#possible unrequited love etc etc

[swedishgoaliemafia]

Can I ask what the fic is...

It's something that 97% of my Tumblr followers will not be interested in, but it can be summed up as:

TJP is so proud of himself for being able to overcome the bloodthirsty urges of the aswang. He hasn't fed it in months and he feels great.

(He doesn't know that his tag partner Akira is taking it hunting at night.)

[astuteology]

PLACEMENTS THAT MAKES SOMEONE UNABLE TO MOVE ON🤡

⚠️ This may or may not resonate with you. All of the observations below are what i have seen many many times, reoccurring.

Edit: so people are getting confused about these placements. Is it coming from the planet or the house?

I'll clear it up for you all. See what sign are they in for example; Sun in aries is exalted while sun in libra is debilitated. Mercury in 3rd house is strong while mercury in 12th is weak.

~

Sun in someone's 5th house: rejection from them can take a big toll on your mental health, which can make you obsessive and unable to stop thinking about them.

Edit: if the sun is debilitated, it's coming from the sun person. If the 5th house consists of more than 2 aspects or planets, its the 5th house. In this case, sun is the core personality right.. if the sun is weak, it creates insecurities and egoistic nature. So if the 5th house person rejects the sun in any way, since sun is the owner of the 5th house, the sun goes crazy. Now if the 5th house is weak, let's say you have mars, saturn, uranus or pluto in the 5th natal, then you are likely to go crazy for the sun.

Venus in someone's 5th house: kinda same as the above but this placement makes someone come back again and again hoping for a different answer this time around. This placement can turn creepy pretty quickly.

Edit: venus feels very warm and good in both 5th and the 7th, also in the 12th if the sign and the placement are strong without any affliction. If one has Scorpio or aries venus, and the 5th house rejects them in any way, venus here goes insane.

Venus in conjunction with someone else's ascendant: this can make the either party be in denial about the breakup or the rejection. They tend to become stalkers and stalk every inch of the other person's social media. Even follow them home. Pretty scary if it's unrequited.

Edit: venus loves to be friends with ascendant in astrology. Venus being afflicted, let's say it's in Scorpio sign or it's in retrograde or it's making a close relationship with Saturn or mars, venus here goes kooky. If the ascendant person is insecure, let's say it has pluto, a weak lilith or neptune, the ascendant goes nutty. And if both the parties have this... scary.

Mars in the 12th and venus in the 8th: again, if the person is insecure, this can and will turn pretty nasty. They will blackmail you. May even post your private pictures online without you knowing or kidnap you. They can not deal with the break up or the rejection. Something about you rejecting them in any way triggers Something in them that makes them want to put you in your place (the 'place' is upto them).

Edit: mars is not friendly with the 12th and venus is not comfortable in the 8th. Afflictions on either side, creates this dynamics.

Venus in someone's 12th house: yes it can mean unrequited love BUT this can make a person became very depressed after getting rejected or after going through a breakup. In worst case scenario, the person can emotional or physically blackmail you, even threaten you.

Edit: venus feels nice and good in the 12th, since venus prefers giving unconditional love and support. But if one has weak venus (retrograde, martian plutonian venus, etc) venus gets empty here, and it hates being emptied. Same goes for the 12th, let's say you have Capricorn there, or you're 7th or 5th lord is in the 12th. In both the cases of venus and 12th house, the things i mentioned above, happens.

Mars in someone's 8th house: literally the worst of the worst. If either party already had a very low self esteem before meeting the other person, after that person goes away, this can make them come after you and hunt you down. Physical abuse is very much possible. There's no 'moving on' here.

Edit: mars DOES NOT like to stay hidden and in secrecy. So it disturbs the 8th house. The more afflictions here, the more mars becomes psychotic here.

Sun in the 8th house: they keep on coming back omg. They don't understand the word "no". For them, "no" means keep trying. Even if you say you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, they still think they have a chance. They are deaf, they can't hear no.

Edit: sun hates the 8th house when it comes to love and relationships. So if sun is afflicted and it feels uncomfortable in the 8th, or if venus is the lord of 8th or have libra or taurus in the 8th, the 8th house feels kind of seen here and it doesn't like that, because sun and venus are enemies. One likes to stay hidden, other wants to dig deep.

Moon in the 8th; they will try to bring you down in front of people. The types to make fun of your personal conditions just because they think it's gonna make you appear weak. It's just embarrassing and pathetic. You trusted that person with your personal things and this is what they give you just because their fucking brain can't handle the rejection. Moon in the 9th; bad mouthing. Will probably spread false rumors about you and will try so fucking hard to make people believe them, now if the other people already had something against you, they will believe them. Moon in the 1st and the 12th; will appear all good and nice in front of you, until one day you'll hear someone ask you about your personal life, which will get you thinking.. "how do they know?".... well... now you know who tf told them. They will tell your secrets to everyone they meet and turn the person against you.

Edit: moon hates 6th, 8th and the 12th house. Moon is a strong energy and it prefers to stay inside. You know the emotions you show, you rather feel it inside than show it to the world because yk how people can be. If moon or the house gets afflicted, let's say moon is in conjunction with Saturn or any of the above mentioned houses have north or the south nodes, they create toxic energies that i mentioned above.

Mars conjunct ascendant or mars making heavy aspects with the ascendant: although gentle and light, but this has the power to annoy you to your core. This aspect boosts the energy of the either party in the company of the other one which makes them dependent on the other gradually. Now if you have avoidant attachment style, I have a bad news for you.

Edit: see mars loves to be the leader and loves 1st house as well but without any grounding aspects, it gets out of control. Abuse happens here too, whether its verbal or physical. Depends upon the aspects and the planets here.

Mars venus conjunction and square: only GREAT when two sided, a "traumatic scene" when one sided. Now what do I mean by that? You see... we want to touch the person we feel a spark with, right? And if both party feels it, it's an electrifying thunderstorm that takes you to the deepest of the oceans and highest of the clouds. Now if the attraction is one sided... when you DO NOT want the attention, the help, the whatever from that person and here they fucking come again and again in front of your face. They are going to do disgustinggg things (don't even get me started on this).

Edit: mars and venus, masculinity and femininity, yin and yang, it's natural for them to be attracted to each other. Any change in the planets, takes away that attraction.

Mercury or neptune square ascendant or sun: Omg this is fucking annoying. The PERSON that you REJECTED because you DO NOT want to do ANYTHING with THEM and you POLITELY said NO but THEY DONT UNDERSTAND THAT SO THEY KEEP SOLVING THIS LIKE IT'S SOME KIND OF AN EQUATION UNTIL THEY GET THE ANSWER RIGHT. LHS=RHS. They keep on digging deep. They're gonna ask your friends, your family, anyone associated with you about your whereabouts, you number, you address because they don't think there is a valid reason that you rejected them. Now if you HATE when someone continously tries to butt into your life... I am sorry. Good luck with that anger cause they won't be hearing "no" anytime soon.

Edit: mercury is a curious planet, neptune is the planet of illusion, sun is the core personality and ascendant is the physical body of the soul. Square means there's a friction, and the solution is compromise. Now everyone is different, with strong moral authority and strong personality, so one may not want the connection, and the other is desperately after them. If mercury doesn't want to build a connection with sun or ascendant, the sun/asc goes mad, it kinda hurts the ego. If neptune doesn't want to get involved, the sun/asc creates their own perception of the neptune, since it's an illusion. If ascendant/sun does not want a bond with either mercury or neptune, both mercury and neptune tries to dig deep into it. Both can't accept. Both want to know why. It's gonna be hard for any of these placements of see the reality. Saturn NEEDS to be with either of them.

There are more, but this is it for now. Thank you!🤍

Edit: i'm genuinely so sorry for any confusion you had. Hope i cleared it!

[ihavethedreamies]

Second Choice | San [NSFW]

Choi San - ATEEZ

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~11.1k O_o

Pairing: San x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Actual Plot, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Friends-to-Lovers, One-Sided Love, Sharing a Bed, Comfort

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Precious, Sweetheart, Love, Pretty/Sweet Girl, etc.), Nightmares/Bad Dreams, Tears and Crying, Swearing, Unrequited Love, Kind of a Love Triangle, Kissing, Dirty Talk, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation (Just a tad),  Dacryphilia (Kind of), Creampie Kink (Not really Breeding so…), Marking/Hickeys/Scratches, Wall Sex, Window Sex, Mirror Sex, Big Dick! San, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom! Reader is on the pill), Multiple Rounds

Author's Note: Holy Fuck, look at what I did 🫢. This is…long, as you can see. There is about equal parts fluff and angst and possibly even more smut. Had this brewing in my head for a few days after I went down a San rabbit hole. I went through a roller coaster ride of emotions writing this, so good luck reading it, my dudes.

Wooyoung is not in this, but he is mentioned and is somewhat of a love rival? Also Reader has a dog in this, so sorry if you don't like dogs or something…

PS. The middle pic of the banner is Mark and Renjun 🤪

Revised (1/31/25) - I forgot to change the name to (Y/N), so I fixed it!

