#or worse playing cat and mouse

[tuesdayisfordancing]

sometimes writers be pairing the spares in upsetting ways

[gallierhouse]

It’s so funny that Armand has “ethical” eating habits for a vampire. He finds people he thinks deserve or want to die, and then he convinces them to play a game of cat and mouse with him, and he gets so visibly excited about it he’s openly flirtatious. Then he chases them through the streets for a few hours. Basically, he’s torturing them. He’s playing with his food. He’s having fun pretending to hunt. “Pretend” because if he was really hunting it wouldn’t take him any time at all. Then, once he catches them, he goes through their mind like a filing cabinet and brainwashes them into thinking they want to die, and then he kills them painlessly, which might sound better than throat-ripper Lestat’s modus operandi, but what Armand really does is subject people to physical and psychological torture for hours before removing their agency in their final moments. It’s worse. He doesn’t even leave people with their minds or dignity intact. No resistance. No hope. No clarity. Not even your final thoughts are your own. It’s presumably something Armand’s injected into your mind that he thinks you’ll like. He guts your mind like a fish before doing the same thing to your body and then goes home and is like, wow, another ethical meal for me, unlike all those savages that take bites out of random strangers. Good job, me.

[multific]

His Wife

At'Roh x Reader

Summary: Nothing is scarier than a Yautja who's protecting their mate. And At'Roh is no different, he is worse.

A/N: Another Yautja I made up for all of your pleasure. The above photo is not mine! Credit goes to its owner. Enjoy.

You looked up at him. 

You were smiling as you walked by his side, proud. 

The wedding ceremony was held yesterday, now you are officially his.

His mate.

You have come a long way, from running away from home, getting picked up by an alien and now being a part of their tribe.

You were proud of the long journey you had.

Now, it was time for a different one.

Marriage.

It has been almost 10 years since they took you from Earth. You understood their language, their traditions and their behaviour.

You fell in love with the new tribe leader almost immediately.

He was still young, losing his father to old age, and At'Roh became a young leader.

Young yet fierce.

Many claimed that he was crazy, even with Yautja standards.

One proof of this was the way he got you.

He wanted you, a little human, At'Roh craved something different, something exotic, taking a human as a wife was just that.

But as time passed, and you two grew closer and closer, he couldn't deny the facts.

The facts were that he not only wanted you as a wife due to you being a human.

A fierce human who kept him on his toes, who was not afraid to say no to him.

You rejected his marriage proposal at least five times.

You hoped At'Roh would give up, but he didn't.

Your little play of cat and mouse ended in a way no one expected. 

Everyone thought you two would bring a war within the tribe.

Instead, you two fell in love.

---

It was late at night, you were sleeping in his arms, and everything was perfect until it wasn't.

It all happened so fast.

You knew your mate would immediately go and fight to protect his tribe.

All you need to do is find the other females and go with them.

You have done this before when your tribe was attacked by a group of bad-blood yautja.

At'Roh looked at you one last time before heading out, you gave him a nod. 

You knew what you needed to do.

But it wasn't so easy this time.

The bad-bloods this time had a plan, and you played right into their hand.

They got you way too easy, but they didn't kill you.

Instead, they dragged you to their leader. 

No matter what you tried, you couldn't escape. 

"He's going to get me, you know!" you told him as soon as they tossed you to his legs. "And he will kill you all!!!" you knew they understood, even if they didn't speak your language. 

"At'Roh is dead." the leader replied before they chained you. Your face fell.

He wasn't dead. He couldn't be.

"Liar." was the last thing you said before the collar clicked around your neck.

The long chain connecting to your neck was given to their leader and you were dragged along as they all ran.

They had no ships. 

It was good, there was a chance At'Roh could find you before they got you to a ship and flew away.

You just needed to hold out and slow them down somehow.

---

At'Roh's heavy breathing was the only thing in the house.

He couldn't even see due to his anger.

You were gone.

His wife was gone.

He knew the way this attack played out was too easy. They had a plan. And the plan wasn't to kill him, the plan was to take you.

At'Roh took a deep breath before putting all of his gear on.

If these bad bloods wanted to play, he was going to destroy them.

Hunting was his speciality. At'Roh loved to hunt maybe a bit too much. While other Yautja excelled at it, he became a monster. A crazed hunter who knew nothing else.

Finding you will be a simple task. His blood was boiling because you were taken.

He wanted to save his tribe only to play right into their hands and help them take you.

It was all a trap to kidnap you. It was a level of disrespect he could not forgive.

At'Roh received information that a female saw a group taking you into the forest, they saw no ships.

At'Roh figured they were taking you to a ship to take you away.

And so, the hunt was on.

---

You have not stopped walking since they got you.

A group of four soldiers and a leader.

They have been dragging you along for hours.

You were beginning to get tired.

You felt like you needed to sit down, but they refused. No matter how you begged.

Looks like their perfect plan had a huge flaw.

They didn't take your refusal and unwillingness to cooperate into much consideration.

They honestly thought they could just drag you along and leave with you.

And this gives time for At'Roh to find you.

You managed to find a sharp stone and cut your hand, hoping to give a trail to At'Roh so he could find you more easily.

You hoped it was enough.

---

At'Roh's anger didn't lessen as he continued his hunt. 

It only grew as he noticed blood on the ground.

He only needed the smallest whiff to tell that it was indeed your blood.

He rubbed the wet material on his finger, watching as it almost coated his fingertip.

He hated that.

He didn't want to see you hurt.

It only fueled his anger and he marched forward, angrier than ever.

He will definitely make sure to kill every last one of them.

It was now morning when he finally caught up with the bad bloods. 

Now he just needed a plan to save you from them.

Thankfully his mind was on autopilot almost since the moment he realized you were taken. 

He moved with such ease, killing everyone that came his way.

At'Roh left no survivors.

Due to the chaos, your scent started to mix with others but he managed to find you.

With a knife to your neck as the leader of the bad bloods had you in front of him.

"Let her go." At'Roh demanded with a dangerously low voice. "If you hurt her, I will kill you."

"You will kill me either way. Why not give you some trouble in the meantime?" you understood everything they were saying and you understood what was happening, what you needed to do. You prepared yourself.

"At'Roh," you said his name, hoping to survive this mess.

His eyes moved to you only for a second, the Yautja behind you took this as an opportunity but you also moved. Moving back towards the alien behind you, using all of your body weight, causing his knife only to gaze at your skin, minimalizing the damage. 

Your movement caused the Yautja behind you to fall giving At'Roh enough time to catch up and move you behind himself before he pounced on the bad blood.

You didn't move, watching your mate defending you as he killed the bad blood.

With a loud scream, he killed the other and stood victorious.

But soon, he turned to you and hugged you.

You didn't even care for the bright green blood on his hands or body. You knew it wasn't his.

Soon, he pulled back and looked at your neck, leaning down to lick along the small cut, helping it heal.

"Take me home," you said, and he understood.

Picking you up with one hand he carried you back towards your tribe.

You were so exhausted, that you fell asleep in his arms as he carried you.

You slept almost the entire day away, exhausted from the way you were dragged along, you only woke up when it was almost night again.

At'Roh was, of course, by your side.

You didn't know but you could guess that he never left your side not once.

You looked into his eyes and you felt safe. You felt at home.

"I will not let this happen ever again."

"It's okay, you killed them and saved me." you placed your forehead against his.

You felt his finger trace your neck, where your cut used to be.

At'Roh will make sure this won't happen ever again, you were way too important for him.

You were his wife after all.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @darlingmira @stygianoir @snowtargaryen

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Of Lions and Mice

Leona Kingscholar x Reader

Reader is intended to be female

Masterlist

Leona was annoyed.

Once again, his golden goody-two-shoes older brother decided to shirk his responsibility of being a father and dump the overexcited, disgustingly bright-eyed crown prince on him for the day. And not only that, it had to be today of all days - a rare day where you were free from picking up Crowleys’ slack, where the loudmouthed, nattering extras that always followed you were otherwise preoccupied (and bribed to bugger off with a bag full of tuna), where he was certain he’ll spend the day in bed with you right next to him. 

But no. Just like with everything else in his miserable existence, his dreams were crushed and he had to spend the day playing caretaker to his nephew instead of wrapped up with you. What’s worse was that, you’d decided to carry the pint-sized load off of his back and gave your undivided attention to the cub when it should have been rightfully his. How he hated that selfless nature of yours, that sweet, caring, gentle nature that would make you look at anyone that wasn’t him with that loving gaze, that would make you brush your fingers through Cheka’s golden orange curls the same way you would Grim’s fur or the stray cats you’d find around campus or any other being instead of his mane. 

He hated just how loving you were, how your eyes could see the beauty in everything.

How, now that it’s late at night, and he’s closed his eyes and pretended to sleep in his attempt to actually get some shut eye and so that the little hairball would quit bothering him but Cheka just continues yapping.

Even in the darkness under his eyelids, he could feel you cast a worried look his way from the spot where his bed sags a little.

“Hey Cheka,” your sweet, dulcet voice (which is currently being used to please his nephew and not sooth him to sleep with the sweet nothings it usually does) pipes up, “how about I tell you a bedtime story from my world?”

“A bedtime story?!” Wow, even with his eyes closed he could see the stars coming out of his nephew's eyes, “yes please!”

Once the little cub has settled into bed, he asks you, “do you know any stories from your world with lions in them?

“Any ones with lions? Hmm, well, I suppose I could tell you about Narnia but I think you might be a bit too young for that and - wait,” you punctuated your words with a snap of your fingers, “I know a short one. There was this man called Aesop who wrote these short stories called fables.”

“What’s a fable?” Cheka asked, his words covered in that innocently curious lilt that all six year olds seemed to have during every occasion Leona wished they wouldn’t - and that was all of them.

You, however, seemed to have much more patience than him, “A story with a moral in them. Like, always be honest, or share, or work together, that sort of thing. I had a book of them when I was younger and I really enjoyed reading them.”

Figures. Of course, the shining beacon of sickeningly polite goodness grew up with such stories. He would’ve teased you for that but he had a child who he’s still trying to convince he was asleep.

“That sounds so cool, Aunty Y/N! Will you tell me more?”

“Of course, I will,” he can hear your smile, “but I’ll tell you them later, okay. Now, it’s time for you to rest.” 

“Okay, Aunty Y/N.”

“Alright so,” you clear your throat, “there was once a lion that lay asleep in his den. A shy little mouse came upon him and in her fright she ran away, only whilst doing so she accidentally ran over his head, waking him up.”

“Oh no,” Cheka gasped, “that lion is going to be so angry if he wakes up.”

Oh, so the little hairball does have a brain after all. 

“You’re right. Furious that he had been woken up, the big lion slammed a paw down on the tiny mouse and grabbed her by the tail. Holding her up, he growled at her,” here you made your voice noticeably deeper, trying to imitate a gruff growl, ““How dare you wake me up! I am the king of beasts and anyone who interrupts my slumber deserves to die! I shall kill you and eat you!””

It took everything within Leona to not burst into laughter at your adorable imitation of a ‘big scary lion’. It’s a voice you’ve used before whenever you tease him, playfully repeating the words his old self would have said to you, and it’s one that he’s rather fond of. 

He loves and respects you, Herbivore, and he’s the first to attest to your formidability and capability - even though you have the annoying tendency to not only blur the line between bravery and reckless stupidity but also play skipping rope with it - but intimidating you are not. 

“This scared the terrified mouse even more. Shaking with fear, she begged for him to let her go,” you make your voice higher at this part, squeaking in a way that oddly suited you, in Leona’s not so humble opinion, ““please, your majesty, I beg of you, please don’t eat me. It was only a mistake and if you let me go I’ll be sure to repay you. If you spare my life one day, I might even save yours.””

“The lion looked at the tiny creature and laughed, amused at how such a small mouse could ever be of use to an animal as powerful as him, “You? Save me? How absurd. You’ve made me laugh and put me in a good mood so I shall be generous and let you go.”

“Thank you, your majesty, thank you,” the mouse squeaked as she was put back on the ground, before scurrying away as fast as fast as her little legs could carry her.”

“Yay, so the mouse is free.” Cheka giggled.

“He is,” you said, “but there’s still more left. A few days later, the lion was prowling around when out of nowhere he was caught in a hunter’s net. Try as he might, he couldn’t get out of it. He tossed and turned, roaring angrily as he struggled to escape.”

“Wait, so now the lion’s in trouble. How’s he going to get out?” Cheka asked in worry. 

“You’ll see. Hearing his cries, the mouse followed the sound, recognising it from the lion he met earlier.

“I have to help him,” she squeaked as she scampered towards him.”

Upon seeing the lion in the net, she said, “hold still your majesty, I’ll get you out!”

And she quickly started to nibble on the ropes with her sharp little teeth, biting until all they broke apart. It wasn’t long until the lion was free.”

“So the mouse saved him. Was it because the lion helped him earlier?”

“It certainly was Cheka. “Thank you, little mouse,” the lion said, “I laughed at you and didn’t think you could ever help me but you saved my life.”

“It was my turn to help you.” The mouse replied, ”never forget that even a creature as small as a mouse can help a lion.”

And that’s the end,” you say.

“Thank you, Auntie Y/N, I really enjoyed that. Do you think the lion and mouse became friends after that?”

“You are very welcome, Cheka. I think they did. They did help each other, after all. Now I think it’s time to go to sleep.”

And once you were sure that the crown prince was asleep, you made your way next to your boyfriend, running your fingers through chestnut locks, “did you enjoy that little story, Leona.”

He opens his eyes to see your endeared smile. Rolling over so that he could wrap his arms around your waist he muses, “it seems awfully familiar don’t you think? A scared little herbivore wakes up a sleeping lion and ends up saving him later.”

“I’ll have you know, Your Highness, that I was never scared of you. Even when you were a rude old brute who threatened to knock out one of my teeth. And I’m certainly not little.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” 

He pulls, letting you flop down on his bed beside him so that he can spoon you.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse,” he kissed your forehead, “I hope you know that I don’t ever intend on letting you go. Not after you helped in ways you could never even imagine.”

And so the lion fell asleep, holding the prey who rescued him from the confinement of his past safely in his arms.

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

DP x DC Prompt: The Watchlist

Batman has a watchlist. A list that contains every individual who could become a rouge and a contingency plan for if they did.  

And while they, his children, often make fun of his paranoia and him for having it, they totally understand why he did. They lived in Gotham, for Christ's sake. Where everyone’s just a pin drop away from being the city’s next big villain, forcing the bats to scratch their heads while playing cat and mouse with a sicko for a good few weeks. And while they won’t admit it, the list has helped them a few times. 

But that won’t stop them from making fun of any of the list’s new developments. Because you see, there was a new list. And it wasn’t just a watchlist. No, no, no. It was The Watchlist.

It was a new development after he and Robin went on an out-of-state mission to investigate some town in bum fuck nowhere Illinois. And it was under some pretty tight security as well, so they were expecting something good, like mad scientists or evil mayors. Not profiles of the kids who lived in the town. And while there were a few metas and vigilantes that made the list interesting, by the end of it all they just seemed to be teenagers. 

Until they saw Damian. They hadn’t seen him since he came back from the mission with B. He looked tired. Like ‘Tim hasn’t slept in a week and is surviving on just coffee beans’ tired.

“Ah, I see you all have found it. Good. A few of them will be arriving next week as they’re a part of Gotham Academy’s student exchange program. At least three of them will be staying in the manor with us. Father will need you all to be on standby and to be ready for any possible scenario. Please, for the love of all that is good, do not encourage them in any way, shape, or form. And please do not dismiss them either. The outcome of doing that will be much worse. Is there more that I should add? Yes. Will I? No, because you won’t understand. Not until you've seen what I have.” 

The demon child sighed, then looked them dead in the eyes. “Godspeed to us all.” Then walked away.

Okay, they were scared now.

[br0kenangel]

𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐋: 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘥𝘰.

The door opened without a knock, and in strode your eldest son, Aegon. His expression was one of barely contained fury, his mouth set in a hard line. He wore the black and red of his house, his silver hair shining in the light.

You didn’t rise or greet him formally. Instead, you took a slow sip of your wine, watching him like a cat watches a mouse caught in a trap.

“Mother,” he said, his voice sharp and clipped.

“Aegon,” you replied coolly, setting your goblet down with a faint clink. “Come, sit. You look as if you’ve been chewing on a sour lemon.”

Aegon’s nostrils flared slightly as he sat across from you. His jaw was tight, and his hands were clenched into fists.

“What did he do this time? Has your father’s wisdom left you choking on your own tongue?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“It’s not wisdom he’s choking on. He’s a fool if he thinks Rhaenyra’s claim will hold this kingdom together. He’s determined to throw it all to the wolves. And for what? His precious daughter?”

Aegon slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair, the wood creaking under the pressure. “He still insists on keeping Rhaenyra as his heir,” he spat, his voice brimming with frustration. “Despite all the signs—despite the whispers in the court, despite the tension between the lords—he clings to this foolish notion that she will unite the realm.”

You tilted your head, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Ah, the great dreamer, your father. One might think he’s convinced himself he lives in one of his old songs about gallant knights and wise queens.”

“Dreams,” Aegon spat, his voice dripping with disdain as he stalked toward the window, glaring out at the city below. “Dreams won’t stop the realm from tearing itself apart. His stubbornness is going to ruin us all.”

You arched an eyebrow and tilted your head, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Tell me, my dear, what’s worse: a king who refuses to see reason or a son who insists on treating every disagreement like a declaration of war?”

“I need to act, Mother,” Aegon growled. “The realm is on the verge of breaking apart, and he’s too blind to see it.”

You leaned forward slightly, resting your chin on your fingers. “And how do you propose to fix this? Drag him from his throne by the scruff of his neck? That would be quite a sight.”

He glared at you, though there was no real malice in his eyes. “This isn’t a jest.”

“Oh, I’m well aware,” you replied smoothly. “But sometimes, my son, the truth is so absurd that the only thing left to do is laugh.”

Aegon’s eyes snapped back to you, sharp as daggers. “I am declaring war,” he said, his tone dangerous. “War on stupidity. Father is leaving our family vulnerable. The lords see weakness, and weakness is blood in the water. They will turn on us the moment Rhaenyra takes the throne.”

You laughed softly, amused by his intensity. “Oh, Aegon. Always so dramatic.” You paused, giving him a pointed look. “You think the lords will rise for her? The only thing these men rise for is power. Offer them that, and they will forget who was promised what. It’s always the same song, my son. Play the right tune, and they will dance to your music.”

Aegon clenched his fists at his sides, the tension rolling off him in waves. “The music won’t matter if Father continues to shield her with his blind loyalty. He treats her like she’s untouchable, like the gods themselves have chosen her to rule.”

“Ah, yes, the gods,” you said dryly, waving a dismissive hand. “A convenient excuse for poor decision-making. If we all did what the gods wanted, we’d be living in rags and begging for scraps. No, Aegon, the gods don’t care for the affairs of men. This game, this fight for the throne—it belongs to us. It always has.”

Aegon paced in front of you, his mind racing. “And yet, here I am, watching as the realm slips through my fingers because my father insists on upholding his dying legacy. Rhaenyra is weakness. She’ll tear the kingdom apart the moment she’s crowned, and he refuses to see it.”

“Your father has always been a romantic at heart,” you said with a sigh. “He’s clinging to the idea that love and family will prevail over politics. A fool’s hope, if ever there was one.”

“Fool,” Aegon muttered under his breath, his frustration clear.

You regarded him with a look that was equal parts admiration and exasperation. “Just as I expected,” you muttered, more to yourself than him.

Aegon furrowed his brow. “What?”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind. I'm just proud of my son. Ruthless, cold, but oh so clever.”

He blinked, unsure if you were complimenting him or insulting him.

You leaned back, your voice turning serious now. “Aegon, you have ambition, that much is clear. And yes, your father’s decision may well lead to war. But wars are not won by anger and frustration. They are won by strategy, by waiting for the right moment to strike.”

“I don’t have time to wait,” Aegon said through gritted teeth. “If we delay, we will lose support. The longer Rhaenyra remains the heir, the more dangerous she becomes.”

You smirked. “Dangerous? Rhaenyra? The woman has more soft edges than the pillows on my bed.”

“She’s dangerous because of the people around her,” Aegon snapped. “Daemon, Corlys, and all those who would see her on the throne. They will turn the realm against us.”

You hummed thoughtfully. “Daemon is certainly a problem. And Corlys…well, his stupidity is only matched by his ego. But you are right. The lords will not stay loyal to Rhaenyra for long if they sense weakness.”

Aegon looked at you, his eyes sharp and determined. “Then we need to act.”

You held up a hand. “Calm yourself, boy. This isn’t a tavern brawl. You must act carefully, deliberately. There’s a difference between being strong and being reckless. Don’t be such a child about it.”

Aegon’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I’m not a child.”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Then stop acting like one, stamping your feet because your father won’t do as you wish. He won’t change his mind, Aegon. He’s too proud and too stubborn, just like you.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “Listen, Aegon. I raised you to be a ruler, not a brute. You must understand the importance of timing. Your father will not change his mind easily, but he is not your true enemy. The lords, the people—they are the ones you must win over.”

“And what would you have me do, Mother?”

You gave him a small, almost conspiratorial smile. “You show them that you are the only one who can protect them. You play the part of the dutiful son, for now. Let your father continue with his dream. But when the time comes—and it will come—you make sure the realm sees you as the only viable option. The lords are like sheep. They will follow the strongest shepherd.”

Aegon’s eyes narrowed slightly, the wheels in his mind turning. “I can steady it,”

You smiled. “I know. And you will. But you have to be patient. Anger makes for terrible decisions.”

“I have no patience left for Father’s foolishness,” Aegon muttered.

“Then let him be foolish,” you replied coolly. “Let him play his hand. And when the time is right, we’ll play ours.”

“And what if the time never comes?” Aegon asked, his voice low, full of doubt.

You smiled, leaning back once more. “Oh, it will. It always does.”

Aegon stood there for a moment, visibly wrestling with himself, before he let out a long breath and sat down across from you. “You’ve always had more faith in my future than I have.”

“I trained you for this, didn’t I?” you said dryly. “I didn’t raise a fool. Nor did I raise a man who lets his temper dictate his choices. You should know that the moment you act out of rage, you’ve already lost.”

Aegon’s lips twitched, the tension in the room easing slightly. “So, I’m to be the calm one, while everyone else runs around like fools?”

“You are to be the calm storm,” you corrected. “Let them think you’re passive, let them underestimate you. The realm is full of fools, but we are not among them.”

Aegon finally allowed himself a small, grim smile. “You’re far more ruthless than anyone may think, Mother.”

You raised your goblet in a mock toast. “I take that as a compliment.”

He nodded, his resolve clearly strengthening. “I’ll bide my time, then. But when the time comes—”

“When the time comes,” you interrupted smoothly, “you’ll be ready. And the realm will kneel to you, as it should.”

Aegon stood, the weight of your words settling comfortably on his shoulders. “I’ll see to it.”

You watched him head toward the door, then called after him. “Aegon.”

He paused, glancing back at you.

“Don’t be afraid to smile,” you added with a wicked smirk. “It unsettles people when a king looks like he’s already won.”

Aegon chuckled, a rare sound, but one that left the room with more tension released than when he’d entered.

As he left, you leaned back in your chair, sipping your wine and staring out the window again. The game had been in motion for years, and your son had finally learned how to play it.

“Well,” you murmured to yourself, “this should be interesting.”

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Part 3 ♡ Part 4 ♡ Part 5

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[gremlingottoosilly]

More illegal back alley doctor reader x Mafia!Konig!!!

You hoped he would stop coming eventually. You helped him once, never asked for anything in return, just hoping he would stop trying to get your part of town under his control, so you'd have to patch up fewer criminals every day...but it seems like Konig is really bad at picking up hints that a woman isn't really interested in him. He paid you - a lot, actually. Enough to cover up rent, replacement of some equipment and the new stuff you could use for your patience, and enough dumb little coffees to buy from places you couldn't afford before. The payment was nice, especially since you thought he'd stop pestering you after it went through...and, of course, you were deadly fucking wrong. The next payment went in the form of a suspiciously big box inside your apartment. A big red bow, kinda scrunchy and obviously packaged by hands that are way more used to killing people than preparing gifts. You'd say you are surprised that there isn't a bomb in the box, but honestly, the real thing was way worse. You stare at the vaguely expensive set of lingerie and a totally super expensive necklace that looks more like a collar than something dainty and elegant. You spotted the tracker - it didn't look like it was hidden, to be honest. Like the sender of said gift knew you wouldn't dare throw away his gifts. He was right, of course. You hoped Konig would stop, or at least be satisfied with only sending you gifts...you were wrong again. He didn't stop showing up at your doorstep, either giving you gifts in person, scaring away any poor fucker who thought that dealing with an illegal doctor would mean they could just not pay you for stitching up their bullet wounds, or just sitting in your improvised office, staring at you like a kicked puppy. The sight wasn't too good for a man of his position - honestly, seeing him all dazed and romantic almost made you want to die. Jesus, you almost forgot just how plainly terrifying this guy is. If Konig can't make you come to his place, he will kidnap you. You know this, and you also know you can't hide...so, you obey. Sort of. You let him call you his kleine engel, you let him cuddle with you and bury his masked face in your chest as he would whisper about all the things he would do to you once you're his wife. He lets you stay kind of independent after each time you let him fuck you on the same table you used to treat him on, and you almost agree to come with him every time. Almost. He will clip your wings eventually, but he likes playing cat and mouse a bit too much.

[toxycodone]

Chimera!Falin x Reader

an. separated w/ general sfw and nsfw hcs. reader is an adventurer who happens to catch the Red Dragon’s interest….

tw. monster fucking, predator/prey dynamics

sfw.

Now…being a lone adventurer is difficult. Especially in your case. Not only are you prey to almost anything in the dungeon, but you’ve found yourself prey to its most apex predator—The Red Dragon.

Well, at least you think? Oddly enough…for a dragon, it’s very pretty. You don’t remember hearing about it having a human head and torso. With pretty blonde hair and golden eyes…Gods, she’s beautiful…

That’s what you’re thinking in the back of the mind while the Dragon pins you down with one hefty paw. It’s insane how large it is compared to you. One look to the side and you can see the large claw is longer than the length of your head. However, despite this position…it doesn’t hurt, per se. She has enough weigh on you to make you hesitant to breathe too deeply, but, she isn’t killing you….which is odd.

When you finally look to the dragon, you’re shocked to see her so close to your face.

“Not Delgal…” She whispers in a hoarse voice. You don’t know who that is, or why the Dragon or all creatures is looking for this person but…okay. As you brace yourself for what’s next, the Dragon grasps your face in her human ones. They’re soft and plush.

She brings her face to yours and licks a long stipe up it with her forked tongue, cleaning off some semi-dried blood of your companions. Her breath smells slightly coppery as she does so.

“Still good.” She nuzzles into your face, her feathers tickling your skin.

It's fucking weird. And you're not sure if you hate it or you love it. But hey...at least you're alive?

Since then, you've basically become the Dragon's little pet. She doesn't speak much, and you figure it must have something to do with her being some sort of chimera monstrosity, but she at least has the decency to introduce herself to you as Falin.

You also get confronted by Thistle...you thought the elf might help you. But no. He just sighs when he sees Falin drag you along with her. If it makes her happy, he's not arguing against it. Sorry. You're trapped.

But at least Falin is a good caretaker. She watches over you like a hawk. A big, scary, red dragony hawk. Even if you're just sitting around, enjoying the scenery...she just stares. with that disgustingly cute little smile of hers.

When the two of you travel together, she likes it when you ride on her back, but she also stores you in her thick plumage on the front of her body too. Her favorite is to carry you in her own human arms and walk around with you like you're some sort of stuffed animal. It's...kinda adorable. Maybe more cute if you weren't lowkey kidnapped.

If any adventurers dare harm you...it's over for them. You learned quickly to either look away or hide somewhere, because Falgon shows no mercy. As cute and sweet as she can be, she's equally deadly.

And you don't hide very far away...escaping is futile. Plus it becomes a fun game for her. It's literal cat and mouse. She can smell you. Sense you. It doesn't matter. She'll crush walls and buildings to get to you.

And if you run, it makes it worse. She'll catch you like a bug, her scaly front feet cage you in as she pounces on you. Then she just...dangles you and plays with you like a mouse.

She feels bad afterwards. It's hard for Falin to know her own strength in this form. She often accidentally scratches or bruises you. To make up for it, she'll sing a little lullaby and use her healing magic on you. It always lulls you into the most restful slumber you've had, no matter how much pain you're in or how scared you are.

After a little time, things do become oddly? Domestic?

Falin bathes you as often as possible. She likes to help get you clean as a bonding activity. She's really gentle and calm in these moments--the two of you just bathing in a nice dungeon waterfall or somewhere in the golden kingdom.

In return, you help her preen! You gently pick out pin feathers and brush off feather dust while she trills in happiness and coos at you. It's probably one of your favorite things to do as she just hums sweetly and lets you do it. She also likes it when you do her hair (adventurers are definitely left wondering why the Red Dragon has braids or double buns)

She also forages and hunts for you. Little berries? Snack for you! Is there a nice fruit tree on the floor you're exploring? She's hopping up there and picking you enough to eat all day.

Falin also uh. will hunt. After you scold her for dropping a giant monster carcass on you she learns not to do it again but hey? it was kinda funny. From then on she only brings you things she knows you can cook

And as typical...she has a nest. It's not anything crazy, but it's a cozy little thing made of foilage, her feathers, and other soft materials she found in the dungeon. When it's time to go to bed, she lets you lay down first and cuddles around you like a cat. Or she'll let you lay on her and cozy into her feathers. Her soft down feels like a cloud and you just sink in <3 it's adorable.

nsfw.

I'M ON TEAM FALIN CHIMERA DICK.

Since you're her prized treasure...her everything...naturally she views you as her mate.

That means, she gets into ruts. It's only natural for her to want to breed with you, right? Plus, she likes to make you feel good.

However...she is WAY too big to even begin to think to fit inside you. You could probably fucking grapple her if you wanted to. So sex between the two of you is pretty...interesting.

When she trills, the vibrations are intense. If you're sitting on her front and preening her, it's extremely difficult for you to keep your composure while you're doing this. She knows it, and does it on purpose. The vibrations run from her chest, to your thighs and up your spine. Eventually, a simple preening turns to you desperately humping her chest while she just smiles and watches you.

One of her favorite things to do though is hold you in one paw and give you oral. You're distended in the air, held tight by her claws. Then you feel her soft, warm human hands spread your thighs open and lap at you. It's enthralling to knows this creature that could easily snap you in half could just. Do that. And she makes the sweetest little moans and hums while she tastes you. You almost forget she's a chimera with the soul of a literal dragon.

You can fuck yourself on one of her claws or the tip of her tail. She'll round out a claw (just in case, Falin doesn't wanna hurt you) so you can ride it like a dildo and see how much you can take. Same with the tip of her tail. Falin just lays down and moves it in and out, slowly but surely stretching you out while you cry out. Her face is almost as red as her body while she watches you do this with hungry eyes.

Even though it's impossible to fit her cock inside you, goddamnit, you try. You can barely even get 3/4 of the head in, but it's cute to watch your tiny body give it an attempt. Awww, you're that desperate for her? Cute. When she gets too pent up from all the teasing, though, Falin just grasps you with her claws and slides you up and down her length. Grinding against her is heavenly. It coats your body in slick and your own cum and eventually....hers. She cums enough that you need a bath afterwards. But if you don't have time, she'll happily lick you clean. (And spend extra time between your thighs, making you cum again on her face)

And she is...a biter. She can't help it. You're her mate. Falin sinks her teeth into the soft flesh of your thighs, your ass, and your shoulders the most. She loves the taste of your blood, the primal part of her desires it, and she likes seeing the marks on you. It's insanely sexy for her to know SHE did that. And its a sign that she owns you. <3

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Satyr König who is always chasing and herding poor nymph!reader and the other pretty nymph ladies around the shallow water where they played and giggled until this giamt horny beast appeared with his leaking cock and wanted to mate with them >:(

But honestly König doesn't care anymore, he wants to breed with the pretty nymphs and if that means getting overstimulated with how much you and the other girls are riding him then he'll happily accept such 'punishment'! He's awfull! But his balls are full and heavy and he's very virile so it's so big deal at all♡

Satyr!König is an absolute pervert, a lustful rural god as they say. Of course he's watching naked, unsuspecting nymphs playing in the water, chasing each other in the middle of a glade!

CW: Exhibitionism & masturbation. König getting frustrated with a bunch of nymphs because no one wants to mate with him.

They haven't seen him yet, slowly stroking his cock behind a tree. Grinding his hips against his hand, imitating thrusting inside a woman even if it's just his large, hard fist he's fucking here, their giggles make his tip wet as they splash water all over themselves. Sweet, soft bodies glisten in the sun, dozens of nipples perk up from the cold water, these nymphs are making his cock leak all over the ground :(

It's their fault for being so cute; he really has no choice but to start a little chase. First, he tries to walk into the sunny view, cock hard and very presentable, but to his great fury, the nymphs just scream and scatter like dandelion seeds in the wind.

