. Pulling out your phone, you type: I’m heading home now.

The message sends, and a small smile tugs at your lips. Beomgyu is probably fast asleep by now, lost in a time zone opposite yours. He won’t see it for hours, but you text him anyway—because you can already hear his voice in your head, playful and pouty. You forgot to tell me again, he’d whine. Can you please let me know?

You’ve learned a lot from him in such a short time. How simple it is to make someone feel remembered. How easy it is to reach out. How even in the busiest moments, there’s always a second to say, I haven’t forgotten you.

Because that’s what he’s been doing for you all along.

You slip your phone back into your pocket, ready to head to your car when someone stops you. Your steps slow, brows knitting together as your scan lands on a girl—sitting right on the hood of your car.

Your car. She’s perched there like she belongs, fingers idly tracing patterns against the metal.

"Hey," you call out, keeping your voice even. "It’s not really polite to sit on someone else’s car, sweetheart."

Her head lifts, eyes locking onto yours with disdain, "Don't sweetheart me, you slut."

The venom in her words knocks the air from your lungs. Your breath catches, shock flashing through you as she stands. She’s young. Much younger than you.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you fucking deaf?" she snaps.

Your instincts flare—this isn’t normal. You take a step back, "Leave. Now. Before I call the police."

But she doesn’t move. Instead, she tilts her head, and smirked. "You’re Beomgyu’s soulmate, aren’t you?"

Your body locks up. How does she know? Your fingers tighten around the stems of the flowers, the thorns pressing into your palm. You want to speak, to deny, to do something, but the words won’t come.

Because you know—whatever you say next could make this worse.

She clicks her tongue, taking a slow step toward you. "Do this while I’m still being nice," she says, voice eerily light. "Stay away from him. Or I’ll destroy everything." She tilts her head again, a slow blink. "I’d rather see him ruined than with you, unnie."

She steps past you then, her shoulder knocking into yours just hard enough to make you stumble back. Your hands cold, heart hammering against your ribs. She doesn’t look back. Not until she’s a few feet away.

"Don’t think I won’t do it," she murmurs. "Just think about how I knew. Your name. Your workplace. Your parking spot."

She smiles, "Don’t test me."

I’m heading home now.

Beomgyu rubs the sleep from his eyes, his fingers fumbling for his phone the moment he wakes up. Checking for your messages has become second nature—his first instinct, before he even fully shakes off sleep.

The corners of his lips curl into a soft smile as he reads your text. You remembered.

God, he misses you.

When he gets back, he’s not letting you out of his sight. He’ll beg his company if he has to—anything to steal just a little more time with you. He wants to spoil you, to show up with flowers every single day just to see that shy smile of yours. He’d buy you things you didn’t even know you needed, take pictures of you at every chance, make playlists for you, drag you into late-night game sessions just to hear you laugh and call him ridiculous. Love is effort. That’s what his parents always told him. He’d give it—all of it.

Maybe one day, he’d convince you to visit Daegu with him. Introduce you to his family, let his mom fuss over you, watch his brother tease him relentlessly. And Toto… Would you like Toto?

The thought makes him chuckle as he taps your contact and presses call. It rings. Once. Twice. Three times. His smile falters.

Then, voicemail.

His brows knit together. He tries again. Straight to voicemail. The phone feels heavier in his hand now.

It’s the first time you haven’t picked up.

He’s in the van now. It’s been hours.

Beomgyu grips his phone, scrolling through his notifications, eyes darting to every new alert. His heart lifts for a second—only to sink just as fast when he realizes it’s not you. The screen dims in his hands, but he doesn’t put it down. He can’t.

"You still haven’t heard from her?" Soobin asked. He’s the only one still awake, eyes heavy but observant. Beomgyu hadn’t meant to make it obvious, but he’s never been good at hiding things—not to his members.

"No," Beomgyu mutters, shaking his head. His throat feels tight. "We always talk before she falls asleep."

Soobin exhales, tilting his head back against the seat. "She probably crashed as soon as she got home. Long day, maybe?" He keeps his tone easy, reassuring. "Just focus on later's concert. She’ll probably be awake by then."

Beomgyu nods, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. You’re right. Thanks, hyung."

Soobin claps a hand on his back. "Don't think about it too much."

Beomgyu did his best to push thoughts of you aside during the concert. He smiled, he sang, he danced—gave everything to the stage like he always did. But the second he was backstage, drenched in sweat and breathless from the high of performing, his hands were already reaching for his phone.

Still nothing.

Back at the hotel, Soobin and Yeonjun made sure he ate. He forced down a few bites, just enough to keep them from worrying. Now, fresh from a shower, exhaustion settles deep in his bones. His muscles ache, the weight of the night pressing down on him, but sleep won’t come.

His phone sits beside him on the bed. You’re probably asleep. He tells himself that. He should leave it alone.

But knowing doesn’t stop him from pressing call. It rings.

Once. Twice.

He’s about to give up when the line clicks.

“H-Hello?” Beomgyu stutters, his voice unsteady. No response. His heart pounds as he pulls the phone away, checking the screen just to be sure. The call is still connected. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Beomgyu.” The way you say his name makes his breath catch.

“Are you okay? I’ve been—”

“Beomgyu.” You cut him off again, your voice softer this time. “Yeah, I’m… okay.” He hears you take a shaky breath. “I’ve just been thinking for the past couple of hours, and…” His grip on the phone tightens.

"What is it?"

“Maybe we should lie low for a bit? You’re busy, and you’re at the peak of your career.” A pause. “It’s not that I’m going away,” you add quickly, “I’m your soulmate, after all.” The last part is barely a whisper.

Beomgyu shoots up from where he’s sitting, running a hand through his hair, fingers pulling at the strands. He feels cold all over. His pulse pounds in his ears.

“Where is this coming from?” His voice is raw, edged dangerously close to panic. “What happened, Y/N?”

“Nothing, really,” you say too quickly. “It just… crossed my mind.” There’s a pause. A beat of silence that feels like a lifetime. “It’s late there. It’s 2 AM. Please sleep.”

His chest tightens. “Are you breaking up with me?” The words feel foreign in his mouth. His voice drops to a whisper. “Do you not want me? Do you not want this?”

“Beomgyu, please.” You voice wavers. “Our fate is certain. But right now… I just feel like it’s not working.” You exhale slowly. “You should sleep, okay? Let’s talk again… soon.”

And then the line goes dead.

Beomgyu stares at his screen, his fingers frozen, his mind racing to process what just happened. His chest caves in, breath shaky as he stumbles back onto the bed. And then—he breaks.

His hands cover his face, shoulders trembling as it all crashes down on him. He had a feeling when you didn't answer his call. A whisper of doubt, an inkling of fear.

And now, it’s real.

4 AM, and Beomgyu still hasn’t slept. His eyes burn from exhaustion, but his mind won’t shut off. He’s been texting you, calling you—over and over—but every attempt goes straight to voicemail. At some point, your phone must have died, or worse, you turned it off.

He lies on the stiff hotel bed, staring at the ceiling. It’s unfamiliar. Cold. But then again, when was the last time anything in his life felt familiar? Felt like home?

His phone dings.

He scrambles for it, heartbeat hammering, but before he can check the notification, an unknown number flashes across the screen. It’s stupid to answer an unknown call at this hour. Their managers had given them talks about it. But something—something in his gut—tells him to pick up.

“Hello?” His voice is hoarse.

“Beomgyu.” A pause. Then— “It’s Da-hee,”

His breath catches.

“She’s going to be angry if she finds out I called you,” Da-hee says, voice hushed, urgent. “But I can’t just sit back and watch this happen. Just listen to me. I’m going to tell you everything—from the start.”

"Please."

"Don’t think I won’t do it," she murmurs. "Just think about how I knew. Your name. Your workplace. Your parking spot."

She smiles, "Don’t test me."

You take another sip of whiskey, curled up on the couch, knees drawn to your chest. The tears won’t stop. No matter how many times you wipe them away, they keep coming, slipping down your cheeks, burning just as much as the liquor sliding down your throat.

Your thoughts won’t stop either.

Beomgyu.

He has everything—his dream, his career, a future so bright it could swallow you whole. He has the world at his feet. And you? You’re just… you. Not worth the risk. Not worth the detour. Maybe this was always how it was supposed to be. Maybe that’s why your paths were never meant to cross in the first place. You saw the consequence, felt it when you passed the Hybe building, that heavy reminder of the impossible divide between your worlds.

It should be enough. Enough that you got to know him, enough that he even knows your name. Enough that you get to see him on a screen. It should be enough.

But is it?

“Fuck,” you choke out, voice breaking. You press the heel of your palm against your eyes, as if that could stop the ache. “Just when I finally saw you… What a joke.” You shake your head, wiping your face with the sleeve of your sweater. “The universe is a fucking idiot for ever thinking we were meant to be.”

You take another drink, and it burns.

“Y/N.”

You blink up, vision swimming, to see Da-hee standing in the doorway, concern etched across her face.

“I’ve been ringing your doorbell,” she says, stepping closer. “I used the spare key—why are you crying?”

You don’t respond. You just stare at her, eyes glassy, cheeks wet. She moves toward you, eyes flickering to the near-empty glass in your hand. You’ve been drinking for hours. You already called in sick to work—there’s no way you could function like this.

"Oh, honey," She sighs, reaches for the glass, and you don’t fight it. You let it go. "What happened?"

“Fate is already taking back what it let me borrow.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Da-hee hears it. She your holds your hand.

“What are you talking about?” she asks. “Explain.”

You swallow hard. Your throat feels tight, like every word is fighting to stay buried. But you force them out.

“A sasaeng,” you murmur, watching as Da-hee’s eyes widen in alarm. “She found out about me. She knows everything, Da-hee. Where I live, where I work, my family—everything.” You suck in a shaky breath, blinking back fresh tears. “And the worst of it, she fucking said she’s going to ruin Beomgyu.”

The moment the words leave your lips, your resolve shatters. You cry—like a child finally breaking after being scolded in front of everyone, holding it all in until no one’s around to see. Da-hee pulled you into her arms as you sobbed. You cling to her, hands fisting her sweater. “I have to let him go,” you choke out. “I can’t do this to him. To them. They don’t deserve this.”

Da-hee pulls back, her hands firm on your shoulders. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “You don’t have to do this alone. We can go to the police. We can tell Beomgyu—”

“And then what?” you cut in, voice hollow. “What can they really do? Stop her from telling the world? Keep every single person quiet? Even if she gets caught, the damage will already be done.”

Da-hee doesn’t answer. She just sinks onto the couch beside you, eyes shining with unshed tears, because she knows you well. She knows you too well—knows that the emotional version of you wouldn’t be able to hear her, not right now. Not until the sobs quiet down and the pain in your chest eases just a little. So, she just holds you.

Your phone screen lights up between you. Another call.

Beomgyu. He’s still calling. Still trying.

"I don’t think it’s best to answer it right now—"

But you don’t listen to Da-hee’s warning. Your fingers tremble as they hover over the screen. You have to end this. Now. While you still have the strength. Because deep down, you know—

If you wake up tomorrow, you might not be able to let him go.

“H-Hello?” He stutters on the other line, his voice unsteady. Your breath catches in your throat. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Everything. Everything is wrong.

“Beomgyu.”

I miss you. How can I go on without you?

“Are you okay? I’ve been—”

“Beomgyu.” You cut him off again, your voice softer this time. “Yeah, I’m… okay.” You take a shaky breath. “I’ve just been thinking for the past couple of hours, and…” You hesitate.

I’m not okay. I’ve been thinking about you, only you, and how my existence could ruin everything you’ve worked for.

"What?" His inhale is sharp, laced with the beginnings of panic.

“Maybe we should lie low for a bit? You’re busy, and you’re at the peak of your career.” You pause, fingers trembling. “It’s not that I’m going away,” you add quickly, desperate to believe your own words. “I’m your soulmate, after all.” The last part is barely a whisper.

I should be replaceable. And I shouldn’t be your priority. You press a hand to your mouth, as if you can keep the words from spilling out—keep the truth from bleeding through.

“Where is this coming from? What happened, Y/N?”

My heart is breaking. And you’re too far away to hold it together.

“Nothing, really,” you say too quickly. “It just… crossed my mind.” You pause, swallowing. “It’s late there. It’s 2 AM. Please sleep.”

Please sleep. And forget about me.

“Are you breaking up with me? Do you not want me? Do you not want this?”

I want you more than anything. That’s why I have to do this. If I can save you from losing everything, I’ll do it. Even if it means losing you.

“Beomgyu, please.” You voice wavers. “Our fate is certain. But right now… I just feel like it’s not working.” You exhale slowly. “You should sleep, okay? Let’s talk again… soon.”

You press the end button.

The sobs rip through you, shaking your whole body and stealing the air from your lungs. You curl in on yourself, pressing your fist to your mouth, as if that could stop the sound, as if that could stop the pain. How can love be this cruel? How can the same thing that made you feel so alive now leave you feeling so hollow?

But this is for him. You tell yourself that over and over, like a mantra, like a prayer, like a desperate attempt to make it hurt less.

You’ll do this for him. Even if it destroys you.