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! Share, even if its to the other sites! Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

Glancing at the clock, tick-tick-ticking away, you sigh; 2:38 am. It’s much, much too early (or too late) to be awake, but you know there’s no way you can fall asleep. The first nightmare wasn’t nearly as bad, so you were willing to go back to sleep, but when it happened again, you just couldn’t. So, you’re sitting on the couch, some random rerun playing on the TV. You have to keep the volume low, not wanting to wake San up. He’s sleeping with the door open so his cat can come and go. Byeol is sleeping in the armchair and you’re jealous that he can do so in peace. San’s staying in Wooyoung’s room while he’s gone, and since your sister had somewhere to be that weekend as well, you’re home alone. It freaks you out to be alone in such a big place, never really having lived on your own. San offered to stay with you, and you were a bit reluctant to agree, but did so. It’s not that you aren’t close with San, you are, since Wooyoung is your roommate, it’s just odd without Wooyoung there too. Turning around to glance behind the couch, you dog is snoring away in her dog bed, laying on her back, legs folded down over her chest. She’s so sweet, but she’s a husky and therefore makes the bed way too hot for her to sleep with you. Every so often, you have really bad nightmares, and normally slip in next to your older sister and be able to sleep in peace. However, she isn’t home, so you have to sit on the couch and watch the TV, at an hour where nothing good is on.

“Why are you up?” San’s voice startles you, and you spin around again to look where he’s coming from behind you. Your dog’s soft snores stop, but she doesn’t even roll over from her spot, falling back to sleep easily.

“Nightmare.” You shrug, turning back around and he shuffled sleepily around the couch to sit next to you.

“Couldn’t go back to sleep?” His eyes are almost closed, and his hair is mussed up. He’s wearing a pair of thin black pants with a thin sweater to sleep. The collar is very low, and paired with his wide shoulders, you can see most of his toned chest. By that point, you’re used to it, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t tempted to ogle him.

“No. I…Uh, normally crawl into bed with Nara, but…” You shrug again, pulling your fluffy robe back up to cover your shoulder, only in a thin tank top underneath. Picking at a stray string on your own thin pajama pants, you feel antsy under his gaze.

“What about Cookie?”

“She’s too warm…” You both sit in silence for a good minute or two, and you try to just watch the TV. It seems he’s thinking.

“Um, I’m going to use the bathroom… Do you… Do you want to sleep in my- Wooyoung’s bed with me?”

“No! I…I mean…” You clear your throat.

“I… That’s fine, but would you mind…using my bed?” You cannot sleep in Wooyoung’s bed, especially with San. You’re willing to try anything at this point, feeling exhausted, and you really need to sleep. Last time you tried to tailor a dress while so tired, you poked your fingers at least seven times.

“Yeah, be right back.” He flashes a sleepy smile, shuffling toward the bathroom, the sweater crooked, revealing part of his shoulder. Licking your lips, mouth suddenly dry -nervous- you shut the TV off, but hesitate to get up. When he comes back out, you finally force yourself up and you lead him toward your bedroom. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, your light string around the room glowing a gentle deep pink.

“You need that off?” you ask him, pointing at the lights.

“No.” He moves toward the bed, turning back to look at you, waiting. Swallowing hard, you undo your robe, acting like you’re naked underneath. After is falls, you dash to get under the covers, embarrassed about your think top and lack of bra. Gently, he gets on the other side, and you lie down stiffly, flinching when he pulls the blanket over himself, the higher up on you. Your face heats and since you have no makeup, you’re sure he can see you get red. Maybe not in the low light…

“Do you want me to hold your hand?” San’s voice is very soft, and you feel like crying. You’re not for sure if you’re just that flustered or embarrassed, or what. Just replying with a nod, you turn on your side, not really able to look at his face, but his hand is already up between the two pillows. Your hand shakes a bit, reaching for him, and he gives you a warm smile, linking his fingers with yours. He isn’t the biggest of the friend group, but he’s still much bigger than you, his hand nearly swallowing yours completely.

“I’m right here, you can go to sleep.” He whispers and you let your eyes close, hoping he can’t see the tears hanging on your lashes. It’s still taking you a while to fall asleep, lying there with your eyes closed for nearly half an hour. At this point, you’re more distracted with his hand holding yours than the thought of having another nightmare. San’s always so soft and gentle with you, despite his harsh appearance. He’s sweet and is always careful to make sure you aren’t too uncomfortable. You know, deep down, he probably likes you, but you just ignore the idea. It’s like some weird love mismatch going on. Your sister is in love with her friend-with-benefits, Wooyoung likes your sister, you like Wooyoung, and San likes you. You know Wooyoung likes your sister, but he has no chance in hell. Your sister is enamored with Younghoon, and the only reason they aren’t an actual couple is because she’s in denial, afraid of commitment, and doesn’t like feeling feelings.

Still being most awake, you have to make sure and hold completely still when you barely feel his fingers brush a stray strand or two of hair off your forehead. You hear and feel him shuffle just a bit closer, not having to far in your full-sized bed. Holding as still as you can, you tense further when he lightly presses a kiss to your forehead. You bite the inside of your lip to keep it from quivering. Only relaxing when he settles, you don’t open your eyes till you can tell he’s asleep from the way his breathing changes. Blearily, you look over his face, so peaceful and pretty. Despite falling asleep, his hand is still just as secure in yours. You wonder what time it is, and as you do, sleep slowly overcomes you as well.

~₸o₸~

When you wake up in the morning, your bed is empty next to you, and you can hear Cookie eagerly inhaling her food.

“Slow down, you’ll end up throwing up.” You hear San scold the dog and when you roll over to get out of bed, the clock reads 11:47.

“Shit!” You sit up quickly, yanking your tank top and pajama pants off, slipping on a bra, white t-shirt, and max dress over. Your hair is messy in its braid, but once you take it out, your hair falls in nice soft waves. Your feet softly thump on the hardwood floor as you job down the hall.

“Sorry I slept so late!” You call to hime, he’s resting against the counter, watching the husky rapidly crunch on her food.

“It’s okay!” He assures and you dash past the kitchen, toward your studio to start working. It’s good you work from home.

“I think it’s because I fell asleep so late!” The only reason he hears you was because he follows after you, plopping down in your rolling chair as you start getting pins and thread out.

“When do you have to go to practice?” San’s a dance instructor and it’s extremely convenient that his studio is just across and down the street a bit from your apartment complex.

“Three.” He gets up, turning the chair around so he can sit in it backwards, backrest to his chest. You huff, tucking hair behind your ear again, but it falls into your view again. Grumbling, you grab your glasses off the table, putting them on to rest on the end of your nose to get the right angle to focus on where you’re doing a difficult stitch. Gladly you can hear his footsteps on the wood floor; you’re able to prevent a flinch when his fingers find your hair. Kneeling behind where you are to get the right height, you force yourself to continue the stitch, just very slowly as he braids your hair for you. Not having a normal hair tie, he grabs a stray rubber band from your kit to tie the end.

“Thanks.” You murmur, pretending to be focused to hide your reaction. You hope your head is bowed enough he can’t see your red cheeks.

“What do you want for lunch?” You try to maintain some kind of casual normalcy. He hums and you can hear the chair roll and inch when he sits back down. Him watching you never fazed you before, but his gaze feels like fire on your back.

“Pizza?”

“Sure, if you get my phone, you can reorder what we got last time.” You wave toward your device on the desk next to you.

“Code?”

“Same as the front door.”

He types in the number, and you hear it click open, and he taps away on it. Glancing over at him, your eyes focus on where his partially unbuttoned shirt it tucked into his pants. You’d hemmed that pair of jeans so he wouldn’t have to pin them tighter anymore.

“Use the 3033 card?”

“Yes.”

“Twenty-three minutes.” He tells you, placing the order then goes to sit back down.

“How much?”

“Like eighteen.”

“Can you get me the thread in slot L-2?” you ask, motioning behind you toward the thread storage. He rolls over and you hear shuffling, keeping your hand out so he can rest the spool in it. Expecting him to just hand it to you, he actually gets out of the chair and sits on the floor next to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Buttons in this fabric tend to get loose easily, or fall off, so I’m having to fasten them differently. You deftly and quickly start your task, and he marvels at how fast you do it. Tying the thread off, you stick the needle in the pincushion you have on your wrist, grabbing a longer one again.

“You’re really good at his.” San looks at the smooth stitches you have done, even though they’re by hand, not machine.

“Practice.” You let a small smile grace your lips.

“Do you always do everything by hand?”

“Depends on what I’m doing most of the time, but some clients want it completely hand sewn.” You pull a pin out, dropping it back into the little box and continuing. You fall back into rhythm even with his intense gaze watching what you’re doing. His fingers mess with a scrap of fabric lying on the floor, then he picks it up, weaving random pins through it, trying to mimic what you’ve done.

“Can you teach me to sew?”

“Probably. It’s not hard. Getting to this point is though.”

“Did you teach Wooyoung?” Your hands freeze at the question, heart thudding harder.

“N-no. Well, I tried, but he kept poking himself.” He laughs.

“Sounds about right- ow!” Your eyes flick to him, sticking the end of his finger in his mouth, putting the pin riddled fabric down on the desk.