He tries to catch them, even just one of them, to bully with his cock, but they start to play with him when they notice they're faster than a clumsy old faun. He almost snatches one by the waist, but the nymph turns into a young willow and he finds himself only humping against the soft bark of a tree.

Hearing a chime of giggles all around him, his cock gives another angry pull. They're laughing at him stumbling around like a centaur, or worse yet, they're laughing at his cock that's twitching and leaking between his hairy thighs, deprived of a woman's warmth :(

He's being played like a fool, and he throws his head back in the middle of the glen and roars, scaring away birds and squirrels with a mighty, furious bellow.

He just wanted to give them his seed, maybe tickle them with his tongue, but if they're going to make fun of him like this, he'll show them what they're missing... He'll show them what happens when you play cat and mouse with a horny god.

Catching his throbbing cock in an angry fist, he starts to stroke himself and play with his balls, the hairiest and heaviest part of all fauns. Knows that the dumb little creatures are watching with wide eyes and dropped jaws even if their stupid giggles have stopped.

The forest has fallen silent, and that's exactly what he wants. There's no bright laughter anymore, only fascinated, soft whispering all around him as he groans and moans, the thick release not far away as he imagines himself fucking a pretty nymph who's hungry and desperate for his cock. If no one's going to take up on this thick, hairy offer, he's going to ruin their day and cover their little nymph glade with seed...

[vhaos-chaotic-writing]

idea.. Yandere! tfa! Blitzwing x autobot! y/n who is energetic and transforms into a tank (and is also significantly smaller than him) ... Haven't seen a lot of Yandere Blitzwing and thats make me sad bc he's my pookie...

Oooh! I'm once again poiting out to have a lil bit patience with me cuz I've never seen TF Animated - I'll do my best to give the best accurate writing of the characters, specially someone like Blitzwing!!

(❁´◡`❁) Hope you like it!

(TFA) Yandere!Blitzwing w/ energetic Autobot!S/O (Headcanons)

WARNINGS: Yandere behaviour, yandere has multiple personalities (canon), enemies-to-lover (unilateral). Reader is Gender neutral, Reader is Cybertronian with an established alt mode (a tank) and established height (smaller than Blitzwing, 1 inch taller than Bumblebee)

Oh Primus - where to start? Blitzwing is such a special case, and, in my point of view, one of the most complex yanderes in my vision of TFA.

You don't have 1, or 2, but 3 whole yanderes coexisting in the same frame. And they all like you - very, very much.

Icy Blitzwing is a manipulative, obsessive yandere.

Hothead Blitzwing is a possessive, overprotective yandere.

Random Blitzwing is a delusional, hysteric yandere.

And such traits become 10 times worse with the fact that you were an autobot - the supposed enemy he is tasked to destroy if the chance is placed on the table.

Weren't you just the sweetest, most beautiful pain in the aft for Blitzwing? Even when you were smaller (barely beating Bumblebee for 1 single inch in height), you were such a ball of energy and a menace in your tank alt mode whenever you were fighting decepticons.

In the beginning Blitzwing would have hated you.

You always got away with the trouble you give to the Decepticons whenever they clash and battle with the Autobots - and in the beginning, Blitzwing thought he hated you just in a normal amount. The typical "oh they defeated me and my faction!" hate.

But whenever he saw you be all buddy-buddy with any of your autobot teammates... something inside of him wanted to become violent.

More than usual.

And it bothered him for so many days - whenever your image came to his mind he would become more irritable in his Icy personality, more aggressive in his Hothead personality, and... eerily silent in his Random personality.

It was in one fight between him and you that he finally understood everything. Why his feelings towards you felt too strong for his liking.

He didn't hate you. He loved you.

"C'mon, decepticreep! Thought you were one to actually put on a fight!" You shout, giggling as you change from your tank mode, smirking at how bewildered Blitzwing was, as you were ready to throw another kick and punch.

You were awaiting for an explosive outburst from his Hothead personality, or watch his Icy personality lose his coolness - heck, even to see his Random personality start to laugh or something.

Instead... you were met with his three faces switching, all of them smiling as if he had found the answer to every single question in the whole universe.

"Ze name iz Blitzwing..." He started, Icy. "And you are..." He continued, Hothead. "MINE!!!" He finished, his Random persona switching his faceplate and jumping towards you, trying to tackle you.

Thanks to Primus, you got to escape that day and go back to your safe place in the Autobot's base, but from that day one, the decepticon became way more unhinged than he was already.

And he would get worse if he got to see you again.

His switching personalities became more erratic, and yet somehow worked perfectly.

His Icy personality would make him extra dangerous with his tactics and taking-decisions ability. He had from time to time managed to get you away from your team in battles and nearly got his servos all over you. Like he always had the upper hand and manipulated the whole situation in the end, as if a cat and mouse play.

His Hothead personality would became a beast, getting everything and anyone out of the way with such a fierce force that it was nearly unstoppable as he would try to get to you - a couple of times he had got to immobilize you if it wan'st thanks to one of your teammates helping you get out of that situation. Always threatening to get you next time and shout a couple of death promises to anyone who saved you.

His Random personality would drain you emotionally - between trying to save your aft by fighting or trying to escape him, Blitzwing would say dark, lovesick promises, what he would do to anybot that got to place their servos on you and so on, laughing hysterically. It made you feel sick and actually be afraid of the decepticon.

"My love! My sweetspark - soon you'll see the truth, and you'll be mine!"

Optimus and the others are so concern, having witnessed too many times how obsessed the decepticon has become towards you.

They can't keep you inside of the base, they need you out helping and you have put down the idea of staying back.

But Blitzwing is counting the kliks, keeping an optic on everything and you, calculating, thinking, waiting for that little window of opportunity to snatch you away, for the day your luck runs out and you finally end up in his arms.

Oh, to hold your smaller frame with his servos, to kiss you, to feel your plates with his digits, to have his spark bond with yours - it is going to be perfect!

Ngl, I like how this one turned out! (*^▽^*) Vhaos out!

[impish-baby]

You should totally have a yandere queen caregiver who’s is just obsessed with one of the servants!!!

by the way I love all your writing

Does the swallow dream of flying - platonic yandere queen x servant reader - 👑

(Trigger warnings: reader is hurt offscreen, queen helps them take a bath, threats/mentions of violence not towards reader)

Beatrice has struggled to bear children of her own, it is an unfortunate truth. Perhaps that's why she feels the need to be softer to the younger members of her staff, using them as surrogates for what she can not have. There is one servant in particular that always catches her eye. A bit ditzy, but that is forgivable, the effort and pride they obviously put into their work making up for it. She does not mean to coddle, but they help soothe the growing ache in her chest.

The sight of you sniffling in a pathetic heap on the floor is already enough to anger her, but the fact that you're clutching your reddened cheek only makes matters worse. Combined with the fact that your shirt is stained with hot tea, the queen would like nothing more to hang the perpetrator this instant but she has more immediate matters to tend to.

"You are aware that crying like a child won't help anything, correct?" Beatrice kneels, a firm frown on her face as she pinches your chin between her fingers, turning your head to the side. The handprint is apparent, marring the skin of your face. She'll do better than hang your aggressor, they won't have a hand to strike with at all first.

"Come," she commands, standing up to her full height after releasing you. "Let's get you cleaned up." Once you're back onto your feet, Beatrice is already leading you through the halls, your head bowed in shame. You must think you're in trouble, far from it, but she'll allow you to think so if it keeps you cooperative.

The maids know better than to speak up once they see the look on the queen's face, silently opening the door to her chambers as she marches through while you follow behind like a lost ducking. Her room is massive much larger than your measly quarters, and a stinging fear courses through you at the thought of it also being the king's room.

Beatrice pays no mind to the troubled look on your face however, ordering a maid to fetch you a change of clothes before ushering you into the bathroom. Once inside, she's already rolling up the sleeves of her dress and kneeling beside the tub, starting to run a steaming bath. Bubbles couldn't hurt either, she muses, you deserve to be pampered a little.

The sight of you awkwardly fidgeting in the corner makes her scoff, but she can not deny the fondness in her heart at the image. "Do you expect to bathe in your clothes?" That simple comment is enough to stir you into action, Beatrice having the decency to turn away as you get undressed and slip into the water. When she turns back around, she can't help but smile at the sight of you gingerly playing with the bubbles.

"We'll wash your hair first, alright?" The queen's voice is much softer than usual as she kneels down again, "Back towards me, darling." You comply easily enough, even with how tense you're sitting in the water. Poor thing, you act so much like a scared mouse afraid of a cat, if only you knew how much she adored you. Beatrice hums as she starts to shampoo your hair, scratching your scalp in an attempt for you to relax.

You didn't think her majesty could be so gentle, sure she's never been cruel to you, but that does not make her any less intimidating. She seems...perfectly relaxed at the moment. It's odd. You do not deserve such care, especially not from the queen herself, but you're not brave enough to ask for an explanation.

Your hair is soon rinsed, Beatrice placing her hand over your forehead so no soap runs into your eyes. Her gentle care, along with the warm water makes your already weary form long for rest, almost nodding off in the tub. 'How cute..' The queen coos to herself, resigning to quickly finish up the bath so you can sleep.

You're barely awake by the time she's grabbed a towel for you, clumsily stepping into it before she's wrapping the fluffy fabric around your body. She takes it upon herself to dry your hair as well, but at least let's you dress yourself, only helping button your shirt when it proves too difficult.

Her bed is softer than clouds, you're sure. It only takes seconds for you to drift off with your head in Beatrice's lap, not hearing the bedroom door creek open or the hushed conversation that follows soon after.

[theobsessivesideblog]

Hook Where it Hurts

Astarion finds himself Experiencing Emotions™ after a battle takes a turn for the worse.

Warnings: violence/injury, death, angst BUT happy ending I promise

—————————————————————

Your time in the Underdark had been relatively uneventful, all things considered. Sure there were Minotaurs, the occasional bulette, and exploding mushrooms, but there was something strangely beautiful about the alien landscape. The myconids were a friendly, if odd and slightly bloodthirsty bunch. Your conversation with Omeluum had proved enlightening, and trade with Blurg and Derryth had garnered you some useful items. Overall you couldn’t bring yourself to regret following Halsin’s advice to take the subterranean path to the Shadow-Cursed lands. 

You set up camp at the Myconid colony, heading out at first light (or at least what you assumed was first light without the actual sun to confirm) to begin your trek towards the lake Sovereign Spaw had pointed you toward. An hour into your walk a glow appeared in the distance, lighting up the gloom of the cavernous landscape. 

“I say, that can’t be… I do believe that may be a Sussur tree!” Gail exclaimed from behind you. “Powerful things, and rare, uniquely capable of completely nullifying magical forces, just fascinating!” he continued, eyes alight at the prospect of examining one up close. 

“Sussur… that sounds familiar,” Karlach pondered. 

“Ah! Right you are my fiery friend, there were instructions in the village about making a weapon with the bark! That would likely prove to be a powerful tool, we should certainly take a look.” 

You gazed towards the tree, comparing its location with the heading you had gotten from Spaw. In all likelihood you would end up passing nearby, may as well go on purpose. 

“Seems like it won’t be too much of a detour,” you announced, glancing around the group. “All in favor?”

“I’d never say no to a new kick-ass weapon,” Karlach grinned. 

“That’s two for, Astarion?” you asked, looking over towards the rogue.

“I doubt our resident magician will shut up about it until we pay a visit, so fine. Let’s go traipsing through the monster-infested dark to look at the magic tree,” Astarion said with a dramatic eye roll. 

“Anti-magic, technically, you see the—“ Gale’s chatter came to an abrupt halt as Astarion shot him a withering glance. “Right, yes, um. Shall we?” 

——————— 

You had to admit, the Sussur tree was breathtaking. Far larger than you had initially realized, clearly ancient and powerful. You glanced over to see your companions’ reactions, breath catching as your eyes met Astarion’s. His pale skin was nearly pearlescent in the ethereal glow, the blue light making his red eyes darker than usual. He stared back, lips pulling into a smirk, and a shiver of desire ran down your spine as he began prowling towards you. You’d been playing this game of cat and mouse for days, taking turns taunting and tempting each other and you were curious to see who would break first.

A movement behind Astarion’s shoulder broke you out of your reverie, eyes catching on a monstrous creature slowly beginning to descend toward your troupe from the raised roots of the tree. Your face paled and you saw Astarion’s brow furrow in your periphery as he registered that he had lost your attention, turning to see what had distracted you. He stiffened as he caught sight of the beast, silently reaching to retrieve an arrow while you hissed quietly towards Gale and Karlach in an attempt to get their attention. Karlach looked your way and you subtly gestured towards the creature as it crept closer to the group, trying to hold back the urge to laugh as she reached out and smacked Gale’s arm, interrupting his lecture on the properties of the blossoms.  

A few more wordless glances between the four of you had everyone subtly moving into position, preparing for what was sure to be a short battle. You glanced across the clearing, locking eyes with each of your companions before giving a tight nod as all of you attacked at once. The creature let out a shriek as it was barraged by both metal and magic, falling from its root bridge and hitting the ground below with a sickening crunch. 

As the adrenaline faded from your system and you walked forward to observe the corpse you were nearly disappointed by how easily the beast had fallen. Not that you ever wanted to get your ass kicked but you had certainly expected that a monster with as many teeth and claws as this one would’ve put up a bit more of a fight. Karlach had turned away with a dissatisfied pout on her lips as she sheathed her weapon and Astarion had already started to wander off to investigate the rest of the cave as you gently nudged the cooling body on the ground with the tip of your boot. It was grotesque up close, a bird-like skeletal face filled with vicious teeth and enormous, razor-sharp hooks protruding from the end of each arm in place of hands. Beside you Gale was surveying the corpse with a strangely joyous expression.

“What a fascinating beast! We got quite lucky, they’re exceptional hunters, certainly wouldn’t want to run into one of these unprepared! They’re called Hook Horrors!” he announced gleefully to no one in particular.

“Did someone say something about whores?” Astarion called from across the cavern. Karlach snorted loudly as she and Gale began making their way over towards him and you rolled your eyes as your lips curled into a smile.

“Yes, Star, Gale has deeply insulted me,” you called back sarcastically. “You may need to come defend my honor! In fact, I–”

You cut off abruptly as a shriek pierced through the air, echoing off the hard rock. You all whipped toward the sound, weapons coming back to the ready as another hook horror climbed out from behind a patch of roots close to your three companions. As you watched it emerge you distractedly thought that it would be nice to go back to fighting above ground again. The way sound bounced around the rocks always made it sound like there was something behind you, and some paranoid instinct had you sending a cursory glance back over your shoulder to calm your nerves. 

You froze in place, realizing your fears had been well founded as another hook horror silently emerged from around the corner of the cavern wall and leapt towards you. You barked out a startled curse and jumped back as it took a swing at you. The first horror may have fallen easily enough against the four of you, but your companions were locked in battle on the other side of the cavern and you were well aware that a one-on-one fight was one you wouldn’t win. 

You kept your eyes locked on the creature as you began backing your way across the cave, hoping you could get within range of your party before it lost patience and struck. Based on the sounds the other monster was emitting it wouldn’t be a threat for much longer. You tightened your hold on your weapon, preparing to strike as you crept back another step, heart skipping as the rock you had stepped on shifted underneath your boot. You glanced down for a split second, trying to find your footing, a sense of dread filling you as you saw the hook horror jump into motion in your peripheral vision. 

The hook drove into your side and you screamed. Pain the likes of which you’d never felt before tore through you as the hook horror yanked its arm across your abdomen, tearing through your stomach. You thought you heard someone shout, but they sounded a million miles away as you collapsed to your knees before the beast, your sight dimming around the edges. You vaguely registered a flash of blades and a wet thump as the hook horror’s head hit the ground before your vision was taken over by Astarion’s panicked visage. His hands gripped your face, feeling unnaturally warm against your cheeks as the world faded away.  

“No no no, you can’t die, get UP damn you!” he shouted, desperately trying to staunch the flow of blood from the jagged cut across your midsection even as a small voice in the back of his mind told him it was too late. His shaking hands were covered in your blood but he had never found it less appealing, appetite long gone as he stared at your unnaturally pale face. “Please, my sweet, don’t do this to me,” he pleaded, vision clouding as his eyes filled with tears. He saw a red blur on his left as Karlach kneeled down beside him and he instinctively curled around you protectively, arms gently slipping around your back as he clutched your unmoving form against his chest.

“Astarion, we need–”  

“Give me a healing potion. Now.” he ordered, voice dangerously low.

“It’s too late, Astarion. We need to get her body back–”

“Don’t say it like that,” he growled shakily. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, trying to steady himself but choking on the scent of your blood in the air. “A resurrection scroll then,” he demanded, glaring in Gale’s direction.

“I… it won’t work. The tree–”

Astarion snarled out a curse and pressed his forehead against your frigid cheek, desperately trying to contain the sob attempting to claw its way out of him. 

“We need to get her to camp, Astarion,” Karlach repeated gently, a small line of steam rising from where a tear had just rolled her cheek. “We need Shadowheart. I can carry–”

“No,” he murmured, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face with a trembling hand before adjusting one of his arms beneath your knees and standing with you cradled against him. “I’ve got her.” 

———————

They were farther from camp than Astarion had realized, though perhaps it only felt that way because he had spent the entire walk staring at your lifeless face. He felt numb by the time they arrived, hardly hearing Karlach shout for Shadowheart as they passed the first of the tents. In the back of his mind he was aware that their other companions had gathered around them frantically asking questions, but the words didn’t register and he continued forward without acknowledging any of them. He walked to his tent in a trance, gingerly setting you down on his bedroll and kneeling at your side as his shaking hands tried to arrange your limp body into a more comfortable configuration.

“What in the hells happened?” Shadowheart snapped as Karlach pulled her roughly into the tent. He should answer, should try to explain, but he was frozen kneeling by your side, unable to pull his attention away from your unblinking eyes.

“She- she was-” Karlach bit back a sob, trying to catch her breath. “We got caught off guard. She was alone. She shouldn’t have been alone,” Karlach choked out, dissolving into tears. Shadowheart hurried to your side and knelt across from Astarion, immediately beginning to unfasten the straps on your armor and peeling the bloodied metal away from your skin.

“We need to get her cleaned up so I can see what I'm doing. Astarion, can you fetch me some water and clean washcloths?” she asked, continuing to remove your ruined clothing. When he remained unmoving she looked up to where he sat, his gaze unwaveringly focused on the brutal cut across your torso. 

“Astarion,” she repeated softly, waiting as he slowly drug his gaze up to meet her eyes. “I swear to you I will do everything in my power to fix this, but I need your help.” She paused, waiting until Astarion gave a small nod of acknowledgement to rattle off the things she needed, her attention returning to your still form as Astarion rose and darted around his tent gathering what she had requested. He returned a heartbeat later, depositing the items at her side as she instructed him to wet a cloth and begin wiping away as much blood as he could. 

She began chanting a prayer as he worked, hovering her hands over your sternum while he continued to gently clean your skin. Your blood had been a gift once, a delight. Now he shuddered as he attempted to ring out the bloodied rag in his hand, barely fighting the urge to retch as it dripped from his hands into the reddened bowl of water at his side.

A light sparked in Shadowheart’s hands, warm and radiant, and Astarion stopped his work, dropping the stained cloth and gently reaching out with trembling fingers to take hold of your hand. The light in her palms grew as she focused, directing its power towards you. A glowing beam split from the whole and snaked downwards, weaving through the jagged edges of your wound and drawing them together while the remainder of the light floated upward, hovering over your heart. She continued chanting, her eyes drifting closed in concentration as the glowing orb started to lower, dimming as it sunk through your skin and into your chest. The room grew silent as Shadowheart completed the incantation and lowered her hands, looking you over carefully. 

“Did it… did it work?” Karlach whispered. “Is it supposed to take this long? Why isn’t she–”

Your chest rose as you gasped in air, the breath immediately turning to a cough at the uncomfortable stretch in your lungs. The air tasted of iron and magic and you frowned, trying to open your eyes to observe your surroundings but surprised to find your eyelids heavy and uncooperative. Cool fingers brushed against your face, smoothing away the furrow in your brow and you instinctively relaxed at the familiar touch. 

“All is well, darling,” you heard Astarion whisper, voice sounding oddly constricted. “Rest now.” 

You were still confused, still couldn't remember how you’d gotten here or what had happened. It felt as if something important had occurred, surely you shouldn’t sleep now. You heard the soft murmur of voices around you, a strained chuckle, a soft sniffle. You frowned again, struggling once more to open your eyes and earning an exasperated sigh from the vampire beside you. 

“Please, pet,” he breathed, lips ghosting over your skin as he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Just sleep.” 

Your sense of unease fell away as Astarion began gently running his fingers through your hair. You felt him press another soft kiss against your forehead and relaxed into him, allowing yourself to drift off in his arms.

———————

The second Shadowheart had given the all clear Astarion had insisted everyone leave his tent. It was far too crowded and he wouldn’t have them waking you up when you were clearly in no condition to face their fussing. Even as he anchored himself in the sound of your steady heartbeat he still felt restless and off-balance, hands flitting over your sleeping form looking for something more to do. 

He felt ridiculous. You were here in front of him, healed and whole, and that should be the end of it. So why in the hells were his hands still trembling as he ensured your blankets were tucked around you? Why did his chest ache uncomfortably every time he caught a leftover whiff of your blood in the air? 

He huffed out a frustrated breath and sat on the ground beside you, staring at your sleeping face warily. This had never been part of his plan. He was never supposed to… care. Two centuries of distancing himself and building walls and somehow you had just waltzed right past his defenses and made yourself at home. He let out a defeated sigh and reached over, extracting your hand from the blankets to weave your fingers together with his. His gaze drifted to the steady rise and fall of your breathing and he found himself matching your pace, the tightly wound coil in his chest finally starting to loosen as you let out a soft snore. 

Tomorrow, he decided. Tomorrow he could deal with figuring out why that sound made him smile. Tomorrow he could obsess over how even just holding your hand made his whole body feel warmer. Tomorrow he could deal with the fact that in over 200 years of life he’d never before been as completely and utterly terrified as he had been today. For now, though, he would indulge. For tonight he would just let himself have this, whatever ‘this’ was. He closed his eyes and lifted your hand to his face, gently brushing his lips across your knuckles as he settled in to watch over you until morning. 

———————

The passage of time in the Underdark still confused you. You woke to the same darkness you had fallen asleep in, groggily wondering what time it was and how long you had been in bed. Your mouth was dry and your head was pounding. Had you been drinking? That would certainly explain why you couldn’t remember how you had gotten here. As unappealing as getting up sounded, you were parched and you couldn’t stay here forever. You hoisted yourself up and froze as pain suddenly lanced through you, your vision flickering and arms giving out as you whimpered and fell back toward your pillow only to be caught by a pair of cold, pale arms. 

“I wouldn’t recommend moving just yet, darling,” Astarion said, looking down at you with a worried frown on his face as he lowered you gently back to the bedroll. “Shadowheart did as much as she could last night but it took a lot out of her to bring you back. You’re not going anywhere until she’s gotten a chance to check on you again.” He leaned across you, determinedly avoiding meeting your eyes as he made sure your pillow was adequately fluffed. You saw a slight tremor run through him and heard a catch in his breath before he stood abruptly and walked across the tent, silently pouring you a glass of water from the pitcher in the corner.

“Bring me… back?” you questioned. Astarion stilled, jaw clenching as you took him in. His normally flawlessly tousled hair was tangled as if he had been running his hands through it and streaks of blood threaded through the white locks. There were dark circles under his eyes and his skin looked even paler than normal, nearly translucent in the dim light. Your eyes flitted down to his wrinkled, untucked shirt and then around the tent, catching on the blood-soaked pile of clothes and armor to the side of the entrance and the red-stained towels laying by a bowl of water next to the bedroll. A dim memory flashed through your mind: a tree, an ambush, excruciating pain, and then… nothing. 

“Oh.” you whispered, exhaling shakily as you felt your chest constrict, breaths turning quick and shallow as the air seemed to thin. Astarion was by your side in an instant, one hand smoothing back your hair while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“It’s alright, darling, just breathe. You’re safe now.” he murmured, continuing to stroke your hair as your breathing calmed. He let out a tremulous sigh and closed his eyes, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. “It’s alright,” he repeated even more quietly, sounding almost as if he were talking to himself, pressing against you for a moment before inhaling sharply and pulling away.

“Shit, you’re in pain, aren’t you?” he said, looking you over with worried eyes and immediately moving to stand. “I’ll get Shadowheart, she said she’d come by when she woke but surely she’s had enough sleep by now and–” 

“Wait, Star, I… can you just stay here with me for a moment?” you asked in a small voice. Warmth spread through him at your request and he obliged immediately, lowering himself to sit at your side and gently taking your hand in his. You sat in companionable silence for a moment, studying his profile as he stared at your interlaced fingers. Up close the bags beneath his eyes were even more pronounced and you frowned, gently extricating your hand from his to touch his cheek. He leaned into your palm and placed a kiss against the inside of your wrist, eyes drifting closed as he basked in the warmth of your touch.

“Have you rested at all, Astarion?” you questioned. “You look exhausted.” 

He huffed a laugh and cracked open an eye to look at your face. 

“I’m not sure you want to get into comparing looks right now, darling. You’re even paler than me at the moment,” he chuckled, eyes closing once again as he leaned further into your touch, a teasing grin spread across his face. “I assure you, however you may think I look, you look ten times worse.” 

“Hm, that’s not too bad I suppose,” you smirked. “Ten times worse than you is still at least three times better than the average person.” 

Astartion barked out a surprised laugh and opened his eyes to look at you again, something in them softening as he saw your gentle smile. 

“Whoever would’ve thought math could be so romantic,” he murmured, leaning forward and placing a soft kiss against your lips. He raised a hand to brush a stray hair off your forehead and his smile faded, brow furrowing as his gaze met yours with uncharacteristic vulnerability. “Please don’t scare me like that again, my dear,” he breathed. “I’m- I don’t-” he sighed in frustration at the mess of emotions in his chest, hardly able to remember the last time his words had failed him so completely. 

“Don’t want to deal with this group of weirdos all by yourself?” you teased gently. He grinned back at you, gratitude in his eyes for not pushing him to collect his thoughts just yet. 

“Precisely that,” he chuckled, the tension leaving his shoulders. 

“Well I’m not going anywhere,” you said, smiling softly at him. “Also I wasn’t kidding before, you look like shit. You really should get some rest.” 

“Hm,” Astarion hummed mischievously, narrowing his eyes. “I would, but you see someone went and bled all over my bedroll. Adept though I may be at washing out blood stains it’s a rather thick fabric, it will take a while to dry back out. I may need to stay with… someone… for a day or two. Or three. Maybe more,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively as you huffed out a laugh. 

“You’re incorrigible,” you replied, grinning up at him and rolling your eyes. “I suppose it does seem that I’ve made rather a mess of your tent though…”

“You certainly have,” he murmured, shifting to hover over you, slowly kissing his way along your jaw.

“And it would only be fair to let you bunk with the cleanest person in camp…”

“Mmhmm…” he hummed, kissing closer and closer to your lips.

“And I’m sure Gale wouldn’t mind letting you crash with him–”

“Excuse me??” he crowed, pulling back indignantly as you burst out laughing below him. He scowled playfully and shook his head at you in feigned displeasure. “You wicked little thing,” he chuckled, leaning back down and finally pressing his lips to yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Whatever it is,” you smirked, pulling him back to you for another kiss, “I'm sure I'll like it.” 

[cxrdycxps]

Cat and Mouse • Joel Miller

Main Masterlist • Joel Miller Masterlist

☢️ sexual assault (past) • reader’s motto is gaslight gatekeep girlboss • cocky Joel (needs a warning) • slut Joel • smut • miscommunication ☢️

This was supposed to be one part. It got away from me. I have no regrets. Part two will be up tomorrowish

Joel had a nod. It was a respectful greeting he used for a very specific set of people. He used it exclusively to acknowledge women he had fucked. Tommy had lost count of the amount of women he offered the nod to.

How he was getting away with making his way through half the population of Jackson, Tommy would never know. His brother had given the nod to nearly every single woman of an acceptable age range in town.

“Are you gonna start again once you collect them all?” Tommy asked one evening. He was trying to share a drink with his brother but Joel was like a damn bobble head with all the nodding he was doing.

“Huh?” Joel asked and Tommy only sighed, shaking his head. He took a sip of the watered down whiskey and remembered a time it was him nodding his head at all the women in down town Austin. He had no idea how Joel was able to keep up now.

Tommy was happy to have Maria now, someone to come home to at the end of the day. Someone to share everything with. He could never go back to giving away parts of himself to different women every Friday night. It was made all the better by the fact that it was Maria who chose to love him for all his faults. He didn’t get complacent with her love, he worked for it every single day.

While Tommy was driven to distraction thinking of his wife Joel had found a new target. Tommy watched him lock eyes on you and shook his head, pulling his brother back down into his seat. “Not her.”

“Not her? Why not her?” Joel asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked back to you again and Tommy could see the allure. The tight jeans stole all the attention in the room, your laugh was like a sirens call. But Tommy couldn’t allow it.

“Not up for debate. You can fuck every single woman in town but her. She’s not an option. You’re not allowed.” Tommy didn’t explain his reasoning, only shook his head. Joel grinned at his brother and shook his hand off. “I’ll treat her real nice, promise.”

Tommy let him go. He thought it was personal, that you were a friend of Tommy’s or something. Tommy had never even gotten close and he wouldn’t dare to. You were the choice of most single men in Jackson and some not so single men. But Tommy had watched you chew every last one of them up and spit them all out.

You played with them like a bored barn cat and a field mouse. You let the run rings around you and just when they thought they’d won you deal the killing blow with one lazy swipe of a paw.

Tommy wanted to hate you. Maria had to deal with more than one bruised ego and tell them that no, embarrassing them and breaking up with them was not enough reason to kick you out of the commune.

The men knew better. You’d been doing it for the two years you’d been in Jackson, seeming to take sick pleasure in luring the men in and bringing them down a peg or two. Tommy could only thank the god above you never went near the married men or he knew there would be hell to pay from the possessive wives of Jackson.

You seemed to have some morals, atleast.

Well, that wasn’t exactly fair either. Tommy knew some of what happened to you before Jackson. How the men had treated you in your last camp. They had done much worse than a little embarrassment and ego checking.

Tommy watched you turn into the tap on your shoulder from Joel as he played the polite southern gentleman, just trying to squeeze by to get some drinks. You weren’t fooled, Tommy could tell, even if Joel couldn’t.

And so the game began.

///

“Pardon me, ma’am.” You looked over your shoulder to find Tommy Miller’s brother with an almost bashful look on his face, his hand retreating from where he had tapped your shoulder. “You mind if I squeeze in?”

You blinked at him before smiling demurely, moving a step back so he could reach the bar and gesture to Seth for a drink. You shared a look with Lou, your friend that you had been drinking with, over his shoulder and she shook her head with a laugh and turned away. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Well with good southern manners like that and a Texan twang you can’t be anyone other than Tommy’s-” You paused to look him up and down slowly. “Big brother?”

“You’re gonna tell me Tommy’s got manners?” Joel asked with a laugh, accepting his drink from Seth and leaning an elbow on the bar.

“Nah but I’m sure one of you had to have them.” You told him, smiling when he laughed. You were jostled from behind by someone heading for the bar and you pressed against Joel before backing away slowly. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart.” He was laying the accent on thick and you smiled at him, looking up from under your eyelashes. You rested one hand on his arm for balance when you were jostled again. “I don’t think we got a proper introduction. I’m Joel, Joel Miller.”

You gave him your name and stepped back to extend your hand to him. He shook it slowly before lifting it and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. You laughed in delight. “Oh you really are a gentleman. I thought those were extinct.”

“Endangered maybe, I don’t know about extinct.” He still held your hand, his thumb smoothing over your skin. You blinked slowly at him when a particularly rough jostle shoved you into his chest. His arm wrapped around your waist to steady you and you apologized when you caught yourself with both hands on his chest. “You wanna watch where you’re going, buddy?”

You turned in Joel’s embrace, his arm still tight around you, to find Nolan. You fought a wince knowing that this game could be over before it started if he decided to run his mouth. “It’s fine Joel.”

“It ain’t fine, he can apologize.” Joel insisted and you couldn’t quite tamp down the wince this time when Nolan looked up at you. “Right now.”

“She ain’t worth the breath of an apology.” Nolan scoffed and you bit back a laugh. You had really hurt his feelings and you hadn’t even been trying, not really. “Dirty whore.”

“Now I know you ain’t-” Joel’s chest swelled as he started to defend you and you let your laugh loose.