Da-hee wipes at her eyes, sniffling as she looks at you—curled up in the fetal position, your body tense like you’re bracing for impact even in sleep. She managed to get you into bed, but it doesn’t feel like enough.

She’d do anything for you.

Carefully, she tiptoes to the bedside table and picks up your phone. Her heart pounds. If anyone’s watching me, I’ll beg for forgiveness later. But right now, she comes first.

She types in your usual password. 8888. Incorrect. She frowns, thinking. You changed it? Then, almost without realizing it, her fingers move on their own. 0313. The screen unlocks.

Beomgyu’s birthday.

Da-hee lets out a small, disbelieving laugh. “You idiot,” she whispers, shaking her head. “You love him so much, and yet you’re willing to walk away. How can you be this selfless?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she scrolls through your contacts, searching for his name. Her thumb hovers over it for only a second before she types his number on her own phone.

You’ll be furious. You might never forgive her. But if there’s even the slightest chance this stops you from making the biggest mistake of your life—she’ll take that risk.

Someone has to tell him the things that you can’t.

The line connects, and Da-hee inhales. “She’s going to be angry if she finds out I called you, but I can’t just sit back and watch this happen. Just listen to me. I’m going to tell you everything—from the start.”

She’ll prepare her apology later—more than that, she hopes Beomgyu will fight for you.

"I want to go home." Beomgyu’s voice is firm, but his hands are clenched into fists at his sides. His manager looks up from his laptop, brows furrowing.

The door bursts open. Soobin stumbles in, slightly out of breath—he must’ve run after him. Beomgyu doesn’t care.

Beomgyu already knows everything—Da-hee told him. Every sickening detail. And now, standing here, he has no idea how to fix this. No idol has ever come out of this unscathed. But none of that matters right now. His only priority is getting to you.

His manager sighs, already exasperated. “You’re flying back home in a few days, Beomgyu.”

“No,” he says, jaw tightening. “I mean now. I need a few days. To rest. To handle something personal.”

“You know your schedule is packed—”

“Then move everything,” Beomgyu interrupts sharply. He feels Soobin’s hand on his shoulder, hears his name spoken softly, but he shrugs it off. No one is stopping him from getting to you.

His manager sighs again, firmer this time. “We can’t do that.”

“You won’t even try?” His voice wavers between frustration and desperation. “You won’t even let the management know?”

“We can’t make last-minute changes like this.”

Beomgyu lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Right. Of course.” He clenches his fists. All his life, he’s done everything they asked. Pushed through exhaustion, smiled through sickness, showed up even when his body begged him to stop. “I won’t follow you on this,” he says, voice steady. “I can’t do this. Not this time. If you won’t let me go, I’ll still leave.”

“Beomgyu, let’s talk about this when you’re calm,” Soobin says gently, patting Beomgyu’s back. “Please.”

Beomgyu turns to him, his eyes dark with frustration. “I love MOAs, hyung. I love all of you. They gave me everything.” His voice wavers, but he pushes through. “But Y/N… she is my everything.” His breath hitches. He can't even explain it properly. How badly he needs you. “You’re lucky. All of you. Your soulmates—"

“So this is about your soulmate?” The manager exhales sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “Don’t you see? She’s making you choose between her and your career.”

“No.” Beomgyu’s voice breaks, his chest tightens, and the lump in his throat is unbearable. “She’s not making me choose. She’s already choosing for me.” His next breath is shaky. “She’s leaving. Can you let your own soulmate leave?”

The room falls silent. Soobin watches him, stunned. He’d never seen Beomgyu like this before—this angry, this desperate. And the question stings the older.

Beomgyu turns away, blinking rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. Explaining further is useless. He’s already said everything that matters. Nothing is going to stop him now. When he steps into the hallway, he sees Yeonjun standing there, leaning against the wall.

He’s been listening the whole time.

Yeonjun immediately reaches out, tugging at his arm. “Yah, Choi Beomgyu, come on,” he says quietly. “Let’s talk with everyone.” Beomgyu exhales shakily. If there's anyone he owes an explanation. It's them. His brothers.

So Beomgyu told them everything.

About the sasaeng. About the threats. About how you were walking away to protect him. About how he refused to let that happen. And just like he knew they would, the four of them listened—not as bandmates, not as colleagues, but as brothers.

No one understood him better than they did.

They didn’t tell him to reconsider. They didn’t tell him to stay. Instead, they held onto him, arms wrapped tight, as if they could shield him from the storm that was already brewing. They prayed—not for him to change his mind, but for the world to understand.

Kai was the first to break. His voice barely above a whisper, “Is it really worth it… if the world doesn’t want us to have soulmates?”

It shattered something in all of them.

Beomgyu didn’t answer—not with words. Because what kind of world was it, where love had to be hidden? Where choosing your own heart felt like a betrayal?

With the help of his members, he managed to slip through the cracks, securing a last-minute flight. Now, as he sat on the plane, adjusting his mask, pulling his cap low, he caught his own reflection in the window.

Maybe it was time. Time to stop pretending. Time to stop hiding.

Because an idol in love isn’t supposed to be shameful. Because having a soulmate shouldn’t be treated like a scandal. Because loving you would never make him love his dream any less.

He just had to believe in MOAs. In the people who gave him everything. What he has with them, he treasures so much that the thought of baring his heart isn’t impossible.

And he would.

Completely.

He would trade it all, just to see you again.

The pounding in your head hasn’t let up, a dull, relentless throb that even the hot shower couldn’t wash away. You pop an aspirin, sighing as you press your fingertips against your temples, willing the ache—and everything else—to disappear.

Then the doorbell rings. Right. The food.

Dragging your feet toward the door, you barely think as you swing it open—then freeze.

Choi Beomgyu.

His face bare, a backpack slung over his shoulder. A car idles in your driveway, but you barely process it. Your eyes lock onto the messy strands of blonde peeking out from under his hoodie, his gaze searching yours. He looks at you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks.

“Y/N—” The door slams shut in his face before he can say another word.

Your breath stumbles. Your pulse pounds. The damp strands of your hair cling to your neck as you press your back against the door, fingers gripping the handle like it’s the only thing keeping you upright. Shit. He fucking looks good with his new dyed hair— wait. Don't think about that. What is he doing here?

“I’m parked out front,” his voice comes through the door, muffled but you hear it. “I just want to talk.” A shaky inhale. Then softer, “Baby, I’m here. When you’re ready, just open the door.”

His footsteps retreat.

You start pacing, your heart ricocheting against your ribs. He’s here. He came all this way. After everything you stupidly said. You hurt him yet—

The doorbell rings again.

You yank it open, “Wait, my ass—”

“Chinese takeout for Y/N?” The delivery guy blinks at you, holding up the bag.

“Oh.” You blush, embarrassed. You fumble for your wallet, signing the receipt with shaky hands. Your eyes keep drifting past him, toward the car still parked in front of your house.

Just like what he said. He's there.

The hours slip away unnoticed, morning fading seamlessly into afternoon. Every time you steal a glance through the curtain, he’s still there. Evening creeps in as you start making dinner. Without thinking, you plate portions for two. Your hands hesitate over the dishes, your heart heavy. When you check the clock, it’s 8 p.m. He’s been outside for twelve hours—silent, waiting.

Just like he promised. He never knocked again. Twelve hours. Your hands tremble as you turn off the stove. He must’ve just come from another gruelling day, looking like he’d stepped off a plane after hours in the air—rumpled, drained, and still without rest.

Why did you let him wait this long?

You don’t stop to think anymore. You grab your keys, shove your feet into your slippers, and head straight for his car, blinking back the tears that blur your vision.

He must see you coming because, before you even reach him, the car door swings open.

And there he is.

His hoodie is pushed back now, his hair slightly dishevelled like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times. His face is drawn, exhausted. His eyes—red-rimmed, heavy, like he’s been crying for hours. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“Come inside,” Your voice cracks, but you don’t stop. You just turn around and head back toward the door. You don’t have to look back to know he’s following.

He steps inside, his tall frame filling the space as you quietly shut the door behind him. Your apartment looks small with him around. When you turn, your eyes meet, "Beomgyu—"

You barely get his name out before he’s on you. He can't stop himself anymore. It’s how you looked outside, so effortless—your hair pinned up, the simplicity of your everyday clothes, and yet, you somehow seemed untouchable. He envisions a life with you, a routine, your soft smile waiting for him when he comes home, you looking like something angelic—his hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body heat searing through your clothes. His lips crash into yours—hungry, desperate, like he’s been starved for you. His mouth moves against yours, claiming, taking.

His fingers thread through your hair, tilting your head back as his tongue slides against yours. His hands roam down, gripping, pulling, making sure you feel every bit of him. He grabs your wrists, lifting them, wrapping your arms around his neck as his lips move to your jaw, then to your neck, his breath ragged as he nips your sensitive skin. "I missed you," he murmurs. Another kiss—hotter, deeper, his body pressing your back against the wall. "I got fucking scared you'd never open the door."

His movements were hurried, frantic, as if he were afraid you’d disappear if he let go. In one swift motion, he lifted you, his steps unsteady as he carried you to the bedroom. Your bedroom. The air felt heavy as he laid you down on the mattress.

"I get it. I know you don’t mean it—that you really believe this is for the best." His voice softens, almost breaking. He presses his crotch to yours, eyes seeking yours. "But did it ever cross your mind what I want? What I think is best for me? For us?"

“I'm sorry,” you said weakly, your hands clutching at his shirt, your voice trembling as much as your resolve.

"I'll always forgive you." His hands moved to your shoulders, then slid down to your waist, pulling you to him. He grinds desperately to you. You never knew that lips could talk without uttering a word as he captures your lips again and again. "Because your words could never hurt me as much as your leaving does."

You surrendered to his touch, your body softening beneath him. Your hands gripped his shoulders for balance as he pressed you deeper into the mattress, which groaned under your shifting weight. You reached for Beomgyu’s lips, catching him off guard as you kissed him with everything you had, tongues colliding in a heated frenzy. His hand slid between your thighs, cupping your middle and sending a shiver through you. But even in the haze of his taste, a heavy guilt settled in your chest. "Gyu,"

"I need you, baby. Or I'll go crazy." His breaths were ragged, syncing with your every moan as his tongue tangled with yours. Your fingers tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer, urging him on. His body pressed against yours, grinding to yours, while his hands roamed over your skin, igniting every nerve he touched. His lips trailed downward, leaving soft kisses that melted into your flesh, a path leading straight to your core.

He stripped you of every barrier, leaving you bare under his gaze. His eyes shimmered with adoration and awe as they traced your body. You hadn’t realized how powerless you were against him until your legs parted, welcoming him. He's on top of you, looked at you like you were sacred, like you were his entire world.

Beomgyu's eyes never left yours as his fingers found your hand, seeking the place where the string was tied. The red thread appears, and he lifts it to his lips. A kiss—featherlight, reverent—pressed against the place where destiny tied you to him.

“It's going to be okay…” he whispered between kisses, his voice breaking in a way that made your heart ache. Tears pricked your eyes because you wanted to believe him. You needed to believe him. His hands explored further, his fingers shakily reaching for your clit, pinching softly then roughly rubbing, coaxing sounds from your lips that you didn’t know you were capable of.

"I'll fix it for us, for you." He looks at you—wanting to see every expression you make. He’s going to fuck you until you cum all over his dick and then he’ll do it again. Until you won't be able to think about leaving him anymore. He goes down further—kisses down and the smell of you is divine.

His face hovers and with his fingers he spreads you apart. He swallows—salivating. He sticks his tongue out, lightly licking your clit. You taste so—He buries his face in, tongue inside, hands on your hips. "Shit, you were really gonna leave me? And I was gonna miss this?" He groans, lapping up, sucking the arousal out of you. He moves up, nose bumping on your clit then he suckles more. His cock throbs with every taste of you, the way you melt against his mouth driving him insane. He feels you slick against his chin, but he doesn’t stop—doesn’t leave a single inch of you untouched by his warm, greedy mouth. It was as if your body had been crafted for his lips alone, flesh and heat meant to be devoured at his leisure.

When you tug hard on his hair, he groans against you, finally pulling back. His lips glisten as he moves up your body. He crashes his mouth onto yours, the kiss deep and hungry, and you taste yourself on his tongue—messy, desperate, a mix of him and you, blurring the lines between who’s devouring who.

“I love you,” he murmured as he positioned himself, slowly sliding into you. A low, guttural sound escaped him as he felt you, tight and warm, pulling him deeper. He's sure he'll come right there and then. His face buried itself in the curve of your neck, and his words spilled out—"I'm sorry it took this long."

"You feel so so good, don't ask me to stop, please." His touch was gentle even as his thrusts inside you grew more desperate. He cradled your head, kissed away your tears, and pressed his lips to your cheek. “I’m in love with you, Y/N,"

“I love you,” you replied, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss as you both unravelled together, bodies trembling in unison. Your thighs clenched tightly around his waist.

"Beomgyu, I— It was selfish of me—" You whispered his name and it made tears well up in his eyes. His hand gently pushed the damp strands of hair from your face, and he pressed tender kisses along your cheeks, your temple, and your jaw.

“Shh, no,” he whispered, pulling you against his chest, holding you like he was afraid you’d slip away. His lips brushed the crown of your head. "None of this is your fault," he murmurs. "But you have to trust me now."