“Like that~” You giggle, and he huffs bashfully. He keeps watching, getting up quickly when the doorbell rings so he can get the pizza. Finishing your stitch, you take the pin cushion off and make sure there isn’t anything sharp on the floor, then lay your glasses down as well.

“Hot, hot!” He breathes hard through his mouth, trying to cool off the bite as you walk out. He wasn’t expecting the sauce to still be so hot, but the pizza place is very close. It only takes so long since it’s busy for lunch. You let him talk while you both eat, and you only partially listen, not understanding most of it anyway; some video game you haven’t ever played and have no knowledge of.

“I think I’m going to head to the studio now.” San helped you clean up, then sits on the edge of the entryway to get his shoes on.

“Bye, (Y/N)!” The door shuts, leaving you staring at it. Sight Deeply, you go back to your work, trying to not let your thoughts loop out of control.

~ų-ų~

Your eyes fly open, chest heaving, sweat pooling at the small of your back. Breathing hard, you stare at the small star-like dots on your ceiling.

“Fucking-“ You sit up, leaning forward and rubbing over your face with your hands. Huffing, you throw your comforter to the side and get out of bed. Stomping over to your dresser, you put on the pajama shirt that matches your pants over your tank. Grabbing your phone, you shuffle out to the living room, hesitating before dropping yourself and your device onto the couch. Looking toward the door to the other bedroom, it’s slightly propped open for the cat. Your dog is noticeably absent, so you walk softly over to the door, peaking in. Cookie is laying at the foot of the bed on a spare blanket San most likely had laid out, Byeol loafing in the curve of the husky’s body. The sight makes you smile, and you glance to where San is sleeping. Laid out like a starfish, the blanket hits him around the middle, and one of his feet is sticking out from under.

“(Y/N)?” His voice catches your attention when you start to step out of the doorway.

“Y-yeah?”

“Did you have another nightmare?”

“Yes.” When he starts to get out of bed, you try to protest.

“Come on.” He ignores your stumbling words, sliding past you in the doorway, his hand grabbing yours as he moves. He leads you back to your room, getting into your bed without hesitation.

“San-“ You get in as well, but stay sitting up as he lies down.

“Just…sleep.” He mumbles, grabbing the back of your shirt and pulling you down into his arms. Shuffling under you so he can get more comfortable, your head ends up resting on his shoulder, his other arm around your waist. He falls back asleep fast, his fingers that were running over your hair stilling. Your heart is thudding hard, you can even hear it pulsing. How the hell are you supposed to fall asleep like this? You ponder the question, but at the same time, your eyes are growing heavy, and sleep is washing over you. At first, you’re only about half-asleep, somewhat aware still of his soft breathing. Right as you begin to actually go to sleep, you feel a soft press on the corner of your mouth. This wakes you up fully, but you manage to keep your eyes closed, body limp. Did he just kiss you? His fingers are back to running over your hair, “you have no idea, huh?” His voice is so quiet that even though your nose is near his throat, you barely hear it. San sighs, kissing your forehead, you can tell this time for sure. Finally, you can’t fight sleep off, and fall asleep in his arms.

~T3T~

Once again, when you wake up in the morning, he’s already out of bed. You can’t hear anything else, and when you glance at the clock, it’s a little past 9. Getting up with a stretch, you look to the empty side of your bed. Giving in to your intrusive thoughts, you pull the side of the comforter he’d been using up to your nose and you sigh. Smells like him, and you hate how good that makes you feel. Dropping the blanket like it’s got, you scamper out of bed and make your way down the hall. Peaking around the archway that leads into the main room of the apartment, you see he’s not in the kitchen and the bathroom door is open. Your dog barks happily and comes to greet you and as you pet her, you notice a note on the counter. He’s gone out to do some things and lets you know he’ll be back for supper. You aren’t sure if you’re disappointed or relieved at this. You only have two, maybe three more nights before your sister returns; Wooyoung is supposed to not long after. You’re worried what you might let, or want to, happen the longer you’re there with San, just the two of you. For some reason, you feel horrible about your rising affections with San, but you have no commitment to Wooyoung in any way but your own feelings toward him. It would probably be better if you try to move on, but there’s a small part of you that hopes your sister will get with Younghoon, then Wooyoung can move on and go to you. While you logically understand that will probably not happen, you still hope.

Continuing with your day as normal, you finish the suit you’d been working on and are able to move on to a dress that was commissioned. You enjoy making whole ensembles more than making adjustments and other altering jobs. Going over the list, you see you have nearly all of the materials and supplies already, but you most likely will need even more of the right color thread. You can wait a bit though, since you aren’t sure when you’d run out. As you’re rechecking your list, your phone starts to ring. Hitting the answer button and putting it on speaker, you put all the supplies on the desk.

“This is (Y/N).”

“Hello, Miss Hwang. I’m a delivery driver for Blooming Day Flowers. I’m just wanting to make sure you’ll be at home in the next fifteen minutes?”

“Oh, uh, yes.” You have no idea who could have sent flowers.

“Great, thanks!” He hands up and you blink back at the flashing ‘call ended’ on your phone. Trying to keep going with your job, it’s hard, your thoughts wandering to who the heck sent flowers. When the bell rings, you quickly go to the door and the man on the other side smiles, holding a bouquet of flowers in a vase. There are two different purple flowers, some a golden yellow, and more smaller white filler flowers.

“Oh, thank you!” You take the bouquet, and the man has you stamp on his clipboard. He takes his leave, and you move further into the apartment, door shutting behind you. Placing the vase on the counter, you pluck the little card from the top, reading the text on the front.

“Praying for a good night’s sleep! Inspired by holistic sleeping-remedy flowers: Lavender, Passionflower, California Poppy and Valerian!” You read out loud, figuring out who it’s from before you flip the card around. You have to take a deep breath, fighting back tears once again.

Thought this might help? ~San

You take several measured, deep breaths. It doesn’t work, a tear rolling down your cheek before you can stop it. Placing your hand down on the counter, you don’t have to get close to the bouquet to smell the fresh lavender. Not normally one for flowers, this is the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you. You lick your lips, letting out a shuddering breath, you can taste the salt of your tears. You’d thought he has a crush on you -something small- but this? It seemed like he lo-

“Fuck.” You jaw clenches, the card crinkling where your thumb presses it too hard. Sniffing aggressively to prevent your nose from running, you let the card go, smoothing it out a bit. You sniffle had again, upset with your own mixed emotions and stomp back to your studio. You were trying but failing to continue working without getting tears and snot on the red fabric.

~τ-τ~

“(Y/N)! I got food!” You hear him easily even though you’re back in your room, the door closed. For the last house you’ve been sitting on the floor, back to the wall, facing your bed. You had tried lying down, but the comforter still smells like him. You tried to read and distract yourself, but you kept getting the pages wet. Tears are still drying on your face and new ones come up when you hear his voice. You’re so tired at that point, head pounding. Your hand is at your mouth, arms crossed on top of your knees, and you bite at your thumbnail. Working for another three hours after you got the delivery, you put it out of mind, but everything came back when you spotted them on the counter, coming out of your studio.

“(Y/N)?” San calls again, but you still don’t reply.

“(Y/N)?” He’s coming down the hall and you get up reluctantly, sniffing hard while grabbing a tissue. You blow your nose, and he knocks on the door.

“Come in.” Your voice is a bit hoarse and when he comes in, seeing your eyes and cheeks red, tissue rubbing at your nose, his face falls.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He immediately comes forward, hands going to your cheeks, thumbs running over the skin.

“J-just…” You force a smile.

“I was moved from you sending me flowers, then I was reading…” Your lie is pretty believable since your book is still open, face down on the bed.

“Oh.” He slumps in relief, and you wish he hadn’t removed his hands from your face.

“You really liked the flowers?” His brow furrows nervously.

“Yes, San. They’re…” Your breath shudders but you cover it with a soft chuckle.

“They’re beautiful, and so thoughtful.” You play with the balled-up tissue in your hand, not able to look him in the eye.

“Good! I got food from the place on the corner you like so much.” He leads you out to the main room and you slowly follow. You try to maintain your normal attitude while you eat, and it gets easier as you both joke and he tells you about his day. Your phone dings and you glance down. When the name registers, your entire body stiffens and you exhale hard, picking the device up to look at the message.

You doin’ good? Is Sannie playing nice?

Wooyoung…

“Is it Woo?”

“Yeah.” You nod a bit, typing out a simple ‘yes’, and send it. His phone dings then as well and he scoffs at what he reads.

“He knows you’re lying.” San shoots you a deadpan look and your jaw drops a bit, then you clear your throat.

“Why does he think that?”

“You didn’t capitalize it. It’s too short too.” San sticks his tongue against his cheek, making it poke out. You roll your eyes.

“Bitch.” You sneer, grabbing the phone and redoing the message.

I’m not lying. I’m busy. Grow up.

You aren’t normally terse with him like that. He’d definitely know something is up. Backspacing, you redo it once again.

I’m not lying. We’re busy eating. I’m fine, and yes, San is being nice. Really nice.

You hit send and you don’t get a reply after he reads it, but San’s phone goes off. He glares at what he sees, not bothering to reply himself, putting his phone face down on the counter; he even mutes it.