“Nolan, sweetie. I’m sorry that you and I didn’t work out but it ain’t my fault and I ain’t no whore.” You reminded him, your voice gentle. “I think you just had too much to drink.”

Nolan stared at you for a second, his jaw tense before he looked over your shoulder. “Yeah, that’s it. Sorry about that.”

A low whistle reminded you that you were still in Joel’s grip. He let you go when you twisted back to look at him and found his impressed smile. “Solved that a lot tamer than I woulda.” Joel told you honestly.

“Awh Nolan doesn’t mean any harm.” You told Joel and looked over your shoulder to find the man with his back to you. “Being truthful? Me and Nolan used to date. It’s hard when it doesn’t work out. Jackson is so small.”

“Yeah, I hear ya. Always bumpin’ into each other after the fact. Can’t be easy.” Joel allowed and you nodded, a small smile on your lips.

“You sound familiar with the feeling but I was under the impression that you don’t date.” You stole his glass to sip at his drink and he raised his eyebrows both at your comment and your cheek. “We women talk, Mr Miller.”

“Well, like you said. It gets messy. And I don’t like mess.” He admitted, waving at Seth for another drink. You smiled and tipped your head back, finishing his drink.

“I quite like messy.” You told him, catching Lou’s eye where she was lingering off to the side. “Pity you don’t. Cause I don’t do one night stands. Nice talking to you, Joel.”

“Wait, what?” Joel asked when you grabbed your purse from the bar stool. He looked from the empty glass you placed on the bar to your back as you walked away, arm linked with Lou.

Seth rested Joel’s drink on the counter and he took it, ignoring the chuckling bar man. He found his seat beside Tommy again and watched his brother try to hide his smile. “Count yourself lucky. That’s easier than the other men get off.”

“That’s the problem, Tommy.” Joel finished his drink in one swallow. “There wasn’t any getting off. But I’ll change that. She’s sweet, real sweet.”

“She’s gonna chew you up and spit you out, big brother.” Tommy assured him with a laugh. “But someone’s gotta bring you down a peg.”

///

You heard him before you saw him. The thin walls of the greenhouses held no secrets. A fact that a lot of people forgot when they wanted to go gossiping.

Joel Miller wasn’t gossiping though. He was looking for you, asking Betty where you might be found. He had gone as far to check up on your rotation to find you today. That seemed like someone who would play your game.

You didn’t look up when Betty sent him in your direction, picking the strawberries carefully. You were splitting them between baskets, trying to be fair with the size and number distributions. He paused on the threshold but you only hummed under your breath, turning away to grab several more baskets to fill. He cleared his throat and you made yourself jump a little, spinning around to face him.

“My God, Joel.” You huffed, a hand on your chest. He was grinning at you, proud to have caught you unaware. “I was in a world of my own. Make a little noise next time.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, sweetheart.” He leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re not an easy woman to track down.”

“Is that so?” You asked him, turning to face him. You leaned back against the work bench, your hands behind your back. “What’s got you tracking me?”

“Can’t a man be neighborly?” He asked, an eyebrow raised and you laughed. He straightened up from the door way and you were in awe of his size, how his broad shoulders filled the space. “Making sure you’re doing alright after putting Nolan in his place the other night?”

“I ain’t worried about Nolan and we ain’t neighbors, Mr Miller.” You reminded him and he looked slightly abashed to have been called out so thoroughly. You wanted to cup his red cheeks and coo at his embarrassment. A big man like Joel, he’d hate that he liked you doing it too.

“If a man was looking to get a little messy, how’d he go about it?” Joel asked and you smiled brightly as his forwardness. “Asking for a friend, of course.”

“Oh well, you can tell your friend that I got a three date rule.” You told Joel, turning back to pick your strawberries. “I like to be wined and dined, not rushed out the back door the following morning.”

“And if he’s got a kid that can’t know. Can that wining and dining be discreet?” Joel asked and you shrugged, turning with a basket of strawberries in your hand.

“If your friend wants to come and cook me dinner in my home, away from prying eyes, I wouldn’t complain.” You told him, holding the strawberries out to him. “For your friend.”

“I’ll be sure to pass all’a that on to him.” Joel tipped his head at you, that infuriating nod he gave all the other women in town.

“Don’t nod at me like that. I ain’t a sure thing and I ain’t your conquest.” You huffed, annoyed you had already given him the strawberries. “You can tell your friend he better try harder than you do.”

“Yes ma’am.” Joel sounded properly chastised but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking up at him when he left with a muttered thanks for the strawberries.

You released a breath and smiled to yourself as you finished with the strawberries. He was such an adorable man for the sheer size of him. So quick to apologize when he was in the wrong too. It was endearing.

///

“Fancy seeing you here.” Joel looked up from the basket of blueberries he was examining closely. “Those blueberries hurt your feelings or somethin’?”

“Ellie doesn’t like them too soft.” He explained and you stepped closer to him, looking over the baskets of berries. You selected one and passed it to him. “Thank you.”

“I know how she feels. It’s kind of gross when they turn to mush.” You admitted, lifting a bundle of wild garlic and checking each leaf. “Friday evening. I finish work at seven, by the way.”

“Seven?” Joel asked, his interest moving from the open collar of your blouse to your face. He didn’t look embarrassed to be caught looking.

“If your friend is still looking to get messy.” You prompted and he blinked, nodding his head slowly. You reached for a red bell pepper and turned it over in your hand. “I mean, if he’s up for it.”

“Up for it?” Joel asked, reaching over you to pick a bell pepper of his own. He didn’t bother examining it, tossing it into his basket. You sighed and pulled it back out, tilting it over to show him where it had gone soft.

“Some men aren’t up to the challenge of having to actually get to know someone. Especially when there’s no promise, or even chance, of sex at the end of the night.” You explained while picking a separate pepper and handing it to him. He copied your inspection this time before placing it in his basket.

“I can hold a conversation. Just because I only usually spend one night, doesn’t mean it ain’t a damn good night. You won’t be the first woman I’ve wined and dined.” Joel huffed and you raised your eyebrows.

“You really know how to make a girl feel special.” You huffed, turning on your heel. You checked in with the stall owner and let them check off the food you were taking, ignoring Joel’s attempt to get your attention. The market was too crowded for him to navigate it as quickly as you had.

Joel was left staring after you feeling wrong footed again. He wasn’t sure how he managed to always mess it up with you. Saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, doing the wrong thing when things were going so good.

He sighed and returned to the stalls, looking over the produce in search of something inspirational enough for dinner with you on Friday. If he was even welcome at this point.

Joel didn’t avoid dating for the mess if it ended badly. He didn’t date cause he hadn’t dated anyone since he was sixteen. Fucking was easy. Dating was complicated.

He stared at the uninspired fruit and vegetables and shook his head, turning on his heel and leaving that decision for later in the week.

///

“Come now,” Tommy sighed, leaning back on your porch with a glass of lemonade in hand. He was regretting agreeing to be on landscaping duty this summer. He was getting too damn old for that old push lawnmower. “He’s not a bad guy. You could just cancel on him.”

“I ain’t cancelling on him.” You shook your head and Tommy sighed. “It ain’t really any of your business either. Joel and I are both consenting adults.”

“He doesn’t know what you’re like.” Tommy sighed and you blinked at him. He didn’t know you well enough for the way he was talking to you.

“What I’m like?” You asked, standing up from the porch swing. Tommy looked up from his spot on the porch steps. “Tell me, Tommy Miller, what am I like?”

“You treat it like a game.” Tommy sighed. You wondered if he was brave or just stupid. “You chew men up and spit ‘em out. You don’t care about hurtin’ them.”

Tommy was leaned with his head back, eyes closed to block out the sun. Like an idiot, he fell for the same complacent safety that everyone in Jackson did. You hadn’t quite gotten that lazy yet and so you could see Joel approach.

“God, Tommy.” You sighed, arms wrapped around yourself. You had yourself twisted away from the direction Joel was approaching from. “I didn’t realize you bought into all the rumors. I’m sorry, I’ll call it off with Joel if you want. I just wanted to get to know him.”

“You got no idea the things the men in this town say. I know it all.” Tommy sighed. “Just leave Joel out of it.”

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, mouth downturned. “He was nice to me, ain’t too many men been nice to me in my life. He was safe. He stood up to Nolan when he called me a whore the other day. No one ever stood up for me before.”

Tommy looked up when your voice turned thick, suspicious eyes cracked at you. Joel cleared his throat and Tommy knew instantly. You had to give it to Tommy, you liked him. He was loyal to his wife and he took no bullshit from anyone. But he wasn’t going to get in your way.

“Joel!” You put as much surprise into your voice as you could without over playing your part. “We gotta put a bell on you or somethin’.”

“Joel-” Tommy tried but his brother only shook his head, not listening.

“Listen Joel, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can have dinner on Friday.” You padded down the porch steps. You hadn’t put on actual clothes yet, enjoying a rare day off to lounge around in shorts and a camisole. You knew it was working in your favor when Joel smiled gently at you.

“You ain’t cancelling on me cause my brother is an idiot. I’m a big boy, I make my own decisions. I’ll be here Friday and you’ll eat dinner with me.” Joel insisted and you looked back at Tommy who had his jaw clenched.

“I don’t wanna cause any trouble.” You insisted, blinking up at Joel. He only shook his head, raising his hand to tuck some of your hair back. “Honestly Joel, Tommy is right. I got a bit of a reputation with the men in town. I don’t know why I can’t get it right.”

“Let me worry about Tommy.” Joel promised, a dark glance in the direction of his brother. “It’s just dinner, Sweetheart. I ain’t proposing.”

“If you’re sure? I’ll understand if you-”

“Aht. None of that. I’ll be here, with bells on if that’s what you want. Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna have some words with that brother of mine.” Joel leaned forward and kissed your cheek softly. You smiled up at him and had to shake yourself from the distraction of how gentle his lips felt against you.

“I’m working.” Tommy was sat up on the porch now, eyes narrowed at you both. You fought the urge to smirk at him, you didn’t actually want to come between the Miller men. “Got lawns to mow.”

“I’ll keep you company. Make sure you ain’t running your mouth.” You turned back to Joel with a small smile.

“You want some lemonade?” You asked him softly and he smiled down at you, nodding.

“Honey, if it’s you offerin’ I’d probably accept puddle water.” You laughed lightly, heading back for the porch where one very grouchy Tommy Miller was sitting. He narrowed his eyes at you while you passed him and only looked away when Joel cleared his throat.

You paused once you were out of sight and listened to the pair of brothers grumbling at each other.

“You mind your goddamn business. I’m a grown man, I think I’d know if I was being manipulated.” Joel snapped at Tommy who only sighed.

“You got no idea.”

///

“I gotta admit, I’m impressed.” You were sitting on the counter by your oven, watching Joel cook. Your bare heels were kicking off the cupboard doors under the counter, giving a rhythmic background noise to join the sound of bubbling from the pots. “Kind of expected you to be a microwave man.”

“I can be.” He admitted with a laugh and you smiled, staring down at the stir fry he had chosen to cook for you. He claimed it covered all the bases; light enough for the summer heat, filling if you were a vegetarian, and easy enough that getting distracted by talking to you wouldn’t ruin the meal. “Most nights I’ll have a baked potato done in the microwave.”

You wrinkled your nose at him but he only shrugged at you. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“I’m gonna knock it. I don’t need to try it.” You laughed and hopped off the counter, heading for your drink cabinet. “Whiskey?”

“Mm, no. Check my bag there, brought you a little somethin’.” You smiled at him before ducking into the hallway where he had left his bag. Opening the zip and exposing the contents had you calling Joel’s name in delight.

You carried the bottles back into the kitchen and held them up. Joel laughed at your giddy smile when you placed one bottle down and moved to open the other one. “Where’d you find actual wine?”

“We had a patrol a couple of weeks ago into a new town. Found a couple of them.” He told you, watching as you swapped the whiskey glasses for wine ones.

“Would you like a glass now?” You offered and he nodded with a smile when you carried one over to him. “You really took me seriously.”

“Wined and dined, Sweetheart. I’m a man of my word.” You took your place alongside him again and watched him check that the noodles were cooked. He’d had to trade a day of labour in the stables for the noodles. He really had pulled out all the stops.

“Color me impressed.” You sipped at your wine and nudged his hip with your knee. “I should’ve never doubted your skills.”

“Ah, I owe you an apology for that. I ain’t treating you how I treat other women. I know this isn’t just one night.” Joel promised and you smiled softly. “I keep putting my foot in my mouth around you. Can’t think straight when it comes to you, I guess.”

“Charmer.” You rolled your eyes and hopped off the counter again. You stole both wine glasses and placed them on the table, bringing Joel the plates so he could serve up dinner.

You had set either side of the small dining room table but Joel only shook his head, moving his place setting so he was sitting at your right hand side, closer than you had put him. “How are we supposed to get to know each other from that far away?”

“It’s like a foot and a half?” You asked, eyebrows raised. He only shook his head again, settling himself in and taking a sip of his wine. You couldn’t help but laugh at him.

You hadn’t actually thought about the conversation during dinner and you had the sudden thought that it could be awkward. Joel didn’t share those sentiments, talking away about anything that entered his mind.

He was funny, which was surprising. Being hot and having a personality was a rare deal when it came to the men of Jackson. Everything about Joel surprised you. He kept your glass topped up and even washed the dishes when you both finished with the meal.

You found yourself checked up at the end of your sofa, facing Joel who was telling you about running into a giraffe living wild in Salt Lake City. You couldn’t believe him, expressing your jealousy.

“It was kind of surreal like everything I’ve seen in the last twenty five years and a giraffe is what seems the most unrealistic?” Joel laughed. You shifted against the couch cushion with a laugh and the wine in your glass spilled out and splashed your top making you gasp at the cool of it.

“Shit, sorry.” You leaned forward, pulling the fabric away from your chest and Joel held a hand out, taking your glass from you. “Gimme a second.”

You hurried up to your room, swapping your blouse for another. At the last second you paused in your doorway and swapped your blouse for a thin camisole. Another pause had you unhooking your bra and tossing it in the direction of your hamper. You admired yourself for a moment in the mirror before heading back to Joel.

He held your wine glass out to you with a gentle smile. You took the middle sofa cushion this time, moving you closer to Joel who let his eyes dip down just barely. “I’ve always been clumsy.”

“Is that right?” He asked and you nodded, finishing your glass of wine in one final swallow. “Maybe I should head out.”

“You could.” You nodded, placing your glass on your coffee table. “In fact you probably should. But I don’t want you to.”

“What do you want?” Joel asked you softly when you straightened up, inches between your faces. He was holding himself back, you could see it. Any of those other women he would’ve already pinned to the sofa and fucked them until they screamed.

“I don’t do this. I don’t do one nights.” You whispered quietly. His jaw clenched and you swallowed nervously. “It makes me feel cheap and dirty to be used like that and wake up alone in the morning.”

“What do you want? Do you want me to leave now? Because I’ll go, Sweetheart.” He promised you softly. “If you want me to stay and be here when you wake up tomorrow then I will. And I’ll come back for dinner too.”

“Awful presumptuous, Mr Miller.” You laughed, fingers twisting together in an attempt to gather your courage. “Stay?”

“Set the pace.” He whispered and his breath fanned against your lips. Your hand moved up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him closer, your lips pressing to his.

You pressed against him, shifting so that you were straddling his lap, your tongue pressing into his mouth. He pulled you to grind against him, his big hands on your hips. You couldn’t help but moaning his name against his mouth. “Feel’s so good.”

“Tell me what you want.” He groaned when you shifted in his lap, rubbing right up against him.

“Take me to bed, Joel.”

///

You groaned against you pillow and squinted against the morning sun. You hadn’t bothered to pull your curtains last night, what with Joel fucking you into the mattress and all.

The man in question was wrapped around you from behind, still asleep it seemed. Well, most of him was asleep. He was making small aborted moves with his hips, rubbing up against the small of your back.

You shifted against him, turning in his grip to tap at his cheek gently. He shook his head and burrowed into your neck before freezing. You ran your fingers through his hair and scratched at his scalp. “Morning.”

He grunted something that sounded like a good morning and you slid your hand down between you both, circling him in your hand. He pulled his head back and blinked at you. “I think I might a little too sore for round two. But if this is okay?”

“More’n okay. You don’t need to though.” Joel promised and you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek, pumping your hand. The little movements he had been making had been enough to have his tip wet. You paused to lick the palm of your hand and resumed your movements. Joel groaned, head tipped back and tendons in his neck straining. “So fucking good.”

You wrapped one leg up on his hip and every time he bucked into your hand he pressed between your legs. You had no desire to let him push inside of you again but you couldn’t help the small moans Everytime he pushed through your wet slit, the head of his cock was kissing your clit.

He took control of the speed, deliberately moving so that you felt each slide of his cock, his own hand closing over yours and tightening your grip. “So wet for me, Sweetheart. Gotta treat that pussy good after all the abuse I gave it last night.”

You whined against his neck, your breath coming faster. He was hitting against you perfectly and you couldn’t remember ever feeling this good with another person before. Your free hand pressed against Joel’s chest, nails digging into his chest. “Fucking, right there, please. Please.”

“Cum for me. Come on. Cum for me.” Joel demanded and you wanted to scoff at him, the same words coming from the mouth of every man you slept with. But Joel wasn’t every man. Joel was better. You shuddered against him as your orgasm hit, your hand falling away from his cock. He took over, pumping himself through his own orgasm which splashed against your stomach.

“Fuck.” You pulled away from Joel, the heat and sweat making you grimace. You collapsed onto your back and he did the same, chest raising and falling quickly. “Good morning is right.”

“A very good morning.” He agreed with a grunt. You couldn’t help the giggles, pushing yourself out of the bed. “Where’re you going?”

“To shower while you’re making that breakfast you promised me.” You reminded him and his brow furrowed.

“I didn’t promise breakfast. In fact it’s time you make a meal.” Joel teased with a grin and you shook your head, pulling on your robe.

“You promised last night. I asked if you’d really stay the night and you said you’d make breakfast.” You reminded him and he scrunched up his face in an effort to remember and you smiled at him, leaning against your dresser.

He looked immaculate in the morning, so big and broad. His chest was covered in hair that tapered down to a trail on his stomach. He looked up and you laughed.

“You were right about to fuck me? Less than an inch away and I asked you if you would definitely be there when I woke.” You reminded him and he nodded.

“Ah yes, I would’ve promised anything to get into your pussy at that point.” He laughed and you froze in place, your smile slipping from your lips. You pulled your robe tighter around yourself and swallowed.

“Is that right?” You asked, your voice cold. “Anything to get your way, huh?”

He paused, arching his neck up to look at you again. At your expression he pushed up on his elbows and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Not like that. I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”

“I’d like you to leave. Now.” You knew what was happening. He had agreed to play the game but now he was changing the rules.

He scrambled up on the bed and got tangled in the blankets. A knock on your front door had him freezing in place. You paused too, wondering who in their right mind was at your door at this hour on a Saturday. You stared at Joel for a second before tying your robe and hurrying down the stairs.

The door swung open to find Ellie who appraised you, eyebrows raised. “Tommy said Joel would be here. I need him.”

“You can have him.” You promised her, turning to find Joel on the stairs, buttoning his shirt. “You’re needed.”

“Yeah, I heard. ” Joel said, his voice angry. Ellie looked between you both and shrugged.

“You didn’t come home. There’s a leak in the bathroom. Tommy said I’d find you here.” She explained and Joel looked at you and away again. Tommy had done enough home improvement for you to know one thing.

“Oh my god.” You looked between Ellie and Joel and felt physically sick. “You organized a bail out if you stayed the night.”

“It’s not with it looks like.” Joel promised and you scoffed, tossing his bag at him from the hallway floor.

“Get the fuck out of here. And don’t bother coming back.”

[koqabear]

Like Cat and Mouse!

☆ Playlist! ☆

"You seemed to have garnered quite the reputation for you on campus— one that had the word “trouble” following you like a shadow. But when you give Beomgyu an offer he couldn’t possibly turn down in exchange for helping you get your grades back up, how could he refuse? You can’t possibly be that hard to handle, right?"

Beomgyu x fem!reader, ft. Hueningkai

Genre: college au, slowburn (kinda..?), tutor!gyu x rich girl!mc, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 37.1K

Warnings: mc is a bitch, and maybe a bimbo? gyu wears glasses, and he’s like super super shy, mc gets sick for a scene, she rambles but its part of her character ok!, toxic relationships, pining/unrequited love, Yunjin is so fake here im sorry Yunjin, mentions of alcohol/drinking, the puppy gyu agenda is fucking strong here !!!

Smut warnings: multiple smut scenes first of all, fwb!huening, dom!hyuka, switch!mc, sub!gyu, (the worst case of sub gyu yet), virgin!gyu, breast play, dry humping, biting, pet names (f rec: princess, m rec: puppy, good boy, baby, slut, etc.)  mentions of bondage (f. rec.), spanking (f. rec.), degrading, praise, praise kink, finger sucking, oral (f. & m rec.), handjobs, mouth fucking, cum eating (?), explicit, verbal consent is not stated in two scenes but both parties are willing! Semi-public sex, overstimulation, slight thigh riding, marking, hair pulling (m. rec. lol), begging, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, cockwarming

notes: i don't even know what to say... there's really no reason for this to be so long, how did we get here. i hide my face in shame.

It all starts as an accident— a very inconvenient accident.

Really, it wasn’t your fault; how were you supposed to keep up with these endless assignments that only seemed to get worse as time went on? You had better things to do with your life— studying is way too much of a headache for you these days. 

Instead, your days have been filled along the lines of parties and trips your friends hold, gaining connections with people that always help things go next level; Empty vacation homes, yachts, even a private jet once— you were lucky enough to land a friendship with these type of people, the thought of taking things slow and worrying more about your education not crossing your mind anymore once you got a taste of the fast life. 

Which is exactly how you got where you are now. 

“There goes your man,” Yunjin’s elbow is sharp against your side as she whispers teasingly, the jab only making your frown deepen as you weakly attempt to shake her off. 

“Shut up.” That’s all you can manage as you go to lay your head down on the dining hall table, your appetite long gone as your head swims and your stomach twists with nausea; her single jab is enough to remind your body of its terrible shape, your eyes shutting tightly as you fight through the urge to hurl then and there. 

You’re not even sure of what she might mean— you don’t remember telling her about any recent hookups— hell, you don’t even remember gawking at anyone in your vicinity; so for her to be teasing you about this “man” of yours was strange, a pout forming on your lips as you try to focus on the cool feeling of the wood beneath your skin.

“I gotta go,” Yunjin says abruptly, your eyes opening to send her a confused look. All she can do is give you an eager smile, patting your head as she grabs her now empty coffee cup from the table. “Your man is coming this way.”

Before you can ask her what man she could possibly be talking about, she’s off, not bothering to look back as she sends you a little wave over her shoulder, perfectly manicured nails glittering under the sunlight that shines through the windows. 

The seat in front of yours is quickly filled. 

“You weren’t at our study session yesterday.”

Jesus. 

There’s not much you can say to that, clearly guilty as you choose to press your forehead against the cool table in response. Maybe, if you close your eyes, he’ll disappear— if only it were that easy. But instead, you’re stuck with Choi Beomgyu and the warm scent of coffee that follows him— god knows how many cups he drank as a substitution for sleep. Your lashes flutter against the table as you attempt to drown out his whines, surprised that he hasn't taken your unresponsiveness as a hint to go away.

“Have you ever gone to Paris?” You ask, the sentence flying from your mouth and interrupting his rambles. It’s enough to shut him up, sitting up as you plant your hands firmly on the table in a weak attempt to not lay your head back down.

“No, I haven’t.”

His response is typical— you didn’t care whether or not he would say yes, leaning into the table as you stare into his eyes; it’s clear he’s flustered by the action, leaning back in reciprocation as his pupils land everywhere but on you. 

“If you had the chance to go to Paris right now, would you?” It takes a moment before Beomgyu nods his head hesitantly, mouth opening as he prepares a new line of questioning for you. But you’re quick to cut him off again, clapping your hands in satisfaction as you stand up— his eyes follow your every movement, face resembling a lost puppy as he watches the way you get ready to leave.

“Exactly; Paris really is beautiful by the way, definitely recommend going. So you can’t blame me for ditching our study session yesterday, can you?” Tilting your head, you watch the puzzles connect in his mind. “We can always make it up or whatever, not that big of a deal.”

Turning around, you don’t bother saying goodbye to Beomgyu; your only thoughts center on your beautiful, comfy bed and how you’ll spend the rest of your day in it. You can hear him calling out to you, the sound of a chair scraping against tile catching your attention as you force yourself to walk faster. 

“We have class in fifteen minutes— where are you going?!”

He’s gaining up on you. You don’t care if you have to sprint out of the building, but the last thing you’ll do is get stuck in another of Beomgyu’s self-righteous rambles as you curse wildly under your breath. 

“Home— I’m sick!” 

Carelessly, the exit door is slammed on Beomgyu’s face— by accident, of course. Glancing back, you’re able to catch a glimpse of his pathetic puppy face, clearly discouraged from trying to continue chasing after you. 

Normally, one would be compelled to feel guilty— but the day is simply too nice, the weather so perfect as a spring wind brushes past your skin; the sun that slightly worsens your headache truly doesn’t seem that bad anymore. 

A perfect day to drive around and shop, in your humble opinion. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 

This new purse would be divine in your collection. 

The luxury bag in your hands is sleek and smooth as your fingertips glaze over the details, entranced by its chic beauty as you let your thoughts wander— formal events, birthday dinners, oh, the places you could take it…

The price tag is no joke— it has you counting numbers in your head, pondering just how much of your monthly allowance you have left; if you buy it now, you’ll have to say goodbye to the girls’ trip at Yunjin’s beach house in Cancun…

Treat yourself, a tiny voice whispers in your mind, you can always beg your parents for more money. 

The devil on your shoulder is compelling— it warps your vision, a pout forming on your face as it practically forces your eyes to see the item in a heavenly light; the last item in that specific collection, and it’s right at your disposal, only a card swipe away…

“Pretty bag,” your little devil hums, “It would look nice with that little black dress you’re always looking for an excuse to wear.” 

His hand is delicate and teasing on your shoulder, his hold on you tight as he pulls you into him protectively. You’re not as surprised as you should be as you look up at Hueningkai, pouting face innocently looking up at him as you shake your head in distress. 

“I shouldn’t. I’m supposed to go with Yunjin to Cancun during spring break,” you whine, petulant as always as you refuse his reasoning— yet also refuse to let go of the bag and walk away. 

Anyone who knows you knows how you get about accessories— how obsessive you become with collecting them, your closet always filled to the brim as your need to buy becomes a borderline addiction. 

Maybe that’s why Hueningkai finds your dilemma so amusing, deft fingers snatching the purse from your hands and walking away wordlessly, leaving you to trot behind him as you continue to rant and stall, lingering by his side as a new item catches your eye; you inspect it curiously while the words uncontrollably fly out of your mouth. 

“I mean it’s not like I don’t have enough money, cause I could always ask my parents for more— and they’d gladly give it to me— but I always feel so horrible to ask for more, especially now that I’m supposed to be getting more independent, even though they always talk about spoiling me because I’m their only daughter, but still, I really want it but if I buy it I’ll have to ask them for more money, and it’s not even a big deal but it feels—“

“Oh my god, okay!” It seems you were too distracted by the tweed Chanel bag in your hands to anticipate the shopping bag that Hueningkai thrusts into your hands, exasperated at your ramblings as he swiftly manages to shut you up. 

You’re left speechless, sorting through the filling paper dumbly as you’re greeted with the same bag that Hueningkai snatched from you— your sparkly eyes look up at him in awe, unsure of what to say as he simply smiles at your reaction. 

“Huening…” you pout, clutching the bag to your chest with one hand as you slap his chest with the other— his very firm, strong chest… “you shouldn’t have.”

He’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you into him and guiding you out of the store as he leans into you; you can smell his cologne so perfectly, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers softly into it.

“It’s okay,” he smiles, endeared by the way your eyes shine with anticipation to his words, “I know of a few ways you can make it up to me.” 

There’s no need to call your driver— Hueningkai knows the way to your apartment like the back of his hand, one relaxed at the steering wheel while the other plays with the hem of those skirts you always like to wear.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

“You’re such a tease,” Hueningkai’s lips are plump and bitten at as you smile against them, his hands never straying from your ass as he grasps at it, enjoying the way you grind against him expertly.

“Just wanna make you feel good,” you pant, the warm feeling of his hands on your tight-clad thighs making you whine, your pussy slotted perfectly against him as you feel the way he grows harder underneath you.

“You’re always so good to me…” you trail off the moment his lips begin to wander down your neck, attempting to pull off your thin sweater as his hands immediately find themselves on your breasts. He can only let out a breathy laugh at your words, his teeth sinking in the plump flesh softly before his fingers are working your bra off. 

“Always buying you your favorite things?” He rasps, groaning softly at the sight of your breasts, fingers playing with your nipples as he looks up at you teasingly, “my princess will do anything for a pretty purse, hmm?” 

Frantically, you nod, his hips bucking into you as you feel the way his cock presses against you effortlessly; he’s as eager as you are, warm tongue on your skin making your thoughts run wild as you imagine what it would feel like to have him pressed against your cunt, helpless to your needs as your fingers card through his hair.

“Come on pretty girl, show me how grateful you are,” your thoughts are immediately dispelled as Hueningkai pushes you off, a gentle hand pushing away your hair before he’s guiding you down to your knees; his favorite sight, your doe eyes fluttering at him innocently as your hands make quick work of his belt. He can’t help but groan at the sight before him, lip caught in his teeth as he silently wishes for you to hurry. 

Hueningkai takes the belt from your hands, placing it to the side as he smiles down at you coyly— you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation, your mind going back to the many memories of your face pressed into the mattress as your bound hands desperately begged to touch him. Your fingers are delicate as they pull down his zipper— he’s become impatient, lips parting as he gets ready to make a witty comment. 

His thoughts are interrupted by a persistent ringing of your doorbell. 

He’s devastated as he flops back into your mattress— a loud groan escapes him, brows furrowing as he grows irritated at the ringing that echoes throughout your apartment. 

“Jesus, what the fuck is their problem?” He complains, running a hand through his hair before he sits back up; he’s smiling fondly at you as he caresses your cheek, sighing softly as he nods his head towards the door, “go see who it is, won’t you princess? Make it quick.” 

The look that you two share is nothing but mischievous, his lips connecting with yours in a chaste kiss as he helps you up; he’s tugging your sweater roughly over your chest, straightening your skirt before he’s sending you off— not without one last feel of you, the stinging sensation that lingers on your ass making you yelp as you send him a playful glare— he can only send you a sly look in return. 

This better be important, you can’t help but think, sighing heavily as another three persistent rings of your doorbell echo throughout— you groan, rolling your eyes as you swing the door open wildly.

You can’t say you’re surprised as Beomgyu stares back at you in shock, his wide eyes blinking rapidly as he takes you in.

“What.” Your tone is unwelcoming as you lean against your doorframe, arms crossing to cover your chest as you raise a brow at him in anticipation— he stutters uselessly, pushing up his glasses as his eyes fly about your apartment wildly— refusing to look at you for more than a second. 

“You didn’t answer my messages,” or calls, he whispers weakly, tugging at the hem of his sweater as he stares down at his dirtied shoes, his other arm hidden behind his back. He clears his throat, gulping as he looks into your eyes, pushing past the annoyed look that greets him as he continues, “You didn’t look well this morning, so I wanted to check up on you.”

You’re not sure what to say as Beomgyu whips out what was hidden behind his back—you’re leaning back as you stare at the cute, floral lunch bag that Beomgyu thrusts into your face, hesitantly taking it as you look back at Beomgyu in confusion; it feels warm in your arms.

“It’s soup.” He says, his ears reddening as he takes in the bewildered way you’re staring at him, “It’s my mom's recipe, it’s— it’s really good.”

“Yeah? We’ll be the judge of that,” Hueningkai has snuck up behind you as he wraps an arm around your waist, effectively pushing you back against him— you can feel how hard he is against the swell of your ass, eyes widening as you get what he’s hinting at, impatient fingers digging into your skin softly. 

Beomgyu seems just as surprised as you are at Hueningkai’s appearance, if not more. It becomes your turn to become embarrassed as you look over your shoulder to meet Hueningkai’s smug smile, his eyes glistening with curiosity as he looks back at Beomgyu, tilting his head as he frowns.

“Who are you anyway?” 

Beomgyu seems quite offended by his statement, looking at you in shock. You’re scrambling to cut Hueningkai off, letting out a soft laugh as you place a firm hand on his chest— the last thing you need is for Hueningkai to drive away one of the few people that would be willing to tutor you. 