All the horrors inside you dissolve with every kiss he presses to your skin, each one stripping away the fear, the doubt, the self-imposed distance. He kisses you like he’s rewriting everything, like he knows exactly where every shattered piece of you belongs. As if he’s memorized the map of your ruin and decided, you were always meant to be whole.

And you let him.

Because now, in his arms, with his lips claiming yours over and over, only pulls away when breathing becomes a necessity—his forehead pressing against yours for a fleeting second before his mouth finds yours again, as if letting go for too long might break him, you realise the truth—it was foolish of you to think that pushing him away would solve it all.

It was foolish to ever believe you could ever live without him.

Waking up with Beomgyu’s arm draped over your bare waist felt like something out of a dream.

The second you tried to slip away, he pulled you right back in, burying his face in the crook of your neck with a sleepy rough hum. His grip was loose but unwilling, like even in sleep, he couldn’t bear to let you go. He filled your morning with lazy kisses, tangled limbs, and muffled laughter, his fingers tracing over your bare skin.

You could live a lifetime like this and still never believe it was real.

Now, you sit at your vanity, dressed for work, fastening an earring as Beomgyu, fresh from the shower, tugs on a clean hoodie. He catches your eye in the mirror and grins as he walks over. “What are you doing baby? Dolled up and all.”

“Drying my hair,” you say, “I’m actually early today. Da-hee is dropping by later too, by the way.”

“Okay. I’ll drive you.” He leans down, eyes flickering to the hairdryer on the desk. He picks it up, flipping it on. “I know how to do this.”

You give him a skeptical look. “Oh, really?”

“Uh-huh. I could probably do your makeup too.” He presses a teasing kiss to your cheek, making you giggle.

The warmth of the dryer was against your scalp as he carefully runs his fingers through your hair, drying it with surprising patience. His touch lingers even after the dryer clicks off, his fingers gently gathering strands of your hair.

“I used to braid my mom’s hair when I was younger,” he murmurs. “I want to do yours too.” You nod, watching him through the mirror, watching the way he looks at you with so much quiet devotion it nearly steals your breath. "It will be an honour to do this every day for you, you know."

And just like that, you fall in love all over again.

You sit in the passenger seat, your hair loosely braided—the proof that he wasn’t just bluffing. His fingers lace with yours as he drives, his thumb idly tracing circles against your skin. Every time the car slows at a red light, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I love you,”

He grins, that same cheeky, heart-stopping smile. "Love you more," he replies.

You let out a quiet breath, leaning your head against the window, watching the world blur past. But then—out of the corner of your eye—you see it.

And your breath catches in your throat.

Rain Lilies.

Flowers that shine the brightest in the wake of the storm.

It looks out of place. You remembered last night’s rain. It had come down in furious sheets, drowning the streets, washing everything away. The pavement is still slick, puddles reflecting the grey morning sky. And yet—there it is.

Small. Alive.

In the middle of a city that never stops, where people rush past without a second glance, too busy to care about a thing so insignificant, so easily overlooked—it stands, untouched. A quiet defiance against the cruelty that tried to take it.

It looks out of place, and it's beautiful.

If something this fragile can survive and still bloom—maybe, just maybe, so can you.

"Hyung!" Beomgyu’s laughter rings through the air as he runs straight into his brother’s arms. They embrace, laughing like they’re kids again, the older one attempting to lift him off the ground. Behind them, his parents rush to catch up, smiles stretched wide across their faces. The house, with its endless stretch of green, looks like out of a memory—soft, a paradise.

Beomgyu turns to you then, his hand resting gently on your back. His eyes soft when he speaks.

"Mom, Dad," he says, "This is Y/N."

You bow politely, but before you can even rise fully, his mother pulls you into a hug. "I’ve wanted to meet you for so long, dear," she murmurs against your shoulder.

When Beomgyu’s father steps forward, you feel your chest tighten. He smiles, and for a second, it’s like looking at Beomgyu in the years to come. His hug is just as warm, just as safe.

Lunch is a blur of laughter and stories, of hands brushing, of Beomgyu sneaking glances at you when he thinks you aren’t looking.

His parents laugh along with your stories—the one about meeting his sweet members, and how Da-hee had begged to meet them in person. You describe her pale face, wide-eyed and on the verge of fainting the entire time, and how Beomgyu grew irritated every time Yeonjun jokingly flirted with you, insisting he should be your favorite.

But it’s the story of Beomgyu meeting your family last week that really gets them, how he’d been so polite, yet adorably nervous, his hands fidgeting in his lap as he tried to make the right impression.

His mom grins, her eyes bright with excitement. “I’ll have to meet them soon,” she says, already making plans in her head, as if you’ve always been part of the family. At some point, Beomgyu tells them you’ll be staying for the week. They are overjoyed, and Toto, takes an instant liking to you.

Beomgyu sits on the porch, it's evening now.

This deck—he’s spent years here—on this very step, staring out at the world, wondering when he’d find you. Wondering if he ever would.

His fingers tighten around the handwritten letter on his phone screen, the words waiting to be sent out into the world. His heart pounds. What if they don’t understand? What if this changes everything? What if—

Laughter drifts from inside the house, yours mixing with his mom’s, his brother’s. It was the only assurance he'd ever need.

He exhales sharply, thumb hovering for only a second longer before he clicks post. It loads. He doesn’t watch. Just locks his phone and sets it aside as the front door creaks open.

"You’re trying to escape me, cookie?" Your voice is playful, arms crossing as you step toward him. Beomgyu only grins, shaking his head at the nickname his father gave him. He slips an arm around your shoulders as soon as you sit down, pulling you while he presses kisses on the side of your head.

"Never," His fingers find yours, a new habit of his—thumb caressing over your ring finger. His thoughts slip to the diamond ring hidden in his dorm, the one he bought after a week of meeting you. He just needs to find the right moment, the right words. Because even now, after everything, you still make him nervous. The way his heart races when you walk into a room, how everything seems to stop for a moment when you look his way.

He meets your smile with one of his own. Would he ever be this lucky in another life? To find you, to love you—not by destiny’s design, not by some divine script, but by choice?

Even without a soulmate mark, even without fate—

It would always be you.

Maybe in another world, the sky is burning, the world is ending, an apocalypse, and he still falls in love with you. Maybe in another life, he is a man undone, a husband who shatters more than he mends, but even then, he would spend eternity piecing himself back together just to be worthy of you.

Beomgyu knows this much: no matter the lifetime, no matter the universe, he will love you. Again and again, without hesitation, without end. As if loving you is written into the very fabric of his existence.

His fingers graze your cheek, and you lean into him like you were always meant to—like the universe has been bringing you back to him for centuries. Your smile reaches your eyes, soft and certain. His missing piece. The better half of him.

Beomgyu looks at you, and to him, you are something that comes after the rain—the hush of the earth reborn, the golden light breaking through the clouds, the promise that even the chaos was worth it.

He can’t help himself. Not when you’re looking at him like that. Not when your smile is the only thing he ever wants to see.

So he leans in.

The phone sits forgotten, lighting up with messages—teary words, heartfelt congratulations, the world calling for him. But none of it matters.

Because right now, you are in his arms. Right now, he is kissing the soft of your addicting lips. And right now, that is all that ever was, all that ever is, all that ever will be.

THE END.

taglist: I love you @.beombunni @.lovingbeomgyudayone @.virtaideen @.hyukascampfire @.fancypeacepersona @.bamgeutori @.lilbrorufr @.beomieeeeeeeeeeees @.xylatox @.imlonelydontsendhelp @.yunverie @.baekberrie @.soobabby @.hyunelixbun @.kejingken @.blossommi @.sumzysworld @.tyunningstar @.filmnings @.channieismylove @.frankghgr @.missychief1404 @.fatbixchwithanopinion @.saejinniestar @.brrytears @.sbnslver @.hoefororeo @.pagelets @.urlocal-moa @.ewsnup @.moagyuu @.melmochii

[milkbobatyun]

xoxo, hugs and kisses: tomorrow x together

genre: fluff, scenario-based, ot5

summary: you are a simple person. you see a cute trend on tiktok for couples? of course you're going to try it out with your beloved tubatu lover. after all, who are they to say no to you?

word count: 2092

a/n: something slightly different to my usual taehyun-focused fics, this amazing idea came from none other than @yeonjunsfox ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) it took me a while to put together cus i wanted to post it with all the members together. i tried to make this as accurate as possible to their irl personalities (or at least from my understanding of their personalities) the images i've added are for visual reference and are not mine, credit goes to their original owners.

your inspiration came from your endless scrolling on tiktok one fateful night. it only took 3 videos of watching couples try the trend of the lipstick kiss challenge for you to be tempted into trying it with your own boyfriend and it went a little bit like this:

yeonjun:

it was perfect timing that you asked actually. he had just received a package from dior, requesting that he promote their new series of lipstick shades, so clearly, he was delighted you’d ask. 

he would definitely be super cocky about it. once he deemed that there are enough kiss marks on his face, he would begin an entire photoshoot, with you being his dedicated photographer.

under the street lamp, in the park, in the reflection of the nearby convenience store mirror, no matter where, he would be there, striking a pose and showing off the kiss marks.

in fact, when the cashier working the late night shift was greeted by the sight of yeonjun strutting into the store with you in tow and shades of red littering his face, the worker was both confused and concerned. what the hell happened??

seeing the worker’s confused face, yeonjun would grab your wrist, dragging you to the counter, motioning to the kiss marks on his face before pointing out your smudged lipstick.

“yeah, this piece of work, was made by them.” he gleefully announces.

hearing him brag about this to everyone he meets, whether it be some diligently exercising ahjummas, a young couple simply walking their dog, or the stray cat caught up in his mischief, it never failed to make you turn a shade of crimson similar to your lipstick shade, making your face burn and your ears heat up.

if you thought he was bad enough when you were doing the photoshoot, filming that tiktok for the promotional video was something else.

setting up the phone, you put on the perfect shade of red, pretending to accidentally smudge it so yeonjun would wipe it away with his thumb.

he did do that and following the script, leaned in for the kiss, with love and something a little bit more in his eyes.

when the both of you broke away from your kiss, it only took one look in the phone camera for you to confidently say that he smudged your lipstick even more than it was before.

you shot yeonjun a look of disapproval, but all you got in return was a cheeky grin.

you best bet that he would put the photos you took to good use, posting them on his instagram page as a hard launch of you.

soobin:

oh boy was soobin ecstatic that you had asked him to do the challenge with him.

with an excited little cheer, he would get everything ready for you, helping you to amass your collection of lipsticks, even offering to go out and quickly go buy more if you dont have that many lying around.

like yeonjun, soobin would want to take a photoshoot, but much more toned-down and subtle. he would sneak photos while you’re distracted with planting kisses around his face.

soobin’s long body is stretched out on his bed in the dorm, in a leisurely manner, while you’re perched comfortably on his legs while you begin to make your masterpiece

your plans of planting as many kisses as possible is disrupted by your new fixation on his squishy cheeks and cute dimples. even while you’re pinching and kneading his cheeks like a cat would while making biscuits, soobin would be sneaking photos of your hands squishing his cheeks.

you’ll only remember to go back to your duties of blessing his handsome face with kisses when soobin begins pouting and teasingly complaining that his cheeks are red from your pinching. that is a bold-faced lie and we all know that. his face is red from all the love and attention he’s been receiving from you.

the filming process is successful, with little mishap occurring. the video idea originally was already cute enough, but what the tiktok managed to capture was pure gold.

when the camera had panned to soobin, he looked in your direction with a look of pure love and adoration. a look where people could easily tell, you were the center of his universe. MOA familiar with his different smiles could immediately deduce that this smile was different from his usual eye smile, dimple smile. this was a smile of a soobin well and truly in love. with a gentle wipe of his thumb, the smudged lipstick is removed, instead replaced with a soft, loving kiss on your lips.

to MOA’s delight and surprise, a new cover of #monthlysoobin is revealed in his latest monthly update. a subtle and cute post of the silhouette of soobin and you in the process of filming is showcased on soobin’s public instagram account as a soft launch of your relationship.

beomgyu:

you immediately regretted announcing your idea to him at 2 am in the morning, while you were doom scrolling. boy, his gleeful exclamation could probably be heard from the other side of the dorm. in fact, it probably woke up his poor band mates. regardless, their love for him was never-ending, so beomgyu was most likely politely excused the next morning.

hearing your proposal, he would turn to you with the biggest, silliest, love-sick grin, stretching from one side of his face to the other.

he’s more than ready to go zooming around and collecting up all the lipstick you’ve gradually moved into their dorm, though his injury prevented him from such excess exercise. instead, he watches you impatiently as you scurry around, snatching up all the available lipstick you can find that’s lying about.

beomgyu’s almost bouncing off the bed in excitement when you begin setting up. even before you’ve applied the first shade of lipstick, he’s thrust his head forward, eyes shut in anticipation, brushing back his own hair and leaving his forehead on display, ready to be adorned with your beautiful kisses.

the first half of the video goes without any accidents, though when it’s beomgyu’s turn to wipe the lipstick, he decides to become a little mischievous.

the camera captures the exact moment the thought crosses his mind. his eyes light up with a bright, gleeful spark as he cleans your smudged lipstick diligently.

grabbing a nearby lipstick, beomgyu dabs his thumbpad against the lipstick, smudging the pigmented colour of the stick onto his thumb, before his eyes look up at you. with a final cheeky smirk on his face, he smudges the colour onto your forehead.