“What did he say?” You’re curious but try to maintain a neutral tone.

“Little shit, just something about not becoming your new best friend.” It’s a lie and you know it, but let the topic drop.

“I’m going to play a game with the guys for a bit, do you want to watch?”

“You’re gonna use Woo’s computer?”

“Sure am.” He smiles, his dimples revealing themselves. You consider it, then you’re about to say yes, then consider it again.

“I think I’ll finish the show I started the other day.” You tell him and he shrugs, going off to do what he said after cleaning up his dishes. You haven’t finished yet, so you take the last few bites, then just leave the dish in the sink. Slumping over to the couch, you put on the show and only kind of watch it. You’re rewatching it anyway…

~ò×ó~

“Fuck!” You sit up, your heart beating so fast, breathing so hard you feel like you’d just run a mile. Not caring how bad it messed up your hair, you bury your fingers in at the scalp, pulling on the strands to center yourself in the waking realm. Why the hell were your nightmares coming back so strong? In the low pink light of your room, you glare at the bouquet of flowers on your dresser. They did jack shit…

“Don’t take it out on the flowers…” You scold yourself, sitting back against the headboard. You do so quite hard, enough so to rattle the frame, and the attached nightstand. The glass of water you had on it falls over, the glass shattering on the hard wood.

“Shit!” You almost get out of bed, then move to go to the other side so you don’t land barefoot on glass.

“(Y/N)?” San peaks his head in, not in his pajamas yet, so he must’ve just gotten done with his game.

“Hey, wait!” He stops you as you move to start picking up the pieces, slippers on just in case. He’s in crocs, so he takes the trash can from you, using his sleeve over his hand to gently pick up the fragments and throw them out. He looks up when you hand him a roll of tape. He pulls the section off and tears it off, smacking it against the floor to pick up any small bits that might be left.

“What happened?” San throws the tape away too and you put the bin back down.

“I…I had another nightmare, and so I rattled the bed frame and the glass on the nightstand fell…”

“Another? Maybe you can’t sleep without me~?” He smirks playfully, but it falls when he notices you don’t even twitch your lips.

“Give me like five minutes.” He holds his hand up to motion for you to wait, heading back down the hall. Sighing you sit on the bed, feet on the floor. Staring at a small scratch on the wall that was left by your keys when you tripped and caught yourself once, you ponder what your bad dreams might mean. Why were you have so many? You almost never had more than one in such a short time frame. Was it really just from not having your sister around? That doesn’t make sense…

“Here, let’s get to sleep.” San comes back in, wearing a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Seriously? Out of all the things he could possibly wear, he has to put on that? Did he not know what the simple combination does to girls?

“Come here.” He’s gotten under the covers, arms open, waiting for you. Swallowing hard, you lie back down in his embrace, feeling comforted already. That scares you, honestly, almost more than the bad dreams.

“What are you thinking about?” He sees your pensive face.

“Nothing-“

“No. Tell me.” You huff in reply.

“Did…Did you kiss me yesterday night?” You feel him stiffen, much like you normally do.

“I did, on the forehead-“

“No. Tell me.” You shoot back at him. San stays quiet for a second and you can almost hear the wheels in his head turning.

“Yes.” His reply is soft, like the kiss on the corner of your mouth from before.

“What do I have no idea about?” He really hadn’t thought you were awake, and he shifts nervously before responding. The man is taking his sweet time, and you’re about to give up, not having the energy to press the issue.

“How much…I like you…” He finally gets out; your suspicions are confirmed. He thought you’d flinch, stiffen up, even hitch your breath, but he gets nothing, so he pulls way enough to look at your face. It’s flat, but your eyes are glossy.

“How much?” His eyes widen at your question.

“How much?” He repeats.

“How much do you like me?” He licks his lips, nervous, but then the nerves seem to dissipate. The hand on your waist goes up to cup your cheek, the arm under your head wrapping around your shoulders. When his lips lightly touch yours, you at first thought the contact generated a static shock. But he doesn’t flinch back, instead he fully presses his lips to yours. You shiver, easily melting into the kiss. Your hands fly up to cup his jaw, the ends of your fingers burying into his hair. He grunts, rolling a bit so he’s leaning over you some. You whine when his hand rests on your hip, thumb brushing the exposed skin from where your tank top had rode up. Your hands move down, one going to scratch at the hair on the nape of his neck, the other slinking under the collar of his shirt, over his broad back. San takes the opportunity when your whine slightly parts your lips, tongue brushing the lower one. You let him in, whining louder as his tongue tastes yours. He’s over you complete then, forearm easily holding his weight over you, the hand on your hop slipping lower past the waistband of your sleep pants. Deep down, you know you shouldn’t, know you might regret it, feel horrible, feel like you used him, feel like you’re somehow betraying Wooyoung…

“(Y/N)-“ San pulls away from the kiss, both of your lips starting to swell from the pressure, saliva leaving a strand of connection.

“Just- please- need you-“ You heave out and he groans. Making sure he’s still closer enough to brush his lips over you, he gets up on his knees, kneeling over you more, one thigh pressing between yours to keep your legs open. He wrestles with his shirt a bit, pulling away enough to get it over his head and off, his mouth sealing back to yours as the throws the shirt behind him somewhere. As San’s tongue runs over your own, the roof of your mouth, your teeth, anywhere it can reach, you can’t help but feel over him. His soft skins stretches over his toned chest and abs, his broad shoulders and back leading down to his narrow waist. While he swallows your tongue and moans, his hands deftly undo the buttons of your pajamas shirt, hauling you up to sit so he can take it off. Your tank is swiftly removed as well, joining his own shirt somewhere on the floor. He bites your lip when he pulls back from the kiss, leading a trail down to your jaw, neck, over your throat and collar bone. His hands on your bare skin feel searing, one on your lower back to lead you to lift your hips. San leads you to wrap your still covered legs around his waist, his other hand cupping your breast, kneading the flesh, the skin pebbling into goosebumps from the sensation. You gasp hard as his lips warp around one of your nipples, and at the same time, he grinds his growing hard-on into your rapidly soaking cunt through bout of your pants. He’s spurred on by your breathing picking up, soft moans escaping you. As he kisses over to and seals his lips over your other nipple, he wrestles your pants and panties off at the same time.

“S-San-!” Your whole body twitches as his fingers meet your glistening folds, the first easily sliding in, wiggling against your walls.

“Fucking soaked, precious.” He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and through your fingers pressing against him. You mewl when his kisses go back up to your neck, full on whimpering when his tongue licks a path from the bow of your collar bone and up to the base of your ear.

“Gonna fuck you so good, baby girl.�� His low voice, right in your ear, takes your breath away, his second fingers spreading you open. He tries to chuckle at your yelp as he softly presses his teeth against the skin of your neck, sucking hard, working blood to the surface of your skin to leave his mark.

“W-wat-!” Your body shudders, back arching, head thrown back when he adds a third finger, his thumb pressing over your clit.

“Gotta get your cute little pussy ready, you’re too tight for my cock, love.” San’s nose runs over your throat, then rests his forehead on your collarbone. He looks down at where you’re sucking his fingers in, not able to hold in his mirth. He loves how tiny you feel under him, writhing and whimpering. He’s been waiting for this for so long, and he knows you’re vulnerable, and shouldn’t be taking the opportunity, but he’s weak. If you’re going to ask for him, he’ll give you what you want.

“Fu- God! San~!” Your cunt clenches his fingers, pulsing with your heart as he circles your clit, lips going back to hover over yours.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” He prompts and you immediately do, blunt nails digging into the skin of his upper back, head lolling against the pillow. San smirks above you, watching your eyes roll back in your head as your cunt spasms, soaking his hand. Your body shivers one last time as he removes his fingers, barely registering as he laps his tongue over his fingers, groaning at your taste. Your tired eyes try to focus as he climbs off the bed, trying to also figure out what he’s doing. You yelp when his hands on your ankles yank you down the bed, the comforter falling to the floor and he kneels on it, leveling his face with your swollen cunt.

“San-?!” Your voice ends in a very undignified choking sound as he buries his tongue inside your core, filling the voice his fingers had left. He wasn’t planning on fucking you open with his tongue; you taste too fucking good. His strong hands grip your inner thighs, so hard he’s definitely going to leave bruises, holding you open. Your body is still weak from your orgasm, so you can’t fight him anyway. San presses his tongue against your gummy walls, pulling back so he can swipe through your golds, then circle your clit. You’re still sensitive, the sensation jolting you, he can feel your muscles spasm under his hands. Your next orgasm is coming on fast, and your fingers weave through his hair, trying to ground yourself through your hands, his own not allowing your hips to ride his tongue.

“S-San~!” You fall apart on his tongue that time and he eagerly drinks and swallows every drop that falls from your needy cunt, reveling in the pleasure he’s bringing over you. Kissing your swollen nub, you whimper, and he stands up; even though his pants are loose, they’re tight around his hard cock. Your eyes are glazed over, head rolling to the side, staring at the wall. Your gaze is drawn back to him as he pulls the waistband of his pants and boxers up and over his swollen dick, and your mouth waters when the clothing falls away, leaving him naked.