“He’s just helping me out in some classes, that’s all,” you say, placing the lunch bag in his hands before you’re shooing him away, “Put this on the kitchen counter— I’ll see you in a bit.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t miss the look the two of you share— if anything, it makes his stomach twist in embarrassment, wanting to do nothing more than turn around and pretend as though he hadn’t interrupted you while you were— whatever it was. Hueningkai is cheery as he walks back into your apartment, not bothering to spare Beomgyu another glance as he disappears from your sight; your clearing throat is what gets Beomgyu’s mind back on track. 

“Right. Well,” you say, smiling awkwardly as you reach out for the door, “I’m feeling better. Thanks though!” 

Beomgyu is unable to get out another word as you’re closing the door on him, sneaking in a last comment as you cheerily yell “tell your mom I said thank you!” Uncaring of his reaction as the door shuts in his face; he suddenly thinks back to this morning, shuddering at the memory of him having to walk back to the other exit of the dining hall, towards the building his classes were in— your shared class, specifically— forced to ignore the strange looks everyone gave him as he stared straight at the ground. 

“Isn’t he younger than us? Why was he talking to me like that,” he quietly pouts, his protests left unheard as he’s forced to walk back home, eyes glued to the sidewalk in dismay— the feeling is dreadfully familiar.

“Well that’s sad,” Hueningkai remarks, peeking through your blinds as he watches Beomgyu’s figure grow smaller, “Are you actually gonna eat that?”

His eyes flick back to the lunch bag that sits innocently at your counter—you simply shrug, feeling oddly protective of the item as you tuck it behind you, leaning against the counter as you sigh softly.

“His mom made it, I’d feel bad if I didn’t,” you say, biting at your lips as you watch the way Hueningkai laughs in disbelief. You feel a bit bad as you think back to the way you turned him away, his expression pitiful and sad as you slammed the door on his face for the second time today. Yet you don’t get much time to think about it as Hueningkai begins to approach you, hands effortlessly finding themselves on your waist as your head tilts to meet his lips in a sweet, slow kiss. 

“Can’t believe he interrupted us for so long,” you feel him smile against your lips as he presses you back against the counter, ready to hike your skirt up as his other hand is eagerly wrapping your leg around his waist, “will you make it up to me?”

Beomgyu disappears from your mind like smoke— the smile against your lips is contagious, your hand gently pressing against his chest as you roll your hips teasingly into his, a broken moan falling from both your lips. 

“Of course.“

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

The rest of the day is quite underwhelming. 

You’ve been left with a good fuck and a nice purse, but as you lay in your bed, you can’t help but notice the way your headache never really left— it’s been nothing but a dull ache until now, the pain persistent and growing as you sigh in exasperation; none of your usual remedies have worked for you so far. 

Your body feels hot and weak, yet you’re left shivering as the blankets keep endlessly stacking on top of you. Not even your weighted blanket can lull you to sleep, your figure restless as you toss and turn in your bed, your phone buried in your puzzle of fabric. You’re in nothing but pain— you hate feeling like this, and the sudden grumbling of your stomach truly isn’t helping either. 

Left with no other options, you trudge to the kitchen, opening your fridge as you mentally brace yourself— it’s been a while since you’ve shopped for groceries; there’s not much in there that you could eat quickly, and you can’t find any energy within you to cook. 

The cool fridge door is welcoming against your skin— yet it’s also bothersome as you begin to shiver at the cold, closing the fridge quickly as you frown to yourself; whatever your body has come down with, it sure is annoying. Taking a moment to think, you suddenly find your eyes gravitating to a certain item; ergo, the floral lunch bag that remains untouched on your counter. 

It hasn’t been that long— an hour or two, at most. Whatever Beomgyu gave you couldn’t have spoiled by now, right? 

It’s soup, you recall him saying, biting your lip as you take the lunch bag to your small table, my mom's recipe. 

Unpacking the contents, you hum in surprise— yeah, this looks like a mothers cooking. The Tupperware he’s provided you with is filled to the brim with a nice broth that is still warm to the touch, a side of rice and vegetables also packed inside for you; you’re unable to stop a small awe from escaping you as you take out a small container of tea that has been stored inside for you as well, surprised at how much Beomgyu’s mother packed for you. 

Does she think we’re friends? Is this her way of making me stick with him? You wonder, biting at your lip as you hold back a laugh at the thought— a poor momma’s boy, struggling to make friends as his mother attempts to subtly help him. 

It’s no secret that Beomgyu was a bit of a loner— that’s why you reached out to him in the first place. You knew he wouldn’t be able to refuse you, because he couldn’t even give you the excuse that he had no time; that, and the hefty sum you gave him in exchange for tutoring someone as difficult as you. 

To a degree, you were self-aware— but it only came after the fifth person rejected your offer, saying that you probably wouldn’t even commit once you started. No matter how pissed you were when you were first told that, you were unable to disagree; unfortunately, it also sparked a deep spiraling of self-reflection as your new self-awareness brought you to Beomgyu; by then you were so desperate and ashamed that Beomgyu probably only accepted because he felt bad. 

Tutoring with Beomgyu had its benefits; he was nice, and quite the pushover as well. He never protested too much when you canceled on him, and the most you ever got from being annoying was a long scolding or an exasperated sigh from him— plus, now it seems that free food has been thrown into the mix.

Settling down at the table, you found yourself oddly restless as you went to fetch a small blanket from your bed— it was only then that you were able to find your phone, gasping as it landed roughly on the floor. Going back to the kitchen, you were now able to make yourself comfortable, sitting at your table as you took off the lids of everything that was packed for you— even the tea was still nice and warm in its thermos, everything packed with such care and attention to detail that you couldn’t help but take a picture of it. 

It was delicious as well; the soup was comforting and not too overwhelming on your senses as you mixed in bites of the white rice, fluffy and cooked to perfection as you melted in your seat with every spoonful. The vegetables were steamed and well seasoned; you practically squealed from happiness as you ate, not used to having such a big meal cooked by someone else these days. 

It filled you up quickly— the ginger tea was soothing against your throat, the taste of honey and lime mixed in leaving you warm and fuzzy as you tiredly trudged to bed; you’d have to beg Beomgyu to invite you to his mother’s house later. 

Maybe it did work, you briefly think to yourself, your mind quickly emptying as you make yourself comfortable in your bed, that only made me want to talk to Beomgyu more— maybe it wouldn’t be too bad being his friend. 

A soft laugh escapes you at the thought— your eyelids feel heavy as you struggle to stay awake, eager to sleep through this brief sickness that threatens to overtake you. After this, you’re sure it’ll be an easy recovery.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You think you’re dying. 

You’re hot and sweaty as you kick away your blankets for the umpteenth time, irritated as your body quickly begins to shiver instead. You’re only able to sleep for a few hours at a time, on the verge of tears as the clock on your bedside table reads nine pm— you’re unsure of what to do, already taking medication a few hours ago that seemed to do nothing. Your body is burning up as you toss and turn a bit more, dreading the new train of thought that enters your mind.

Maybe you should call someone.

Maybe they’ll know what to do, you think, holding back nausea that threatens to knock you out as you slowly sit up; scrolling through your contacts, you hesitantly press call to the first person you could think of. 

It rings once— then again, then a few times more before it goes straight to voicemail. 

“Hey, you’ve reached Yunjin’s voicemail. Please leave a messa—“ you sigh as you hang up, attempting to call a few times more before you give up entirely. 

She’s probably at a party. Or with some boy. 

Scrolling through your contacts, you choose your next person carefully— you’re sure they’re not busy right now, they’ve never been one to go to parties as often— 

Ning Ning’s phone goes straight to voicemail as well. 

Groaning, you lay back as you feel your head pounding, your mind racing as you attempt to go through a mental checklist of who you could call— but all you can conclude is that they’re busy, wouldn’t want to help, or you’re simply not that close to them.

“What the hell,” you mumble, pressing your face against your pillow as you sniffle softly— your headache has become unbearable, and you’ve always been a big crybaby whenever you got sick. 

“Do I not have any friends?” You ponder, your stomach sinking at the thought— there’s no way! If anything, your phone was always on silent from the number of notifications you got in a day; you always knew at least ten people when you walked in a room, the elite definition of a social butterfly— the last thing you would consider yourself is friendless. 

Maybe it’s just an unlucky time, you think, playing Russian roulette with your contacts as your finger presses on a random one; Hueningkai &lt;;3 glares back at you in bright letters, your eyes narrowing as you consider calling— he’s always been one to spoil you, so it wouldn’t be too far-fetched for him to help you this once, right?

You’re nervous as the phone rings out into your room, your fingers tapping on your bed impatiently as you wait for him to pick up— just when you think he won’t, his voice greets your ears like a miracle. 

“Hey baby, what’s up?” His voice is a bit rough as he speaks, his speech slow and relaxed as your eyes narrow at the sound; he’s probably high again. 

“Hueningkai,” you cry out softly, unable to help the way you become emotional in your state— your voice is muffled, your face buried in your pillow as the pain becomes far too overwhelming. 

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” His voice has become more alert at the sound of your sniffling, the sounds of rustling from his side making you wince, your hand going to lower the volume of your phone. 

“Dunno. I’m sick,” you say, flipping over onto your back as you stare up at the ceiling— you feel tired, yet you’re unable to get comfortable enough to sleep. You hear more rustling on the other side of the phone— Hueningkai sighs, mumbling something to himself before he clears his throat.

“Why don’t you go to the doctor, hmm?” You frown at his words, shaking your head at the thought— you weren’t really expecting this outcome. 

“I— I can’t really get up, I feel dizzy…” you confess sheepishly, the realization that you truly don’t have enough energy to even stand for too long weighing down on you, “I was wondering if you could come over?” 

“Come over?” Hueningkai echoes, humming softly at the thought— it’s silent, the tension leaving you biting at your lips as you wait for him to respond.

“Listen, uhm,” you sigh softly at his words, closing your eyes as you attempt to ignore the way your stomach dips with disappointment, “I’m kinda busy right now. But if you want, you can call me tomorrow and I can take you to the doctor, ‘kay?” 

Attempting to swallow down your disappointment, you nod, a moment of silence passing before you realize that he can���t even see you. 

“Yeah. Okay.” There’s a lump in your throat as you speak, and you can’t help but feel the way your body heats up as the line falls silent; from embarrassment, this time. It’s awkward, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Hueningkai mumbles a soft “okay then. Goodnight,” the sound of him hanging up the last thing you hear before you’re shrouded in complete silence, the darkness of your room threatening to swallow you whole. 

The sound of your stomach growling angrily is the only thing that breaks the silence. 

A frustrated groan tears through you— you’re oddly emotional as you force yourself to sit up, pausing as you attempt to maintain balance; your head is spinning, and you’re beginning to realize how long it’s been since you last ate. The floor is cold under your feet as you trudge to the kitchen; you can’t bring yourself to turn on the lights, your slippers lost somewhere in your room as you feel a shiver wrack through your body. 

What will you do? Your fridge is practically empty and takeout doesn’t sound too appealing to you; you can feel tears well up in your eyes once more, a pout forming on your face as you slump down on a chair in defeat. Sighing, you think back to earlier— the homemade food Beomgyu brought to you, so soothing and filling it almost reminded you of the meals your cook back at home would make for you— maybe you could call your driver to take you home for a bit. 

It’s hours away and he’s probably off right now, you frown, checking the time on your phone just in case— 9:45— yeah, he’s definitely home by now. Of course, nothing is stopping you from calling him and telling him it’s an emergency, but then you’d feel far too guilty about ripping him away from his family just for you. 

He spends enough time at our home as it is, you think, placing your phone on the table as you go to massage your temples weakly. You need to eat something— maybe you’ll get some energy from it. But, picky as always, you can’t seem to find anything that sounds appealing to you; even the restaurant you frequently eat at doesn't seem to be doing anything for you, your mind inevitably going back to the one thing you were avoiding. 

Hesitantly, you pick up your phone— you can’t believe you’re actually going to try this, you think, biting at your lip before you finally press call; then again, this isn’t entirely out of character for you.

A lonely college student that doesn’t have many friends— if anything, he’s probably up studying right now, you think, frowning as you press your phone firmly to your ear, and if he was willing to check up on me, he should be willing to do this small thing for me too. 

“Hello?” The relief that floods through you is surprising; you’re becoming lax against your seat as the sound of Beomgyu’s uncertain voice meets your ears— his voice is gruff and soft as he speaks, unsure of whether or not you called him on purpose. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” you whine, already feeling yourself becoming unnecessarily emotional as you allow yourself to rant to him, “I’m sick. Can you do me a small favor?” 

On his end, Beomgyu is oddly surprised— why would you go to him of all people? He’s a bit weary as he listens to you carefully, thinking back to the way you were able to shut him out effortlessly; if anything, he must’ve been your last resort.

“What is it?” 

You’re unable to hold back the sigh of relief that escapes you— a smile graces your lips, and for the first time during this miserable experience, you don’t feel helpless. 

“Okay, hear me out please,” you start, sitting up as you clear your throat; unbeknownst to Beomgyu, you’re about to begin one of your infamous ramblings. 

“I know you might be busy studying or whatever, but I promise I’ll be quick. So, you remember the food you gave me earlier? I actually ate it, and it was really good! Your mom is a good cook, but then again, I’m pretty sure all moms are pretty good cooks. But like, I’m gonna be honest with you, I forgot to get groceries earlier this week, so I don’t really have much to eat— I could go order takeout or something but the thought of eating something greasy right now makes me wanna puke. I was thinking that since you probably don’t go out that much your mom might have given you extra servings of that soup, and I know it sounds really entitled and a bit bitchy but do you think you could please please please drop some off? 

“I promise I’ll pay you whatever and you seriously only need to drop it off at my door, it’s just that her cooking was really good and I almost started crying when I ate it— I get really emotional when I’m sick so I also think it’d be best for you to leave as quickly as you can; please please please please I promise I won’t ditch our study sessions for a good week at least, I’ll be good and study! I just think I’m gonna pass out right now and your mom’s food is the only thing I can think of right now… please?”

You feel out of breath as you finally finish your seemingly endless ramble— on the other side of the line, Beomgyu lets out an exasperated laugh. 

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be there.” You’re not sure when you began to get emotional over nothing, but you’re surprised to feel hot tears streaming down your face at Beomgyu’s words, a few hiccups escaping you as you let out a soft really? “Yeah, I’ll just leave it at your doorstep.”

Standing up, you stumble a bit as you wipe your tears away. If you hadn’t scared Beomgyu away before, you surely did now. 

“Drop it off inside. My door’s gonna be unlocked.”

There’s an odd pause after you say that; you’re about to question what happened before you hear rustling on his side of the phone, Beomgyu’s soft hum the last thing you hear before he lets out a soft “okay. I’ll be there.” You’re unable to thank him as he’s quick to hang up— and the exhaustion that has been building up inside you all day is suddenly released, the promise of food making your brain at ease as you slowly make your way over to the couch. 

You’re so tired— a small nap wouldn’t hurt, right? It would be nice to wake up to the sight of food at my doorstep, you think, a small smile easing onto your face as you find yourself curling up at the end of your couch; oh, you really can’t help yourself— your eyelids are becoming excruciatingly heavy. 

For the umpteenth time today, you allow yourself to sleep— even if it’ll only last twenty minutes at most. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu is a little off-put as he peeks inside your apartment. 

He feels odd, extremely guilty, and a bit shameful as he pops his head inside, all of his calls have gone to voicemail as he chose the next best option— you did say your door was unlocked, after all. 

He expected you to be scolding him for taking so long after forty minutes had passed, but he found himself pleasantly surprised (and somewhat worried) when his phone remained entirely unbothered; so now here he stands, multiple heavy bags filled with ingredients in his hands as he kicks off his shoes clumsily. 

He finds you fast asleep on the couch; he’s extremely concerned at how trusting you are, but he decides to chalk it up to the fact that your skin is burning hot to the touch and you’re probably not thinking straight— Beomgyu is quick to pull his palm away from your forehead the moment you stir even slightly, jolting into action as he flees into your kitchen instead. 

Placing the bags on your table, he looks back at you in worry— all he can do for now is wet a few paper towels, wringing out as much water as he can before he’s making his way to you cautiously; you’re burning up and sweaty as he dabs the towel on your skin, tutting softly as he finally places the towel on your forehead. 

“I knew you weren’t feeling well,” he scolds you softly, pulling the blanket that has fallen off your shoulders back on you carefully before he’s pulling away, rolling his eyes at the sight, “you’re lucky you practically pay my bills.”

Quietly, Beomgyu gets to work— he feels a bit bad for rummaging through your kitchen so boldly, but he’s sure you wouldn’t really mind if you woke up; you’re the one who invited him in the first place. 

At some point, Beomgyu finds himself quite comfortable in your kitchen— it’s quite spacious and allows him to get lost deep in his thoughts; he gets so comfortable, in fact, that he’s unable to pick up on the fact that you’re wide awake and slowly trudging your way to him. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” the sound of your voice is enough for him to practically jump out of his skin, narrowly missing his finger as he hurriedly drops the knife in his hands, spinning around wildly as he presses himself tightly against the counter— your tired and puffy face is eerily close to his as your lidded eyes stare up at him, still heavy with sleep as you frown softly. 

“What,” you mumble softly, taking in his flustered expression before your eyes are wandering to the mess behind him— the cutting board of vegetables, the stovetop that is busy with two pots simmering away, a familiar aroma filling your apartment; your eyes flick back to the way he seems both guilty and embarrassed, your head tilting as he watches you slowly piece everything together, “what is all this? Where’s your mom's food?”

Well, maybe not.

Beomgyu sighs— the sight of him shaking his head in dismay is enough to have your eyes widening with surprise, watching as he slowly turns his back to you; the constant rhythm of him cutting vegetables is the only sound that fills the room, and it seems that Beomgyu won’t be answering your question any time soon; you’re ready to protest and annoy him until he talks, but it seems he’s quick to beat you to it. 

“My mom wasn’t the one who made it,” he sighs, putting his knife down as he quickly goes to the pot of soup to give it a mix; your eyes are fluttering shut at the smell, a small smile gracing your lips as you fight the urge to have a taste then and there; but you’re snapped back to reality from his words, stammering as you look at him in confusion. 

“But— you said it was—“

“My mother's recipe,” he draws out, dropping the seasoned vegetables into a third pot as you watch them get steamed, “I’m the one who made the food.”

You think back to the floral lunch bag he handed to you hours earlier; how he seemed so hesitant to give it to you, oddly pouty as he watched the way you were quick to hand it to someone else— you feel yourself become embarrassed by your behavior, oddly defensive as you remember how much you begged for him to give you another taste.

“Oh. Okay,” you say, clearing your throat as you slump back down on a chair— you found it entirely too exhausting to be standing for that long, “it was the next best thing for me anyway— my driver is off right now so I have no one to take me anywhere.”

“I see you’re feeling better,” Beomgyu mumbles, rolling his eyes at your actions as your usual bratty self resurfaces; he almost found your delirious, emotional self from earlier more welcoming than this, forced to listen to more of your ramblings as you watch him cook. 

“No. Not at all actually,” you complain, the ache in your body suddenly much more noticeable than it was a few minutes ago as you cross your legs on the chair; you’re huddled up in your blanket again, staring at his back as you practically take out your pain on him, “my head feels like its gonna explode— my body’s so fucking hot but I can’t take this blanket off or else I’ll feel like I’m freezing my ass off. I don’t know what to do because I never get sick like this; if anything, I should’ve called our family doctor instead of you.” 

You feel a bit bad as the words come out sharper than you intended— Beomgyu is easy to read as he flinches at your statement, head ducked down and an awkward silence permeating the room as he says nothing in response. 

“…you’re lucky your mom taught you how to cook,”  you backtrack, your voice oddly soft as you press your lips together; you refuse to say anything more as you curl up tightly on the chair, laying your head down on the table as you attempt to let your blanket shield you from the world— you’re back to your unpredictable, emotional self as you feel a lump forming in your throat, a feeling of longing forming inside you as you wish you were home instead of here, pestering your poor tutor in exchange for a hefty sum of money.

“Hey,” his voice is much closer than you expected it to be as you peek up from your small fortress, raising a brow as you stare at the glass of water and pills in his hand, “take this. I’m guessing you haven’t taken any medication for your fever in a while.”

A soft ‘hmph’ is all that leaves you as you reluctantly accept the medicine (because the truth was that he was right). It isn’t until he shows you what he’s giving you as you take the pills begrudgingly; you hate that he can see through you so easily. Chugging down the glass of water, you fail to notice how he waits beside you patiently, sending him a petulant look as you wait for him to say something— instead, he raises a small thermometer to your forehead, taking your temperature as he lets out a soft tsk.

“Your temperature is way too high. Eat, then go back to sleep,” he says, only leaving your side to get you a proper serving of soup; it’s the same meal you had earlier, but you’re oddly excited as you notice the hefty amount of rice he gave you, a new side of him peeking through as he watches you carefully— it’s only when you send him a questioning look that he becomes red in the face, clearing his throat awkwardly as he points back to the mess behind him.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it,” he mumbles, not bothering to look you in the eyes as he quietly begins to take care of the dishes. 

“I wasn’t going to,” you remark, your mouth still full of rice as you scoff softly at his excuse— you find yourself oddly annoyed with him as you take in just how much he’s doing for you, unable to fathom anyone else doing all this for you, unprovoked.

He must really need the money, you reason with yourself, unsure of why else he would do such a thing— you roll your eyes at the thought, any intimacy that might have come from all this dissolving into thin air as you become oddly irritated with him. 

But you will admit, this soup really hits the spot. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’re out like a light moments after. 

If Beomgyu said he was surprised, it would definitely be a lie; you were barely awake on your couch for more than five minutes, and by the time Beomgyu finishes cleaning up and putting away the leftover ingredients in your fridge (which was criminally empty for someone who had so much money) you’re already curled back up in your corner of the couch, your temperature only having gone down slightly as you begin to toss and turn in your sleep. 

The wet paper towels that Beomgyu had placed on you earlier are folded neatly on your coffee table— Beomgyu huffs softly as he discards it, wetting some more before he’s placing it carefully on your forehead; he’s unsure of what else to do now, standing back awkwardly as he considers staying to watch over you— your condition seemed pretty serious from how high your temperature was, and it certainly didn’t help that you straight up rammed into the kitchen table and injured your shin from how unstable you were. 

And that’s when you became a crybaby once more. 

He can still see the lingering tears that cling to your lashes, a soft pout forming on your lips as you shiver slightly at the touch of the cool towel. What to do, he ponders, sitting on the couch opposite to you as he watches over you carefully, he’s not sure if there’s anyone else that could take care of you. 

Hell, the fact that he’s here of all people is enough to prove that to him; but also, he should really be studying for that upcoming physics exam that has been concerning him a bit. He glances back at you— calm, undisturbed, only shifting every once in a while as you tuck yourself deeper into the blanket you wrapped tightly around yourself— and he sighs, finding himself oddly torn as he wonders whether he should leave you or not. 

He could go back home and study, but he knows that he wouldn’t get very far, thoughts of you and your condition plaguing his mind as he desperately tried to focus. His thoughts are disrupted as you groan softly in discomfort, shifting restlessly on the couch before your eyes are fluttering open, locking with his instantly. 

“You’re still here,” you murmur, squinting at him as you cough softly, “thought you’d be gone by now.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him; it’s oddly condescending as he finds himself standing up instantly, clearing his throat as he looks away from you and your searing gaze. 

“Yeah,” he says, feeling strangely flustered as he makes his way to the front door; your eyes follow him the whole way there, and he feels so small under your gaze as he goes to slip his coat on. “I was just leaving.”

“Oh. ‘kay,” you shrug, shifting restlessly on the couch before you’re turning your back to him, curled into a ball as you wave at him weakly, “I’ll Venmo you later.”

He can’t help but feel bristled at your careless attitude, still not used to the way you’re always ready to spend money at the drop of a hat despite tutoring you for weeks now. Tying his shoes, he can’t help but glance at you one last time; it pains him to admit he’s slightly worried for you, but the rational part of him tells him it’s just because he doesn’t want you calling him to come back the moment you’re feeling nauseous again. 

Yet you remain still, resembling a rock as your figure is hidden under countless piles of blankets— judging by the steady rise and fall of it, he figures you already fell back asleep. 

It takes Beomgyu an embarrassingly long time to leave— but only because he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t wake up spontaneously and start whining, of course— you remain dead to the world the whole time he watches over you. 

By the time Beomgyu finally makes it out of your doorway, he feels more frustrated than anything. Because even once he gets home to study, he can’t help but keep his phone close-by, worried that you’ll call out of the blue asking for help. 

His phone remains silent all night.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

The next time Beomgyu sees you, he’s reminded as to why you had so many difficulties getting a tutor.

You’re flashy and perfect as always as you stand in the doorway of his apartment, arms crossed and eyes no-doubt narrowed behind your expensive designer shades. Your foot is tapping impatiently at the concrete outside as you tilt your head in annoyance— Beomgyu had made the mistake to ignore the first few rings of his doorbell, much too distracted by his game to remember that it would be you waiting for him.

“So? You gonna let me in, or do you need to tidy up first?” Beeomgyu’s mantra consists of how short your lesson will be today and the paycheck he’ll get out of it— one of the perks of you being desperate was that Beomgyu got to raise his rates shamelessly— and it takes Beomgyu a second to push past your intimidating and prickly demeanor to nod his head and step aside, watching as you push your shades up and secure them on your head.

It takes you a second to slip out of your shoes as you daintily put them aside, and Beomgyu can feel his ears become hot as he watches the way you wince slightly at the pair of guest slippers he hands you— though he tries to tell himself you don’t mean to be like this, a soothing lie that lets him lead you to his living room as he ignores his insecurity.

“Wait, can’t we just go to your room? I don’t feel like studying on the couch right now,” the yawn that rips through you is uncontrollable as you face away and cover your mouth politely— Beomgyu tries to not let his jaw drop to the floor in response. For someone who had never been to his apartment, you sure were demanding. He shouldn’t feel too surprised though, given how blunt you’ve proved to be the entire time he’s known you. 

He’s unable to say no as he gathers the textbook and notebooks on the table and leads the way; he can feel his heart pounding against his chest in fear that you’ll judge him, heart pounding slightly as he goes to lead you to where his room is. (He just hopes you’ll judge him internally, at the very least.)

Meanwhile, you’ve been biting back a smile this whole time; you know you’ve been quite bitchy to him this whole time, but you’d like to think it’s karma for making you study first thing at nine in the morning— his excuse had been the long shift he’d have to cover straight after the tutoring session. 

You’re quite surprised at the size and state of his apartment, expecting something much… cheaper, as you kept in mind how quick Beomgyu was to do something whenever you offered him money. Yet as you walk to his room, you’re left quiet as you take in the way everything in his home practically shines; his coffee table, the couch that lacks any crumbs or trash, and his carpet that seems to be recently vacuumed. 

You find yourself so caught up in the appearance of his apartment that you fail to notice another presence in the living room; specifically, one that lets out a loud chirp, your body jumping back from the startle and eyes growing wide as you search for the source of the sound— your eyes land on a cage tucked in the corner of the room, a bright green bird with big eyes staring at you curiously from within. 

“What the fuck is that?” you say softly— much louder than you intended, really— and Beomgyu is turning back around to see what you’re talking about, eyes widening as he realizes you’re currently staring down his bird with a slight wonder. 

“Oh— that’s Toto,” Beomgyu says, rushing to put everything in his arms down and scurrying after when he notices you beginning to get closer; he’s hovering over you, taking in your expression of curiosity carefully before he continues. “He’s my parrot.”

You let out a soft oh. You seem rooted to your spot as you watch the bird continue to climb around the cage, clearly much more active now that Beomgyu is nearby; the said man notes your obvious curiosity, and before he can stop and have any second thoughts, he’s reaching over you to open the cage. 

“Wait wait, what’re you—” a yelp escapes you and you’re jumping back the moment Beomgyu is reaching inside, hiding behind him and peeking over his shoulder to watch the way he extends a finger out to the bird— Toto— your mouth falling open dumbly as you take in the way the bird immediately climbs onto his hand.

Beomgyu is careful to take him out; you’re still peeking from behind him as you stare down his bird with wide eyes, body tensed as though it could fly away any given moment— you’re flinching in surprise when he’s turning to face you, hands coming up in defense as the bright green bird swings along, not a thought in its beady eyes as it’s suddenly thrust into your face— you step back again, the movement sudden and startling the bird as its wings flap slightly, which in turn startles you again— Beomgyu merely watches in amusement, and he tries his best to contain his laugh in fear of facing your prickly attitude. 

“What the hell,” you breathe out softly, brows twitching and knitting together as you stare at Toto as though it were a foreign creature you’ve never seen, “It’s so… weird looking.”

Beomgyu can only gawk at your comment. 

“He’s— he’s not,” is all Beomgyu can say in rebuttal, offended as he looks over at Toto, examining him in reassurance before he pulls his pet closer to his chest. 

“He’s a handsome little bird,” Beomgyu mutters, and you’re sure you definitely weren’t supposed to hear that, watching in amazement as Beomgyu strokes Toto’s head fondly, the said bird bowing its head so he can get better access, “you’re such a cool guy, don’t listen to her Toto.”

Glancing back at you, Beomgyu seems to realize what he’s just said, and blushes a soft pink— though you’re not sure why he’s acting so shy, you’ve literally been standing there the whole time— and he clears his throat awkwardly, casting his gaze back to his pet and running his finger along the bird gently before he’s speaking again. 

“Do you wanna hold him?”

“I— what?!” you say indignantly, eyes growing the size of saucers as you stare at him, acting as though he’s just told you something extremely offensive, “I don’t want that thing near me, what if it— it…”

You’re trailing off slowly— Beomgyu looks absolutely dejected. You can tell he’s trying not to show his hurt, avoiding your gaze and staring down at Toto instead, but he simply reminds you too much of a kicked puppy to let you continue your baffled ramblings; a moment passes where the two of you don’t say anything, but you finally break the second Beomgyu looks like he’s about to put Toto back in. 

“Fine.”

He looks back at you immediately; his eyes look like they’ve been filled with stars. 

“Give— give me the bird,” you mumble offhandedly, outstretching your hand awkwardly and finding yourself unable to look at him for once; you can feel the heat of embarrassment threatening to creep onto your skin, but you will it away and bite your cheek as you wait for Beomgyu to do something.

After a second, you feel it; the pressure on your finger, the weird texture and the claws that dig into your skin as the bird’s little feet wrap around you, unable to contain the way you shudder at the feeling; your arm has gone rigid and you’re reluctant to look at the pet that is now perched on your hand, afraid that it might attack you or something— but after a deep breath and some mental encouragement, you do it anyway. 

This thing is so fucking creepy, you find yourself thinking, face screwing into one of disdain as you take in the way it simply remains still, freaking you out even further when it suddenly tilts its head in curiosity. 

It begins to climb up your arm. 

“What the fuck, what the fuck,” you breathe out in a panic, extending your arm away from you as steadily and quickly as you can, the thing now perched on your forearm as you bite back a squeal of fear— you’re looking over at Beomgyu in a haste, expression blatantly screaming help me!— and he quickly springs into action the moment your eyes meet. 

“Toto,” Beomgyu coos, clicking his tongue and reaching out to place his hand at Toto’s feet; but the bird only continues to climb up and runs away from Beomgyu, a long, slightly terrified, groan leaving your lips as you can only watch it in horror, much too afraid to jerk your arm and send Toto flying; the moment it’s talons find its way onto your shoulder, you find yourself looking away and praying. 

“Toto,” Beomgyu tries again, a little stressed now as he watches his bird perch peacefully on your shoulder— you, on the other hand, are in utter distress, shoulders tense and eyes screwed shut as you mentally pray for the thing to not peck at you— you think you’ve started to hold your breath now. 

Through your eyes that peek slightly in fear, you’re able to see Beomgyu reach down at the storage unit beneath the cage and grab something; Toto seems to shift on your shoulder from the sight, and you grow tense as you wonder what the hell the man could be up to— with another call of Toto’s name, the bird finally jumps off your shoulder and over to Beomgyu.

Your body practically slumps in relief. 

Beomgyu is back to holding Toto in his hand; your brows furrow at the sight of it eating something strange, your obvious confusion making Beomgyu smile slightly.

“It’s millet,” he explains, slowly moving to put Toto back in the cage before he places the said millet inside as well; with one last gentle scratch at Toto’s head, Beomgyu closes the cage. “It’s like a treat for him.”

“Whatever,” you say dismissively, glancing at Toto one last time before you shudder and turn away, “I don’t wanna see him again.”

Beomgyu isn’t too offended by your comment; if anything, he smiles in amusement, muttering softly that Toto seems to like you— you make a point to blatantly ignore his comment.

Any confidence Beomgyu had built up from before disappears the moment you finally arrive before the door that leads to the room; he’s found himself nervous once more, shifting the materials in his arms and reach out to open his door cautiously; he hopes you didn’t take notice of the way his hand shook slightly.