“simba~” he gleefully announces.

a delighted laugh falls from your lips, amused by your boyfriend’s classic antics. lifting your finger, you smudge the lipstick on his forehead in turn, blessing him also with the “simba”.

when beomgyu posts on his personal instagram next, it’s a cheesy reenactment of the opening scene of lion king.

it was taken after his leg had healed and the two of you were sporting traffic cones on your heads. with the fuzzy orange streetlight in the background and shining as a spotlight, which also doubled as a stand-in for the sun, it was the perfect blend of romantic and chaotic.

taehyun:

he’s so cutie patootie about it. he tries to act all cool and ‘yup, i totally guessed that when you looked at me with that face’ but he cracks under your teasingly unamused face, giving up and doing a happy little cheer and the little hand clap thing, with his eyes scrunched up while his cat-like smile takes over his face. 

with such an infectious little smile, your own frown and upset at your plans being thwarted turned itself upside down and you were grinning like the lovesick idiot you were.

next thing you know, your small collection of lipstick shades has mysteriously grown larger overnight and taehyun has no idea how that happened. coincidence? i think not.

when you interrogate taehyun on why there’s so much lipstick when you have enough already and it’s just one. flipping. video. that you’re filming for, he just nonchalantly shrugs and returns your questions with a quick remark.

“firstly, it’s you, so i don’t mind it anyways, secondly that’s what all my money’s for. to spend it on things you need.”

he says all that cheesy and gooey stuff with only a hint of a cheeky grin, his dimple half showing. clearly, he was not sorry.

before you film the video, you smother taehyun with loads of kisses. he tries to pretend that he isn’t enjoying all the attention, but underneath the ‘cool guy’ facade, he was puffed up and arrogantly gleaming at the attention, like a proud peacock.

when you accidentally smudge the lipstick, as according to script, taehyun’s hand appears and he wipes off the smudge with a look of concentration. a pity that the camera didn’t manage to capture his face in that moment, he was looking at your face with the bright spark of awe in his eyes.

unfortunately, when the camera pans to taehyun, he pretends to be cooly looking at his phone, pretending to be unaware of the camera on him, nor of the multitude of kiss marks on his face. a quick side-eye of the phone screen gave him a peek the artwork on his face. try as he might, taehyun can’t help but break into a slight smirk. 

afterall, who doesn’t like appreciating the art of their favourite artist, who also happens to be their lover?

to your disappointment, the moment the camera stops recording, taehyun drops his phone on the soft mattress of the bed before locking eyes with you. he looks at you in such a way that reminds you of a cat getting ready to pounce, cute little butt wiggle and all.

without warning, taehyun launching himself from his side of the bed onto you, arms and legs sticking out to the side like a sugar glider, before he playfully pins you to the bed, giving you your fair share of kisses on your face.

later that night on weverse, a sneaky little squirrel posts an image of your cheeks smooshed together, the lipstick on it forming a heart shape.

huening kai:

he’s relatively calm on the outside, in the fact that he doesn’t end up screaming. instead, he turns to you, eyes lit up and a smile spreading across his face, a look of pure delight evident. he was so ready to do a tiktok trend with his favourite person.

you shower him in kisses. every time you land a kiss on his face, you’re greeted with his unmistakable laugh. with huening kai, you wouldn’t even be able to begin filming until he’s certain that there are enough kisses on his face. spoiler: there is never enough kisses on his face.

he would point at places where he thinks you’ve missed a spot, but there’s usually only a pinch of space left. when you deny him a kiss because of the lack of space, he gets all pouty and sad. he knows that his puppy eyes are your biggest weakness and you can’t say no, so that’s exactly what he uses against you.

with a sigh, you give in, smooshing his face in more loving kisses.

when the camera is propped up, everything goes as planned, though huening kai does come in a little bit late for his cue, mostly because he was distracted by the deity of beauty in front of him.

you think you’re done? no. huening pulls out his whole collection of plushies and (cutely) demands that you bestow a kiss on all of them. afterall, you’re technically the parent of his plushies, his children must be getting some love.

when you’re finally done with all of his plushies, he hands you a miniso penguin plushie that he had been keeping hidden under his pile of soft toys that frankly takes up half of his side of the bed.

“i saw it in a miniso shop while we were on tour and it reminded me of you and me. they’re a pair, so they can never be separated.”

on his next weverse post, MOA saw that it was a pair of miniso penguins, one was pink with a bridal veil, while the other was a grey penguin with a smart tophat and bowtie. what made MOA go crazy however, was the fact that both penguins were marked with a slight imprint of some coloured lipstick.

∧,,,∧

( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2024

/ づ ♡

[itendtothinkalot]

& it was all yellow (strangers to lovers)

summary: yellow was never beomgyu’s favorite color—until you came along with your ridiculously bright yellow headphones that somehow made you look even cuter. he saw you on the bus once, just minding your business, and that was it—game over for him. suddenly, yellow wasn’t just a color; it was you. the only problem? beomgyu (yes, the choi beomgyu, who seems cool and confident to everyone else) turns into a shy, blushing mess whenever you’re around. now he’s sitting there, heart racing, trying to come up with any excuse to talk to you—without making a complete fool of himself. except he does.

genre: fluff!!! super mega fluff. no angst. none at all. i promise!

characters: beomgyu x f!reader

words: 11.9k

warnings: cursing? i think

a/n: im such a beomgyu simp. i just have so much ideas for this man...and legend has it hes not even my bias.........................

Beomgyu liked to think of himself as two different people.

There was Group Beomgyu—the one his friends knew. Loud, quick-witted, always cracking jokes that left everyone in stitches. He was the guy who could light up a room without even trying. The one who dared his friends to do the ridiculous, like singing karaoke in public or sneaking fries into a movie theater.

But then, there was Solo Beomgyu.

That version of him emerged the moment he was alone. Quiet. Thoughtful. A little unsure of himself. Solo Beomgyu found solace in the mundane—watching raindrops race down bus windows, people-watching from his favorite spot at the back of the bus, and trying to guess the life stories of strangers in passing.

The bus ride to campus was his favorite part of the day. It was his escape, his time to recharge before stepping into the chaos of college life. And lately, it had become even more interesting—because of you.

It was silly, really. The first time he noticed you, he thought you looked cute as you climbed onto the bus in a skirt and baby tee. Your hair was tied back in a low ponytail, and you wore a pair of headphones that were impossible to miss. Those headphones—bright, sunny yellow—were probably the most damning thing about you.

How could someone so effortlessly capture his attention with something as simple as a pop of color? Yet there you were, sitting a few seats away, bobbing your head to the music only you could hear, completely oblivious to the way you’d become the highlight of his mornings.

Life had a funny way of showing irony. Just the day before, after spending hours gaming with his buddies, Beomgyu had sighed into his pillow, the weight of routine pressing down on him. It wasn’t that he hated his life—far from it. He was content, in a way. But somewhere deep down, he felt like his world had lost its color.

Nothing excited him anymore. Life had become an endless loop: wake up, take the bus to campus, study, head home, game with his friends, sleep, and repeat. Sure, there were the occasional party invitations, and he didn’t mind attending one here and there. But even those didn’t light a spark in him. They were fun, sure, but not really his scene.

It was strange to think how much his days blended together—until recently. Because now, as silly as it sounded, one part of his routine had started to stand out.

You.

Or, more specifically, your bright yellow headphones. They’d added a splash of color to his otherwise grayscale world. Something about how unapologetically vibrant they were made you seem larger than life, even as you quietly kept to yourself. It wasn’t just the headphones—it was you. The way you looked so at ease in your own little bubble, head bobbing to music only you could hear.

It was ridiculous to feel this drawn to someone he’d never even spoken to. But then again, maybe those yellow headphones weren’t just a splash of color. Maybe they were the first brushstroke of something entirely new.

It had been weeks since he’d first noticed you. By now, he’d already memorized your bus schedule—not because he was a stalker or anything, but simply because you seemed to follow the same routine as him. Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays, like clockwork, you’d board the bus at the same stop, settle into your usual seat, and disappear into your world of music.

The two of you always got off at the same stop, though you’d inevitably drift in separate directions. He’d head toward the business building, his heavy bag slung over one shoulder, while you veered off toward the art center. That alone made him think you were an arts student. It fit, somehow. There was something creative about the way you carried yourself—effortless, like you were painting a masterpiece just by walking through the world.

And even though he didn’t know your name or anything about you beyond these small details, you’d already become a fixture in his mind.

–

“You should talk to her,” Soobin mumbled, biting off a chunk of his chocolate bar and waving it lazily in the air as if the solution were that simple.

“And say what?” Beomgyu shot back, slumping further into the worn couch in their shared dorm.

“I don’t know... things?” Soobin shrugged, barely looking up from the phone in his other hand.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “You’re useless.”

Soobin smirked. “Says the guy who’s spent weeks staring at her like a weirdo.”

Beomgyu groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “It’s not that easy, okay? What if she’s not interested? What if I mess it up? What if—”

“What if she’s waiting for you to say something?” Soobin interrupted, his tone suddenly a little softer. “Look, all I’m saying is, you’re not gonna get anywhere just memorizing her bus schedule and hoping she notices you exist.”

Beomgyu scoffed but couldn’t deny the sting of truth in his friend’s words. He’d spent so much time admiring you from afar, inventing scenarios in his head, but none of them ever involved him actually... acting on it.

“Fine,” he muttered, more to himself than to Soobin. “I’ll talk to her.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Beomgyu straightened up, determination flickering in his eyes. “Next time I see her, I’ll... I’ll figure something out.”

Soobin grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Can’t wait to hear about how that goes.”

Beomgyu shot him a glare but couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at his lips.

–

And just like that, he’d convinced himself he was ready to approach you. Except he wasn’t. Days had passed, and despite his mental pep talks and rehearsed lines, he couldn’t bring himself to even say hi.

Like he said, “solo Beomgyu” was a whole different type of Beomgyu.

In front of his friends, he could crack jokes and steal the spotlight without breaking a sweat. But in front of you? He became a nervous wreck, fumbling over words in his head that never even made it out.

Well, that was until one fateful morning.

The city had woken up to chaos. Roads were closed in multiple areas because of some big event Beomgyu didn’t bother to look up—probably a marathon or a parade or something equally annoying to his morning routine. Either way, it was causing a major disruption, and Beomgyu was not thrilled.

He stood at the bus stop, waiting impatiently as three consecutive buses rolled by, each one packed to the brim. It felt like an eternity. He rolled his eyes and groaned inwardly, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder.

Great. 

The crowd at the stop grew thicker, and Beomgyu found himself shifting uncomfortably between clusters of impatient commuters. He hated waiting. Hated the feeling of wasting time when he could’ve been doing literally anything else.

And then he saw you.

You stood a little further down the pavement, your yellow headphones perched snugly over your ears, your gaze focused somewhere distant. You didn’t seem nearly as bothered by the chaos around you, which only added to the list of things Beomgyu found unfairly fascinating about you.

For a moment, he debated whether to move closer, maybe strike up a conversation while you both waited. But before he could make up his mind, the next bus pulled up.

This one wasn’t quite as crowded, though still far from comfortable. Beomgyu squeezed on, finding himself pushed toward the back, when suddenly, a voice interrupted his silent grumbling.

“Excuse me.”

It was soft but clear enough to make him glance over—and there you were, maneuvering through the aisle, your bag held close to your side as you tried to find a spot to stand. Beomgyu froze.

You were right there.

Fate, coincidence, bad luck—whatever it was, it had dropped you within arm’s reach. Beomgyu’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried to decide what to do. Say something? Smile? Pretend he didn’t notice you and stare out the window like his life didn’t hinge on this moment?

The bus jolted suddenly, and you stumbled, grabbing onto the nearest pole to steady yourself. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on how you looked at it—that pole was the same one Beomgyu was holding onto.

Your hand brushed his, just briefly, but it was enough to send his brain into overdrive.

“Sorry,” you said softly, glancing up at him with an apologetic smile before returning your focus to the window.

Beomgyu blinked, his heart still racing. He opened his mouth, words teetering on the edge of spilling out, but all he managed was a faint, “It’s okay.”

You didn’t hear him. Or if you did, you didn’t acknowledge it. And just like that, the moment passed, leaving Beomgyu kicking himself internally.

But as the bus rolled on, he found a tiny flicker of hope. Sure, he hadn’t said much, but you’d spoken to him first. That had to mean something, right?

20 minutes. The bus ride was 20 minutes, and the two of you were right next to each other. Beomgyu felt his palms sweating, his heart pounding in his chest.

God, she’s right beside me. He felt himself gulp, glancing over at you from the corner of his eye.

He’d never been so grateful for being almost a head and a half taller than you. It meant you couldn’t see the small, nervous glances he kept stealing in your direction.