“Fuck.” You huff, still catching your breath and he can’t fight the smug grin that spreads over his face. No wonder he felt the need to prep you, you don’t even know if you can get your fingers all the way around him.

“Come here, precious.” He easily lifts you to haul you back up the bed, gently letting your head hit the pillow. The other he brings to rest under your lower back, finally letting you down. Your hips angle up allows him to sit up higher on his knees to give him better leverage. When the fat head of his cock meets your cunt, you clench your jaw, readying for the stretch,

“Wait, do I need a con-“

“Just fuck me, San.” You want to sound more assertive, but you just whine like a spoiled child.

“Okay, precious~” His smirk grows, and he wraps his arm around your left leg by the knee, the other leg spread with his hand on your inner thigh. When San starts to press in, you gas with each breath, trying to breathe though him splitting you open. You’re so tight around him, gummy walls erratically spasming around his cock, your wet heat feeling incredible. He groans low and long as your cunt swallows each inch of him, somehow accommodating his thick length.

“Such a good girl, sweetheart.” He coos as he bottoms out, adjusting your legs to spread you open even further, giving him a perfect view. You’re so wet, your slick already glistening on the base of his cock. Your entire body is in shock, almost. Everything seems to be spasming at him rearranging your guts, filling you so completely and wonderfully, you ponder if anyone could suffice after him. You’re already drunk on his delicious cock, and he hasn’t even moved yet. He can tell from having felt it on his fingers and tongue, that your cunt is throbbing, ready for you to cum again. He’s going to fuck you through your high so many times that tears would flow over your cheeks again, but from bliss instead of sorrow and frustration. He wants to fuck every little negative thought out of your pretty head, drive away the memory of the nightmares, wants to leave you with only thoughts of him; his hands, his lips, his tongue, his voice, his cock… He’s already making headway it seems.

“Can I move, precious?” San leans down to gently kiss at the corner of your mouth, tongue brushing over your bottom lip. You nod, whining, not able to think to get a word out. He barely pulls out an inch, making you whimper, the searing stretch filling you with painful pleasure. San artfully snaps his hips, the tip of his cock hammering your back wall and cervix, pelvis meeting your clit, sending you even closer to the edge. The next thrust is a little deeper, a litter harder, and your whole body goes limp; the third thrust nearly makes you black out. Your cunt spasms, squirting slick and wet over his groin and balls, core clenching around his cock so tight he had to breathe hard to hold back, He chuckles as your orgasm waves through you over and over, and he wonders how long you’ve needed to get fucked. He’s so glad he’s the one to do so, and he’ll eagerly do it again and again, till you’re dumb and stupid for him. A tiny voice inside him keeps repeating to him that he’ll always be able to fuck you better than Wooyoung, that his best friend would never be able to ravish you the way he’s planning. Over and over-

“San, please, please…” He isn’t sure what you’re begging for, but your high has laid, so he continues. Throwing your legs over his elbows, pressing closer to you so you’re nearly folded in half, he huffs a laugh.

“You want me to fuck you good, love?”

“Yes!”

“Want my cock to fuck you stupid?”

“Yes, fuck, please~!” His hips roll, leaving only a bit more than the head of his cock in you, before filling you fast and hard again. Your kind of already flimsy headboard thuds hard against the brick wall, creaking under the power of his hips slamming his cock into you, skin slapping, grunts leaving him and mewls leaving you. Your fingers turn white as they grip your sheets hard, worried that the worn material might tear despite your blunt nails.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect, (Y/N)~” San groans, letting one of your legs go so you wrap it around his narrow waist. The now free hand grips over the one you had up by your head, easing your fingers out of the sheets so they can instead weave through his. San’s lips fall back to yours, thrusts growing shallower but no less hard, you feel like he might dislodge a kidney with the strength behind each motion. As his pelvis meets yours, he grinds into your clit, and you’re growing closer to another orgasm, and he’s planning on letting go with you. He tries so hard to maintain his rhythm, almost having to just grind into you to keep control, fucking so deep inside, you think he’s in your throat.

“Cum for me, precious. Come on my cock.” San pulls back from the kiss, and his words grant your relief, your final climax really does make your vision go black, flashes of white dotting your vision and his voice rumbles through the room as his hot cum paints your insides white. He cums so much that his release spills out from where he splits you open, a mix of your cum dripping onto the sheets. You fall limp like a rag doll, eyes closed, chest heaving, little whines accompany each breath. He’s heaving for air as well, the emotions he felt from finally being inside you, pleasuring you, hits him. If he already liked you, he’s truly infatuated now, never wanting to leave your hold or your warmth.

~(\δωδ(\~

When consciousness finally washes over you, it takes you a second to figure out why the hell you’re so sore. Your thighs are sore, random spots on your neck and shoulders, your hips, back, and cunt. Everything hits you then, and your body protests as you wiggle on the bed, trying to get the strength to sit up. Your bed is once again empty despite having shared it for the night.

“Fuck…” You wince as your lower half pulses as you get out of bed, legs incredibly weak. You’re naked as the day you were born, and you pretty much limp over to the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you finally look in the mirror, gasping. There are several dark red and purple marks over your neck, shoulders and chest, one mark even has teeth marks.

“Choi San!” You scold despite his absence, rubbing the little bruises and wincing. You’re glad you work from home, because there’s no way to cover the hickeys in the middle of May. You take a shower, the hot water washing away many different layers from your body. You wince when the water flows over your sore pussy, still a bit swollen from being pleasantly ruined by San’s monster cock. Getting out of the shower, you get dressed in a matching tank top and shorts, the mint-colored fabric is soft and loose. There’s no way you can handle any pressure on your cunt, so you go commando. San’s already seen everything anyway. Nervously and shakily going down the hall to the main room, you hear the shower running. Cookie lifts her head from where she lays right in front of the door, slowly getting up and stretching before going to greet you.

“Good morning~” You coo at your pup and then limp over to the fridge; your dog whines a bit at your strange gait. She watches with interest as you pull some ingredients out of the fridge, needing some protein to compensate for the intense work out you’ve gone through. When your husky smells the bacon as soon as you open the package, she starts to wag her tail, whimpering.

“No begging.” You scold your dog, and she’s so well trained she simply hangs her head and trudges away, down the hall and presumably into your sister’s room. You barely hear the shower turn off and the door open over the popping and sizzling of the bacon and eggs in their pans. You assume he’d go to his room to get dressed, but you startle when he wraps his arms around your middle from behind.

“San, I’m cooking!” you scold, trying to pry his arms off of you. Your heart rate spikes, more from fear than bashfulness. You still haven’t processed what happened the night before, especially not emotionally.

“Sorry~” He giggles and lets you go, but only move to stand next to you. Your face is warm, and your eyes sting a bit, brow furrowing. Once all the food is plated and the heat of the stove is off, you turn to him, taking a step back.

“San, I think-“

“Let’s eat first, precious. I tired you out.” He takes both plates, walking around you to get to the dining table. You follow after him slowly and he pulls a chair out for you which you gratefully sit down on. Then you regret it, the hard wood pressing into your sore thighs and groin. You then notice he’s in a white tank top and blue track pants, towel around his neck. He always looks so good… Despite wanting to talk with him, you’re really freaking hungry, so you eat first, trying to ignore his warm and fond gaze. You know before you let him rail you into next week that you’d regret it. You do, you regret it and feel guilty; feel like you used him, feel like you betrayed Wooyoung… The final bite of food is harder for you to swallow along with the knot of emotions rising up. Your breath shudders, and he notices the tear fall from your eye and onto the empty plate.

“Hey, baby girl, what’s wrong?” He immediately get up, coming to your side and kneeling so he can look up at you. Your crying picks up then, your hands covering your mouth to try and muffle your sobs, scooting back and away from him.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You repeat between each sob that makes you gasp, desperate to let out the emotions that’ve finally boiled over.

“Oh, precious.” He sighs, trying to pull you into a hug, but you push your chair back further, standing up so fast the chair rocks, then falls back, clattering onto the floor. San stays where he is, feeling utterly helpless as you crumble to the floor. You ball your firsts on the wood floor, tears splatting on your skin and the floor. Despite wanting so bad to go to you, he stays in the same spot, not wanting to step over the line.

“God, I’m such a fucking bitch.” You whimper to yourself, and he can’t disagree more.

“No, no, precious girl, you’re not.” He finally gets up, kneeling back in front of you, but not trying to touch or hold you.

“Yes, I am! I… God, I used you. I took the chance, and I shouldn’t have. I…what about…” You heave for air, and he feels his heart breaking. Sighing, he shifts to sitting with his legs crossed instead, waiting patiently for you to calm down.

“What about Wooyoung?” Your voice is quiet, but not only did he know what you were going to say, he had a feeling that’s what your issue is. He feels a bit like he took advantage of you since you were obviously emotionally weak at the time. Why do you feel like that though? Does it hurt to see you so upset because of your feelings for his best friend? Of course. But he knew the situation going into it.

“I’m sorry, San. I can’t do this… You’re Wooyoung’s best friend-“

“Are you in love with Wooyoung, or is it just a crush?” His question throws you off.