His room is no different than the rest of the apartment as you stand in the doorway, curiously surveying it all; your brow raises in amusement as you take in the way his personality is scattered throughout the small room. His bed is neatly made and the sheets are pressed to perfection, and the nightstand contains a stack of books that are both thick and annotated. 

In front of you, you watch Beomgyu awkwardly place the books in his arms down on the bed, pushing up his glasses as you allow your eyes to continue drifting around— they instantly land on the desk setup in the corner of the room, your eyes widening as you’re able to recognize how expensive the setup is; two monitors display a random game you seem to recognize, and you let your curiosity get the best of you as you approach it slowly. 

The keyboard is lighting up before you and a headset is hung on one of the monitors, and you let out a soft tsk as you take in the empty coffee cups beside the mouse, the only messy thing about his whole room; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’s spilled the liquid over the setup before. 

What surprised you the most however, are the countless picture frames and cute figurines that are scattered all over the room— a lucky cat is perched right at his windowsill, waving at you repeatedly as you’re unable to hold back your laugh of bewilderment; everything seems to be dusted and well taken care of, you’re surprised Beomgyu can ever find the energy to do such things. 

“You play League of Legends?” Is all you say, turning around as you meet Beomgyu’s flustered face; Beomgyu had been on the verge of melting into a puddle of embarrassment the entire time you looked around his room, unsure of what to say or do the moment you approached his gaming setup. He was sure you’d make fun of him, but instead he’s pleasantly surprised as he silently hopes his face isn’t a raging red at the moment. (It definitely is, but you’re kind enough to give him a break and not tease him about it.)

“Oh— yeah. You play?” It’s oddly adorable to watch the way his eyes light up and his whole body perks up excitedly, but you find it even more adorable to watch the way he deflates as you bark out a laugh of surprise, your whole face lighting up as you cover your mouth in apology, feeling a slight pity for managing to make him look like a kicked puppy again. 

“Fuck no!” You say in amusement, unable to imagine yourself doing such a thing, “Huening used to be obsessed with it though.” 

You roll your eyes at the memory, recalling all the nights back in high school where he’d leave you alone in his bed, staying up late gaming with his friends while you hid in his room during social gatherings— but now he “outgrew that childish game,” according to him. If anything, you think he outgrew gaming all together, especially after you expressed how ridiculous the whole thing seemed to you. 

“Huening, the guy from your apartment?” Beomgyu says meekly, eyes downcast as he flips through his notes mindlessly; you scoff, flopping on the bed next to him as you cross your legs daintily.

“Yeah, the guy from my apartment,” you say, leaning in to try and catch his gaze, “what, you jealous?” 

Your comment is enough to have Beomgyu a sputtering mess; you don’t think he could get any redder than he is now as he shoves his notebook into your lap, clearing his throat weakly as he scoots away from you, leaving an offending amount of space as he squeaks out a defensive no. 

“Wouldn’t blame you if you were,” you tease, staring down at the notes as you try to decipher what the hell it could all mean— it’s embarrassing when you’re left on your own for a good minute, unable to say anything about the material before Beomgyu is finally jumping to your aide and explaining things to you; slowly, you settle down and allow him to begin the session. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’d like to pat yourself on the back for lasting so long. Lasting so long without being difficult, that is, because the hour of peace Beomgyu got was short lived before you became a short-tempered brat before him—the only thing that surprises him at this point is the confidence you get to be like this all the time.

“I seriously don’t get this stuff,” you whine, kicking Beomgyu softly as you hold back a smile— it was clearly done to tease him— laying back on his bed as you cross your arms childishly, “I think I should just change my major.” 

Beomgyu isn’t surprised that you find that so easy to say— for a moment, he dreams of being able to do the same when times get tough, but he was quick to come back to reality as he watched you kick at him petulantly; you managed to lay on his bed and make yourself comfortable, splayed over his pillows as you continued to mess around with him. 

“Can’t we take a break? I’ve been good,” you pout, tapping your fingers on your bicep as you look at him sweetly— Beomgyu has to look away in order to say no, tapping his pencil on his notebook as he quietly prays for you to settle down and focus again. 

“Come on, you’re lucky I showed up in the first place,” Beomgyu’s gaze is glued to his notebook as you roughly sit up, your denim shorts riding up your thighs as you kneel close to him; taking a deep breath to calm himself proves to be a mistake as he gets a good smell of your expensive perfume, biting his lip as he watches you try to get his attention by getting closer to him.

“You only showed up because I did you a favor,” it’s odd that you find the way his voice trembles and his ears turn red adorable, but then again, you’d be a little sad if a man didn’t react that way to you. 

You have him wrapped around your finger— it’s a fact that dawns on you as you watch the way he doesn’t shut you down and forces you to study. Scooting closer to him, you lean down, pressing your cheek against his bicep as you stare down at the countless notes that lay before him. 

“Well, that and because you’re kinda cute,” you admit, holding back a smile at the way he flinches at the sudden contact, “But seriously, I’m so bored.” 

Beomgyu thinks you might have gone insane as he watches the way you take the materials in his lap away from him, setting it to the side before you’re stringing yourself across his lap, stretching cutely as you stare up at him with wide doe eyes— he’s quickly looking back up as he fails to find the strength to push you off. 

“I can’t believe I actually came here this early,” you say, adjusting yourself on his thighs before you’re grabbing his hand, playing with his sleeve coyly as you wonder how far you can take this, “How’d you afford this place all by yourself? It’s in a good area too.” 

“I didn’t,” Beomgyu stutters out, clearing his throat as he pulls his hand away from your grasp shyly, “I have a roommate— Yeonjun.” 

“Choi Yeonjun? Captain of the baseball team?” You say, eyes widening as you watch Beomgyu nod softly; you’re sitting up, ignoring the way Beomgyu visibly relaxes at the action, “Is he here right now?” 

“No, he’s out,” Beomgyu frowns, watching as the gears turn in your head, your pout obvious as you take in his response, “he won’t be home for another three hours.” 

How in the hell did he and Beomgyu become roommates? It’s a question you’re quite literally fighting the urge to ask, but knowing that one of the most attractive guys you’ve had your eye on currently lives in the same house as the man before you makes you want to stick around longer— though you think you might be too obvious about it, judging by the way Beomgyu’s frowning at you. 

“That’s nice,” you hum, feeling a bit bad for the way Beomgyu looks away in defeat, “but that means we’re all alone here?” 

Your question is enough to have Beomgyu sitting up straight— your tone is so dangerous, the way you slowly crawl to him even more so.

He quickly finds himself scooting back, eyes flying around wildly as he almost falls off the bed— you’re quick to catch him, pulling him by the collar of his sweater as his adam’s apple bobs visibly. His long hair falls back and his face is left exposed to you, your body finding comfort on top of his as you straddle his thighs comfortably. His glasses are left on the tip of his nose as his ears quickly turn red, cheeks dusted with the same color as he uselessly props himself up on his elbows; you’re practically nose to nose as you tower over him, your cute blouse hanging and exposing your breasts in a way that has Beomgyu staring straight above your head— in return, the reflection of your sunglasses is all that meets him. 

“Do you ever take a break?” You ask, letting go of his collar before you’re gently smoothing it out; he’s shivering at your touch, eyes fluttering shut nervously as he exhales at the feeling of your warm hand— he knows you can see the way he tenses as you begin to trail your palm down his chest, pressing teasingly where his heart resides as you tilt your head cutely.

“Ever stop studying and just…. Take care of yourself?” The implications of your words couldn’t be more obvious with the way your voice drops, your thighs clenching around his body as you watch his breath hitch at the action; your fingers delicately drum against his chest as you wait for him to say something, to push you off and tell you to never speak to him again— instead, he shakes his head, his shyness intensifying as his eyes remain shut. 

“Will you let me take care of you?” You breathe out, entranced with the way his eyes finally open to meet yours— within them, he sees no malice or mockery, just an intense fire and need that has his stomach twisting and his hands grabbing at his neatly pressed sheets in anticipation.

Softly, he nods. 

You’ve never experienced this before; you’ve never had a man pliant and weak under you, ready to take whatever you give him with adoring eyes that sparkle under the lights. You’re so used to being the one in that position, of allowing yourself to be used and molded how they’d like— so to say you’re quite surprised at the thrill you feel is an understatement. 

“You’re like a little puppy,” you mumble sweetly, reaching up to caress his heated cheeks— the whine that escapes him is involuntary, your eyes clouding with lust as you take in the way he reacts to your nickname; leaning up, you grab the collar of his sweater as you guide him to sit up with you— you’re in awe of how obedient he is as he follows your command, hands hovering politely as he waits for your next move. 

“Do you like it when I call you that?” You tilt your head, laying your hands by Beomgyu’s collar bones before they’re sliding up, intertwining lazily behind his nape as you’re leaning in teasingly; you’re so close to him, you can feel his breath fan on your face as you tease the corner of his lips with your own— you’re pulling away the moment he tries to chase you, giving him an expectant look as you wait for him to answer your question. “Puppy?” 

“Y—yes, I…” he’s unable to finish his sentence the moment he feels your chest press against his, soft breasts teasing him as he squeezes his eyes shut; you’re everywhere, your lips planting feather-like kisses on his cheeks as you begin to overwhelm his senses. Your warm thighs that encase him, your hands that play with the nape of his hair, your perfume that he gets to inhale as you tilt your neck closer to him— hell, as you reach his jaw, he’s able to smell your shampoo, the scent addicting and no doubt expensive as you press yourself firmly against him.

This is insane. There should be no universe where Beomgyu should have one of the richest girls in his university pressed against him and on his lap, and there’s no way he’s the one submitting himself so pathetically in it. Yet here he is, practically leaning into your touch and chasing after you the moment you pull away, feeling a whine escape from his throat as he finally finds the courage to place a hand on your hip; keeping you in place, fingertips splayed over the swell of your ass as you try and fail to hide the smile that breaks out on your face. 

“Stupid puppy wants me to kiss him?” You pout mockingly, and instead of feeling the usual shame bubbling within him from your condescending tone, Beomgyu can only feel himself melt pathetically, pouty face and shining doe eyes begging you to give in as you brush away a strand of hair that fell in his eye; Beomgyu’s eyes flutter shut at the gentle touch, lips parting before he finally feels you swoop in and take him by surprise. 

Your lip gloss is sweet and sticky as you ravish the boy below you, able to feel his inexperience and eagerness with the way he’s practically ready to push you back into the mattress— but he holds himself back, allowing you to swipe your tongue along his lip and tease him before you’re venturing further. 

It’s all so lewd and desperate, and Beomgyu feels dazed by the time you’re finally pulling away, a Cheshire grin on your face as you swipe his bottom lip that’s shining with lip gloss and saliva; like instinct, his lips part and close around your thumb, eyes never straying from yours as you feel his tongue swipe over the finger teasingly— your gaze darkens at the sight, mind racing with all the things you could do to him as you watch the way his plush lips circle around the digit. 

The pop that sounds throughout the room when you pull away is enough to make you let out a soft groan, your eyes tracing along his body until you finally find the very thing you’re curious about— smiling, you’re not as surprised to find his dick straining against the neat fabric of his trousers.

“Can I touch you, pup?” You ask, your voice breathy and deep as you wait patiently for his answer; once again, he gulps, shining eyes just as dazed as you are before he finally lets out a soft yes; slowly, your perfectly manicured hand makes its way down to his khaki trousers, playing with the button before you’re finally undoing it— the sigh that Beomgyu lets out once you undo his zipper is practically lethal, your lips twitching in delight at the sound.

It’s cute to see the way his hips buck up into the air as you reveal his boxers, helping you pull down his pants until you’re face to face with the very thing you’ve been wanting the most. It’s odd, but it seems as though Beomgyu brings out a side you didn’t think existed, a teasing smile creeping its way onto your face as you plant your core firmly on him; he’s letting out a strangled gasp at the sudden pressure and warmth, his eyes screwing shut as his lips are falling open, the sight tempting as you resist the urge to kiss him again. 

Beomgyu is like an instrument under your touch, and you’re eager to learn how to play as you slowly begin to rock your hips back and forth; the reaction is instant for him as he bucks up into you, whimpering cutely as his eyes remain shut the whole time. Your thighs feel so soft against his own, and he’s sure he won’t last long if he’s forced to inhale your intoxicating scent the whole way through. 

It isn’t until you’re climbing off his lap that Beomgyu’s eyes are finally flying open, meeting yours in a confused haze as he allows you to push him back and tower over him as he lays; he looks so enticing and pretty with his hair splayed out around the sheets, lidded eyes and fucked out expression oddly addicting to you as you go to straddle one of his thighs. 

“You’re so cute,” you coo, pushing his sweater up as you run your nails teasingly over his stomach— you laugh softly as he flinches at the feeling. Slowly, you’re pulling the waistband of his boxers down until his cock is finally springing out and smacking against his stomach; his tip is red and sticky as a line of precum is left connected to his stomach, his eyes shutting in embarrassment once more as he turns his head to the side in an effort to turn away. He’s so long as you take him in, appreciating the vein that runs along the curve of his shaft with a soft hum.

“Please,” he whines, covering his face with his hands as his body grows hotter the longer you stare at him; you can only laugh fondly at the sight, watching the way his hips buck up uselessly at the sound. 

“My puppy, you’re so pretty,” you sigh, spitting in your hand before you’re finally reaching down to grab ahold of him; the feeling is unexpected as Beomgyu lets out a soft yelp under you, his cries dying out the moment you’re beginning to stroke him teasingly. 

“How long has it been since you let out some steam?” You tease, running your thumb across his tip and spreading the precum along as he simply moans in response; he’s so whiny and breathy as none of your words seem to register in his head, enamored by the pretty girl that’s sitting on his thigh and stroking his cock so well. 

You can’t help yourself when you readjust to kneel between his legs, his face still covered by his hands as he doesn’t anticipate your next move— Beomgyu swears he almost came the moment he felt your mouth wrap around his tip. Your mouth is practically watering around Beomgyu’s cock as you slowly take him in, surprised by his length yet determined to hear more of his pathetic gasps and whines as you slowly take him in. 

“Oh god, oh god, you’re so— y-you’re so warm, oh,” Beomgyu is a babbling mess as his hands land helplessly on your head, unsure of what to do with them as he feels the tip of your nose press against his navel; his eyes are practically rolling back as he feels the mess you’re making on his cock, your mouth so hot and wet he can’t help the way he subtly thrusts into it.

“I’m sorry, I— I didn’t mean to…” his words are dying on his tongue the moment he feels you reach for his hand and pull back, guiding him to set the pace as you run your tongue over his tip— that’s enough to have Beomgyu whining and out of breath, but he’s able to pull himself together as he slowly begins to fuck your mouth. 

“Shit, you’re so pretty, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Beomgyu breathes out, fascinated with the way you remain completely cool even as he begins thrusting his cock into your throat, “so good.”

The sudden confession doesn’t process in Beomgyu’s mind, but it has your mind reeling as you close your eyes, determined to make this man fall apart under you as you ignore the flutter of butterflies in your stomach. 

It takes Beomgyu a second to find his pace as he’s gently stroking your hair, face warm and shining with embarrassment as he tries to ignore how inexperienced he may seem— contrary to what he might think, you don’t really care; the only thing you care for is how melodic he sounds as his hips begin stuttering into your mouth, the feeling of your tongue running along his shaft too much for him as his breath hitches pathetically. 

“Wait wait wait— oh my god, I’m so— Ah, please don’t stop,” he’s whimpering and babbling at your touch, his hand attempting to pull you off as he nears his release; you only sink further in retaliation, the loud moan that Beomgyu lets out giving you satisfaction as you feel his cum spurting against the back of your throat— your eyes are barely able to catch his expression as he throws his head back, hips stilling entirely as he rides out his orgasm. 

Beomgyu is still trying to catch his breath when he feels his hips bucking subconsciously, the feeling of you pulling away making him whine softly from the sensitivity. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, his glasses skewed and his vision a haze as his gaze meets yours— he’s able to catch the way you swallow, your mouth empty as a teasing grin sneaks onto your face.

His stomach flips at the sight. 

He’s unsure of what to do as you sit up, your hair mused and your clothes in disarray as you take him in with an intense stare— he feels oddly shy as he tugs down his sweater to cover himself, gulping nervously as he begins to wonder if this was all a twisted joke— some sort of childish dare, anything that was meant to humiliate him. 

Instead, he feels you reach forward to fix his glasses, brushing away the hair that was stuck to his forehead as you smiled sweetly; Beomgyu thinks he forgot how to breathe as he takes in your proximity, left frozen as you leave a slow, chaste kiss on his lips. 

“I should go— you have work, right?” The question is enough to snap Beomgyu back to reality, nodding softly as you finally get up from his bed; turning to his mirror, you fix your appearance, brows raising in curiosity as you notice the guitar that’s propped up beside it— you briefly wonder if he’s good at playing it, and find yourself wanting to ask if he can sing; you refrain. “I’ll let you get ready then.”

There’s not much Beomgyu can say as he watches you go to his door like nothing happened; he flinches in surprise as you turn back to him one last time, a grin on your face as you send him one final goodbye. 

“This was fun.” 

Beomgyu is left to decipher your words and intentions as you walk away. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Why did you do that. 

“Oh god, why did I do that?” 

You’re a puddle of embarrassment as you roll around in the back of your driver’s car, your hands plastered on your face as you try to melt away from this reality— instead, the memory of Beomgyu’s flustered and fucked out face is the only thing that meets your eyelids. 

You’re not sure what took over you— what in the world possessed you to fuck your tutor? You knew that if you told your friends you’d never hear the end of it, but you think you might be at risk of losing the only thing that was helping you get your grades up after this. 

It was already difficult to get Beomgyu to agree to be in a room alone with you— and now you had to absolutely fuck up and push the boundaries to a place where you’d never return. 

Out of all the men, it just had to be Choi Beomgyu. It’s a fact that makes your face heat up and your head hit the back of the car seat in defeat as you stare out the window in dismay; instead of going for someone who was in your league, you chose to go after a nobody. 

You didn’t even get anything out of it! The thought is humiliating as you shut your eyes and groan, ignoring the way your driver glances back at you in concern; you sucked his dick and dipped— that is so unlike you. 

Everything about the situation is unlike you— you would never go after someone like Beomgyu, he didn’t align with your type at all! The feeling of dread in your stomach is only worsened as you mentally go through the people you’ve been with in the past, cringing the more you realize how much of an outlier Beomgyu is. 

“Mr. Kim,” you call out, pulling down your shades as you avoid the rays of sunlight that are hitting your face. He’s perking up in response immediately, glancing at you through his mirror before he nods his head to indicate he’s listening. 

“Take me to Hueningkai’s house please,” you say, taking your phone out of your purse as you absentmindedly text Huening that you’re on your way— Mr. Kim’s yes ma’am is left unanswered as you watch Hueningkai respond within seconds— all you can do is sink further in your seat at his eagerness to see you, the implications of his message more than clear to you.

The drive to his home is long and silent, and you’re forced to reflect on yourself the whole way through— the more you do, the more flustered and confused you feel, forcing yourself to set those thoughts to the side as Mr. Kim pulls up to Huening’s driveway.

Yet even as you’re walking to his doorstep, an eager smile forced on your face as you wait for Huening to answer, you can’t help the way your thoughts stray. It all seems to linger on the same subject, gulping nervously at the way Beomgyu’s small whines still ring out in your head. 

“Hey,” Hueningkai smiles, leaning against the doorway as he takes you in; you try to ignore the way his hungry eyes take you in, greeting him softly before you’re pushing past him and going inside, kicking your shoes off at the doorway. 

“What’s up?” Hueningkai immediately asks, noticing the way you don’t indulge in any of his games or teasing, your face blank as you plop down on the couch. “You need something?” 

“No,” you say, oddly defensive as you lay along his couch, crossing your legs as you proceed to do the same with your arms, “Can’t I just chill at your place without needing anything?” 

Hueningkai raises a brow at your huffy comment. Tilting his head, he smiles, a gesture sly and teasing as he watches the way you stand your ground. 

“Well, whenever you come over it’s usually not to just chill,” he says, repeating your words with clear amusement, “so forgive me for thinking something was off.” 

You’re in a bad mood today; Hueningkai is quick to pick up on it as you scoff at his words, looking away from him and pouting as you remain silent. Slowly, he makes his way to you, testing out the waters before he’s sitting down at your feet. 

“What’s wrong baby?” He asks, slowly beginning to hover over you until you can’t help but look at him; he’s everywhere, a holding himself up with a hand by your head while the other finds its way to your hip— playing with the hem of your shirt, slowly teasing you until he’s pushing past and caressing your skin— you flinch at the feeling of his cold hand. 

“Come on, we can talk,” he says, but you know he doesn’t really mean it with the way his leg is trying to pry your thighs open, pressing up against your core as he feels something unexpected— his eyes are lighting up as he smiles down at you, raising a brow as he takes in the small change of your expression. 

“Or maybe you don’t wanna talk?” He says, the surprising heat that meets his thigh is more than welcome as he watches you become flustered under him. 

“Fuck off Huening,” you groan, pressing a hand against his chest as you turn away from him— all you get in return is a dark laugh, his lips ghosting along your jawline as he presses a firm kiss under your ear, his hand pushing your shirt up as it wanders towards your breasts. 

“Hmm, are you sure?” He huffs, adjusting his position so that he’s able to place a hand on your hip, grinding your hips against his thighs as he bites his lip at the sight, “won’t you put those pretty lips to use at least?” 

The irritation that had been brewing inside you is far too much to handle as you scoff at his words, your head snapping back to glare at him as you push against his chest firmly, catching him off guard as you knock him off his balance entirely; he’s knocked out of his lusty reverie as he stares at you with wide eyes from the other end of the couch, lips parting as he attempts to say something, only to be cut off by you. 

“Seriously Huening, I’m not in the fucking mood!” You snap, pulling your top back down harshly before you’re standing up— he’s left to watch in confusion as you readjust yourself, your brows furrowed in a mean frown as you glare at him once more— and to think you thought you’d be able to spend more than five minutes with Hueningkai without him wanting to fuck you. 

“Come on baby, you know I didn’t mean it like that—“ 

“Do you ever think without your dick when you’re around me?” It’s annoying to see how nonchalant Hueningkai is as he laughs off your words, crossing his arms defensively as he tries to play off what just happened. 

“You didn’t even think to check up on me when I was sick!” You thought you were over the bitter moment, but the memory still seems to sting as you remind him of a time where you needed him the most, “ever since we started this whole… stupid friends with benefits thing, you’ve been acting like such a prick!” 

“Don’t be like this,” Hueningkai groans, throwing his head back as he runs a hand through his hair, “you’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh my god!” You bark, left in disbelief as you pace around his apartment, “like seriously, are you listening to yourself right now?!”

You’re more than fed up as you make your way back to the entrance, gathering your things and slipping on your shoes as you hear Hueningkai following close behind, spouting excuses and other nonsense to try and make you stay. 

You’ve opened the door when Hueningkai grabs onto you desperately, tugging you back into his chest and asking you to listen to him as he sets firm hands on your hips; you’re looking at everything but him as you remain silent, your hands pressed defensively against his chest as you give him on last chance to redeem himself. 

“Come on baby, you know I don’t wanna lose you,” he says, his voice soft and vulnerable as he leans in, watching as you tilt your head away from him and continue to refuse to meet his eyes. Feeling him press you harder against him, your jaw clenches as he places a sweet kiss on your cheek. 

“Lemme make it up to you. Please?” 

You know perfectly well what his words entail as you push him away from you once more, swinging your purse and smacking him harshly as you let your anger out on him. He has the audacity to laugh and cower away from you as he apologizes, telling you that it was just a joke as you continue to hit him relentlessly. 

“Fuck you!” You say, out of energy and left a huffing mess as you swing the door open behind you, “asshole!” 

You don’t stay around to see his reaction as you slam the door shut, storming away and walking along the sidewalk as you pull your phone out. 

Pick me up please. 

Huening’s being an asshole, I’m waiting outside. 

It’s moments like these where you regret being irresponsible with your car, left with nothing but your driver as you still wait for your precious baby to come out of the repair shop; to this day your parents still scold you for an accident that happened over a month ago, the words “bad driver” tacked on along with the rest that curate your reputation.  

In a perfect world, Hueningkai would’ve come out by now; he would’ve gone after you, apologizing and hanging his head in shame in regards to his behavior— in a perfect world, he wouldn’t have turned into the person he is now, forgoing your friendship entirely to satiate his needs— you hadn’t given much thought to what the consequences to this “friends with benefits” thing would be, but if you could go back in time to the moment where he drunkenly proposed it to you, you would’ve been quick to shut him down with an incredulous laugh. 

It was your fault for having a soft spot for him. Your fault for wondering what his lips would feel like one too many times, for being caught staring at him back when you were just kids and you were forced to attend dinner parties together, trying and failing to conceal the way he could fluster you with just a single smile. 

Now that his desires have been satiated, you doubt he has any use for you now— which is why you find yourself waiting pathetically outside his apartment, not used to this feeling that festers in your stomach as you wait patiently— whether it’s simply for your driver or for the glimmering hope that Hueningkai will own up to his actions and take you back, you’re not sure.

But what you do know is that you’ve never felt so small. 

Moments later, your driver arrives; you swear you try to hold back, but you can’t help yourself from turning around and taking one last peek at Huening’s quiet, dull apartment— gritting your teeth, you flop inside, groaning obnoxiously as you rub your temples in annoyance; your driver is unfazed by your behavior— meeting his eyes, you sigh. 

“I need to go shopping.”

Wordlessly, he nods— you don’t bother to stare out the window once you finally feel the car moving, in fear that your mind may begin to imagine scenarios that simply won’t happen. 

The car ride is silent, and you realize with a frown that you may have left with a mood worse than before.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

This department store is useless.

Geez, did you piss off some god above or something? Because as you stand in your tenth store in the past hour, nose scrunched and brows furrowed unpleasantly, you feel as though you may be getting karma for something— though what it may be exactly, you’re unsure. 

Everything around you is either already in your closet or simply outdated. Your fingertips tap rhythmically against your crossed arms, eyes narrowed as you take slow strides around the aisles of the stores— a part-time employee follows closely behind you, hands folded neatly and a pleasant smile glued to face as she comments on every item your eyes fall on, even if it’s just for a second; your jaw ticks at her cheap tactics to sell to you. 

There’s only one thing that would make your mood at this time— a limited edition purse you have had your eyes on, trying your best to catch your usual stores at the right times in hopes of getting your hands on it. Yet, with every failed attempt, your frustrations and efforts only grow, and you’ve found yourself visiting these stores more often than you’d like, always leaving with an item or two despite telling yourself not to do so. 

“Excuse me,” you say sternly, your steps coming to a halt as you slowly turn to the employee. She’s meek and her voice is airy as she speaks to you, eyebrows raised as though she seems genuinely interested in what you might say next— her act only displeases you more. 

“I’m trying to shop in peace, please leave me alone.” you say, watching as the woman simply flinches at your comment, smile stiffening on her lips before she’s swiftly apologizing seconds after— if you weren’t careful, you could’ve missed the way her lips turned up with irritation as she turned, muttering quietly to herself as though you weren’t two steps away to hear it.

Rich snob, you pick up, blinking in surprise as you watch her steps becoming hasty with her retreat. You don’t allow yourself to be fazed by it, a smile tugging at your lips from amusement before you turn back around; scanning the store, you glance at the mannequins on display, taking in the outfits briefly before you catch onto something else— and before you can control yourself, you’re walking again. 

Don’t be stupid, your brain tells you, yelling at you as you exit the store with haste, pushing past the people standing around as you make your way to the store across, Don’t do this, this is a bad idea, don’t—

Do it, your heart tells you, pounding against your chest as you adjust the purse strap on your shoulder, gulping slightly as you swing open the door, you’re not here for him, you’re here for the very thing you’ve worked so hard for. 

And if it so happens to be in his hands right now, then is it really your fault that you find yourself standing before the very man that hurt you mere moments ago?

“Cute purse,” you breathe out, eyes glued to the way it shines beautifully under the lights of the store, “Though I don’t really think it’s your style.”

Hueningkai doesn’t bother looking up. He’s too busy handling the limited edition purse that you’ve so desperately been searching for, nimble fingers running over the details as though he were actually taking his time to inspect it; instead, he hums softly at your words, pretending to ponder for a second before he’s frowning. 

“You really think so?” he asks, tsking softly to himself before he’s shaking his head, straightening up before he runs a hand against the surface; you watch the way his fingers slide across the material, teeth tugging at your lip as you fight the twitch of your brows, wanting nothing more than to take the item from his hands and walk away. 

You stand there in silence, for a moment; you wonder slightly if Hueningkai is simply ignoring you, and the idea is enough to have you bristling with anger, your jaw clenching as you decide that it’s better to leave now than to look helpless before him— but he’s looking up at you, lidded eyes catching you in a daze as he tilts his head, sending you his signature charming smile. 

“It wasn’t for me,” he says, looking down at the purse in his hands and holding it close to him, as though gauging its weight, “It was going to be a gift.”

“A gift? Quite the gesture on your part,” you scoff, looking at the display area in exasperation— fuck, the only purse in this awful store is in his hands, you realize— leaving you with no other choice but to hope that he’ll stop playing games and leave the purse he clearly never had any intentions of buying, “But I don’t think those other girls you talk to would be very interested in such a specific item like this— I’d suggest appealing to their own interests a bit more.”

With gritted teeth, you reach out to take the bag; an impulsive move on your part, not exactly surprised with the way Hueningkai immediately backs up and holds the bag close to him. You can practically feel your blood boil from the sheer anger that’s taking over from his antics, unamused entirely at the way he merely sends you an innocent smile. 

“Don’t be rude,” he smiles, taking yet another step back, making more distance between you two, “Who are you to say what they would or wouldn’t like? Plus, I saw this first, and I had full intentions of buying it.”

You remain silent— whether you’re too baffled to speak or are simply trying to not explode and yell at him in the middle of the store, you’re not entirely sure— but, as you watch him raise a brow challengingly, you can only find yourself thinking one thing. 

Fuck this. You’ll just order it online. 

The idea takes away the very joy of being able to find it by chance, but you’d rather die right now than grovel to Hueningkai— like he very clearly wants— in hopes that he’ll take pity on you and give you the purse; spinning on your heels, you make your way out with brisk steps.

You don’t get very far before you hear him calling out your name— but you ignore it, a baffled scoff escaping you in response to his sheer audacity to act so shameless after belittling you a few hours prior; you’re a few steps away from the exit when you feel a tug on your wrist, jolting you back and preventing you from leaving.

“What, Hueningkai?” you say, huffing exasperatedly as you shake off his grip on you, “Can’t you just leave me alone for once? I’m not in the mood to play your stupid games.”

“Well then why don’t you talk to me instead of running away childishly?” he says sharply, and you have to bite your tongue in order to not point out his hilariously hypocritical statement, “you’re acting so weird, what the hell happened?”

You think you might just do something that’ll get you banned from the store— but something catches your eye before you can act out on your impulses, and you’re ripping your wrist from Hueningkai’s hold with one last harsh tug. Your gaze is no longer on him; he tries to follow your line of sight, but fails to catch onto what you’re looking at. 

“Get out or leave me alone,” you say, giving him one last cold look before you’re brushing past him, “I’m not interested in talking to you.”

You’re weaving through the displays and getting out of his sight quickly— and Hueningkai is left with a purse he had no interest in buying, looking down at the item before he scoffs; he throws it off at a random shelf and exits promptly after. 

Your footsteps are haste and your heels click rhythmically on the tiled floor; you’re making your way to the cash register, watching his meek stance and the way he flinches under your gaze, a flush running up the back of his neck and coloring his ears red— but you don’t dare to look away from him, placing a rough hand on the counter and leaning close as you inspect him.

“You didn’t tell me you worked here.”

Beomgyu is attempting to stutter out a weak response; his cheeks are colored and his hair is tied back neatly, and you can see the way his hands twitch, undoubtedly resisting the urge to run a hand through the neat style. 

“Why— why would I tell you? It’s not something you’d need to know. Or– is it…?”

You’ve confused him, that much you’re sure of. His brows have knitted together and he remains flustered beyond belief— you’re sure you can guess what’s running through his mind right now, and you fight the twitch of your lips at the mere thought.

“I thought you worked as a server.”

“I– I do?” he’s tilting his head in confusion, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly, “I have two jobs.”

“Three,” you quip, drumming your nails against the counter rhythmically, “you tutor.”

“I… guess…?” Beomgyu says, fighting back the urge to correct you that he really doesn’t— you’re the only one he’s ever tutored before.

“Why would you need to work three jobs? How do you get the time for this?” you don’t really know why you’re pestering Beomgyu about this so much— but you’re also fascinated by it, now beginning to understand where Beomgyu’s lack of social life stems from. 

He’s unsure of how to answer your question again; you don’t seem to be particularly patient today, (but then again, when are you?) so you’re waving him off with a dismissive swat of your hand, shaking your head and clicking your tongue before you’re changing the subject; Beomgyu is left to watch as you pull your phone out, scrolling on it for a bit before you’re placing it on the counter and spinning it around for him to see— his eyes are narrowing in concentration as he takes in the picture.