The bus was growing more crowded by the minute. It was starting to get a little uncomfortable. You could feel yourself being pushed into Beomgyu, the pressure increasing with every jolt the bus took. His arms were propped up, gripping the taller handles above him, while you fumbled around, trying to find anything to hold onto. First, you grabbed the pole, then the handles near the seats, but as the bus rocked, you found yourself with nothing to stabilize you.

Beomgyu noticed. His heart skipped a beat. Without thinking, he reached behind you, his hand hovering near your backpack, fingers brushing against the fabric, just trying to hold you steady. He hoped you didn’t notice.

But the bus was moving like a rollercoaster. The driver swerved around a corner, and suddenly, the entire vehicle felt like it was on the edge of tipping. A pothole hit with a thud, and the jolt sent you stumbling.

You flailed for balance, but there was nothing left to grab. Before you knew it, you were teetering dangerously, feeling yourself lose your footing.

In an instant, Beomgyu’s hand shot forward. His fingers found your shoulders, steadying you before you could fall. The warmth of his hands against you was unexpected, sending a flutter through your chest.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise.

“Thank you,” you said breathlessly, your voice soft but clear, your heart still racing from the near-miss.

Beomgyu froze for a second, the sound of your voice like music to his ears. He felt the flush creep up his neck but tried to hide it with a casual, “No problem.” His grip lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, though neither of you seemed to mind.

The bus swayed again, and for a second, everything felt oddly... comfortable. Beomgyu could hear his heart thumping in his chest, but this time it was because of you—not the chaos of the ride.

—

The next day, the roads had finally cleared up. Beomgyu silently thanked every living being for that, especially since he had been about 30 minutes late for his class the previous day, missing out on a lecture he’d already been struggling with.

As he waited for the bus, his eyes automatically scanned the street, and there you were—your familiar yellow headphones bouncing as you made your way toward the bus stop.

You looked up, catching his eye from a few feet away, and offered him a smile.

“Hello,” you said, your voice light and friendly.

Beomgyu’s heart skipped a beat, and for a split second, he forgot how to breathe. “H-Hello,” he managed to croak out, cringing inwardly. Idiot.

You didn’t seem to mind, though. You gave him another smile, and it felt like the whole world slowed down for a second.

The bus soon arrived, and the two of you got on. Beomgyu’s eyes scanned the seats, and to his horror, all the empty ones were... right next to each other.

He froze. Great. Of course. Of all the seats.

Reluctantly, he made his way toward the row where you had already started to sit, mentally preparing himself for a potentially awkward ride. As he approached, you glanced up at him, your expression brightening.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

You shook your head. “It’s a free country.”

Beomgyu hesitated for a moment longer than necessary before sitting down beside you.

The bus jolted forward, and he instinctively reached for the pole above them, his fingers gripping it a little too tightly. Why am I so nervous? He couldn’t understand it.

Meanwhile, you settled into the seat, adjusting your backpack and glancing out the window. For a moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world—sitting beside someone you’d barely spoken to but already felt strangely connected with.

Beomgyu had no idea how to break the silence. But then, as if on cue, you turned to him.

“So… how’s your day going so far?”

It was a simple question, but the way you asked it made his heart race all over again. He managed to smile, albeit awkwardly.

“Uh, good, I guess. The roads are less crazy today.”

You laughed, and it felt like the weight in his chest lightened a little. “Yeah, I noticed. It was a mess yesterday.”

He nodded, relieved that the conversation hadn’t turned into an awkward silence.

“So… you’re heading to the art center again?” he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You nodded, your smile softening. “Yeah. I’m always there on  Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays.”

“Oh.” He pretended like he hadn’t known this little detail about you.

Beomgyu found himself relaxing a little more with each passing second. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. The awkwardness was still there, but it felt like a stepping stone—like the beginning of something that could finally get easier.

The bus continued to roll along, Beomgyu stole a quick glance at you, his heart fluttering as you hummed softly to the music in your headphones. For once, the awkwardness didn’t feel so unbearable.  

The next few minutes passed in relative silence, with only the occasional rattle of the bus as it made its way through the streets. Beomgyu found himself struggling to think of anything to say. He could hear the faint melody of your music through the air, but there was no other conversation to fill the space. He tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh, stealing glances at you, trying to figure out how to start another topic.

His mind raced with all the things he could say, but none of them seemed good enough. This is so awkward, he thought, almost groaning internally. Why is this so hard?

His eyes landed on his phone. The distraction was tempting. He pulled it out and quickly opened Spotify, deciding that he could at least use the music to mask the silence between the two of you. Beomgyu scrolled through his playlists, searching for something that felt right for the moment.

The bus jerked again, and Beomgyu adjusted his seat, tapping on a song and turning the volume up, only to suddenly realize—Wait, I haven’t connected my AirPods.

Flustered, he fumbled with his phone, tapping at the Bluetooth settings and then back to the app, his face warming with embarrassment. Idiot. 

But as the awkwardness hit its peak, you turned to him with a soft smile. “I like that song,” you said, your voice calm and easy, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. “It really suits you.”

Beomgyu blinked in surprise, his nerves a little shaken by the unexpected compliment. He looked at you, his heart racing again. “It suits me?” he repeated, voice a little higher than he intended.

You shrugged lightly, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “Yeah, it’s got a kind of... laid-back vibe. Kind of like you, I guess?”

Beomgyu’s face flushed, not sure whether to laugh or be more self-conscious. He adjusted his AirPods in a hurry, trying to make himself look less flustered than he felt.

“Thanks,” he said, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, it’s just a playlist... but yeah. It’s one of my favorites.”

You smiled back, then looked out the window again, but Beomgyu couldn’t help but notice how much more comfortable the moment felt now. The weight of silence didn’t seem so heavy anymore.

He tapped play on the song again, this time making sure the music was coming through his AirPods. The familiar melody filled his ears, and for once, the awkwardness didn’t feel so unbearable. Instead, it was like a subtle connection was forming, one little step at a time.

"And how would you know if I'm laid-back?" Beomgyu asked shyly, his voice barely above a whisper. He couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but the curiosity in your eyes made him feel like he could ask the question without it sounding too awkward.

You chuckled softly, turning to face him for a moment. "I don't know," you shrugged, smiling. "Just a guess? Call it a woman's intuition."

Beomgyu blinked, not quite sure what to say. “Woman's intuition?” he repeated, a little taken aback.

You grinned, a playful glint in your eyes. “I don’t know, maybe I just get a sense of things.” You hesitated for a second, then added, “But I could be wrong. I mean, I don’t really know you.”

He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. But at least, for now, you didn’t seem to mind.

"I-I guess I do try not to let things bother me too much," he mumbled, still trying to figure out what to do with his hands. "Though, I wouldn't say I'm always that chill. I have my... moments." He let out a nervous laugh, hoping you wouldn't think he was some kind of mess.

You smiled, your eyes crinkling at the corners. "Everyone does."

Beomgyu blinked, surprised by how comforting your words were. For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down again, and it was just the two of you, exchanging these small moments of understanding.

"True," Beomgyu said softly, his smile growing a little more genuine. "I guess I'm just not great at dealing with, you know, awkward moments."

You looked at him curiously. "Awkward moments, huh?"

Beomgyu nodded, his ears turning a little red. "Yeah... like this one." He gestured vaguely between the two of them, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I mean, I don't usually... I don't know, talk to people like this."

Your smile softened. "You seem like you’re doing just fine to me."

His heart swelled a little at that. "Really?"

"Yeah," you replied, your tone sincere. "You’re doing great."

Beomgyu’s face lit up with a smile he couldn’t contain. "Thanks," he said, feeling a little less nervous than he had before. "That means a lot, actually."

For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the sound of the bus’s tires on the road and the faint music in his ears the only background noise. Beomgyu felt a strange sense of peace settle in his chest. Maybe this wasn’t so hard after all.

He glanced over at you, catching you humming softly along to the music, and realized that, somehow, this was one of the most comfortable conversations he’d ever had.

"Hey," Beomgyu said after a beat, his curiosity getting the best of him. "What about you? What’s your favorite type of music?"

You turned to him with a thoughtful look, clearly enjoying the question. "I guess I’m all about the acoustic stuff mostly."

"Acoustic, huh?" Beomgyu said with a smile, intrigued. "I can see that. Seems like something you’d like."

You smiled, the sound of your laughter filling the space between you. "You got that from…?”

“Call it an idiot’s intuition.” He chuckled.

You laughed, “What about you?"

Beomgyu chuckled, trying to hide the grin that spread across his face. "I’m pretty into all kinds of stuff, but right now? Definitely some chill pop. Y’know, maybe I’m starting to agree with you on the whole laid-back thing."

You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing him. "So, you admit it?"

Beomgyu shrugged, leaning back a little, feeling a little more confident with each word. "Yeah. I guess I do."

And in that moment, Beomgyu finally realized that maybe, just maybe, the things he’d been too nervous to do or say weren’t as difficult as he’d once thought.

—

Beomgyu slumped back into his bus seat, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Idiot," he muttered under his breath. After weeks of stealing glances and summoning every ounce of courage he had, today had finally been the day he talked to you. Well, kind of. It was small talk—weather, classes, and music. But it was progress.

And yet, in his nervousness, he’d forgotten the most important thing. He hadn’t asked for your name or your number. He groaned inwardly, glancing out the window as the bus trundled down the familiar route. It was Thursday, which meant he wouldn’t see you again until Monday. Four whole days.

“Great,” he muttered, slumping further into his seat. “Four days to kick myself for being an idiot.”

Monday arrived far too slowly, and Beomgyu was oddly fidgety, his leg bouncing as he stared at the bus stop from his seat. The bus slowed to a stop, and his heart leapt in anticipation—only to sink when you weren’t there.

He glanced out the window, confused. Maybe you were running late. Or you’d taken an earlier bus? He brushed it off, convincing himself you’d show up tomorrow.

But then Tuesday came. And Wednesday. And still, there was no sign of you.

Beomgyu found himself staring at the seat you always sat in, empty and glaringly obvious. He hated how it bothered him so much. He barely knew you—he didn’t even know your name—and yet he felt like something was missing. Like the bus rides were quieter without the possibility of you being there.

By Thursday, disappointment had settled heavily in his chest. He sat near the back, earphones in but barely paying attention to the music. The world outside the window blurred past, but his thoughts were stuck on you.

Where were you?

—

It had been approximately two weeks since Beomgyu had last seen you. You had vanished like the wind, leaving him frustrated and more restless than he wanted to admit. Every day since, he’d made excuses to linger outside the art center, hoping for some sign of you. Desperation had even driven him to approach the center’s custodian, awkwardly asking if he’d seen anyone with bright yellow headphones.

“Yellow headphones?” a voice behind him piped up, catching Beomgyu off guard. “You mean this girl, right?”

Beomgyu turned to find a tall, sharp-featured guy holding out his phone, displaying a picture of you.

Immediately, Beomgyu’s stomach twisted. He took in the guy’s confident smile, the casual air about him, and the way he spoke about you like he knew you well—too well. He didn’t like it one bit.

“Yeah, that’s her,” Beomgyu said, his voice measured. “Who are you?”

“I’m Yeonjun,” the guy said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. He extended a hand, but Beomgyu hesitated for a second before shaking it. “I’m her friend.”

Friend? Beomgyu’s eyes narrowed slightly. Yeonjun was a little too good-looking to just be a friend, wasn’t he?

“So, uh…” Beomgyu cleared his throat, trying to hide the slight edge in his voice. “Do you know where she’s been?”

Yeonjun’s expression softened, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “Yeah. Something happened a couple of weeks ago. She’s been taking some time off to deal with it. But she should be back next week.”

Beomgyu felt a wave of relief wash over him—until Yeonjun added, “She’s been doing okay, though. We’ve been texting, and I’ve checked in on her a couple of times. You know, just to make sure she’s alright.”

Beomgyu’s jaw tightened. Texting? Checking in? Was that really necessary for a “friend”? He tried to keep his expression neutral, but a pang of jealousy flared in his chest.

“Right,” Beomgyu said, forcing a small smile. “That’s good. It’s good she has…people checking in on her.”

Yeonjun tilted his head, studying Beomgyu for a moment. “Who are you, anyway?” he asked casually. “Do you…know her?”

Beomgyu froze for a split second, the question catching him off guard. He shrugged quickly, trying to play it off. “Not really. We just…take the same bus sometimes.”

“Oh,” Yeonjun said, his lips quirking up into a small, knowing smile. “I see. So you’re, what? A bus friend?”

“Something like that,” Beomgyu mumbled, suddenly feeling like an idiot. He wished he’d thought of something cooler to say, but it was too late now.

“Well,” Yeonjun said with a grin, “that’s cute. But yeah, don’t worry—she’ll be back soon. And maybe I’ll see you around too, man.”

“Yeah. See you,” Beomgyu replied, watching as Yeonjun walked away.

As soon as Yeonjun was out of sight, Beomgyu exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He felt ridiculous. He didn’t even know your name, and yet here he was, stewing over some guy who probably wasn’t even competition.

Still, as he walked back toward the bus stop, the thought lingered: What if Yeonjun wasn’t just a friend?

—

And Yeonjun was right. You were back the following week, except you were dressed in the darkest colors Beomgyu had ever seen you wear. Your expression matched your clothing—cloudy, somber, and weighed down by something unseen. Strangely, he found it almost endearing that you seemed to dress the way you felt.