“I…I don’t-“

“Why are you waiting for him when it’s possible he’ll never go to you? I’m right here.” He insists and you sniff, trying to stop your tears.

“But if there’s a chance-“

“Look, I didn’t want to go here, but… Wooyoung is in love with your sister, okay? He doesn’t just like her, or have a crush on her, he’s in love. If you’re not in love with him, you can drop it, right? …I’m right here.” His voice gets a bit unsteady, his own emotions becoming difficult to control.

“I think you should go home.” Your sobs have quieted, but that sentence pierces him harder than everything else. He wants to argue, try and convince you, but if you need space, he’ll give it to you.

~

By the time his bag is packed and he’s leaving Wooyoung’s room, you’ve gotten up off the floor, picked up the chair and are cleaning the dishes from breakfast.

“If you need anything…” He drifts off, hand on the doorknob. You trudge over to the door as he opens it, planning on locking the door with the chair after he’s gone. You won’t meet his eyes, and he prays desperately that you won’t have a nightmare that night without him, or anyone else, there.

“When the door closes, you slowly lock it with the chain, dropping your hand. He’s standing on the other side of the door, not wanting to leave yet. He closes his eyes tight when he hears you start to cry again. You lean against the door after it shuts, sliding to the floor in a heap, sobbing once again. You’re beginning to realize you like San…like him back. Maybe even more than Wooyoung, which terrifies you. Just over the short amount of time he’d been staying with you, he’s needled his way into your heart, more than just a friend. Little do you know, San is still on the other side of the door, trying not to cry himself listening to you sob. Your near wails quiet as new feelings bubble up. You thought you wanted him gone, so you can process, but thinking of him leaving shatters you.

“Please, please, please-“ He suddenly hears you speaking, stepping away from the door. He hears the chain rattle as you unlock the door, and open it. You aren’t expecting him to still be right there, but relief washes over you. You begin to cry again, more in relief, and he immediately goes back in. He drop his bag and returns your embrace, hugging him closer to you as you cry. San rests his cheek against the side of your head, petting your soft hair, a few tears of his own hitting your shoulder.

“(Y/N), oh sweet girl.” He sniffs, easily holding you when you go limp in his arms. You let him lift you princess style, refusing to loosen your arms’ hold around his neck and shoulders. Kicking the door closed, he carries you over to the couch, sitting down so you can sit on his lap. Your sobs cease, his hands rubbing comfortingly over your back.

“I’m sorry.” Your soft whimper hurts him; to hear you sound so defeated.

“(Y/N), precious, why are you so sorry?”

“I-I used you…”

“How?”

“I was upset and took advantage of your feelings for me.”

“I know.” You pull back abruptly, gaping at him.

“Sweetheart, I took advantage of you too. You were vulnerable-“

“San, San…” He starts to ramble nonsense, so you cup his jaw, bringing his attention back to you.

“I’m sorry I was being…” You lick your lips, thinking, “I let my feelings for Wooyoung cloud my real- You asked if I love Wooyoung? No, I don’t. It is just a crush…” Your thumb runs over his cheekbone, his wide, beautiful eyes shining up at you.

“I know that I’m not your first choice. I understand that. Honestly, I don’t care if I am your second choice, or even your third. All that matters, is that you choose me in the end.” You sniffle at his words, huffing a slightly sad laugh.

“I thought that there was only one choice, but…”

“But?”

“You’re right here.” You sigh, your own face softening; you’ve finally rationalized everything. Why your heart would thump so fast, why his actions would bring tears to your eyes… When you needed him to hold you to keep the nightmares away and why they came back when he wasn’t there…

“(Y/N)… I didn’t want to overwhelm you, but- I love you. I love you so much, I have for so long.” His own emotions are bubbling up, his own eyes tearing up along with yours.

“We’ve known each other, what, five years?” You nod, whimpering, trying to not cry harder.

“I started liking you three months in. It was when you went to adopt Cookie, and you were mobbed by all the puppies… You laid there, giggling, and I wanted to be one of those dogs. So bad.”

“F-for that long?” You’re so shocked you stop crying. San hums, rubbing your bag, hand slipping under your tank top.

“I’ve held back so much. Every time you have something on your lip, I want to kiss it off. If you’re cold, I want you to have my jacket. I want to buy every little charm or pretty thing that makes me think of you. To go to Namsan tower and put a lock on with you…” He stops when you slump forward, resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he hugs you closer. Your heart wanted to break earlier, but all his words fill the cracks in with gold.

“I’m sorry I was so blind, and selfish, and stupid. I’m sorry I can’t say ‘I love you’ back, because I really don’t know at this point. But I do know-“ You sit up to look at him, “I really, really like you. Will you forgive me for being a horrible person?”

“You’re not a horrible person, sweetheart. Not only are your emotions everywhere, you’re sleep deprived.” His hand goes to cup your cheek, brushing another stray tear away.

“Will you show me something?” You bow your head a bit, face reddening, hands fiddling with the bottom of his sweatshirt.

“Whatever you want, precious.”

“Can you show me again, how you feel about me?” Your voice is soft, a bit embarrassed, thinking of what you had asked him last night. Yes, you’re sore, but in the best possible way, and you want- need him again.

“Are you sure, pretty girl? I don’t think I can hold back like last night.” His voice is lower, but his gaze has sharpened. What the hell does he mean by that? He held back? What the fuck is he going to do that’s more intense than last night.

“You held back?” You question and he huffs, a sexy and smug smirk gracing his handsome face.

“Hm. I did. Can you handle me full force?” His eyebrow raises in question, and you swallow hard; he can hear it.

“I think I can…” Your voice is quiet, quivering, but you’re excite. Your cunt throbs, still sore but you’re getting hot quickly.

“I need a solid answer, precious.”

“Yes. I can.” His smirk glitches into a giddy smile for a second, but he gathers his composure.

“What should I do first…” He wonders aloud, many different possibilities running through his head.

“Can I make a suggestion?” You try to sound coy and smug like him, but it doesn’t really work.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“I…” You exhale carefully, normally not so shy, “I want to swallow your cock.” Your eyes flit up to look at him and his eyes roll back in his head as he groans.

“Precious, are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you-“

“I want you to fuck my throat, then cum down it~” You’re building your confidence back up from the response you’re getting from him. Your lips are at his ear, your tongue flicking the little earring he had in, then you kiss the side of his neck.

“On the floor then, baby girl.” He almost gasps at how fast you scramble off of his lap, eagerly and obediently sitting on your knees. You watch with wide eyes as he takes his sweatshirt off, then removes the tank he had on underneath. San bites his lip, trying to not giggle as you ogle him. He notices your hands twitch on your lap, ready to take his pants off yourself.

“Tell me, do you mind if I do all the work?” The intention is clear in his words and tone.

“Yes, please~” You shuffle in your crouch, but stay still. Your eyes zero in on the bulge in his pants, whimpering in need as he once again lets his pants fall. His cock is only about half hard; you wiggle your jaw knowing it will end up sore too. You want to be sore completely and all over when he’s done with you. His hand wraps around his cock, stroking it a few times, stepping forward so he’s withing reach, but you stay still.

“What a good girl you are~” He hums, and you eagerly open your mouth when the head of his dick touches your lips. You groan at the taste of him, swirling your tongue around the tip, sucking lightly.

“Fuck-“ San sighs, hands going to your hair, leading his cock deeper and deeper into your mouth. When he hits the back of your throat, you look up at him with wide, hazy eyes. As you hears you take a large inhale through your nose, he keeps going and your whole-body shudders as his cock goes down your throat. Your cunt clenches desperately against itself, not having anything inside to satisfy her.

“Of, fucking hell, sweetheart.” He groans, your nose pressing to his pelvis. He’s impressed you haven’t gagged yet, but you’re swallowing over and over trying to get used to the sensation. He stays there like that for a second, to the point where your head begins to swim a bit, the lack of air is intoxicating. When he pulls his hips back, just enough that you can desperately suck air in through your nose, he registers the depth that allows you to breathe.

“Count, precious. I’ll bottom out every five thrusts, ‘kay?” He instructs and you nod with a whine in acknowledgement. You try to hold your jaw in the same position, eagerly sucking on his cock as he thrusts, inhaling deep when he goes all the way. Each time he groans, grinding his pelvis against your face. You know he has stamina, and even though he doesn’t block your airway each time, your vision is spotting a bit, but not enough for you to stop him. The taste of his precum building makes your mouth water, a mix of your saliva and the salty fluid drips on the hardwood floor and your lap. The slick sound and the mess on your face and his cock brings him that much closer. San smirks at the prick of tears in the corner of your eyes, welling up from hit fat cock battering your throat.

“Mmh~ I’m going to cum down your throat, precious. Just like you want~” His airy chuckle turns to a groan, and he tosses his head back, struggling to keep his rhythm. His dick pulses hard on your tongue and you finally move yourself, hands going to his butt, holding him so he can’t pull back.

“Fuck-!” He grunts and cums, pumping thick globs of hot cum into your mouth and down your throat. You keep swallowing, only gagging a bit from the sticky substance, and he finally pulls out so you can catch your breath. More saliva and cum drips off your lips, your mouth open, panting. A drop lands on your chest, running down the skin and in between your breasts.