“This purse,” you say slowly, tapping your nail on your phone screen, as though Beomgyu wasn’t currently looking at it, “do you have it in stock? This guy already got one, but I need to know if you have others— I’ve got to have it.” 

The urgency in your voice is a bit surprising to Beomgyu— he takes in your expression, solemn and a bit scary, and gulps— then he watches the way you melt in relief the moment he nods hesitantly. 

“I’m sure we just got a shipment in today— we, haven’t really, uhm, stocked up properly yet,” he stutters, wincing slightly at the sound while you remain unfazed; your brows lift expectantly, and he’s snapping out his daze and sending you a shaky smile, “I’ll go check.” 

He scurries out of your sight and into the employee door quicker than you can process— and when he turns around to take a peek at the small window, he finds you leaning on the counter and on your phone— probably texting, judging by the way your thumbs fly by on the screen— and he feels another heat of shame wash over him, his head spinning and his legs turning into jello. 

How can you act so casually? He wonders, glasses slipping down just a bit farther down his nose, nimble fingers pushing it back up with ease, like you weren’t just in his bedroom a few hours prior… like he wasn’t under you… 

Beomgyu practically jumps the moment your eyes flicker up and meet his; you simply smile, glossed lips stretching slowly before you give him a wink. 

In response, he spins around and begins to actually look— his heart hammers in his chest.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

So pretty. 

So perfect and smooth to the touch, cool under your fingertips— you take your time to feel, to trace over every detail, intricate and crafted by the gods as you let out a shaky sigh— your eyes meet Beomgyu’s, and you have half the mind to feel a bit sheepish, retracting your hand quickly and returning to a socially acceptable state of mind. 

“Sorry,” you say, beaming at him before you’re reaching into your current bag and handing him your card; his eyes widen comically at the smooth black plastic you place in his hold carelessly, “It’s just… all I could ever ask for. I can’t believe I finally have my hands on this…” 

Meanwhile, Beomgyu rings up your inexplicably expensive item, swiping your card and watching the way you don’t even flinch at the sum that shows up; he feels a bit jealous at your nonchalance. 

You’re carrying the purse like it were a baby; it isn’t until Beomgyu offers to bag it for you that you finally let it go, placing it gently on the counter and smiling fondly as you watch Beomgyu place it carefully in the equally luxurious gift bag, placing filler paper on top and handing it back to you, his movement practiced and calculated as he says his usual lines— his mind is running on autopilot once more, but you’re particularly eager to break him out of it as you reach out to take the bag from him, warm hand wrapping around his and tugging him slightly towards you. 

“Thank you for all your help today,” you purr, shining lips stretching into a coy smile, leaning against the counter and watching as he gulps, adam's apple bobbing, “I think I’ll do well on our upcoming quiz— you’re such a good tutor.”

You don’t bother to stick around after that; your steps are brisk and you’re hugging the purchase close to your body, as though someone were after it and ready to take it, confidence in your step as you exit the store— Beomgyu, on the other hand, practically crumbles the moment you’re out of sight, fingers turning white from how hard he grips onto the edge of the counter; his heart pounds and the sound of blood rushing fills his ears, mind inevitably going back to your teasing action before he’s flustering again. 

You’re laughing to yourself the whole ride home— his reaction plays on your mind like a loop, beyond amused by the sight as you pat yourself on the back for being able to come up with something so clever on the spot. 

What you don’t realize, however, is that there are consequences to your actions— consequences that are far beyond your control.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

“Are you for real?”

“Uh-huh,” you grin, placing a fond hand on your cheek and batting your eyes at Yunjin, “totally aced it.” 

“That’s something I never thought I’d hear from you,” your friend says, poking her fork at her salad before taking a bite; she furrows her brows as she takes in your expression, mouth agape and eyes wide, as though you were offended. “What? It’s true.”

“Okay, first off— I’m not stupid, just lazy,” you clarify, pointing an accusing finger at your friend as you pout, “and second of all, you should really believe in your friend a little more.”

“I mean, it was a little hard to when all you would do was skip classes and go shopping instead,” Yunjin says, raising a challenging brow when you open your mouth to refute her claims— then proceed to promptly close it again, finding that you really can’t deny that— and a small smile tugs at her lips, the kind that lets you know that she’s about to say something really annoying, “but I guess your study sessions with your little boy toy really did work.” 

“Boy—?!” you’re in the middle of taking a sip from your iced coffee when she says that, the straw slipping from your mouth and a bit of the liquid escaping from the sheer surprise of her comment— you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling a slight heat rush to your face as you stare at her incredulously, “boy toy?” 

“I mean, am I wrong?” Yunjin challenges, tilting her head in curiosity while you simply try to deny her claims, “you were literally just telling me about the way you had him wrapped around your finger a while ago—”

“Not like that though!” you huff, feeling worked up from the mere idea of Yunjin finding out the complete and utterly stupid slip up you had a while ago, “god, he’s literally such a fucking loser, don’t try to pair me up with him— other people might get the wrong idea. It’s already bad enough that I had to get a tutor, because it’s not like I was doing bad in my classes until recently. I mean, it’s still my fault and I did let myself go, but I didn’t think I’d have to stoop so low! And now I have to take so much time out of my day to spend my time studying with him and even worse, you’re trying to insinuate something that definitely isn’t true—!”

“Yes! Okay! Enough of that please!” Yunjin says exasperatedly, glancing over your shoulder briefly before she’s taking another bite of her salad, muttering something about you having a motor mouth, “god, it’s just that… people have seen you two together a lot, you know? And with the way he’s looking over at you right now, anyone would think that he’s like… in love with you, or something.” 

You’re sitting up straight and whirling around at that; following Yunjin’s previous line of sight, you’re able to pinpoint the said boy immediately— sitting a few tables away, catching him staring at you over his laptop, clearly distracted from his work— the moment your eyes meet, he flinches, hunching down so the screen hides him; it doesn’t work very well, and you’re able to see his downcast eyes and reddening face with ease. 

Oh my god, you think with horror, a cold wave washing over you as you stare at him longer— and after a few seconds, he’s peeking back up from his screen, meeting your eyes once more and scrambling to hide unsuccessfully yet again. You decide to turn back around before anyone else around you catches on to this interaction. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, meeting Yunjin’s gaze as she simply nods at you, her face screaming I told you so, “how long has he been there?” 

“Like… basically this whole time,” Yunjin says casually, not fazed in the slightest by your horrified expression, “been staring at you for a while too.”

“Ugh, gross,” you groan, throwing your head back in defeat and staring up at the ceiling with a frown, “I think I might’ve gotten his hopes up too much.”

“C’mon, go easy on him,” Yunjin teases— your head is straightening up to look at her again, but a single glance is enough to tell you she merely finds this situation amusing, “it’s probably his first time properly interacting with a woman.”

“That’s even worse,” you mourn, slumping down and placing your head in your hands; a sudden reminder of your schedule is popping back into your head, and your peeking through your fingers in dismay as you relay the information to your friend, “and I have a study session with him today too.” 

“Aww!” she coos, clearly having a blast as she grins, glancing behind you and undoubtedly at Beomgyu once more, “I’m sure he just can’t wait to see you again.”

“God, please shut up,” you whine petulantly, but your friend brushes off your pleas with a mischievous smile, “you’re making me wanna throw up.”

“What, you gonna cancel then?” 

Silence. Any other day, you would’ve immediately jumped to say yes, pulling out your phone to text him and bailing like it was nothing. But today, you find yourself oddly reluctant to say this three letter word, unsure of why the answer is difficult to voice before you finally give in to the truth— your head slumps with defeat and you’re too ashamed to look Yunjin in the eyes.

“No.”

“Oh wow,” you hear her say, still blatantly teasing you as she laughs giddily— you don’t bother to react at this point, choosing to ignore the unspoken question of why you’re not ditching him this time.

“Hope you have fun,” she muses, taking one last glance behind you before she’s giggling to herself, “try to go easy on him, m’kay?”

Fuck, this was so embarrassing. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Today, you’ve changed up your meeting spot quite a bit; Beomgyu was thoroughly surprised when you asked him to study later on in the day, in a more secluded area on the upper levels of the library, telling him to pick a table and wait for you to get there after— usually, you tried to make your meetups as convenient for you as possible, choosing places that you could easily flee from. 

When you finally come into his line of sight, Beomgyu frowns. You carry your bag with you, along with a troubled expression and tense posture, glancing around you continuously even if there was no one around, even if the table was hidden behind bookshelves— as though you were afraid of getting caught for something. 

You’re dumping your things onto the table unceremoniously— and instead of taking your spot across from Beomgyu like always, you’re sitting next to him, catching him off guard and missing the way he tenses at the action— you’re scooting your chair closer to him and filling his senses with your scent, making him gulp thickly as he tries to not let his mind wander off; he realizes with dread that it’s really not working. 

Beomgyu is a stuttering mess today; you pick up on it with ease, frowning at the way he continues to blunder through his explanations and having to repeat things to you multiple times, hands shakier than usual as he points out certain things in the text before he’s relating it back to the assignment. 

“That— that’s one of the things the… the uhm, the professor said would be important to remember,” Beomgyu stutters, feeling his body heat up at the way you raise your brows at the sound of his cracking and meek voice. With one glimpse at your (clearly) judgemental and demeaning expression that you didn’t even bother to hide, Beomgyu is scrambling to get his act together. 

It works, for a while; the two of you are left in silence as you work on the homework your professor assigned to you, and you remain unfazed at the feeling of Beomgyu catching glimpses at you from time to time; whether that be to look at what you had written down or simply to look at you, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. 

You’re snapped out of zone of concentration at the sound of rustling; a peek from your peripheral vision allows you to watch as Beomgyu has now begun to dig through his bag, wondering what he could be up to; with a roll of your eyes, you’re focusing back to the question you were working on, not bothering to glance back again even once the rustling has ceased. 

Without warning, something is placed gingerly on the open surface of your textbook; you’re blinking in surprise before you’re registering what it is that has been put before you, brows knitting together as you wonder how you should react.

It’s a… mini paper flower bouquet. 

You’re staring at the item for a solid few seconds before you slowly turn to look at the culprit. Beomgyu meets your intense gaze the best he can, putting up a confident front and fighting back the heat that threatens to engulf his face. 

“Y–You— I heard you did well on your test.” He says, glasses slipping down his nose and bangs falling into his eyes, gaze flickering away for a split second before he wills himself to look at you again. Your stare is dead and unreadable.

“I never told you that.” 

Beomgyu is losing this battle, his confidence visibly wilting away as his cheeks begin to get dusted with pink. His eyes are wide like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to respond as you give him a look that is expecting an explanation— his cheeks are now a bright red. 

Even without his explanation, you both know how he got a hold of this news— and you’re thinking back to Yunjin’s teasing, the fear of being seen with him during today’s study session, and the flustered boy in front of you— and your mouth is running faster than you can stop it.

“Choi Beomgyu, do you like me?” 

If the floor around you was already quiet before, it’s dead silent now; you’re even able to pick up on the stuttered breath Beomgyu lets out, his eyes growing comically wide as he simply stares at you; almost as though he couldn’t believe what you just asked of him. 

“Actually, don’t even answer that,” you wave him off, choosing to ignore the way this seems to spring him into action, stuttering and failing to put together a proper sentence to tell you that no, he definitely doesn’t— you just caught him off guard! 

But it’s not like you would believe him anyway, with the way he remains flustered long after you asked the question, unable to even look your way for the rest of the session, staring straight at the textbook and nowhere else whenever you would ask him a question— after a while, you begin to tire of his behavior. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” you call out again, soft and dangerous as you turn to face him— he was attempting to explain a question to you, words dying on his tongue as he took in your sudden proximity— leaning in toward him, you tilt your head as you observe his reaction, watching the way his lips press together and his adam's apple bobs as he gulps softly; his puppy-like eyes shine as he waits for you to say something.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, your voice beginning to dip into that coy lilt that you’ve used on him only one other time— and that’s enough to have Beomgyu’s mind spinning, the poor boy thinking thoughts that he’s tried to suppress this whole time— your affect on him is beginning to show once more. 

“You look a little…” your eyes flicker down beneath the table, a smile tugging at your lips before you’re looking back into the boy's eyes; catching where you were looking, Beomgyu can’t help but tug his sweater over his lap in embarrassment. 

You’re leaning even closer now— your breath is fanning against the shell of his ear, the boy’s face practically on fire as his hands remain clenched and tense on his lap— he’s practically a statue due to your proximity. 

“Distracted.” 

Your hands are mischievous; curious, setting your pencil down carefully before they begin to wander, sliding across the table before it falls off the edge, nails scratching at the wool material of Beomgyu’s sweater before it lands on top of his hand that covers his lap— you grin at the choked breath of surprise he lets out from the simple touch. 

“What— what, what are y–you—?” Beomgyu is about to bite through his lip at this rate, eyes wide and panicked as he watches your hand push his away, taking in the bulge in his pants as a flush of shame rises up his neck; you’ve caught him, but you don’t seem to be fazed in the slightest as you’re cupping him gently, looking up at him with doe eyes and lashes that flutter innocently— he thinks his heart might just explode from how quickly it’s pounding. 

“Wait, wait wait— we’re in— other people might—” he’s tripping over his words, saying so much yet nothing at all, but the way his eyes skirt over the perimeter is enough to tell you what he’s thinking— yet all you see are bookshelves that surround and hide you well— beneath the warmth of your hand that has yet to move, you can feel Beomgyu hardening within seconds. 

“It’s late. There’s no one else here right now,” you say sweetly, too sweet, a bit patronizing as you lean in close and coo the words directly into his ear— you’re brushing back his long hair with a gentle hand, tucking it behind his ears that he always seems to hide; they’re a pitiful bright red and decorated with silver piercings, absentmindedly caressing along his jaw with the back of your hand; his eyes flutter shut at the tender action, along with the feeling of your hand finally beginning to rock against his cock gently— and he melts into the chair, like putty in your hands as you watch his shoulders slump and cave into himself, his head hang at the stimulation; you’ve barely done anything, yet he’s already a mess— the sight surprises you.

“Go ahead,” you continue softly, hand cupping his jaw and cradling it carefully, attempting to get him to look at you again— and he follows your commands effortlessly, pretty eyes fluttering open and his head turning at the gentle push of your hand— and he’s looking at you with glassy, wide eyes, cheeks flushed pink and mouth parted as his eyes begin to flutter shut again— and your thumb is rubbing soothing circles along his cheekbone teasingly, leaning in slightly to whisper again, close enough that he can feel your breath fanning against the tip of his nose, “Puppy, look at me.”

He follows your command in a heartbeat; he’s met with another of your sickeningly sweet smiles, deceiving and comforting all at the same time. 

“Go ahead now puppy,” you murmur, any movements of your hand ceasing entirely as you watch him with eager eyes, watching the way he seems to sober up at the loss of your touch, “take my hand off— c’mon, take it off if you really want to.”

A moment passes— he really should be taking your hand off, shouldn’t he? But his mind is clouded now and you look so pretty under the warm library lights, pristine and perfect as always, glossy lips and lidded eyes encouraging him with a deceivingly fond look— but Beomgyu loves it, and he loves the way you laugh mockingly at him, unable to control the way he whines petulantly and shakes his head, giving you your answer by thrusting his aching cock into your hand desperately.

“Good boy,” you utter absentmindedly, a compliment that makes Beomgyu’s hips stutter as you finally begin to inch up his bulge, careful fingers making quick work to undo his pants— and with one last glance at the deserted area around you, you’re slipping your hand inside and past the tight waistband of his boxers. 

“Haah—!” Beomgyu is slapping a hand over his mouth and beating you to it, eyes wide and face even more flushed than before as he stares down at the way your hand disappears beneath the material of his boxers, expertly wrapping around his length and slowly beginning to jerk him off underneath the table. 

You don’t seem to be worked up by any of this at all; your eyes are lidded with a slight boredom, a tiredness he’s seen at every one of your study sessions, watching the way you turn back to your homework and begin reading the instructions, hand still working expertly at his length as you do; Beomgyu has to press another hand firmly against his mouth the moment your thumb is swiping over his tip, collecting the constant arousal that collects there and using it as lube— you don’t even bat an eye at him during all this. 

After a few minutes, you’re able to hear the slick sounds of your hand working against his cock effortlessly; the poor boy is aroused and leaking beyond belief, now sporting a wet patch against his pants that you seem to be dead-set on worsening— your pace is picking up and you don’t bother to glance at Beomgyu to check up on him, though you also don’t bother to hide the way your lips quirk in amusement at the sight of him trying (and failing) to keep his composure. 

“M–mmh, agh— close, s’close…” Beomgyu stutters out pathetically, bucking his hips up messily and turning back into that desperate and rambly mess from the first time you sucked him off; his voice is deep and breathy as he whispers out these pleas to you, begs to not stop, to go faster, to—

“Beomgyu,” you whisper coyly, using this chance to finally put your plan into action, “Beomgyu baby, d’you wanna cum? Hmm? Want me to make you feel good?”

He’s nodding thoughtlessly; of course he’s nodding, his mind has gone blank and there’s nothing else in there that seems to make sense except for the way your warm hand wraps around his cock so perfectly, unable to stop the choked whines he lets out every time he feels you squeeze him teasingly. 

“Then you gotta do something for me, okay pup?”  you coo out, making sure to use the nickname you know he loves so much— he lets out a choked whimper at the sound, brows knit tightly together and hair falling in front of his face with the way he hangs his head— and you’re leaning in close to him again, breath fanning on his skin and your palm slapping his cheek softly, tapping at it to get his attention; it works like a charm, and his glassy eyes are meeting yours once more. “Puppy, are you listening?”

“I’m—” his words get cut off by a weak whine, feeling your hand tighten teasingly around him, “I’m listening— I’m listening.” 

“Good,” you coo out, feeling the way his hips buck and he starts becoming restless, “now if you wanna cum, you gotta promise me something, okay?” 

Anything, anything for you, he breathes out absentmindedly, and you’re sure he has no idea what he’s even agreeing to at this point. 

“Don’t act like you know me when we’re in public,” you say sweetly, muddling his mind by increasing your pace, by doing exactly what you’ve noted makes him squirm and cry the most, “I don’t know you, you don’t know me— we’re strangers.” 

You notice the way his face is twisting up in confusion; his mouth is parting and he’s fighting to say something, to ask why— but you’re not giving him a chance to, brushing his hair back and cupping his face, turning him to look at you and digging your nails into his cheeks to get him to meet your eyes; through the intense pleasure you give him, you can still see the hurt that swims within. You let out a soft coo at the pathetic sight.

“Come on, promise me, okay?” you pout, “you’re a good boy, right? You’ll keep your promise?” 

His hips are stuttering and fucking into your fist again; you’ve got him pinned down precisely. Any coherent thought is fading out of Beomgyu’s mind and the only thing he’s concerned himself with is his impending orgasm, the feeling of pleasure that is only heightened with every string of praise you say to him. 

“Be a good little puppy and say you’ll promise me,” you say, thumb swiping over his bottom lip before you’re pulling at it, dark eyes observing the way he melts before your touch and finally gives in— he’s nodding, you’ve got him right where you want him, and all you needed was a little bit of mindless praise. “c’mon, say it, say it and you can cum.”

“I promise,” he breathes out, whiny and high pitched and strained, as though speaking was a challenge for him, “I’ll do anything, please— pleasepleaseplease, let me cum, I’ll— I promise.”

“There we go baby,” you hum in approval, pressing a peck to his pouting lips and taking in the way his waterline is filled with tears that hang precariously, “such a good boy— my good boy.”

His hips stutter, rising off the seat, and you’re feeling warm spurts of cum land on your skin. His mouth is falling open and you’re sure he might just let out a loud noise, so before you can think twice, you’re pulling his face close to you and smashing your lips against his; he whines weakly into mouth, and you’re swallowing it greedily, kissing him languidly and guiding him through his high with praise that makes his breath stutter and his knees weak. 

You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and good.

It takes a while before Beomgyu is finally coming to his senses. He’s panting softly against your mouth, lips swollen and bitten at, his cock sensitive as the feeling of you continuing to pump him slowly suddenly becomes too much; with a shaky hand, he presses against your shoulder and attempts to signal you to stop. You’re pulling away immediately. 

Beomgyu looks, for lack of a better term, absolutely destroyed. His face is flushed and his eyes are droopy with exhaustion, hair mussed and messy and his clothes in complete disarray; you look down, and you’re wincing in half amusement and half pity at the sight of the wet spot against Beomgyu’s jeans. He’s following your gaze, and if he could turn any redder, you’re sure he definitely would’ve; his ears burn. 

Your hand is messy; his cum is still coated on your skin, sticky and incriminating as it sticks to your fingers and pools in between, a grimace twisting your face into a look of dismay as you stare down at the mess— before you can even think of what to do about it, Beomgyu is handing you a tissue. 

His hand is shaky as he extends it out to you; your gaze is snapping up to meet his, only you’ve found that he can’t look at you at all— it seems as though the fog in his mind has already subsided and he’s realized what you’ve asked of him, lips pressed together and face still flushed as you finally take it from him. He turns away from you immediately, pulling his sweater over his lap and staring down at the disarray of textbooks and notebooks before him. 

The silence is suddenly unbearable. You feel awkward as you wipe at your skin, even more so when you’re stuck with nothing but a soiled tissue and a hand that’s still undeniably dirty, the tension between you two now growing tenfold by the second as you finally decide that you should probably just go— it’s not like he’d be surprised by it anyway. 

You’re opening your mouth to excuse yourself— to ignore the elephant in the room, to simply run away with a coy smile like you always do— but Beomgyu is beating you to the punch, and you can’t even hide the startled flinch your body does as he stands and begins to pack up hastily, shoving his materials into his book bag without a second glance to see if everything is perfectly aligned and neat.

You can only sit there and watch; it’s clear that your words seem to have gotten to him, and though you were expecting the awkwardness that would stem from it, you didn’t expect Beomgyu to be upset; your mind races to find reasons why, to try and wrap your head around why he would be feeling this way. 

“I asked the professor how you were doing in the class, since you never seem to want to tell me,” Beomgyu finally says, breaking the tension and adjusting the materials in his bag to be just the way he likes it; he zips his bag shut in one aggressive swoop, and you can’t help the surprise on your face when he sends you a harsh glare. 

“He says you’ve been improving greatly; said you were a good student from the very start, that you only needed to catch up on the materials.” he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder, pushing the chair in and taking a step back from your dumbfounded figure, “so it looks to me that you achieved your goal with our sessions.”

A moment passes— and your eyes widen slightly, catching on to what he’s trying to tell you, finding that you really want to deny the professor’s claims, even if they are true. But your pride impedes you from uttering a single word, knowing that it would kill you to try and coax Beomgyu to stay with you, to keep these study sessions going— and through this sudden urge, you catch yourself wondering why you would even want this to continue.

“I’m glad my help seemed to work— but it seems that you don’t even need it anymore,” Beomgyu finalizes what he needed to say, and you can see the way his shoulders practically sag from the relief of getting his thoughts across; his hand goes to tug his oversized sweater down, completely covering his lap and the mess you left— he grimaces softly. 

“What? So that’s it?” is all you can say, watching his face harden at your words, “Just like that? What about me?”

His face twists up in anger— your words have struck a nerve, and suddenly, he’s remembering why no one wanted to tutor you in the first place. 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” is all he says, taking another step back and increasing the distance between you two, “anyone would be willing to tutor you with the rate you like to offer.”

You both know what he really wants to say— just use your money on someone else to get what you want, like you always do. You find that you can’t really say anything to that. You remain silent.

Beomgyu turns around, and leaves; he doesn’t bother to say goodbye, and you’re left to watch his retreating figure, the hastiness of his pace and the way he continuously tugs his oversized sweater down over and over, even if it doesn’t move an inch. 

That’s it, you tell yourself, leaning back against your chair, staring down at the display before you, at the notes you were actually taking, the work you were finally doing, you finally got what you wanted. 

After a moment, the seat next to you is feeling a lot emptier than it did seconds ago; the room feels endless, as though you were left alone in this lonely labyrinth. Beomgyu’s words echo in your head, and you frown. 

Is this what you wanted?

 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu has kept his promise well; you haven’t seen him in weeks. 

Not around campus, not around the dining halls, not even in the library, a place you’ve found yourself actually attending regularly— not even in the only class you shared— and it seems as though he’s vanished off the face of the Earth. 

You’ve found yourself thinking about him more often than you’d like; wondering if he’s okay, if he’s off at one of his many jobs again, if he’s resting— it makes you shiver with disgust every time you catch yourself, grimacing at the idea that you would even find yourself worried about him— and while you tell yourself that you’ve finally gotten rid of one of your biggest burdens, you can still feel the nagging feeling to talk to him every time you see his contact in your phone.

“Did you finally get him off your trail?” Yunjin asks you one day, when you’re busy checking the due dates for this week’s assignments online, making a mental schedule of what to work on first as you leave your food untouched; her words are snapping you out of your trance, looking up at her with a gaze that screams I wasn’t listening, what? 

“Your little plaything— the loser guy?” she drawls, watching your face carefully, taking your small reaction as a sign that you’ve caught on, “did you finally shake him off?” 

“I— yeah, I did,” you say apathetically, letting out a soft tsk as you’re looking back at your laptop, “finally.”

“Wow, look at you,” Yunjin awes, seeing the way your brows furrowed in concentration and you have yet to eat, too immersed in your course load to roll your eyes at her clear, mocking tone, “looks like he really did a number on you— I didn’t know you used your laptop for anything other than shopping.”

“Yunjin, come on,” you sigh, jaw clenching as you suddenly don’t find yourself in the mood for her teasing, “I mean, I know I’ve been slacking really bad recently, but you know that’s not true.”

She doesn’t seem to take you seriously— then again, no one ever really does, a constant in your life that makes you jaw tick and your eyes mentally roll— and she laughs, shaking her head and pouting as though you were a thing to be pitied. You wonder how much of this is supposed to be friendly teasing. 

“Yeah sure,” she sighs, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand and leaning over to look at your screen, “Don’t work too hard though, it might hurt your brain.”

You ignore her comment; Yunjin doesn’t seem to care about your silence, doesn’t bother to gauge your reaction as she continues to poke at yet another of her salads, pushing the contents around with her fork in boredom as she speaks up again. 

“You know, hopefully he has the same effect on me.”

This gets your attention immediately. Yunjin is looking at you with surprised eyes that feign innocence, raising a confused brow at your narrowed eyes. 

“What do you mean by that,” you ask slowly, attempting to keep your tone indifferent as you speak.

Yunjin shrugs, as though what she was about to tell you next wasn’t of any importance— and it really shouldn’t be, but you still can’t ignore the way it makes your body feel like you’ve been shocked with a wave of electricity. 

“I mean, your little tutor seemed to be such a good influence so…” she stabs at her salad lazily, bringing up the fork to her lips before she’s sending you a small smile. “I thought I’d give him a try.” 

You bristle quite visibly at that; your mind is running a million miles an hour, wondering where this sudden idea is coming from, being friends with Yunjin for longer than you can remember as your mouth begins to run before you can stop it. 

“You said your parents have tried to set you up with multiple tutors— the best in the country,” you say, brows knitted together as Yunjin simply shrugs her shoulders, raising her brows as if to say and? “You said you’d rather die than to get tutored— you said it was a waste of time.”

“Yeah… but…” Yunjin shrugs again, and you wonder how much of this is just an impulse from her as she continues, “I don’t know, my parents are on my ass again about giving me a tutor, and I don’t wanna deal with all those stuck up pricks they send to me.”

She admits her true motives with her next words. 

“And I don’t know… he’s kinda cute?” she says, laughing like a schoolgirl who was embarrassed to admit a crush, “In like, a pathetic kinda way— and now that he’s done tutoring you, I’m sure he has a slot that opened up.”

Your mind is spiraling with things to say to her; you want to tell her to stay away from Beomgyu, to not try to mess with him— tell her that he’s a loser that isn’t worth her time, a nerd with an obsession with a lame game and the owner of a creepy bird— but you catch yourself, biting your tongue and taking in the way Yunjin simply looks at you expectantly; as though waiting for your embarrassing outburst, you realize.

With a scoff, you’re slamming your laptop shut— Yunjin flinches in surprise. 

“I’m sure one did— I’m leaving,” is all you say, knowing that nothing would change, even if you tried anything. Yunjin scrambles to try to get you to stay, but all attempts fall short— you tell her there’s an exam you need to study for, and she sighs in defeat. 

“You’re coming to the party this Saturday, at least?” she says, clearly annoyed at your sudden sensitivity, at your sudden change in attitude, “you promised you would.”

Your mind is attempting to remember what she could be talking about— then you’re finally remembering the event she spontaneously planned a few weeks back, telling you that she hasn’t seen everyone together in one place in so long— and while you found yourself agreeing excitedly back then, you don’t have much energy to do so now. But Yunjin is staring at you expectantly, raising a brow at your silence, and you find that there’s really not much of a choice for you. (There is, but you know there’d be consequences if you chose wrong.)

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Perfect!” she beams, eyes crinkling and her hands clasping together happily, as though there was no previous tension between you at all mere moments before, “I’ll see you then.” 

You merely nod, turning around and taking your food to the nearest trash can— you weren’t really hungry, anyway. 

You can feel Yunjin’s eyes pinpointed on you the whole way out. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’ve always loved parties. 

You loved to dress up, make yourself look pretty and catch the eyes of everyone with your pretty dresses and makeup done to perfection; loved the attention that came with it, the way you could let loose for once and not worry about your image, drinking and feeling your body become loose, mind finally being allowed to forget about any worries you had. 

You were known to be a social butterfly; the pretty airhead that couldn’t stop talking once you got her started— always the life of the party, never one to cling to the wall and stare at the dance floor wistfully. 

Standing before the beach house of Yunjin’s parents, one they didn’t use as much as they once did when Yunjin was only a little girl with an affinity to the sea, you begin to wonder where that part of you has gone. 

You feel dreadfully out of place. You haven’t even gone inside yet. 

Music is blasting and the windows are dark, save for the bright neon lights that come from an unknown source; Yunjin has always been a sucker for that club vibe, anyway. You want to go in, want to walk inside and pretend like it’s nothing, but this time, you can only stand at the bottom of the steps and tug your dress down a little more. You feel like a prude. 

Deep breaths, you tell yourself— one in, one out, your chest rising and falling slowly as you  try calm your racing pulse— and with a silent okay of reassurance to yourself, you will your body to begin its trek up the steps. 

The door is unlocked; it’s not like you needed to knock to get in, anyway— only those with an invite even knew this party was happening. The place isn’t packed— nor is it meant to be— but it’s a bit crowded at least, filled with familiar faces for the most part; all people you grew up with or around, sons and daughters of influential families that grew to be nothing but partiers and troublemakers. In other words, your usual crowd. 

There are some exceptions to these guests, however. People you’ve seen around campus, student athletes with a scholarship and business majors that have already found themselves internships to the companies others in the room are a part of— and it seems that no matter how much everyone here tries to pretend and deny, they can never really separate their personal lives from the responsibilities passed down to them at birth. 

Your first instinct is to beeline it to the kitchen; in other words, to the makeshift bar Yunjin always sets up, an impressive display of alcohol and even a hired bartender making drinks left and right— you immediately ask for two jello shots, something Yunjin always made for herself and in extension, you, not in the mood for anything stronger as you opt to get this nervous energy out of you instead; you proceed to get two more a second after, just out of habit.

You should find Yunjin; let her know you’re here, make sure she doesn’t try to scold and bitch at you for promising to go to her party only to end up ditching— you’re sure she’d never believe you unless she saw you with her own eyes. 

The kitchen is empty. The makeshift dance floor seems to be empty as well, spending a few minutes scouring the place and shrugging off any passing advances; with a heavy sigh, you decide that you should check upstairs, just in case, ready to make your way up before a rough hand is grabbing at your elbow and tugging you back; the smell of alcohol greets you before Yunjin can. 

“You actually came!” Yunjin yells over the music, her face flushed from the alcohol and her balance off as she stumbles slightly; you make a quick move to catch her, eyes drifting down before you’re catching sight of the uncomfortable heels she dons— meeting her gaze once more, she pouts. 

“I don’t even know why I wore these,” she groans, running a hand through her auburn hair, watching the way it falls back into place perfectly— she then proceeds to scan over your own outfit, letting out a sound of awe as she smiles, “you look great! Pretty as always.”

She’s muttering something else, but you can’t really hear it over the sound of the music; eventually, you find your eyes drifting away to the dancefloor, wondering if there’s anyone else you could recognize— your eyes lock with a particular, infamous athlete’s, one that you’ve been dying to get with since the beginning of the semester— and you’re suddenly thankful for the buzz the jello shots provided you, Yunjin eventually following your gaze and cheering at the realization of what you were planning. 