Still, it made him worry. Not that he had any right to, given that you two weren’t exactly close. But the thought lingered: What could’ve happened to make her look this upset?

When he finally gathered the courage to take the seat beside you on the bus, you didn’t even glance at him. You were completely absorbed in your thoughts, your body language practically screaming, Leave me alone.

“Life sucks, doesn’t it?” Your voice cut through his thoughts suddenly.

“Huh?” he asked, blinking in surprise.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed out the window. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “It can suck,” he admitted. “But it can also be really great.”

You turned your head slightly, finally acknowledging him with a raised brow. “Oh, yeah? How’s it ‘really great,’ exactly?”

“Well,” he started, leaning back in his seat, “it’s great because… it’s unpredictable. You never know when something good might happen. Even when everything feels like it’s falling apart, sometimes the universe throws you a surprise. Like…” He paused, glancing at you meaningfully, “…sitting next to someone who’s too cute to be upset.”

The corners of your lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through. “That’s cheesy,” you said, but there was no hiding the slight blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“Cheesy, sure, but also a fact ,” he replied with a grin. “See? You’re smiling already..”

You shook your head, laughing softly before falling quiet again. After a beat of silence, you sighed. “I’m not usually like this. I don’t like moping around. It’s just…”

Beomgyu tilted his head, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“…My parents decided to sell our old childhood home,” you admitted, your voice soft and tinged with sadness. “I had to go back and clear out all my things. It’s stupid. A first-world problem if you must, but I didn’t think it’d hit me this hard.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze warm and understanding. “It’s not stupid,” he said gently. “It’s your childhood. It’s where you grew up, made memories, and felt safe. It’s okay to be upset about losing something that meant so much to you.”

You looked at him, your expression conflicted. “I guess. It’s just… I feel so silly. Like, there are bigger problems in the world, and here I am crying over a house.”

“It’s not just a house, though, is it?” he countered, his tone firm but kind. “It’s a piece of you. And no one gets to tell you how to feel about it, not even yourself. Your feelings are valid—every single one of them.”

Your lips parted slightly, taken aback by his sincerity. For the first time in days, you felt a weight lift off your chest.

“Thanks,” you said softly, offering him a small, genuine smile. “I didn’t realize I needed to hear that.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he said with a wink, making you laugh despite yourself.

As the bus rolled to a stop near campus, you glanced at him and hesitated for a moment. “Hey, Beomgyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe life doesn’t suck that much after all,” you said, your smile widening just a little before you stood up and stepped off the bus.

He stayed seated, watching you walk away, and couldn’t help but grin to himself. Maybe life didn’t suck that much, indeed.

Then it hit him. 

How’d you know his name?

—

It had become second nature to save each other a seat on the bus. Whether it was an unspoken agreement or just something you both fell into, neither of you questioned it. For the next two weeks, your mornings began with a quiet understanding. You’d sit side by side, talking about the most mundane things—complaints about the weather, funny things you’d overheard, or random thoughts that popped into your heads.

Still, you hadn’t exchanged names, let alone numbers. It was almost absurd at this point, how you knew snippets of each other’s lives but not the most basic details. Except you did know his name—and Beomgyu was still wondering how.

Beomgyu found it funny too. But he didn’t mind. He liked your conversations, no matter how random they were.

Then one day, Beomgyu didn’t show up.

You found yourself glancing down the street more than once, your brows furrowed as you searched for any sign of his figure walking toward the stop. The bus pulled up, and you hesitated, standing on your toes to peer down the block one last time before climbing aboard.

You took your usual seat by the window, feeling a small pang of disappointment. The bus rolled forward, the rain outside picking up again and blurring the city beyond the glass. You stared at the streaks of water running down the pane, wondering where he could be.

That was when the bus jerked to a sudden stop.

You glanced toward the front, curious, only to see someone hopping up the stairs, drenched from head to toe. It took you half a second to recognize him, but when you did, you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of you.

Beomgyu stood there, panting slightly, his hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his jacket. His sneakers squeaked against the floor as he caught his breath.

“You made it,” you said, grinning as he shuffled over to your seat.

“Yeah,” he replied between breaths, dropping into the seat beside you with a sheepish smile. “Barely.”

“Did you seriously chase the bus?” you asked, trying not to laugh too hard.

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “I couldn’t miss it. Someone’s got to save you a seat.”

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you handed him a tissue from your bag. “It’s the other way around, is it not?”

“Maybe,” he admitted, taking the tissue to wipe his face. 

As the bus rolled forward again, the rain continued to pour outside, but it didn’t bother you as much anymore. Beomgyu was here, sitting beside you again, and for reasons you couldn’t quite explain, that made the day feel a whole lot brighter.

“Y’know… I still don’t know how you know my name while I don’t even know yours,” Beomgyu said, leaning back in his seat as he looked at you with curious eyes.

You grinned sheepishly, fiddling with the strap of your bag. “I… It’s stupid.”

“What’s stupid is that we’re practically best friends now, and I still don’t know your name or have your number,” he said with a pointed look.

“I like our friendship. It’s low maintenance,” you teased, biting back a smile.

“I’d like it more if I could talk to you more often instead of just on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays,” he countered, his lips quirking into a small pout.

You laughed. “But isn’t it fun this way?”

“It’s a whole amusement park,” he replied with a chuckle. “Though we’re threading off-topic—how’d you know my name?”

“Who doesn’t know your name, business boy?” you shot back, laughing softly.

“What?” His brows furrowed in confusion.

“You’re the infamous business boy on our school’s social media page. You don’t know about that?”

“Oh, I heard Soobin mention something about it a couple of times, but I don’t really check the app. I just use it to look at the lunch menu,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

“Well, you’re always making appearances on there. Especially from new students. ‘The dude from Econs 305 is really cute,’” you mimicked in a high-pitched voice, earning a laugh from him.

“Oh, so you’re saying you frequent the page often to find me?” he teased, leaning a little closer with a smirk.

“No! I’m just saying it pops up on my feed,” you said quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. You looked away, embarrassed by the way he was watching you now.

“Hmm.” Beomgyu’s smirk deepened as he tapped his chin dramatically. “You’re blushing. Are you sure you don’t check it on purpose?”

“Absolutely not,” you huffed, still avoiding his gaze.

“Okay, okay,” he relented, though his grin didn’t fade. He leaned back in his seat and looked at you thoughtfully. “Still, I’m flattered. Infamous, huh? Guess I’ve got quite the reputation.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he said with a playful shrug. Then, after a moment of silence, he tilted his head and added, “So, are you ever going to tell me your name, or are you going to keep the mystery alive?”

You hesitated, biting your lip. “I don’t know… The mystery has a certain charm, don’t you think?”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned dramatically. “Throw me a bone here.”

You laughed, finally relenting. “Fine. I’ll tell you—on one condition.”

“Anything,” he said eagerly, his eyes lighting up.

“You’re going to have to wait a little longer,” you teased, grinning at the look of mock horror on his face.

“Is this some kind of game for you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” you grinned, feeling a little mischievous. “But don’t worry, I’ll tell you soon enough.”

Beomgyu sighed, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”

Your conversation was abruptly cut off by the bus driver’s voice over the intercom, his tone apologetic. “Sorry for the delay, folks. There’s a small flood up ahead, and we’re going to have to take a detour. We’ll be going around, so it’ll take about 20 more minutes. Please bear with us.”

You sighed, leaning back into your seat. The rain outside was relentless, tapping against the windows in a rhythm that made your eyelids heavy. Gradually, you drifted off, your head tilting toward the window. Every so often, you jerked awake, only for your head to fall back against the glass with a soft thud. Beomgyu watched you, his lips twitching as he stifled a chuckle. He shifted closer, his gaze softening. Carefully, he leaned over and gently placed your head on his shoulder.

You didn’t stir. The comfort of the moment made you relax further into him, unaware of the quiet smile on Beomgyu’s face. After a few moments, an idea sparked in his mind. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a Sharpie, the black marker feeling oddly significant in his hands. Glancing down at your arm, he softly grasped your wrist, guiding it gently. He wrote quickly, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips as he scrawled:

‘Text me, I’m trying to be your best friend on all 7 days of the week - Beomgyu’

Once he was done, he sat back, his heart racing a little as he looked at your sleeping form. Pretending like nothing had happened, he adjusted his posture and looked out the window, as if he hadn’t just written his number on your arm.

About 15 minutes later, the bus jolted as it finally approached your campus, pulling into the stop with a slight screech of the wheels. The ride was almost over, and you began to stir, your eyes fluttering open slowly. You blinked a few times, squinting in the morning light that filtered through the windows.

Beomgyu glanced over at you casually, his face neutral as you yawned, rubbing your eyes. You stretched and groggily looked around, your gaze landing on him.

“Hey,” he said, almost too nonchalantly. “We’re here. Campus, I mean.”

You nodded, still dazed from sleep. “Yeah, I guess we are.” You glanced down at your arm, and your eyes widened when you saw the writing on your skin. A small smile tugged at your lips, though you tried to hide it.

Beomgyu didn’t acknowledge your surprise, pretending to look out the window, his fingers tapping rhythmically on his bag. “Didn’t want to wake you up, but… it’s kind of hard to miss, huh?”

You rubbed your arm, trying to act casual. “Hmm, what’s this?” You raised an eyebrow, playing along.

“Nothing,” Beomgyu said, voice smooth. “Just figured it was a good time to share my number. You know, in case you need me for… any reason.” He grinned, his gaze flicking to you for a moment before he quickly looked away, feigning innocence.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart fluttering a bit at his casual confidence. “Smooth, Beomgyu. Really smooth.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to make sure I’m not just a bus stop friend,” he said, a playful tone in his voice. “I’ve got big plans for us to hang out… all week long.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

Beomgyu only grinned, looking down at his bag as the bus doors finally opened. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

As you both stood up, gathering your things, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you two, the kind that felt both thrilling and comforting all at once.

—

Beomgyu glanced down at his phone again, his finger hovering over the screen, but there was still no text from you. It had been a day or two since he wrote his number on your arm, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you were just too busy or, worse, playing hard to get. The thought made his chest tighten. He didn’t like that feeling, the uncertainty, but it was all he could think about. God, he wanted you so much, but now... now he wasn’t so sure.

He sighed, shoving his phone into his pocket and heading toward the campus bus stop. His mind kept replaying the moment he'd written his number on your arm, hoping you’d text him. He should’ve just asked for your number, but for some reason, he’d held back. What was wrong with him?

And then, as if on cue, he saw you standing there. His heart skipped a beat. You were just as he remembered—yellow headphones hanging around your neck. But there was something different this time. Something he hadn’t expected.

Someone was with you.

Beomgyu stopped dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. Yeonjun. Of course, it had to be him. The guy was tall, confident, and... his arm was around you. Beomgyu's stomach twisted, the jealousy creeping up on him. He wasn’t the type to feel this way, but seeing the two of you together felt like a punch to the gut.

He told himself it wasn’t a big deal. That you’d never given him any indication you liked him in the first place. You were beautiful, funny, smart—of course, you’d be taken. He shouldn’t even be surprised, but damn it, it stung more than he expected.

Beomgyu glanced away, his feet itching to leave. Maybe it was better not to make a fool of himself.

Just as he was about to walk off, a loud voice rang through the air. "Beomgyu!"

He turned, and there you were—waving at him, smiling that infectious smile of yours. His heart fluttered. You looked so happy to see him. For a brief moment, the jealousy melted away, and all he could do was return your smile.

"Beomgyu, right?" Yeonjun said, raising an eyebrow. He grinned, the kind of smile that made Beomgyu want to roll his eyes. "I remember you. You’re the one who asked me where she was when she disappeared for two weeks."

Beomgyu’s face flushed instantly. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to vanish into the ground or laugh it off. "No, no. That’s not me," he muttered, shaking his head quickly, trying to downplay the awkwardness of the moment.

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow. "No, I remember. It was you. I mean, you're the Business Boy, aren’t you?" He smirked, clearly amused. "I was a little surprised you were asking about this idiot here."

You shoved Yeonjun lightly, but Beomgyu could see the playful affection in your eyes. And in that moment, his heart sank. So this was it. You and Yeonjun. He had hoped he was wrong, but now he could see it clearly. You were a couple.

"You asked about me?" You tilted your head slightly, your eyes catching his.

Beomgyu’s cheeks flushed pink. "I mean, you were gone for so long, so I was just... wondering where you went."

"You came all the way to the arts center just to ask about me?" Your voice was light, teasing, and for some reason, it made his heart race.

Beomgyu quickly waved his hand, his face growing even warmer. "It’s not like that," he said, trying to downplay it. "I was just curious, that’s all."

But before he could say anything more, you grinned, eyes sparkling. "That’s so sweet!" You suddenly rushed over to Beomgyu’s arm, linking it with yours, much to his surprise.

He froze for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. He wasn’t sure whether to pull away or enjoy the moment. His heart thudded in his chest as you looked up at him with a playful smile.

"Okay, okay," Yeonjun chimed in, his voice teasing. "I get it, you two have some weird little connection, but we have to get going. I’ll let you two catch up later." He gave Beomgyu a knowing look before nudging you gently, a playful grin still on his face.