“Such a good girl, love~” San grins at your dazed expression, wide glossy eyes peering up at him.

“You safe?” You take a second to register his question, mind still foggy.

“Pill.” You manage to get out hoarsely, throat protesting for several reasons.

“Good, because I’m going to pump you full.” He smirks. You hold your hands up for him to help you stand, but he instead bends, wrapping his arms around your back and lifting you like a child under your arms. The ease to which he does so turns you on even more and you use your own core strength to lift your legs to wrap them around his middle.

He walks forward, pressing you into the wall by the door, cock fully hard again, rubbing over the damp spot of your shorts. Working with him to get your clothes off, you shorts are still dangling off of your ankle when his cock plunges into you. The sudden burn makes your cunt clench hard around him and he hisses, still a bit sensitive from his orgasm. You’re plenty wet, and he’d just fucked you only hours prior, but he’s so big. IT makes sense why he prepped you before, and it doesn’t help you’re still sore. But you couldn’t care less, the stinging pain just adds to your euphoria.

San groans when your nails dig into his back for leverage, scratching red welts into the skin.

“Ready?” He doesn’t wait for your response, thrusting up hard and shallow twice, then rolling his hips to slam into you full force. You throw your head back, hitting the wall a bit hard, but you’re too immersed in San and his animal pace. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, and you hold onto his shoulders for dear life. He has your legs over his elbows again, getting as close to you as he can, piercing your core with sharp movements, dragging you hopelessly fast to orgasm. It’s hard to catch your breath and moan, let alone speak words, tears built in your eyes. When they roll over your cheeks, he leans in to lick the salt away. He hates seeing you cry from sorrow or from being upset, but watching tears of pleasure flow over your red cheeks go straight to his cock. So cute…

“You’re so freaking pretty, precious. Love my cock so much you just wanna cry?” His chuckle’s slightly patronizing.

“Just go dumb, baby girl, think of nothing but my dick in your tight little cunt.”

“San!” You gasp, your next climax starting. He slows his pace so you can ride the waves, but doesn’t want to overstimulate you yet, so he forces his pelvis against your swollen clit. With each rolling crest of pleasure, your cunt leaks, making another mess on the floor.

San pulls away from the wall, walking to a different part of the apartment and you protest vehemently when he slowly pulls his cock from your still spasming pussy. He sets your feet down, spinning your around and you immediately place your hands on the window to stay upright- Wait, window?! You gape, looking out toward the park you can see from the window.

“S-San-?”

“No one can see you up here, at least I don’t think…” He chuckles and doesn’t allow any more argument and fucks back into you.

“Fuck~!” You nearly scream. Somehow, he’s eve deeper than before, and the front of his hips slap against your ass with each pound. Your hot breath is fogging the window, even the heat from your palms does so. San’s fingers press so hard into your flesh; you know there will be bruises there for sure, maybe darker than the faint yellow ones on your inner thighs from the night before. Struggling a bit with the height difference, you’re forced onto your tip-toes, legs quivering as each stroke of his thick cock saps more and more of your strength.

“Huh- I’m close precious. Gonna fill you up, fuck you full~” He licks his lips like a hungry dog. You squeak when his strong grip weaves through your hair, wrapping your braid in his fist, tugging lightly as he grinds his cock as deep as possible, filling your womb with even more of his seed. It’s so hot; he’s so deep and even the sensation of him tugging on your hair feels so good. Your body ekes out another smaller orgasm, helping him ride his out. He’s still hard, albeit a little bit less so. You don’t know if your poor little cunt and body can take much more, but your mind doesn’t care. If he wants to rail you till you pass out, you would thank him when you came to. When San pulls his cock out again, more globs of cum leak out of your abused hole, which is still twitching. He smirks at your quivering body, not having moved much, and coos as he easily picks you up like a sack of potatoes, then transitions to a princess carry. Your head flops as you pant for air, waiting patiently as he carries you back to your room, shutting the door to prevent your pup from following. However, when he puts you on the bed, he doesn’t join right away, instead heading for your standing mirror. He moves it to rest facing the side of your bed and you hazily register the act. Letting him maneuver you, he sits with you on his lap, back facing him, proud cock arching against your cunt.

“Look there, precious.” His hand lightly grips your jaw, forcing your head to turn and see your reflection. You’re an absolute mess, but you’re too focused on his equally messy cock and the fact that it still isn’t back inside you.

“San, hurry, please!” You whimper and he chuckles at your insistence, lifting you and slowly pushing you down onto him again. His legs are spread so your knees rest over them were spread wide too, leaving a perfect view of your small pussy taking his girthy dick.

“Fucking gorgeous, (Y/N)~” He praises, kissing the side of your head, jaw still in his grasp to make sure you watch.

“I want you to remember this, how it looks when I fuck you, and that no one will ever be able to after me.” His words make you whimper, the small noise rising in pitch and volume as he starts to thrust up into you, also moving you with the arm around your middle. Like you’re being hypnotized, you watch San’s cock pull out halfway before sinking back into you, so much cum and slick dripping from where he sits inside you.

“You’re so hot like this.” San grunts, the hand on your stomach sliding down to circle your clit. It stings, you’re overstimulated, and you feel his dick pulsing; he’s close too.

“One more for me precious, one more~” He coaches, then one, two, he cums again. There’s no more room inside you, the thick white jizz spills over, mixing with the squirting slick and making yet again another mess on the floor. You’re both panting, reveling in the afterglow, and sleep is trying to consume you once again. Later, you’re mad at yourself for not choosing San sooner. He never should’ve been the second choice.

Master-Master List

ATEEZ Master List

[cry4mina]

Limerence

Momo x fem!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Angst

Summary: What starts as an arrangement turns into something completely different but only for you.

TW: talks of sex, unrequited love, trauma responses, big sad, mentions of alcohol etc

A/N: To those who end up reading this, tell them. Life’s too short to keep things in. Just say what you feel, even if it doesn’t end up being the way you want it to be. Just tell them. It could save you a lot of heart ache.

Take in the red petals.

The softness of them, how brightly they reflect the warm light of the sun. Delicate in nature, suede silky perfectly crafted petals - fragile in how they crumple and fall to the floor at a moments notice.

How symbolic they are, the blooms of love that bring the smooth and gentle caress of care into whatever space they exist in. The stems full of sharp barbs that could draw blood at moments notice.

Momo was that to you.

Always so safe and tender. Something that you could only dreamed of. Something so sweet- you felt the flowers bloom from the cold, dark depths of your brain into a beautiful garden.

A hallowed out chest bursting with greenery, consuming the cracks in your ribs, solidifying the instability of your bruised and battered heart.

She watered them religiously, slowly altering your brain to forget those who came before her. The ones the left the turmoil and deep jagged scars that still split open from time to time.

What she didn’t know, is how quickly she could burn it all down.

Momo always made sure you were okay, caring for you in moments of panic, becoming a rock for you to lean on when you needed some form of support. Though she didn’t know all the ways she healed you from the malice you had endured, she kept watering the roses she planted within you.

A sun in the darkness, the light at the end of the tunnel that she never agreed to be…it just kind of…happened.

It’s been 9 months of this, of course you grew an attachment.

Attachment was never the plan.

All those before her considered you something to use and throw away. Whether it be for emotional stability, sex, money- it didn’t mater. Trying to shove you in a box when you spoke up about how you were feeling, placing you and your emotions in a box they didn’t belong in.

They took what they could and left after being committed to misunderstanding you. Manipulating you into a fear laced shell of a human before leaving you to figure things out on your own.

It was supposed to be a mutual exchange of friendship and sex with Momo, nothing else.

It developed into something that felt like a relationship with sex in between and being only just the start of something you thought could flourish.

Existing like this together - constantly texting while you were both busy, making time for each other in every way you could.

Watching movies on the couch, curled up with each other - allegedly platonically, you found yourself giggling and comparing hand sizes, talking about when how you had a bad day you’d come home and make dinner with each other.

Staying up late and talking even with time zone differences while she was on tour… you thought that no matter how busy she was and no matter where she traveled, no mater they time spent apart, you could make it work.

Even if it wasn’t a relationship, to you it felt like it was. All the comforting, the constant communication and the sex.

Passionate, aggressive, making each other jealous just because you knew how much you both wanted each other. All to cause that ache and burn in either’s chest, sparking the need to remind the other who was the one that was supposed to be at the forefront of the others mind.

A little game of cat and mouse, a game of who could break first.

It was always you.

The teasing, the edging…everything. You had never had such a dynamic before, feeling so free to express yourself in ways you couldn’t imagine.

Bodies pressed together in the most intimate way possible. The trust being emphasized throughout the viciously delicious acts truly solidified the emotions held in your heart.

Possessive in nature, every single time you ended up in the sheets together you felt like hers. Willing to do whatever she needed or wanted, you were wrapped around her finger- in more ways than one.

The flashbacks that exist in your memory - the ones that constantly repeat over and over again. The kind that immediately makes you crave her, but the comfort and trust continued to ease you even in the most intense of situations of this genre and others a like.

It made communicating most things easy. Knowing you could say what you felt and not be judged, graciously navigating through many conversations that could have been seen as difficult for most…but not for you and Momo.