She’s pushing you forward before you can even think things through; the man with dark hair simply smiles at you, coy eyes beckoning you closer— and with a deep breath, you decide to let go of any worries you had and go back to being your airheaded, carefree self— even if just for a moment. 

“Hey,” he says simply, a hand going to rest on your waist; the music is much too loud for you to converse properly, but you don’t really seem to mind as you allow yourself to get lost in the rhythm instead— that, and because your tipsy brain has forgotten his name, and the low lights that obscure his face aren’t exactly helping either. 

But it seems as though he was thinking the exact thing; he’s leaning down to ask the exact question you were wondering into your ear, deep voice and pouty lips that brush against the shell of your ear making you shiver— you’re muttering your name into his ear, tilting your head toward him to allow him to do the same.

Yeonjun. Your head seems to clear for the moment. 

“Looks like we finally meet,” he grins, still close to your face in order for you to be able to hear him; your face twists up in confusion, and he laughs softly before continuing. “You’re just as pretty as I’ve been told— my friend talks a lot about you. You’re trouble, hmm?”

“Your friend?” is all you can say in response, placing a hand against his chest and leaning in closer, the music muddling his words slightly; his hand continues to hold you steady, and the two of you continue to sway to the rhythm. 

“Yeah,” he laughs, staring at your face that’s twisted up in obvious confusion, “My roommate, Beomgyu? I heard he tutored you for a bit.”

His name is enough to clear your head entirely, as though a bucket of ice water has been poured over your body and drenched your figure. 

“He— he told you about me?” you ask, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so pathetic, for feeling so curious as you stare at Yeonjun with undeniably hopeful eyes; instead, all you get is another amused laugh from him. 

“Are you kidding? You practically traumatized him!” he jokes, though you don’t find yourself laughing along to that, lips twitching and a frown threatening to take over your features, “You’d think he was scared of you from the way he talked about you.”

You don’t respond to that; you’re not sure how you would respond to that anyway, letting out a weak laugh and falling silent as you look over his shoulder and fall back into the beat of the song— but it seems as though Yeonjun is too drunk, and frankly, unaware to take in your reaction, because he’s leaning into your ear and murmuring words that strike the final blow into your heart.

“He’s here, actually— Yunjin and him really seem to be hitting it off. Didn’t think he had it in him”

You chose to bite your tongue, biting back a bitter comment about how he really doesn’t have it in him to woo someone like Yunjin. But Yeonjun is too amused by his own comment to pick up on the sudden sourness of your mood, mouthing the lyrics to whatever’s playing and guiding your hips with a hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he sends you a wink. But you’re too shaken by this sudden news that you no longer feel the need to play along, much less try to hook up with him tonight. Now that you think about it, the once superficially important goal of chasing after the athlete before you had been pushed down the list of your priorities long, long ago. 

“‘M gonna get a drink,” you mutter miserably, pushing against Yeonjun’s chest and ignoring the way he immediately begins to complain, untangling yourself from his grip as you leave with one final, half-hearted sorry!

Screw jello-shots, you think to yourself, stumbling back to the kitchen with sore feet, I need something stronger. 

Something stronger comes in the form of a mysterious drink you let the bartender make for you; you didn’t exactly keep track of the ingredients he listed off to you, simply nodding instead when he asked if that’s what you wanted— if you think it’s strong enough, you replied with a smile, choosing to ignore the hesitant nod he gave you in return. 

The speed at which you downed the drink was enough to have the bartender at your side with a water and a warning look— you ignored it, of course, drinking the water with a slight pout, only bothering to drink half before you were back to the dancefloor; maybe you could distract yourself with Yeonjun for a while, you think. 

But any plans to track down the said man come to a glaring halt the moment you’re stepping out the kitchen; your eyes widen, surprised expression mirroring Hueningkai’s as he stands before you— his eyes scan over your figure, running back up and stopping at your hazed eyes and flushed face, the slight sway in your movement helping everything click in his mind; you’re a few drinks away from getting utterly wasted, and it seems as though that’s the path you’re getting ready to take. 

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Hueningkai says, watching your face scrunch in confusion, taking a step forward to hear him better, “Thought you’d be too busy doing another study date to come.”

“Shut up,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and scoffing at the implications of his words, “And why do you care? I’m surprised you’re not fucking a random girl in Yunjin’s bathroom right now.”

“I tried,” Hueningkai rolls his eyes, smiling in that obnoxiously smug way as he watches you frown. He leans in, placing a hand on the doorway and above your head as he reaches out to grab your waist; tugging you close to him, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he mumbles quietly, “but she wasn’t anywhere as good as you.”

“You’re gross,” you glare, leaning back as you let your lips upturn in disgust, already knowing what he’s implying— asking of you— with a simple look at his face. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Are you still mad?” Hueningkai asks, beginning his chase even after you’ve successfully escaped his clutches, ignoring him with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms and make your way out to the living room, “you never even told me what was wrong, you just ran away and kept bitching at me.”

You huff; it doesn’t seem like Hueningkai will give up anytime soon, so you’re whirling around and sending him a pointed glare as you finally give him the closure he so desperately keeps asking for. 

“I did tell you what was wrong,” you start, clenching your jaw at the way he immediately opens his mouth to refute that, “you treat me like nothing more than a fuck buddy, acting as though we weren’t actually friends before that! All you do is make me feel worthless, then you have the audacity to turn around and play the victim?! Like seriously, Hueningkai, is this all you see me as? A body to fuck?”

Hueningkai began asking you to keep it down the moment you felt yourself get riled up; volume rising, face heating up, you ignored him, ignored the odd looks you got from others, deciding that since the man before you wanted to hear your thoughts so badly, you’d let it all out.

“We used to be friends. We grew up together!” you say, feeling ridiculous for continuing to grieve the past, the days where things weren’t so complicated and all you felt for Hueningkai was a harmless crush. “I can’t believe I let you use me like this, just because I thought I liked— god, I’m so stupid.”

You don’t give him a chance to retaliate; you’re turning around and ready to weave your way through the faceless people and go outside, only making it halfway before Hueningkai is grabbing at your elbow and asking you to wait. His persistence garners yet another roll of your eyes.

“You what? Hang on, what was that last part?” he asks, trailing behind you and desperately asking for an answer— because of course he would hone in on that part. You continue to ignore him, tugging your arm out his hold and beginning to push through the crowd at the dancefloor— seriously, how many people did Yunjin invite? You seem to have severely underestimated the capacity of this place.

“You— did you like me? Do you like me?” Hueningkai’s last attempts to get something, anything from you are childish and do nothing but make your stomach churn, “Come on, we can talk this out, be mature about it— I can fix things, I can make it up to, yeah? Hey, don’t bail on me now—”

“Enough!” you yell, getting yet another round of side glances and strange looks from others; listening in like always, pretending horribly to be ignorant to it all.

You’re right before the doorway; so close, yet you know that if you leave now, Hueningkai will continue to follow and pester you— so as horrible as the timing is, you realize with a heavy feeling that now is your chance to do what you’ve been debating on for so long. 

“Please, I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say, your words weak as you look right into his eyes— and everything surfaces into your mind once more, the innocent hope you once had of stealing his heart one day, “Let’s just end this— everything.”

The words feel familiar on your tongue, only this time, you realize that this is the person you should’ve directed this message to in the first place.

“We don’t know each other,” you say, jaw clenched at the way it takes Hueningkai a second to process things due to the music that tries to drown you out— you still catch onto the exact moment where it all registers in his head, eyes widening and mouth opening to protest— but you beat him to it, not giving him another opportunity to try and haphazardly fix thing, albeit momentarily. Your eyes meet his, and your heart wrenches upon seeing that he’s more annoyed than hurt. 

“Don’t talk to me— we’re strangers now.”

The final blow is like a weight that is immediately taken off your shoulders; you reach to open the door and slip out. This time, Hueningkai doesn’t follow. 

The air is cool on your face and a nice contrast to the stuffy air inside the house. Slowly, you make your way to the corner of the porch fence, stumbling over due to the soreness of your feet and the alcohol that still runs through your system. So many emotions course through you, seemingly wanting to bring about a wave of nostalgia and sadness, lingering feelings for the man you’ve just let behind— but you won’t allow yourself to cry over him, scoffing instead at the way you allowed yourself to foolishly bend over backwards for him for so long. 

“Wow,” you hear a voice say, not bothering to look back as you immediately recognize who it is; Yunjin joins you, leaning against the fence and craning her head forward to properly survey you— you don’t bother looking at her, even more so when she finally continues,“That was harsh back there.”

You sigh. Because of course Yunjin heard that, and of course she’s the one to bring it up immediately after. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually cut him off— I thought you’d always be like, head over heels, hopelessly in love with him— like a little girl, you know? You never seemed to grow out of him.” You glare at her, but continue to remain silent; she laughs, throwing her head back at the sight, only to wobble back slightly from the sudden motion.

“Oh come onnnnn, you know it’s true!” she coos, proceeding to poke at you teasingly and twist her voice to sound like you, “Huening called me pretty. Huening bought me the purse I really wanted. Huening wants me to go with him to dinner with his parents. Huening Huening Huening—!”

Her laugh is obnoxious, even after you’ve hissed at her to be quiet; she continues to mock you under her breath, drunkenly quoting things she overheard from your outburst, and you realize with a disappointed sigh that she definitely won’t be stopping soon. 

“Heyyy, don’t get all sensitive on me now!” she whines, grabbing your hand and tugging you back when you attempt to leave; it doesn’t work, and you merely tug yourself out her grip, not even bothering to respond to her cries to stay.

Yunjin pauses her dramatics the moment you’re turning and leaving, scoffing at the way she offhandedly apologizes, words slurring together as she says that she’s sorry if you feel offended! You’re shaking your head at that, making your way back to where the stairs are, glancing back at the home one last time— and you’re freezing for a second when you meet Beomgyu’s gaze, the boy wide eyed and awkward as he stands at the doorway. Behind you, Yunjin cheers drunkenly. 

“Beomie! Hey, could you tell her to stop being so dramatic? Like come on, I’m just trying to have fun,” Yunjin’s rambles are left unacknowledged by you both, and you finally find strength within you to walk away after a second; it’s not like you and Beomgyu had anything to talk about, anyway. 

Behind you, Yunjin calls for Beomgyu to go to her and give her attention; her pleas fade from your ears and you’ve finally made it onto the beach, pulling out your phone and fumbling through your contacts before you’re finally ordering an Uber to pick you up instead— it was too late in the night for you to bother your driver. 

The closest driver will be here in fifteen minutes; you’ll spend those fifteen minutes sitting before the ocean, clothes riddled with sand and body still sobering up slowly, your shoes placed to the side as you dip your legs into the water— fifteen minutes of silence, allowing you to ponder if these people are really the ones you’ve chosen to affiliate with for half your life. 

You’ve become so entranced with the white noise of the waves that you couldn’t pick up on the approaching footsteps of another; it isn’t until the said person is sitting at your side that you’re finally snapping out of your trance. 

Beomgyu settles down beside you without a word. You watch him for a second, taking in his appearance— he must’ve been dragged here, if anything, his attire not straying from the usual sweaters and jeans— and you look away, staring back out into the horizon as silence continues to drag down between the two of you. 

“You’re not sensitive,” Beomgyu suddenly says, his voice so quiet and hesitant you almost missed it, “Or dramatic.”

You laugh humorlessly. 

“I know.”

“You deserve to feel wanted,” Beomgyu adds, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, taking in your troubled expression and distant gaze, “...And, your friends are all assholes.”

“...I know.”

It’s quiet. You’re staring down at your feet, at the waves that slowly make their way up your shins before they retreat. Tonight made everything clearer than ever— why did you ever bother to associate with those people? Family and social status was the answer, but as you sit on the beach and away from the rowdy, ruthless crowd, you realize that you feel much more comfortable where you are. 

“No one ever takes me seriously,” you say suddenly, staring at the ground and tracing shapes into the sand, “I mean, I never really gave them reason to; it was all just fun and games at first— since I was a girl, I mean. Everyone thought that because I was so obsessed with superficial things that I just didn’t have anything going on in my head, and I guess that was enough to let me become a joke to everyone. A pretty airhead who just thinks about makeup and clothes and purses.”

“I mean, I worked hard to get to where I’m at, y’know? There’s more to me than just that. I won’t deny that my parents and their wealth helped get me a lot, and I certainly won’t deny that I seriously slacked this semester, but I— I don’t know, I just wish people wouldn’t take the shit I say and do like an absolute cosmic joke sometimes; that everyone I know and surrounded myself with wasn’t so superficial and fake.”

Your mouth just began running without you realizing it, forcing you to spill everything that’s been weighing on your mind; you don’t even bother stopping yourself, refusing to glance at the boy beside you as you continue. 

“And you wanna know what the worst part is? For a while, I started to believe what they thought of me, started to play into it if it meant them… liking me more. Ugh, that sounds so pathetic, seriously. I need to get it together.” You roll your eyes, tossing your head back as you scold yourself midway through your rambling, “I thought that if I acted all cute and stupid, if I just molded myself into what they liked, they… he would choose me. Would decide to keep me around for more than just a fuck. Would reciprocate years and years of pining and pretending to be cool with him fucking around with other people— all while he got all sulky if I even mentioned other guys.”

Silence. You go quiet for a moment, hand stilling for a moment, brows knitting together as you stare at the mess you’ve made in the sand; Beomgyu opens his mouth to say something, but is swiftly cut off by the sight of you sitting up straight abruptly. 

“But I’m worth more than that, y’know? I deserve to have someone take it slow with me, to like me for who I am, to really take me seriously. Even if I act ridiculous sometimes.” You sigh, your lips twitching in a soft smile as you finally look up from the mess in the sand and at Beomgyu; his eyes meet yours, doe-like and wide as always. You laugh at his expression, and his face heats up at the sight. 

“God, I’ve been really insufferable, huh?” you laugh, looking away from him the moment you felt your heart beating a bit faster, “I just never shut up, I’ve been told it’s really annoying— I didn’t mean to dump that all on you like that.”

“It’s alright,” Beomgyu says hastily, biting at his lip and averting your gaze as he continues, “I like listening to you talk.”

Your eyes widen and his words echo through your mind, bouncing off the walls and repeating the message over and over. I like listening to you talk. 

Your mind seems to have entirely blanked out at that; how do you even respond? All you know is that your body seems to heat up entirely after a second, shivers running through your spine as you attempt miserably to find something to say, something that’ll probably shatter the mood entirely— but you can’t, and you’re stuck in a silence that grows tense as minutes pass. 

The ding of a notification sounds from your phone; the two of you are looking down at the screen that lights up, and you immediately scramble to leave the moment you read that your car is here.

“I— I have to go,” you say lamely, wincing at your accidental stutter; you don’t give Beomgyu a chance to say anything more, wiping the sand off your clothes and giving him a half-hearted wave goodbye. “See ya.”

If anyone accused you of running away like a coward, you wouldn’t even bother to deny such claims— because it’s true, and you all but sprint away in order to get out of Beomgyu’s sight, eyes frantically sweeping over the street until you finally spot your Uber, sending a small wave and getting inside quickly. 

“Sorry about the mess,” you say sheepishly, glancing down at your shoes that tracked in remnants of sand; slowly, the car begins to move, and you’re staring out the window and watching Yunjin’s beach house pass by— in the very distance, your eyes catch onto Beomgyu, who remains sitting still by the shore. 

Your mind echoes his words to you, and you’re failing miserably to push down the way your stomach seems to be filled with a flurry of butterflies, the way your face heats up and a smile threatens to break through your face. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you’ve only felt something this intense one other instance, many years ago.

Fuck. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

It’s been a few weeks since Yunjin’s party; a few weeks since you stopped talking to her, a few weeks since you dropped all your snobby friends you only made for connections, a few weeks since you finally broke things off with Hueningkai. 

A few weeks since you realized that you might see Beomgyu as more than just a nerdy, pathetic loser. 

You’ve found that you have a lot more free time these days; now that you’re no longer worried about attending worthless cocktail parties or going golfing to help Yunjin impress a CEO’s son who she’s had her eye on for days, you’ve found that your life has become a lot more peaceful— or rather, boring. 

Your social life is nonexistent; what else did you expect, after cutting off practically everyone you knew? You’ve become a homebody, much more focused on your work and finding more mundane hobbies— your grades have never looked better. 

Avoiding Yunjin and anyone associated with her was simple; it was nothing, passing by her and pretending like you two never knew each other, like the two of you weren’t once attached by the hip. It never phased you to be in the same room as her, not even batting an eye when she found herself sitting a table away from you in the dining halls. 

You just wish you could say the same about Beomgyu. 

God, what the hell has gotten into you? You’ve become a fumbling, ridiculous mess, not even able to look him in the eye when you spot him in the halls, in the library, in cafes; your body heats up and words get stuck in your throat whenever he’s so much as close in proximity, always finding a way to flee as soon as possible— you don’t even bother being inconspicuous anymore. 

It was apparent to anyone who knew you that this behavior was a complete switch from your usual self— cocky, flirty, bold— and Beomgyu, who had to spend hours on end with you, knew that better than anyone. 

He’s able to spot your odd behavior immediately. Though unfortunately for him, he’s unable to come to a proper conclusion as to why you may be acting like that, and simply decides that you must be holding up your promise still; the promise to act like complete strangers, that is. 

Beomgyu frowns, staring at your back as you stand in line at the cafe across the campus library; you’re rigid, as though turning around and acknowledging the man behind you could kill you. Did you really hate him that much? He thought he made progress back at Yunjin’s party, your moment of vulnerability allowing him to see you in a completely new light— because after a moment of thought, after you fled the scene with an awkward wave and an empty smile, Beomgyu began to think; he really didn’t know anything about you. He didn’t even know your major.

All he knew about you were superficial things— and Beomgyu found himself oddly irritated by the thought, wondering if he was any better than the very people you were complaining about; it weighed his mind, finding himself prattling off to Yeonjun about it one day, laying on the couch and petting Toto absentmindedly as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“She’s an architecture major,” Yeonjun said from the kitchen, looking up from the stove and meeting Beomgyu’s surprised gaze, “Yunjin told me once that she’s been working to try and get an internship at her father’s company— starting from the bottom up and everything. Heard it’s super competitive over there.”

You were a lot more hardworking and studious than Beomgyu— or anyone, really— gave you credit for. And as he watched you recite your order to the cashier, something so convoluted that the boy wondered if it was even good, he found himself wanting to learn more about you. You stood off to the side, staring down at your phone with a concentrated pout, and he wondered if he should bite the bullet and finally attempt talking to you. 

Just as Beomgyu was mustering up the courage to say something, just as he was about to open his mouth, your name was called and you picked up your drink with a swiftness he’s never seen before, making your way out and passing Beomgyu in the blink of an eye. He’s left waiting for his drink long after, snapped out of his reverie by a text notification. 

Huh Yunjin:

im at the library rn r u coming ??

dont keep me waiting :(

Beomgyu sighs, and trudges his way to the library with a pout; the feeling is reminiscent, but he can’t help but find himself thinking that it was you he was studying with instead. He spots Yunjin’s bright head of orange hair instantly, eyes glued to her phone and brows knitted together in a soft frown— and though Beomgyu apologized for being late and asked her to start without him, she didn’t seem to bother to even get her materials out. 

Internally, Beomgyu finds himself rolling his eyes— But he’s masking that with a soft clear of his throat, his calm voice asking Yunjin to get her textbook out so they can start their session— and she finally looks up from her phone, bright eyes filled with confusion before she smiles sheepishly. 

“Oh right, the textbooks,” she murmurs, looking over at the seat next to her where she’s placed her bag, then across where Beomgyu sits; his eyes widen at the sight of her collecting her things, standing up and rounding the table before she sits next to him— before he can question what he’s doing, she scoots her chair closer to him, shoulders touching as she sends him an innocent smile. “I… forgot mine… you don’t mind if we share, right? You said you took this class last semester.”

Beomgyu can’t contain the way he lets out an exasperated breath; he pulls out his laptop, pulling up his digital copy as he mentally complains about how unprepared and demanding Yunjin always seemed to be— he can’t remember the last time she actually brought her own supplies; if anything, Beomgyu was sure she hadn’t even bought her required texts. 

And as he scrolls through the index in search of the needed chapter, he feels Yunjin leaning in closer; all under the guise of seeing the screen better, but Beomgyu knows better than to believe that her intentions are all innocent. And despite Beomgyu’s multiple attempts to scoot away from her, he quickly finds himself trapped by the girl again, frowning at the way she laughs at everything little thing he says and tugs at his sleeve when she’s confused about something. 

For a moment, Beomgyu wonders if she might actually be hitting on him— but he soon catches onto the way she peeks over his screen after each attempt to be touchy, how she glances in the same direction after every soft coo of that same nickname that makes him wince— and he follows the path of her gaze eventually, not entirely surprised at what he sees; if anything, it helps everything click together. 

Beomgyu spots you sitting two tables away, face twisted up in concentration and headphones obstructing your ears, head bobbing rhythmically as you scribble things on your notebook, glancing back at your laptop’s screen ever so often; he catches sight of numbers and equations, and he realizes that you must be working on math homework. 

Without realizing, he’s found himself staring at you; this side of you that he never saw much, private and calm and hardworking, the image you said you wished others saw in you— and, as though you could feel it, you’re looking up from your work, meeting Beomgyu’s eyes instantly and watching as he flusters and looks away; your eyes then fall onto the girl who has him backed into the corner of the table, who leans into him and glances over you with a slight quirk of her lips— she sends you a small wave, then turns back to Beomgyu, calling out his name softly. 

Undeniably curious, you lower the volume of your music slightly— you didn’t expect Yunjin to actually go through with her plans of getting Beomgyu to tutor her, and much less her lasting this long— you’re bringing up a hand to your head as subtly as you can, moving the right side of your headphone away from your ear slightly and allowing yourself to listen in to whatever it is they talk about. 

While Beomgyu attempts multiple times to tutor her and teach her materials, Yunjin can’t seem to stop steering away in a completely different direction; asking him entirely unrelated questions, blatantly flirting and acting coy as she pulls at his sweater everytime he seems hesitant to answer— the sight is slightly amusing, but you can’t deny the way it makes you wince with annoyance. 

“Today’s your day off, right?” Yunjin asks eventually, smiling widely when he nods, albeit hesitantly, “Great! You know how you said you’d take me to dinner if I got a good score on my test?” 

You hear the sound of Yunjin’s nails clicking against a screen; undoubtedly searching for something, the soft mutters of Beomgyu’s you were the one who struck up the deal, making you bite your tongue in a desperate attempt to remain inconspicuous; from the corner of your eye, you’re able to catch the way the said boy glances over at you. 

“Well… ta-da!” Yunjin squeals happily as she shoves the phone into Beomgyu’s face, allowing him to see her results for the said test. Beomgyu hums absentmindedly at the sight. 

“Your place at seven?” Yunjin grins, poking his shoulder teasingly; Beomgyu doesn’t answer, but she chooses to take that silence as a yes. “Great! I have to go actually; promised my girls I’d have brunch with them— you understand, right?” 

Instead of fumbling with his words and asking her to not leave so abruptly, Beomgyu simply nods and hums a soft uh-huh. The sight is enough to have Yunjin scoffing, slinging her purse on her shoulder and reaching over to grab Beomgyu’s chin— she tugs it and makes him face her, the action so sudden that his eyes widen drastically— and she smiles, squishing his cheeks teasingly and pouting at his distant behavior. 

“Don’t get all pouty with me— I’ll see you soon ‘kay?” before Beomgyu can even process anything, Yunjin leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling her lipstick transfer onto his skin— he’s slightly dazed, reaching up immediately to place a hand over the spot, staring at Yunjin with furrowed brows; she simply laughs and waves at him one final time, practically skipping out from how giddy she seemed.

From a distance, you watch Beomgyu quietly reach for his bag, his expression blank as he pulls out a tissue and his phone; you watch him use his front camera as a mirror, wiping at the lipstick with a soft frown. 

From a distance, you laugh to yourself— the distaste that appears on his face is obvious to you, and you can’t help but shake your head at Yunjin’s ridiculous behavior; god, was that what you looked like whenever you would bail on him mid-session? The very thought was terribly humbling to you. 

Yunjin’s attempts to get back at you by using Beomgyu were more than obvious; you think back to her actions, the way she blatantly flirted with him, the plans she suddenly tacked on him— on his day off, not to mention— and you roll your eyes, deciding that you might as well put an end to all these dramatics; not just for your sake, but for Beomgyu’s as well. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu is groaning to himself the moment he hears a sharp knock on his door— the last thing he wanted to do on his day off was spend his time entertaining a girl who was clearly using him for some odd, petty reasons— but he got ready nonetheless, texted Yunjin his address hours prior after being told that her driver would come pick him up, (he hadn’t gotten a response in relation to that message, but she’ll probably see it soon) and waited patiently on the couch, albeit much earlier than the proposed plans. 

Another sharp knock— Beomgyu wishes he had some proper excuse for her, told her that he already had plans with his roommate, but the said man was off on his shift already— he trudges over to the door, twisting the doorknob with a heavy reluctance, and sighs. He braces himself as he swings open the door to greet Yunjin with a halfhearted smile. 

“Hey,” you pant instead, leaning against the doorway and ignoring his confused— and shocked— expression, “I— am I late? I thought I was early, did you get ready early?” 

You gulp; since when could Beomgyu clean up so nicely? He’s forgone his usual, comfortable and casual outfits in favor of a perfectly pressed button up and a clean hairstyle— Yunjin must’ve planned to take him to quite the expensive place, you think to yourself. 

“Of course you’d be the type to get ready an hour early,” you mutter bitterly to yourself, the comment enough to have the said man glancing at the nearest clock in confusion— and just like you said, a bright six o’clock greeted him on the digital clock. 

“You— what’re you doing here?” Beomgyu stutters pathetically, unable to do much but relent to the way you step inside, closing the door behind him and turning around to face you, “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Yeah well, I lied.” you simply say, the words confusing the poor man even more, “I came to tell you to cancel your plans with Yunjin.” 

“Can— huh?” he searches your expression for the traces of a joke, but finds that you’re dead serious. “Why would I cancel? That’s rude.”

“Jesus, can’t you see?!” You say exasperatedly, reaching out to place your hands on Beomgyu’s shoulders, fingers digging in so he can look at you— it’s only when he finally does that you continue. “She doesn’t want to do this— she’s using you. She’s doing this to get back at me.”

“But why would she…” Beomgyu utters, and you wonder with a roll of your eyes where that boy genius of yours went. 

“Beomgyu,” you start, the sound foreign to the said boys ears as he blinks at you owlishly. You bite at your lip, brows furrowing at you think over what to say— you start again, but your words are hesitant and muddled. “She’s using you because she’s petty and because… because…” 

He gives you a look encouraging you to continue.

“Because— god, are you really gonna make me say this?!” you break, letting go of his shoulders and taking a step back— your face feels like it’s on fire and your stomach feels like it’s been twisted into knots, your hands clammy as you glance over at Beomgyu again— and he looks at you with the most stupid, oblivious expression known to mankind. 

You take a quick, deep breath, and you start again. 

“Choi Beomgyu. She’s using you because I…” you say sternly, reaching over suddenly to grab his face, cupping his cheeks and taking in the way he becomes red at your touch. You bring him close to you, pressing your lips in a fine line and hesitating before you observe his face— and god, he looks so pathetic and lost that you don’t even seem to mind the way the next words tumble out of you, fluid and clear and true. 

“Because I like you.”

Silence. You’re waiting anxiously in response, looking into Beomgyu’s eyes in anticipation, but all he does is stare. He stares and stares and stares, and for the first time in a while, you’re unsure of what to make of this reaction. 

“And I’m not lying either.”

Still nothing. His skin is warming up under your fingertips, and his mouth opens hesitantly to say something, only to close again— he must still doubt you, so you decide to take a leap of faith and reassure him the only way you know how.

“I think you’re cute and kinda pathetic in an endearing way, I think that those glasses really compliment your face and make your eyes look super doll-like, and I don’t really mind Toto. I think he’s still a bit weird to look at but I love that you love him, and it makes total sense to me that out of all the pets you could’ve had you decided to get a big freaky green bird of all things, and I think it’s super cute that you’re attached to him— I think you look kinda hot when you get frustrated on a problem, and I think it’s really hard to hold myself back from kissing you when you start stuttering at me like an idiot— also, it’s really not that bad that you play League of Legends, and I can’t believe I’m gonna admit this, but I started playing it myself and it’s not that bad— but that’s not the point, what I’m saying is that you’re— you’re a nerd and a loser but I don’t mind because I really— fuck, I really like—”

His lips are mashing onto yours before you can process his sudden movement, rough and sloppy and desperate that all you can do is slide your hands into his hair and pull him closer; his hands wrap around you in response, one on the small of your back and the other against the back of your head as he pulls you closer still, close until your bodies are pressed flush together. 

The two of you are so rough with your movements that he’s stumbling back, knocking against the wall and groaning softly at the impact; you’re sneaking your tongue into his parted lips, listening to the way he pants and moans against your mouth, slotting a leg between his and feeling as his thigh is quick to retaliate and press against your core. 

“Mghh– ugh, fuck,” you moan mindlessly, feeling his hand press against the small of your back, forcing you to arch and push your weight onto his strong muscle, allowing yourself to rock against it desperately; your mind is running a million miles an hour, pulling away from his lips breathlessly and staring at the gloss that has transferred onto him; his eyes look dazed, lips parted and in need for more as he tries to lead your head back to his. 

“Can’t believe she tried to use you against me,” you mutter, going back in to press quick, chaste kisses all along his face; he curls in shyly at the gesture, weakly grasping at your clothes as he feels the way you begin to trail them along his jaw, sucking and biting until you’re seeing the beginnings of marks that will bloom there, “shame it didn’t work— cause you’re all mine, right gyu?”

Like clockwork, he nods; his face heats up and he feels a bit ashamed at how quickly he’s melted under your hold, but any embarrassment is washed away the moment he feels your hand begin to fumble with his belt, clumsily undoing it before you’re moving to undo his jeans. 

“Wait,” you breathe against his neck, feeling him shiver softly; he’s confused, whining softly at the sudden loss of touch until he’s watching as you pull away, glancing behind your shoulder before you’re meeting his eyes with a blank expression, “take me to your room.”

For a second, he’s confused about the sudden switch of your behavior— but then he’s looking over your shoulder and right at the direction you glanced at, a sudden laugh breaking through him when he spots Toto in the corner; sheepishly, he nods. 

“Okay,” he says, smiling shyly at the way you reach out for the hand placed on the small of your back, intertwining your fingers so naturally it’s almost instinct, “yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

He watches you kick off your shoes and allows you to lead him straight to his room— he’s surprised you even remembered where it is— and smiles at the way you tug him closer by the collar the moment you step inside, palms pressing flat on his chest and making him walk backwards until his knees are hitting the edge of the bed— he falls back, hair splaying prettily on his sheets as he looks up at you with expectant, adoring eyes. 

You’re straddling him immediately after; planting your core directly on his prominent bulge, taking in the way he lets out a broken whimper at the feeling of your heat pressing against him so well— his hands fly to your waist, fingers weakly digging into the meat of your hips as he attempts to subtly buck up into you; you tsk, shaking your head and leaning down to place a hand firm on his chest. 

“Bad pup,” you say softly, hovering above his lips and watching as he desperately chases them, “You need to be patient, okay?”

He nods frantically, eyes fluttering shut the moment you press your lips against him slowly, feeling the way he desperately seeks to taste you— you allow him to, wandering hands beginning to unbutton his pristine white shirt slowly as he remains distracted. 

Beomgyu is a lot more fit than you expected; lean muscle greeting you the moment you slip his shirt off his shoulders, leaning up to let him take it off and raking your nails down his skin— his stomach flinches at your nails scratch at it, and you smile childishly at the sight, the action reminiscent to the first time you got your hands on him. 

“So pretty…” you mumble to yourself, tracing a path along his chest, down to his navel, watching as he shivers at your touch; a shaky gasp escapes his lips, hands grabbing at his sheets and eyes fluttering shut as he fights back the urge to buck up into you again— your eyes flicker up to study his expression, titling your head curiously as a smile tugs at your lips. 

“You’re so pretty, Beomgyu,” you say again, leaning down to plant soft kisses along his neck, beginning to trail down until you’re at his chest— you’re able to watch the way his skin flushes a soft pink at your words, shy gaze averting quickly the moment you’re looking back up at him— and you laugh softly to yourself, hovering over his lap and trailing a hand down as you begin to undo his pants with ease. 

“Y’know, I’ve never seen you so dressed up before,” you comment offhandedly, taking a moment to observe his pristine clothes, his styled hair— and your jaw clenches at the thought of Yunjin seeing him like this, an inkling of jealousy beginning to rear its ugly head the longer you think about it; you’re tugging at his pants, watching as his hips lift to help you tug them down more, and scoff at your wandering thoughts. 