You looked a little embarrassed, but you didn’t let go of Beomgyu’s arm. "Sorry, I just... haven’t seen you in a while, Beomgyu," you said, your voice quieter now, your gaze softening. "It’s nice to know you cared enough to ask about me."

“It’s only been two days,” Beomgyu thought bitterly, but didn’t say aloud. He couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment that surfaced, especially after the number exchange that had been left hanging.

"Also, you haven’t texted me back," you sighed dramatically. "To think you were the one who told me to text you."

Beomgyu blinked, slightly taken aback. "You did?" His voice betrayed his confusion. "I didn’t get anything from you."

"You did!" You shoved your phone in his face. "See?"

Beomgyu grabbed your phone and checked the message history. "I didn’t get anything," he said again, scrolling through, but as he looked closely, he raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you saved my number wrong. It’s an 8, not a 6."

You stared at the screen in disbelief. "It’s a 6. I’m sure of it. Hold on, I even took a picture of it! See!" You quickly opened your gallery and shoved the phone at him again, showing him the snapshot of the contact info.

Beomgyu frowned, shaking his head. "No, that's definitely an 8," he said with a laugh, trying to hide his amusement at your determination.

"You have terrible handwriting!" you retorted, hands on your hips.

"No, I don’t!" Beomgyu shot back, now laughing. "You just have terrible comprehension skills!"

The two of you continued to bicker, your playful banter creating an almost natural rhythm. Yeonjun, standing beside you, cleared his throat loudly, interrupting the back-and-forth.

"Love, we really have to go," he said, his tone flat and a bit impatient, but still affectionate.

You blinked, suddenly realizing the time. "Oh, right! Sorry, I got carried away." Then, turning to Beomgyu with a bright smile, you said, "I’ll text you tonight, Beomgyu!"

Beomgyu, still processing the sudden turn of events, gave you a nod, though his chest felt oddly tight. "Alright," he said, his voice soft. "I’ll be waiting."

With that, you waved one last time and walked away with Yeonjun, leaving Beomgyu standing there, staring after you. He couldn’t help but wonder if the playful banter had meant something more—if maybe there was more between you two than just casual friendship. But until he heard from you, he could only hope.

—

Beomgyu laid in bed, his mind racing. Strangely, it wasn’t you that occupied his thoughts now—it was Yeonjun. Who was he, really? He wasn’t one to stalk someone’s Instagram, but tonight, he found himself doing just that. Scrolling through endless dance videos, selfies, and posts, he finally stumbled upon a highlight reel with a familiar yellow color—your yellow headphones.

Without thinking, his fingers tapped the screen, and video after video started playing. There you were, laughing, giggling, screaming, clearly having fun with Yeonjun. The two of you were obviously close—closer than he had imagined. His chest tightened as he watched, feeling a knot form in his stomach. He didn’t know how to feel. Jealous? That seemed silly, especially since you had never shown any signs of liking him back. His crush on you felt like a one-sided affair, and if anything, this just confirmed it.

Beomgyu chuckled to himself, still feeling that flutter in his chest. He quickly typed another response.

He sighed, shifting uncomfortably under the covers. Time to move on, he told himself. It was just a silly crush, and he had no right to keep dwelling on it. You were probably just being nice, and Yeonjun was clearly in the picture. Beomgyu had no business lingering on something that wasn’t even real.

Just as he was about to close the app, a notification popped up on his screen. 

Yellow Headphones: Beomgyu!

His heart skipped a beat, and a rush of warmth spread across his chest. So much for moving on, he thought again, his thumb hovering over the message. He hesitated for a second before responding.

Beomgyu: Yellow headphones~ Yellow Headphones: Is that my new nickname? Beomgyu: Well, depends, it’s either that or bus girl and that doesn’t really have a ring to it. Yellow Headphones: I suppose. Anyway, whatchu doing? ^^

Well, Beomgyu couldn’t tell the truth, now could he? Stalking your potential boyfriend sounded really stupid.

Beomgyu: Just using my phone. You? Yellow Headphones: With Yeonjun right now. He’s been stressed over his dance recital and I’ve been helping him with it, but he’s still feeling all over the place. Beomgyu: Oh. You and him seem really close. Yellow Headphones: Of course! We’ve been friends since we were 10 ^^ we’re practically brother and sister. Beomgyu: Oh! You two aren’t dating? Yellow Headphones: God no, ew… besides, he has a girlfriend, and he is not my type.

Beomgyu’s eyes widened as he read that. Not my type—those words felt like a weight lifting off his chest. The knot in his stomach loosened, and he felt an unexpected surge of hope.

Beomgyu: Oh!

Beomgyu smiled—actually, he beamed. His excitement made him jump out of bed, letting out a quiet scream of joy, before realizing he was making too much noise.

“BEOMGYU, SHUT UP, I’M TRYING TO FUCKING SLEEP!” Soobin yelled from across the hall.

Beomgyu winced, sheepishly holding his phone closer to his chest. "Fuck, sorry!" he whispered, grinning to himself. He had a reason to be happy tonight, and that was enough for now. He quickly typed another message, eager to keep the conversation going.

Beomgyu: Haha, my bad. Yellow Headphones: Haha, it’s okay! Anyway, do you have any plans for tomorrow?

Beomgyu hesitated for a second, heart thumping. Was this really happening?

Yellow Headphones: Maybe we can hang out? I’d love to take this friendship out of the bus.

Beomgyu grinned wider, practically bouncing on his bed.

Beomgyu: I’ll see you at our usual bus stop at 3 then? Yellow Headphones: Sure! 

—-

Beomgyu had been waiting at the bus stop for 10 minutes, it wasn’t that you were late, he was just really early, his excitement bubbling up as he checked his phone for the time again. He was nervous, but in a good way. Today was the day. The day he was meeting you outside of the usual school routine, just the two of you. And from the messages he'd gotten earlier, it was clear you were as excited as he was.

Then, as if on cue, he saw you.

You appeared in the distance, looking like a burst of sunshine in a bright yellow dress. Your hair was styled in a half ponytail, held up by a cute bow, making the whole look even more playful. Beomgyu felt his heart race as he took you in. Adorable. He couldn’t even put it into words, but his grin stretched from ear to ear. He had to force himself to stop from gushing about how cute you looked, biting his lip to keep himself from saying it out loud. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to—he just didn’t want to seem too eager.

You skipped over to him, a playful energy radiating from you, and nudged his arm. "There you are," you giggled, poking his sides, making him flinch in surprise but laugh all the same.

"You look great!" you added, eyes twinkling as you looked him up and down.

Beomgyu’s heart fluttered at the compliment. He’d styled his hair with a bit of gel, making it tousled in that effortlessly cool way. He’d chosen a simple, casual dress shirt and slacks—nothing fancy, but enough to look presentable. Enough to say, yeah, I look good. Because, well, he was Beomgyu, and he always did.

“Do I look any different from how I dress on campus?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, though his smile betrayed his excitement.

You chuckled, crossing your arms in front of you as you assessed him. “Well, yeah. You only wear hoodies to school.”

Beomgyu couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m a hoodie guy, what can I say?”

“You’re a hoodie guy with potential,” you teased, poking his side again.

His grin widened. “Guess I’ve got to wear more than just hoodies around you then, huh?”

You shrugged playfully. “Maybe.”

Beomgyu chuckled, feeling a strange warmth spreading through him. This was nice. Really nice. He found himself staring at you, the way you carried yourself with such ease and confidence, making it impossible not to smile. He was genuinely looking forward to this.

“So, uh, what’s the plan?” he asked, wanting to make sure he didn’t come off as awkward, though he was fighting back the urge to let the conversation tumble into something that would sound way too cheesy.

“Well, I thought we could grab coffee first,” you suggested, grinning mischievously. “Then maybe take a walk around the park or something. Just… relax.”

“That sounds perfect,” Beomgyu replied, his voice a little softer than usual, but full of sincerity. He was definitely not about to complain about spending time with you.

You both fell into an easy conversation as you waited for the bus, and Beomgyu couldn’t help but steal glances at you when you weren’t looking, his heart racing in a way he wasn’t used to. Being around you felt different. He’d always been around people, but this—this felt like something he couldn’t quite put into words.

It didn’t matter, though. Today was the start of something, and he was finally okay with the fact that he was feeling it.

—

Beomgyu felt his palms starting to sweat as he sat across from you at the coffee shop. He had no idea what had gotten into him, but suddenly he was nervous. Really nervous. His usual confident demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced by a strange fluttering in his chest. Every time you laughed, he felt a little spark, and when you looked at him with that warm smile, it was like his heart skipped a beat. It was all so much more than he had anticipated.

You were saying something about how cute the coffee shop was, but Beomgyu was only half listening. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you—how effortlessly you moved, how you interacted with the people around you, your kindness radiating in everything you did. You said thank you to the barista, smiled at a little kid passing by, and his heart couldn’t help but swell. You were starting to feel a little too perfect, and it was making him swoon.

“So,” you said with a smile, taking a sip of your coffee, “this is a pretty cute first date, isn’t it?”

Beomgyu nearly choked on his drink. “Date? This is a date?” he blurted out, wide-eyed. His heart leaped into his throat as soon as the words left his mouth. He hadn’t even thought about it that way.

You looked up at him, your cheeks instantly turning pink. “This isn’t a date? Oh… I just assumed… this is really embarrassing,” you said, your voice trailing off as you awkwardly shifted in your seat.

Beomgyu felt a wave of panic wash over him. His brain short-circuited, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He’d been so wrapped up in the idea of spending time with you that he hadn’t even considered the possibility of this being a date—and now you were embarrassed, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

"I—I'm sorry, I didn’t—" You sputtered, your words tumbling out in a mix of embarrassment. Then, in a flustered panic, you stood up and accidentally knocked over a glass of water onto your dress. "Oh my god!" you exclaimed, your face flushing in mortification.

Beomgyu’s heart dropped. “No! This can be a—” He rushed to stand up but hesitated, unsure of what to say to make things better.

You started to gather your things, clearly upset. “You don’t have to pity me, Beomgyu. I’ve been in this situation before,” you muttered, looking away and clutching your things tightly. “I’ll just—”

"No, you don’t get it!" Beomgyu almost shouted, his voice a little more desperate than he intended. "I don’t—it's not like that. I didn’t—this can definitely be a date if you want it to be," he stammered, feeling the heat rise to his face.

You froze, your hand still gripping your bag, and turned back to look at him. The nervousness in your eyes faded slightly, replaced by a hesitant curiosity. “Really?” you asked softly, as though unsure if you should believe him. “Because you don’t have to lie—”

“I’m not,” Beomgyu replied quickly, his voice more certain now. “I’ve had the biggest crush on you. Ever since you took the bus in those big, bright yellow headphones.”

“Oh,” you whispered, your eyes widening slightly. For a moment, everything was silent except for the chatter from everyone else in the coffee shop.

Beomgyu scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, unsure of how to continue. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he couldn't look away from you. “I know this probably isn’t how we both pictured this would happen,” he admitted, his voice softening.

This time, it was you who fell silent. You didn’t know what to say, so you just stood there, frozen in place. Then your eyes flickered downward. You realized your dress was wet, a small stream of water dripping down your leg.

“Right, my dress,” you mumbled, suddenly panicked.

“Here,” Beomgyu said quickly, handing you a napkin.

“Thanks,” you replied, your voice small as you dabbed at the wet fabric.

There was a brief moment of awkward silence, the realization of what had just been said still hanging in the air. So, you both clearly had feelings for each other, but neither of you seemed to know what to do with them.

“So, uh…” You both spoke at the same time, your words overlapping, before you both chuckled nervously.

“Yeah, uh…” Beomgyu trailed off, his hands shifting uncomfortably in his lap. “This is… a lot.”

“Yeah, a little,” you agreed, your voice tinged with a mixture of laughter and embarrassment.

For a moment, neither of you spoke again. The noise around you, the clinking of coffee cups and low hum of conversations, seemed to fill the space between you, making it feel both cozy and utterly awkward at the same time.

Beomgyu was the first to break the silence, his voice quiet but sincere. “I really like you, you know?”

You smiled at him, your heart fluttering. “I like you too, Beomgyu. I really do.”

He looked at you, his eyes soft and a little shy now, but there was something else there too—hope. “Before we, I guess… become a couple…” He cringed, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how endearing he was. “I’d love to take you out on a few dates first. I’d really like to get to know you better.”

You grinned. “You’re almost too perfect, I fear.”

Beomgyu smirked playfully. “I was thinking the same thing.”

You laughed again, the sound light and easy between the two of you. It felt good—comfortable, even—and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so at ease with someone.

—

Two years had passed since that awkward coffee shop moment, and here they were again, at the same bus stop where it all began. Beomgyu and you stood side by side, hand in hand, but there was a noticeable difference now—two years of laughter, moments, and quiet affection between the two of you.

“This is ridiculous!” you exclaimed, frustration clear in your voice. “Why didn’t we think of moving somewhere else? Why do we insist on staying in this godforsaken area?!”

Beomgyu just chuckled, squeezing your hand lightly. “Baby, c’mon, this is where our roots are. Have you forgotten? Bus buddies and all that crap?”

You shot him a playful glare, rolling your eyes. “Gyu, this is getting crazy.” You gestured towards the crowded bus, which was slowly pulling away. “It’s the third one we’ve had to miss today. We’re never going to get to work on time at this rate.”

Beomgyu shrugged nonchalantly. “We could always just skip work. You know, pretend we’re working from home?” he teased.

You playfully shoved him. “Not funny,” you said with a soft laugh, though the frustration was still there. “But seriously, this is becoming a bit much. You’ve been saying for ages that we need to get out of this neighborhood.”

He took a step closer, his thumb brushing across your knuckles. “You really wanna move out of this area?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost a little hesitant.

You turned to face him, looking up into his eyes. There was a seriousness in his expression that made your heart skip a beat. “I love the memories we’ve made here, but the buses are a nightmare. And we don’t even live that far from each other anymore…” You sighed. “I don’t know. I think I might be ready for a change. Something a bit quieter. Closer to our workplaces.”

There was a brief silence as Beomgyu let the words sink in. He stood there for a moment, his hand still in yours, before a smile spread across his face. “You know,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’ve been thinking about something too…”

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. “What’s that?”

Beomgyu’s smile grew, his eyes glinting with excitement. “What if we, uh, moved into an apartment closer to work? Somewhere we could both call our place… together?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. “What do you mean?” you asked, trying to hide the sudden rush of emotions.

“I mean…” he trailed off, his voice suddenly softer. “I know we’ve been living separate lives in our own places, but what if we took the next step? What if we moved in together, like a real couple? Maybe in an apartment just a few blocks away from our workplaces? We could make it our own… just us.”

Your breath caught in your throat as the gravity of his words settled over you. For a moment, you just stared at him, unsure if you’d heard him right.

But then, his hand gently cupped your cheek, and the sincerity in his gaze melted any doubt away. “What do you think? I’ve been saving up, and I thought… maybe it’s time. Time for us to be closer. To have our own space.”

Your heart was racing, your mind still trying to process everything Beomgyu had just said. You had dreamed about this moment, but hearing him actually say it out loud felt surreal. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” you whispered, the excitement bubbling up inside you.

“I am, if you say yes,” he replied, his voice full of sincerity, yet there was a hint of playfulness behind it.

You looked at him, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “Now, how could I ever say no to that face?”

Beomgyu deadpanned, “You say no to me all the time.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “That’s because your requests are ridiculous. We’re not having dino nuggets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. We need some variety.”

“Mayo, ketchup, ranch,” Beomgyu replied nonchalantly, as if that was a reasonable combination.

You scrunched up your nose. “That’s gross.”

“And yet, you still kiss me,” Beomgyu said with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips. “Unfortunately, I do.”

“Unfortunately?” he said, his voice dropping in pitch as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You didn’t seem to complain last night.”

You immediately flushed, quickly shooting a look around to make sure no one was nearby. “No bed talk in a school zone, idiot,” you shot back, trying to stay serious but failing miserably.

He grinned even wider, leaning in a little closer. “There are no kids here.”

You pointed at him accusingly. “There’s one right here,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

Beomgyu threw his hands up in mock surrender, still chuckling. “Alright, alright, I’ll behave.” But his grin never faded.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the energy between the two of you so effortless, so right. It felt like two years of inside jokes, shared moments, and quiet affection were all wrapped up in this one little exchange. You took a deep breath, squeezing his hand tighter as the bus pulled up, and just before it came to a stop, you said, “So, where’s our new apartment gonna be, huh?”

“Well…call me crazy but I’ve already been looking up on some apartments for about a few weeks now and since we’re not in a rush–we’ll be working from home today, by the way,-- and we can check out this new apartment listing I saw.”

You rolled your eyes, thinking aloud, “Hm, I don’t know. Work is kinda my only time to get rid of you.”

“Get rid of me? Baby, you need me.” He said, smugly.

“Alright fine. Is it open right now?”

“The open house ends in 30 minutes we can make it in time.” Beomgyu mumbled, glancing over to his watch.

“Fine.” You grunted.

— 

The two of you made your way to the apartment Beomgyu had told you about. A laundry room, an island counter, a big enough living room to do late night acrobatics (Beomgyu does that when he’s drunk sometimes)—it almost felt too good to be true. But as you wandered through the space hand in hand, inspecting every corner, it wasn’t just good. It was perfect. The rent was within budget, and the apartment was a short walking distance from both your workplaces. It felt like everything was falling into place.

Until it wasn’t.

“No. NO!”

Both of you turned sharply toward the doorway, where Yeonjun stood with a look of pure horror on his face.

“I’m not having you two rabbits as neighbors,” he declared dramatically, crossing his arms. “I’ve already suffered enough when I stay over at Beomgyu’s place.”

“We never ask you to stay over,” Beomgyu shot back, rolling his eyes. “You choose to do it.”

Yeonjun scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “It’s not my fault she runs my social media page and always posts updates late at night!”

You shrugged innocently. “Well, if we’re neighbors, we could communicate much more easily, don’t you think?”

Yeonjun narrowed his eyes. “No. Absolutely not. I can’t possibly have the world’s most annoyingly clingy couple living next door to me. It’s a nightmare scenario.”

Beomgyu sighed dramatically and stepped forward, throwing an arm around Yeonjun’s shoulders. “Yeonjunnie~,” he cooed, tilting his head and batting his eyelashes. “I love you.”

You grinned, quickly sliding to Yeonjun’s other side and clinging to his arm. “We love you~,” you added, mirroring Beomgyu’s syrupy tone.

Yeonjun looked utterly betrayed, glancing between the two of you as though you’d just sentenced him to a lifetime of torment. “I’m calling Taehyun and asking him to raise the rent,” he grumbled, attempting to shake you both off.

Beomgyu gasped, clutching his chest as if he’d been mortally wounded. “You’d betray me like this? After everything we’ve been through?”

“Everything we’ve been through? We’re only friends because this freak decided to date another freak,” Yeonjun retorted, glaring at the two of you.

“Hey!” you pouted, crossing your arms. “Don’t say that. He’s a cute little freak though, isn’t he?” you added with a grin, reaching over to pinch Beomgyu’s cheeks.

“I’m going to throw up,” Yeonjun groaned, looking genuinely pained.

“Don’t do that on my new carpet,” Beomgyu warned, straightening up and swatting your hands away.

“What do you mean, your new carpet—wait…no.” Yeonjun’s eyes widened in horror.

“Yes.” Beomgyu smirked smugly. “Hi neighbour!”

“Fuck this shit! I’m moving out,” Yeonjun declared, throwing his hands in the air and storming toward the door.

“Love you too, Yeonjunnie~,” Beomgyu called after him, laughter bubbling in his voice.

“Enjoy your new carpet,” Yeonjun shot back, slamming the door behind him.

—

Beomgyu sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a paintbrush like it was a weapon, his cheek already smeared with a streak of light blue. “Baby, stop!” he warned, narrowing his eyes at you.

“You painted my face first?!” you exclaimed, holding up your own paintbrush, dripping with pale yellow. 

Before he could react, you swiped the brush across his nose, leaving behind a bright streak. Beomgyu gasped dramatically, dropping his brush to grab yours, but you jumped up and dodged, laughing.

“Come back here!” he yelled, chasing after you around the room.

You yelped, trying to escape, but he caught you around the waist and spun you around, both of you laughing so hard you could barely breathe. “Hm, I win.” he said triumphantly, dipping his finger in paint and smearing a heart on your cheek.

“Gyu!” you squealed, trying to wriggle free, but he only held you closer, grinning at his handiwork.

“Perfect,” he declared, his face close to yours now. His grin softened as he looked at you, his hand resting on your cheek. “Okay, you’re the cutest thing I’ve ever painted.”

Your laughter faded into a warm smile, your heart fluttering. “You’re such a dork,” you whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips.

You looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes, and dipped your hands into the blue paint. Pressing your palms gently against his lips, you smirked. “How about we make green?” you teased.

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, dipping his fingers into the yellow paint and smearing it across your lips in retaliation. “Challenge accepted,” he said with a grin.

“We’re definitely going to get serious stomach pains from toxic paint,” you muttered, unable to hide your laugh.

He leaned in anyway, pulling you closer as his hands rested gently on your waist. His lips pressed against yours, the faint, messy blend of colors forgotten in the warmth of the kiss.

After a few more playful smears of paint and an awful lot of kisses, the two of you sat on the floor, finally taking a breather. Beomgyu pulled out a small wooden frame from one of the boxes, holding it up with a sheepish smile.

The bright yellow headphones sat perfectly preserved in the shadow box. “I thought we could hang this on the wall,” Beomgyu said softly, his voice laced with nostalgia.

You stared at it, your heart swelling with emotion. “You kept them?”

“Of course,” he murmured, his tone quieter now. “It’s cute how you gave these to me on our first anniversary, don’t you think?”

“Well, you did say the theme was memories,” you said with a small smile. “And I think meeting you is one of my favorite ones.”

“Who are you, and what have you done to my mean and sarcastic girlfriend?” Beomgyu teased, his lips twitching into a playful grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Remember how sweet you thought I was in the beginning?”

“You were sweet. For like…the first two months,” he said, feigning deep thought. “Your true colors came out right after I introduced you to Soobin.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve been mean way before that,” you laughed. “It’s called trying to impress the cute boy I liked.”

“You should win an Oscar for that performance,” he quipped.

“Against who? You?”

“Oh, please,” he shot back with mock indignation. “I’ve never pretended. I’m 100% authentic.”

“Laid back? Remember that? You were all like maybe I am laid back.”

“I am!”

“Baby, you scream and jump around the apartment until 2 a.m. You’re a menace.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not laid back,” he said, grinning. “Just means I’m loud.”

“Very loud. You’ve been pretending to be a soft boy this entire time, haven’t you?”

“You caught me,” he admitted with a laugh, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips.

After a brief struggle with the frame, he finally managed to hang it up on the wall. “Tada!” he announced proudly.

The two of you stepped back to admire it, your shoulders brushing as you stood close together. Beomgyu slid an arm around your waist and kissed the top of your head. “Welcome home, baby,” he murmured, his voice warm and tender.

“Welcome home, Gyu.”

[createdbytragedy]

GOODBYE KISS

Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x reader Genre: Fluff, established relationship Warning: None A/N: Just a small drabble after a long break. I actually forget that the millions of scenarios and fanfics ideas in my head aren't gonna write itself. "Its getting late, you should go....." you mumbled to your boyfriend, breaking away from his kiss. "I have 10 minutes more," he stated, capturing your lips once again, his big hands rubbing your back up and down, down and up, soothing you from whatever stressed and doubt you had before. He always did that. Kisses you senseless until you forgot all about the world around you and the only thing you can feel was his presence and his lips dancing with yours. "Don't wanna go tonight~" he whined, pulling out but still holding your chin as he looked at you lovingly. You chuckled," You never wanna go, Gyu" "Don't wanna leave you." he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer as he placed soft little kisses on your cheeks and forehead, making you giggle. His embrace was so warm, so comfortable and so perfect. Like his arms were made to hold you. Like you were made for each other, after all. You almost felt selfish, wanting him to keep him all to yourself. Maybe make him stay tonight. You knew he would if you just say the word but the rational side you of you knew he had to go. There were other people out there who needed him too. And right now, his fans needed him. "Are you gonna miss me while I'm gone?" he asked, looking at you with those golden eyes that always made your heart skip a beat. "Of course, baby. Will miss you every minute and every second. " You answered, smiling at him. He smiled back, content with the assurance. "DO you --" he was cut off by the horn honking from outside your shared apartment several times a row. Beomgyu groaned, hesitantly retracting his arms from your waist. "ARGHHH!! don't wanna go yet..." he pouted. You smiled, standing up and cupping his cheek. "Just 3 to 4 weeks baby. Then I'm all yours again. You can do it for me, right?" He nodded. For you? Yes, he could. "Don't skip meals and drink lots of water. And I'll call you whenever I'm free. I love you a lot, okay?" You smiled, " I know, baby. I love you more." You said, pulling him into a hug that he melts into. His soft chuckle vibrating in your ear. "Gonna marry you one day." he whispered. The horn honked once again. This time, longer and more consistent. You laughed together before making your way to the door. "Goodnight, sweetheart. Have a good sleep tonight, hm." He said, walking out the door. "You too, honey. Let me know when you reached." you smiled as you watched Beomgyu make his way to the black limo standing outside. His head turn every second, smiling and waving at you until he was inside and the limo drove off. You sigh, closing the door and making your way inside the house that felt too empty without the presence of your boyfriend. You turned on the lights of the kitchen, ready to do the dishes you procrastinated to spend more time with him. You were putting on the apron when you heard the front door open. Your heart skipping a beat at the possibility of a robbery, until you heard the familiar footsteps. "Huh? Gyu, did you forget some---" in a second, you were swiped off the ground, the apron falling from your hands as Beomgyu held you, placing a passionate kiss on your lips. It didn't take long for you to respond, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting go of the world once more. His kisses always felt like that. Passionate enough to make you think you were dreaming. He pulled out first, grinning at you with twinkling eyes as he spoke. "I forgot my goodbye kiss."