“Bet you would’ve loved to have her attention on you, hmm?” you say, beginning to roll your hips against his the moment he opens his mouth to protest— a sharp moan leaves Beomgyu instead, mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt grinding against his, the only thing separating the two of you being your thin panties and his boxers that are quickly becoming ruined; his eyes flicker down to where you continue to roll your hips, the sight of your skirt riding up and bunching up at your thighs enough to have his cock twitch. 

“Just can’t control yourself when you’re with a cute girl— just can’t say no,” Beomgyu’s hips jump and he lets out a long whine at a particularly harsh roll of your hips, feeling his cock slot perfectly against your cunt, the material of your panties soaked and sticking to your pussy, able to feel you better the more pressure you add; his hands fly to your hips once more, but instead of trying to guide your pace, they simply remain there, grabbing at your skirt and fisting the material in his hands, flushed face and shining eyes begging silently for more. 

“No— can’t, can’t say no— ah!” Beomgyu begins, unable to speak properly with the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of your warm cunt on his aching cock, “can’t say no to you… fuck…”

His words are enough to catch you off guard; your pace is stuttering and your eyes are widening, the brief pause enough to give Beomgyu enough confidence to continue— his eyes are glassy as he stares up at you, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles on your hips as he speaks. 

“Could never say no to you…” he says softly, face reddening as he continues, “you’re too pretty to say no to.”

He doesn’t quite meet your gaze after that; he’s too shy to, but with the way you immediately begin to undress before him after a moment, he’s sure that he must’ve flipped a switch inside you. 

“God, you’re so cute…” you mutter, throwing your shirt off in a random direction before you’re sliding your skirt off— and Beomgyu is growing flustered at the sight again, practically malfunctioning from seeing your body for the first time. 

You’re left in only your underwear when you finally decide you’ve had enough of his shyness, grabbing his face with a firm hand and turning it to look back at you; your nails dig into his plush cheeks and his eyes grow wide at the gesture, meeting your eyes as you simply give him a coy smile and a peck to his lips. 

“So pathetic too,” you continue, watching his adam’s apple bob at your condescending words, “I love it.” 

You lean close to his ear; slowly, you take his hands and begin guiding them along your body, feeling the way his breath hitches and his chest begins to take shallow breaths, shaky fingertips grazing against your skin, up your biceps until you’re leading him to your back, straight to your bra strap.

“Undo it,” you murmur against the shell of his ear, able to listen to the way he gulps softly; nervous hands fiddle with the clasp, the way you place chaste kisses to the spot behind his ear not helping in the slightest— and after a moment, you’re finally able to feel the garment loosening around you, along with a soft sigh the boy lets out. 

The straps slip off your shoulders slowly, and with a coy smile, you make a show of discarding your bra, sitting back and watching as Beomgyu’s face turns impossibly red; his eyes are wide and his hands are frozen, unsure of what to do as you simply huff at the sight— and your hands are taking his once more, guiding them slowly until he’s cupping your breasts; he gulps again, and you pout at the sight. 

“Don’t you wanna touch me?” you pout, tilting your head and watching as the man underneath you remains reliant on your instructions to do anything; his eyes snap back up to meet yours at your words, shaking his head softly and opening his mouth to stutter protests.

“I– I do, I do,” he says, licking his lips nervously before looking back down at your breasts, thumbs experimentally swiping across your nipples; you shiver at the feeling, the sight of even your smallest reactions making Beomgyu’s cock ache, “I just… I’m not sure what to do….what you’d like.” 

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, absentmindedly guiding his hands to touch and caress your breasts just how you like, your back aching slightly at the stimulation, “I can teach you.” 

“Please,” Beomgyu whines out, hands finally beginning to move on their own as a smile grows on your face, watching the way looks at you with needy, fucked out eyes, “Please, wanna make you feel good.” 

“Do you now?” you tease, titling your head and raising a brow at him questioningly; he nods his head fervently, eyes filled with an undeniably desire that leads him to take your body in hungrily, trailing from your chest down until he stops right at your cunt thats pressed so perfectly against him. 

His line of sight is terribly obvious— though you don’t think it was Beomgyu’s intention to hide his desires anyway, not with the way your back is suddenly colliding against his bed, a gasp escaping you the moment you feel warm hands prying your legs open; you’re propping yourself up with your elbows, wide eyes meeting Beomgyu’s; the said man kneels on the floor and is now at eye level with your soaked cunt— his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, and with a soft laugh, you realize that Beomgyu is yet again waiting for further instructions. 

“Can I taste you?” He asks meekly, eyes shining behind the lenses of his glasses, the sight endearing and a complete switch from the words that leave his mouth, “will you let me?”

Silence— all he gets in response is a slow sigh, the boy peeking through his lashes to get a gauge of your expression; he gulps at the sight of your narrowed eyes and pinched brows, mind undoubtedly thinking of scenarios that sour your mood— but the sight of you like this is much too tempting, and Beomgyu will be damned if he doesn’t get to lose himself in your pussy at least once; his cock pathetically twitches at the mere thought. 

“I don’t know puppy,” you murmur, sneering at the way he pouts immediately, strong hands tugging at you and pulling you towards him more, body sliding at the movement— and though you can feel him breathe against your clothed cunt, he still refrains from doing anything, waiting loyally for your okay with pleading eyes. 

“Do you think you deserve it?” you ask, throwing a leg over his shoulder, digging the heel of your foot in between his shoulder blades roughly— he practically keens at the feeling, a poorly stifled whimper escaping him, followed by a shaky sigh, “after seeing the way you’ll give anyone who approaches you all your attention like a slut, I don’t think you do.” 

You make sure to punctuate your words with another dig of your heel, but Beomgyu remains unaffected— if anything, it manages to spur him on more, and you’re left to pretend as though his next actions don’t leave you terribly weak. 

“Please…” he whispers, the sound so soft you barely miss it— he’s pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, lips lingering on the skin before he looks back up to meet your gaze; his eyes are glazed with nothing but need. The single word continues to leave him like a mantra, unable to do anything more than watch as he begins to litter kisses all over your inner thighs, soft begs slowly increasing their intensity the longer you deny him. 

I deserve it, I do; please, please let me make you feel good, promise you’re the only one for me— please? Please, please please please…

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of Beomgyu’s broken, repetitive begging— his hair brushes against your sensitive skin that has been peppered with endless kisses, and if it weren’t for the way Beomgyu’s eyes were beginning to become watery from his desperation, you would’ve allowed yourself to enjoy the show a little more. 

“You want it that much?” you seethe, a hand going down to tangle itself in his long hair— and, just as expected, he lets out a broken whine, followed with an immediate, breathy “yes” that affects you much more than you let on, “Go on then.” 

You’re guiding his head to your cunt without another word, fingers still entangled tightly in the roots of his hair; he begins with a soft kiss to your cunt, the sight making you roll your eyes— for someone so eager, he sure was hesitant. 

His tongue is hot and heavy against your clit; he’s running the tip of it along your slit, listening to the hitch of your breath and taking in every miniscule reaction you provide— he’s teasing you, albeit unintentionally, and the realization has you tightening your hold on his roots in warning; you feel the way he lets out a shaky breath at the action, and soon after, his fingers are tugging at the waistband of your panties, making slow work to properly take them off. 

Beomgyu’s every movement is feather-like and hesitant; it’s clear he’s testing out the waters, unsure of what to do in order to please you— and while a part of you is endeared at the messy kitten licks of his tongue and the way he circles your clit sloppily, the other part of you seems to be feeling much more unforgiving— you’re tugging his hair and telling him to look at you with a harsh voice. 

“What happened to wanting to please me? To deserving this?” you mock, lips quirking to a satisfied smile the moment his face heats up, ears tinting a soft red, “are you too much of a virgin to know how to eat a girl out?”

His face turns a bright red and he remains silent— you can only manage a bewildered laugh at the sight. 

Of course, how did you not piece it together before? It seems as though you were much too generous to give him the benefit of the doubt before, because as you stare Beomgyu down with a gaze that’s nothing short of predatory, you’ve realized that his silence tells you more than enough; He’s a total virgin. 

“Oh, you don’t know anything, do you?” you coo softly, letting go of Beomgyu’s scalp to caress his face softly, a grin threatening to break through your face from the simple sight of the man melting into your touch, “you need me to guide you through it?” 

With a shaky sigh, Beomgyu nods— it barely takes a moment before you’re pushing at the back of his head and guiding him back to your cunt. 

He didn’t bother to take off his glasses; you didn’t bother to remind him, smiling cruelly as you murmur soft instructions to him, telling him to suck on your clit or guiding his mouth to lick at your entrance, responding with soft sighs of pleasure whenever he does something particularly well; he’s sloppy, inexperienced, and undeniably nervous, but you suppose he makes up for its with his eagerness to do well as he continues, slowly taking note of what makes your hips buck and your fingers tighten against his hair— and after a few minutes, you’re no longer instructing Beomgyu step by step, but instead throwing your head back and letting your mouth fall open with unabashed moans. 

Beomgyu’s eagerness is abundant and blatant. He’s pressing his face against your cunt after having gained confidence, mouth sloppy and hanging open as he allows you to grind against him, feeling his glasses slip down the tall bridge of his nose and fog up with every pant of breath— but he finds that he doesn’t really mind, eyes fluttering shut and lips circling around your clit as he hones in to the sounds you make instead. 

You think Beomgyu’s head is completely empty at this point; his fingers dig into your thighs and he continues his attempts to bring you closer against his face, greedy mouth drinking up any arousal that slips from your entrance before he’s fucking you with his tongue— your hips buck unintentionally against him at that, and from the way he only increases his efforts even further, you think he might’ve enjoyed that. 

“Beomgyu— puppy, fuck,” you hiss, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the way his nose is now pressed against your clit from how close he’s attempting to get to you. Your chest heaves and you can feel a tight knot forming in your stomach, body beginning to become restless as Beomgyu remains unfazed at your sudden squirming— you’re close, so close, and Beomgyu wants nothing more than to feel you fall apart against his face. 

“Shit– right there, just like that— don’t stop, god, fuck—!” Your eyes are screwed shut as a sudden wave of pleasure breaks through you, your hand pulling at Beomgyu’s hair and your heel digging sharply into his back as you cum; the boy only lets out a pathetic whine at the feeling of you rolling your hips smoothly against his face, mouth left ajar and eyes fluttering shut as he lets you use him, riding it out with twitchy legs and soft moans. 

Beomgyu only moves after your grip slips from his head entirely; your whole body is falling slack, a deep sigh escaping you as you attempt to catch your breath, eyes bleary and slowly opening after a moment— you’re able to watch as the said boy goes to stand, a weak hand of yours stopping his motion and grabbing at his shoulder— and you’re guiding him to hover over you, smiling coyly at the wrecked sight of him. 

His glasses are completely skewed— a slight heat burns at your face from the sight, but it’s all washed away by the lopsided smile Beomgyu gives you, entirely unaware of his flushed and messy appearance; gently, you reach out to slip off his glasses, putting them off to the side as you reach to adjust his mused hair next— he merely watches your face with doe eyes as you brush his hair away gently, tucking it behind his ear before you cup his jaw, tugging him down to kiss you again.

“You’re sure you wanna do this?” you mumble against his lips, hands absentmindedly running along his skin soothingly, lips beginning to wander off as you trail soft pecks against his jawline, smiling at the way he doesn’t hesitate to nod, “you want it?”

“Need it,” Beomgyu whines, letting out a shaky breath as he grabs your hand, guiding it down his chest slowly, adding pressure once you’ve reached the bulge of his boxers— you can feel the way he twitches the moment you touch him, gulping softly before the continues to plead, “need it, need to feel you.” 

His voice is sweet and soft in your ears, and you find that you can’t really bring yourself to put up a front and resist; it’s physically impossible to, especially with the way he ruts his cock against your hand, leaking pathetically and twitching at even the slightest stimulation.

Beomgyu’s attempts to remain calm and collected falls apart the moment you relent, face red and eyes wide with anticipation the moment he feels your hand go to pull his cock out; he falters above you for a split second, teeth sinking into his lip to suppress a whine that builds up in his throat. But his attempts are futile as always, a broken whimper leaving him the moment you press the head of his cock against your cunt, tightening around the shaft and proceeding to run it along your slit teasingly. 

He’s practically panting above you, fingers gripping onto the sheets as he allows you to toy with him, eyes glassy and meeting yours as you simply coo mockingly at him, teasing him for being nothing but a toy for you to use.

The moment you press his tip against your entrance, the two of you tense; a shaky sigh escapes you at the stretch, looking up at Beomgyu and whispering for him to just put it in already; and he swallows, eyes watering at the feeling of him finally pushing into you— warm, wet walls that flutter around him, stretching and adjusting to his size; your hips that jolt with every inch he slides in, eyes widening and mouth falling open as you try to contain your composure— but his size is no joke, and curses leaves your mouth endlessly at the feeling of him filling you up.

“God— you’re so… so warm, so tight,” Beomgyu cries above you, hips stuttering and making him push himself deeper into you; a yelp escapes you at the feeling, hips pressed flushed against his as you stare up at him with wide eyes, cunt clenching at the anticipation of him fucking you. 

But he simply remains still, and you’re just about to complain for him to move when you catch sight of his expression, screwed up into concentration as he lets out a deep breath— probably trying not to cum, you muse to yourself— and he sits up, no longer hovering over you as his hands move to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles on the skin as he looks down where the two of you connect; he looks up at you, puppy eyes begging for one thing. 

“You— you can move,” you breathe out, cringing slightly at the weak sound of your voice, the way you trip over your words; Beomgyu nods, sighing shakily again before he finally begins to move, slowly pulling out until the only thing you feel is his tip catching at your entrance— then he thrusts back in, and you don’t bother to swallow down the moan that manifests from that. 

Beomgyu isn’t faring any better than you; his brows are knitted together and his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips, voice pitchy and whiny as he attempts to fuck you properly— but his thrusts are sloppy and rough, and it seems as though he’s too concentrated on the feeling of you around him to find a good pace. 

You’re opening your mouth to tease him about it, only to get cut off at the feeling of him bumping his cock against your sweet spot; a whine leaves you unexpectedly, the sound accompanied with the feeling of your legs attempting to wrap around his waist to pull him in enough to snap him out of his pussy drunk daze. He’s drinking up your expression, his pace slowing down enough to allow him to search for that spot again— it takes a few attempts, but once he catches onto it, he doesn’t relent. 

“Sh–shit, just like that,” you whine, his thrust becoming more calculated as he begins to take note of what makes you feel good once more— though it’s still slightly sloppy and uneven, his weak pants and pitchy whines enough to tell you that his mind is much too hazy to care.

Absentmindedly, your hand snakes down to circle at your clit in search of more stimulation— only to get it knocked away roughly by Beomgyu’s, eyes widening at the action until he’s replacing you hand with his— and though you wish you could make fun of him for being such a desperate bitch, the stimulation has your voice getting caught in your throat.  

“Does— does this feel good?” Beomgyu suddenly asks, puppy eyes watering and glazed as he picks up his pace, one hand gripping onto your waist while the other continues to rub your clit, “Am I– ah… am I doing good?”

You almost miss the last part with how softly he says it— but once you process his question, you let out a breathy laugh, biting at your lip in an attempt to suppress the smile that tugs at your face; you fail miserably, but all the patronizing look in your eyes does is make Beomgyu’s cock twitch inside you a bit. 

“Does my stupid puppy need something? Need my approval?” you ask, pouting at the way he hesitates to answer, “I won’t know unless you tell me, baby.” 

The pet names are enough to have Beomgyu short-circuiting again; his face feels hot and he lets out a petulant whine at the way you continue to tease, ignoring his pleading look as you reach up to cup his jaw, cooing his name so sweetly he’s unable to be ashamed at how easily he breaks. 

“Tell me I’m doing good,” he whines, and you simply smile at him, stuttered breaths and soft moans the only thing leaving your lips as you notice the increased sloppiness of his thrusts, his erratic voice and face that slowly nears yours, hovering over you as he speaks.

“I’m— ‘m good, right? Your…” he trails off, punctuating his next word with a harsh, deep thrust that has you yelping, “your good boy— tell me, tell me I’m good, just wanna hear you say it, ah, wanna be good for you.” 

He’s a babbling, whining mess, hiding his face in your neck immediately after the words escape him— and with a request so sweet, how could you ever deny him?

“So good for me,” you immediately respond, listening to the muffled whimpers as he buries his head deeper into your neck, wandering lips sucking and biting at the skin, “good little pup— fuck, are you close? Gonna fill me up?” 

You feel the way he nods frantically against you, his hand leaving your hip to circle under your back, pulling you flush against him as he continues his rough, haphazard thrusts— and you turn your head to face him, pressing a kiss to his head before you lean in close to his ear, the sounds of your breathy moans and sweet voice enough to bring him over the edge. 

“C’mon, cum for me puppy,” you coo, listening to the long whimper he lets out in response, hips stilling and pressing flush against yours as he follows your command, warm cum filling you up as he rides out his orgasm, cock rutting subtly into you all the while, “that’s it— such a good boy, so perfect to me.” 

His chest heaves against yours; his other arm comes up to sneak under your body as well, successfully hugging you close against him, bodies pressed together and practically one with how tightly he’s got you in his grip— his cock remains inside you all the while, head nuzzled deeply in the space of your neck as you merely let out an amused huff, giving him a moment to catch his breath before you tease him again. 

The moment of peace between the two of you is cut by the abrasive sound of his phone ringing, the two of you looking at the source with furrowed brows; neither of you make a move to get it, watching it continue to vibrate on the bed before it goes silent— you’re both falling back against the bed the moment in bliss the moment the ringtone disappears, and you can feel Beomgyu’s arms tightening around you even more, not expecting him to be so openly clingy—

“You didn’t cum,” Beomgyu suddenly gasps, head popping up from his hiding place as he hovers over you with wide eyes. You simply reassure him that it’s alright, already feeling your body get heavy with exhaustion— but he isn’t having it, shaking his head and standing back up as he looks at you with an unbelievably solemn expression, wincing softly as he pulls out of you, “No, I wanna make you cum— wanna feel you cum on my dick, wanna make you feel good.” 

The words sound clumsy coming from him, oddly shy to say what he wants out loud— and it makes you laugh, attempting to tell him that you really don’t mind when you’re getting interrupted by the annoying sound of his phone ringing. 

“Seriously, who the hell is…” you’re trailing off as you watch Beomgyu’s eyes widen, leaning over to snatch his phone as he reads the contact name, his horrified expression telling you all you need to know. 

“Don’t answer it,” you seethe, ignoring the way he stutters about how he totally forgot to cancel, feeling a hot anger bubble in your stomach as he talks about how bad he feels for not communicating properly, “Beomgyu, don’t answer it!” 

“I— what if she’s waiting outside right now—?!”

Your movements are much too sudden and swift for him to process; he can only watch and allow you to snatch the phone away from him, rough hands gripping his shoulders and hissing at him to fucking sit; he’s quick to comply, and you’re even quicker to climb onto his lap and situate yourself just how you like— he cries softly at the feeling of you grabbing at his sensitive cock, stroking it for a moment and aligning it with your entrance before you’re sinking down on him slowly. 

“Who cares if she’s outside right now,” you scowl, digging your fingers in his cheeks and forcing him to look at you, swollen lips red and pouty as he merely whines at the feeling of you rocking slowly against him, ���it’s the least we could do to get back at her for trying to fucking use you.”

His protests die down once you pick up your pace; oh, his face practically screams, eyes glazing over at the feeling of your warm pussy using his sensitive cock to get yourself off, soft cries leaving him as he merely watches you begin to ride him expertly, already feeling himself get hard inside you, the sight of you on top of him and the sounds of skin against skin riling him much more than expected.

“Hnng, wait, slow down please—!” he whines softly, hands flying to your hips yet making no attempts to control the pace— and you can only laugh at him, the sounds of his soft cries enough to encourage you more. 

You’re close— so, so close, and all Beomgyu can do is sit and take it, tears of sensitivity pricking at his eyes and falling along his cheeks the moment he feels your walls clench against him— but he’d rather die than stop you, sp entranced with the sight of your face twisted with pleasure that his body screams at him to do what he can to make you feel good. 

Like instinct, your hand tangles itself in Beomgyu’s hair the moment he latches his lips against your nipple, back arching and the tight knot in your stomach falling apart the moment his wandering hand goes to play with your clit; the way your walls spasm and hug him tightly is enough to have Beomgyu cumming inside you again, a pathetic keen sounding from him as he buries his head in your chest, beyond sensitive with the way you continue to ride your orgasm long after.

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of your panting and Beomgyu’s soft whimpers— but it doesn’t last long, a tired groan escaping you at the sound of Beomgyu’s phone ringing again; without much of a thought, you reach for it and finally answer. 

“Leave him alone. He’s busy.” 

You hang up immediately after— the girl on the other side didn’t get the chance to utter a single word, and you find that you couldn’t care less as you toss his phone to the side and look over at Beomgyu— you’re smiling softly at the way he seems mortified at your action. 

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel bad,” you sigh, placing your hands on his chest and pushing, gently guiding the two of you to lay down— he remains inside you as he pulls you in close, your limbs heavy and tangling quickly as he mutters a soft no, I don’t; you smile. “Good. Cause I almost got mad again.”

He chuckles softly at that, falling quiet after; you look up at him to gauge his expression, finding that he’s lost in thought. After a few minutes, he meets your eyes meekly and finally speaks. 

“Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

A pause. You said a lot of things earlier— but as you retract on every little thing that's come from your mouth, you realize what he’s talking about— and you laugh, reaching to cup his cheeks fondly as you nod. 

“Of course I did,” you grin, pecking his lips, your heart fluttering wildly at the way he immediately chases after you for more after you pull away, “I meant all of it— and more.” 

Softly, he smiles. His arms that were wrapped around you pull you in close, closing the space between you and bringing you in for a slow, sweet kiss— he pulls away, leaning into your ear to whisper something with a coy smile. 

“So do you wanna play League of Legends later?”

You let out an annoyed yell and punch at his chest— you practically fuck his brains out, and this is all he can say?

“You’re such a fucking loser,” you mourn, hiding your face in your hands. 

Beomgyu laughs, and places a kiss on the top of your head. 

“But I’m your loser,” he says sweetly, nuzzling against your hair with a content sigh, “all yours.”

Under the covers of your hands, you smile. 

All yours. You like the sound of that. 

[artificialbreezy]

AN: sorry babies life’s been busy and brain has been broken. however please enjoy this Noah x Matty x reader thot 👀 also i’ve never written a threesome so if this sucks, so sorry

CW: MMF threesome, kinda mean!Noah, kinda mean!Matt, pet names, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral (M and F receiving)

Tag list: @thefallennightmare @xxkittenkissesxx @as-above-so-below1000 @alloraiona @abiomens @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @thatchickwiththecamera @english-fucker @lma1986 @pathion @tinyfairies @poisongirl616 @meekahy @foliosgirl @sacredthefran @romanreigns-supreme @thisbicc @80ssatori

NSFW under the cut ◡̈

What started as just a little joke, a fun time to tease Matty and get him riled up really ended up much worse for you than you thought.

Matty already was annoyed with your attitude from earlier in the day, and when he saw you getting a little too cozy with Noah that annoyance just grew.

Noah was quick to pick up the cat and mouse game you both were playing. Kinda chuckling to himself over seeing Matt’s cool slowly leave him. Whatever he thought, i’ll add to it.

Noah made sure he laid out the heavy flirty, the soft touches on your arms. The final straw from Matt, was watching Noah push a strand of hair behind your ear and lean down to whisper something.

Matt quickly left the room, running up the stairs quick to send you a text message to meet him up here. Stopping in his tracks at the text from Noah.

Noah: I don’t know Matt, think she needs a little more than just one person. I’ll bring her up to my room, maybe she’ll act right with a second set of eyes.

Matt was quick to respond.

Matt: Bring her up here. Chairs ready for you.

There wasn’t even a waiting period of more than 10 minutes before Noah turned the door handle.

“Bout damn time, come here baby.” Matt’s voice was soft. Confusion filling your mind, as Noah closed the door and turned the lock.

“Matty.. What are you doing?” voice barely above a whisper.

He pushed gently against your chest, forcing you to fall against Noah’s bed. “You wanted to act like a whore, so you’re gonna show Noah how much of a whore you are. Got it?”

You nodded slowly, eyes flicking between the man above you and the man across the room.

“He’s just gonna watch honey, unless you want more or you want him to leave.” His hand rubbed soft circles on your cheek.

You swallowed a little harder than intended, “he can stay, Matty.”

Before you had much time to think, Matt’s hands were on your throat. “Don’t know what’s gotten into you today honey. Been nothing but a brat.”

There was a small chuckle from behind Matt, one that made you push your thighs together. Hoping that Matt wouldn’t catch on.

He loosened his grip and looked down, “would you look at that, seems like someone’s trying to hide that she’s turned on.” His hand worked there way down to my thighs, “Lucky for me, you decided to dress like a whore today.” He mumbled while pushing the bottom of your skirt up.

Closing your eyes, the embarrassment of Noah watching while Matt was bullying you added a level of heat to your core you didn’t know possible.

There was a soft smack against my cheek. “Nuh huh, look at Noah for me yeah? Want you to watch him while I play with your cunt real quick.”

Matt knelt down in between my legs, pressing soft kisses from my shins up to my thigh. Forcing my legs further apart. Noah’s eyes glued to my center that was on display.

Matt’s head was resting against my thigh, finger running through my slick. A small gasp leaving my throat.

“Noah, come here a minute.” Matt turned his head to his friend. “If you close your legs, I wont be so nice. Better keep em open for us.”

Noah stood next to Matt, “Wanna see how fast she gets desperate? Way better to see up close.” His finger pressing against my entrance. My hips moving ever so slightly, begging for something. He pushed inside at a slow pace, stopping when he was just barely in. Staring up at me, he spoke. “Can Noah help me honey?”

“Uh huh, please.”

Noah nodded, climbing into bed behind you. Setting his legs next to yours, moving his hands to the front of you. Pushing your straps off your shoulders. His left hand finding a home against your tit.

Whimpers falling from your mouth.

Noah’s finger and thumb pinching your nipple, Matt pumping his finger at a slow pace, curling up to hit your sweet spot.

Noah was first to hear the footsteps outside the door, his other hand covering your mouth while neither boy let up on their movements.

“Hey, you guys alright?!” Jesse yelled through the door.

Matt taking this as a moment of payback, leaned forward wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

Groaning against Noah’s hand. He spoke up. “Yeah! Just showing Matt and y/n this game i’ve been playing. We’ll be back down in a bit.”

That seemed to be good enough for the man outside the door.

“Guess we better hurry up, Noah. Baby, want you on your stomach, ass up. Can you show Noah how good you are with your mouth when you’re not too busy running it? Promise i’ll give you what you want too.”

Quick to listen to your boyfriend, you rolled over, immediately lifting your ass how he asked. Noah watching you, waiting for your approval. “Uh huh, Matty. Promise i’ll be good.”

Both of them standing up, pushing their shorts down just enough to take out their cocks. Matt was quick to rub his tip against my clit and down to my hole.

As Matt pushed himself into me, Noah reached down and set his thumb against my mouth. “Need you to be real quiet, don’t need anyone coming back up here alright?” He spoke down to me.

Removing his thumb from my mouth, he brought his tip and tapped it against my lips. Opening my mouth, tongue running across his slit. A soft groan fell from his mouth, “Shit, Matt. Weren’t kidding when you said her mouth felt like velvet.”

Matt’s grip on my hips tightened, “should feel her cunt next time. Soft, wet and so fucking tight.” He groaned out through gritted teeth.

Legs threatening to close over the idea of Noah buried in my cunt and Matt down my throat.

“Think she likes that idea Noah, she’s fucking squeezing me so tight.”

Noah’s hips bucked at the feeling of my moan around his shaft. “Fuck, y/n. Relax your throat, breathe through your nose. Atta girl, good job.”

Matt’s thrusts becoming a little sloppy, “Honey i’m real fucking close. Gonna let me fill up your pretty pussy yeah? Gonna let Noah cum down your throat aren’t you? Gonna be our best girl. Promise we’ll take more time for you next time.”

There wasn’t much time between Noah’s grunt and his thrust stilling while he released his load down my throat and Matt’s soft groan while he thrusted his cum slowly into me.

Noah pulled out first, reaching down to wipe the messy makeup from under my eyes.

“Gonna pull out now,” Matt spoke softly. “Did so good honey, so so good.”

Noah walked out of the room, and came back fast with a towel and handed it to Matt. “You two stay here, i’ll be right back. Gonna take care of a couple things and then we’ll take care of you, sweets.”

Matt pressed a kiss to my back, “I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Matty.”

Brain stuck on Noah’s comment, and Matt’s mention of next time. But that’s a situation we can figure out later.

[lucianxxd]

Cyno and the God.

Summary: An unexpected bond between the Creator! Reader and Cyno.

Tw: Auditory hallucinations.

Chapter 1.

Cyno has been feeling pretty odd lately, every time he's on a mission nor on breaks he feels that someone, or something is watching him. At first he tries to ignore it but as time goes by it becomes worse, he hears laughter and muffled conversations when everything around him is peacefully silent, when he brings it up to Tighnari he seems not to understand and tells him to rest because it might be stress messing off his mind.

One night, Cyno found himself gazing at the ceilings while laying in bed, he doesn't understand why he's been acting like this and why he started acting like this, he finds it annoying hearing certain things that aren't even real but Cyno thank god that the voices were silent tonight as he falls asleep.

When morning arrived, Sumeru streets was already crowded and blissful, Cyno remembers it was already Nirmaata Ka Din, a festival dedicated for the Creator of Teyvat, but Cyno was too busy to celebrate the day instead he was on a mission capturing an researcher that commits an academic offense.

While on the researcher's trails he noticed that there were no longer voices speaking on his mind, he was relieved before going back focusing on his mission.

After hours of playing cat and mouse with the researcher Cyno finally caught up and found the man inside one of the abandoned pyramids looking at the ceilings where the light poured down from the cracks, Cyno was about to arrest the man when he spoke

"do you still hear them?"

He said in a quiet voice, Cyno just look at the man suspiciously "the voices, I believe you heard them often, yes??" the researcher said in a low shaky voice as he turned around and looked at Cyno in wide eyes, Cyno was confused about what was the man accusing him with "implying such lies does not save you from being arrested, plus accusing a general Matra with a strange psychosis would make your crimes even worst" Cyno said as he summoned his weapon, the man panic as he took a step back.

Cyno was about to arrest him when suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his head that feels like that it'll split his head open, Cyno fell in one knee holding his head as he groaned in pain as the strange voices came back and started flooding his head but this time it was louder, Cyno heard conversations, laughter and music overlap with each other, he screamed loud in pain and a single voice screams along with him before his vision went dark.

When Cyno gains his consciousness again he finds himself sitting down on a table full of feast with the Traveler and the others, he looks around confused while the table field with joyful conversations "you look pale all the sudden, is there's something wrong?" Candace asked Cyno who was beside him, Cyno just looks bewildered as he place his hand on his head pushing his hair back while breathing slowly

"h-how... How did I get here?" he asked and everyone look at each other confused then back to Cyno "what do you mean, you brought yourself in here?" Dehya said breaking the silence "brought myself-??... I-I don't remember bringing myself here, I was a-about to arrest someone and- and..."

"Cyno..." Cyno's endless chatter stops as Tighnari brings his mind back to reality "arrest someone? But when me and the Traveler found you in the desert you seemed like you had no idea why you were there in the first place?" Paimon spoke as she look at Cyno confused, Cyno look at her confused too having zero memory of him meeting her and the Traveler in the desert "plus, you were acting a bit strange when you enter the house, you seemed to be hesitant, or rather shy" Dehya chaimed in "that's true, in fact I've noticed how your expression melt when you started interacting with us, it's something I never thought the general mahamatra had..." Alhaitham said while crossing his arms, Cyno look at the man sternly as he crossed his arms too "and what kind of expression I was expressing?" he asked Alhaitham

"oh? You seriously forgot?" he answered in a haft taunted voice, Cyno was about to say something in annoyance "but still, you should be careful, mister Cyno, tiring your body so much can cause you to be mentally and physically unstable that's why you are showing signs of short memory term" Collie said, Cyno froze for a sec as he lower his head

'No, that's impossible, I swear it's more than that...' Cyno said to himself, but in the end, Cyno just sigh "I... I guess, you're right Collie, sometimes I overworked myself so much that I forgot to take good care of myself" Cyno said and the atmosphere of the room turned to relief, Cyno thanked everyone who was concerned for him and the night continued to be joyful again.

Next chapter.

A/N: thanks for reading hope you enjoyed this piece I wrote instead of sleeping, stay tuned for more chapters (I hope).

also, Nirmaata Ka Din is Hindu translated for Creator's day (just messing around with Google translator, idk).