There were things you left unsaid…but most things you weren’t afraid to express.

It went on for a long time, allowing you both to explore things you never thought you would be able to.

It was easy to trust her with how gentle she was, the kind caring human you had grown to truly care for…you never questioned if she would leave you or not, unlike some of the others you had this type of connection with.

Until she got distant.

Practically vanishing for 2 weeks, she replied to your texts maybe once a day - you knew she was traveling and assumed she was just busy with her schedule - trying not to overthink things and create scenarios in your mind, you wanted to believe that the open communication you had always had would be reciprocated like it usually was.

Momo never gave you a reason to think that she would leave without saying anything.

Until the day came that you didn’t hear from her at all.

Your first day without contact since you’d met.

It sparked worry a in you that you didn’t know how to vocalize.

The lack of texting was already unlike her…but nothing?

That was unheard of.

Not wanting to seem clingy, you just distracted yourself- trying to give her the space she was silently asking for and assuming you’d hear from her again soon…after you spiraled about it like you always did.

The same pattern.

Over and over and over again.

Did you say something rude? Did you offend her in some way? Did you say something that might have hurt her feelings?

Nothing seemed to make the puzzle pieces fit. She told you she’d check in, send pictures, tell you about what she was up to, what museums she went to. She would always sneak pictures of the art she thought you’d like to you…none of that was happening.

You hoped to hear from her soon.

And you did… a few texts and then silence.

A short phone call here and there and back to silence.

But now she was home…and usually after traveling or not talking a lot, she would be excited to fill you in on her adventures or ask you about your work day, ask to come over and see you…or ask for something a little more intimate.

Overthinking things for weeks, you never let her know how much it bothered you that things were off.

Just living in a state of anxiety, wondering what could have happened between you to create what felt like a void.

After a few more weeks of distant behavior- never went back to what normal was for the two of you.

“Hey, can we talk?” Crackling through the speaker of your phone while you were folding laundry.

“Yeah, sure. Is everything okay?” Folding another shirt and sitting down on your bed with your phone in your hand, toying with your hair anxiously as she takes a deep breath.

“I think that we should stop the friends with benefits thing.” The hesitation in her voice only makes the words harder to comprehend.

“Oh…Uhm…okay.” Breath hitching as your tears well up in your eyes.

“Is everything okay?” Confusion in Momo’s voice, you could practically see the look on your face even though she wasn’t in front of you.

“Can I ask why?” A silent deep breath, grasping at the shards of what just broke you- trying to hold your pieces together.

“I just don’t think this is working for me anymore.” A beat of silence, you hear her take a breath.

She knew you’d need to hear that.

“You’re wonderful…”

Emotional whiplash taking you on the ride of a life time. The rush of adrenaline and grief was confusing and panic inducing.

What do you mean it’s over? All the intimacy, all the deep heavy talks, all the bonding and movie dates…gone in an instant.

“I just want to be friends. Is that okay?”

“Yeah…yeah, of course that’s okay…” timidly through the tears dripping down your face, trailing down before dropping off your chin and hitting your thigh rhythmically as your eyes start to lose focus.

Tears or dissociation?

Good question.

“Okay, great! I don’t want to lose you as a friend…I do hope that’s okay.” Seemingly happy at your reaction to her calling things off.

“Okay…” What more could you say?

“Are you okay…?” Curiosity peaking in her voice, already knowing that something was up.

“Uhm…I just didn’t think that this is what would be happening right now…Why did it take you so long to tell me that we were done with this? It’s been a month and I’ve barely heard from you…” whisper through the clenching of your throat - and attempt to limit the emotions you were about to share.

This is too much. You’re always too much. Just let her go, y/n.

“What do you mean?” Momo now has a sharpness in her tone, a lack of understanding for what she was to you…or maybe she knew and didn’t care.

“We are very close…It’s fine that you want to end this…but I wish you would’ve told me…I just…felt safe with you…I thought maybe we could try to be togeth-“

“We talked about this in the beginning though…We were supposed to be strictly just sex and friendship.” Frustration and sorrow linger in her voice at what you were saying back to her.

“Yeah, I know…” Jaw tightening, still trying to hold back the sobs that were trying to burst past the grip of your teeth.

“Wait…we are just friends who help each other out, right?” Snapping at you this time, like she just put 2 and 2 together.

“Right? Y/n?”

Shit. You’ve set her up to be in this position unknowingly.

A huge knot slips down your throat and weighs your stomach down in a wave of pure nausea. Anxiety prickling through, every cell you have freezes over in the cold hell of a situation you not only find yourself in, but what you’ve place her in.

Discomfort.

Mind racing at what to say, the loudest whisper is what you chose to listen to.

“…yeah. I mean it started that way…but I might’ve kind of liked you like that…a little bit” dancing around the truth.

Liar, liar, liar.

You love her.

Would Momo leave if she knew?

“I…didn’t realize…” the surprise in her tone really caught you off guard, you always thought that a part of her felt the same way.

Even if it was just a small part.

Slipping into a dissociative state, you have a hard time focusing on anything but Momo’s voice snaps you back whenever she speaks.

“…how long have you felt this way?” Frustration brimming in Momo’s throat, you already know what’s going to happen next.

You have a choice to make.

Tell her the truth.

Or.

Lie.

“Not very long…” Maybe you can preserve her place in your life, even if she shows up differently.

A tightness in your chest fighting to keep the garden she grew alive.

It was dwindling with every second, with every lie you told…

The sun and warmth that she used to radiate, now turned to ice. Feeling the glacial wall stockpile the snow against itself - solidifying the fortress around her in razor sharp shards of complete and total emotional shut down.

“…I wanted to tell you…I just didn’t know how. I was scared I’d lose you…I don’t want to lose you., please Momo…” Hearing yourself say that was something that caused your brain to click on what was actually happening…

No…Please not like this…

“I…think I need space.” It wasn’t more than a whisper, but it splattered through you like shrapnel - eviscerating every cell that ever touched her, every moment you ever had with her.

The rose bud detaching from the stem and falling to the floor, you’re gripping the stem too hard to realize all the blood dripping from your hand.

A pain of your own doing.

The sun imploding and burning every planet in its wake in a ball of fury- drip drip dripping with absolute devastation and what felt like betrayal.

Hypocritical actions living in your chest. You are upset she didn’t tell you but you didn’t say anything to her.

The garden she unknowingly tended to in your chest bursting into flames, scorching all the plant matter into ash and dust that no amount of rain could ever wash away or repair.

“I understand…” composure dropping, unsure of if she knows that the “a little” was actually “love”.

“I’ll…get back to you. I just need some time to think. I’m sorry.”

The beeping of the phone hanging up was like a fire alarm, echoing through every chamber of your heart and bouncing off your skull. Tears descending like waterfalls, cascading down to try and rewater the garden - panicking and trying to bring life to the roots but it was too late.

Nothing but ash lay in your wake.

Ears ringing with “I just need space” as you sit in your room. The only actually sound was your heart beating in your ears and the trembling that was reverberating through your body and catching your breath on its way out.

—

A week went by with no contact.

That didn’t stop you from checking your messages every 15 minutes.

Turning your notifications off so maybe you could forget about it for a moment, but you found yourself frantically checking over and over again with nothing from her.

Her silence was so loud.

The lack of her in any way was so noticeable.

You really wanted to just call her and talk it through but you were so worried about what she might say considering you hadn’t exactly been truthful.

So scared she would just…leave. All the trauma she had previously covered with roses and warm sunlight now resurrecting like black magic. Demons crawling from the darkest corners of your mind to repeat their chants in tongues that brought a familiar rhythm and negative nostalgia back with them.

Fighting the cob webs as they shriek “YOU’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH!” So loudly that you swear others could hear them cry.

“She never loved you.”

“How could she love someone so broken like you?”

“She just used you…that’s all it ever was.”

Trying to drown them out was impossible for you. All of the thoughts reverberating in her voice - snapping open the once healed cracks with an all too familiar smack to the chest. Open wounds dripping in the rotting sludge that was once pure love, seeping down and causing a numbness you wished would have been something else.

Everyone around you noticed the shift.

Everyone.

All of them asking if you’re alright, you just grin and lie again. No one needed to know what happened. You didn’t want their opinion or for their views to change of Momo.

There was some anger on your end, frustration at the lack of communication about this situation. It was something that had never been an issue before so why would this suddenly be something that couldn’t be worked through?

Both having talked each other down from panic attacks, out of spirals, through trauma in the moment…why would this suddenly be different? What made her feel like she couldn’t…say something?

Why did you feel like you couldn’t say something?

It’s…complicated.

So many different facets of care. Friendship, situationship, and relationship all interweaving and creating a heavy quilt that held the warmth in…you thought that all the loose ends were tied until she pulled the string and all the piece unraveled.

After not hearing from her for the longest you had ever heard from her, you feel like you can’t hold onto it anymore. The guilt of not telling her the truth out weighed the fear of her leaving…it’s as if she already left anyway…might as well get it off your chest.

You: I lied to you. I’m sorry. It was more than just a little. It was the entire time. That’s why it hurt me so much that you wanted to call it off because I really really care about you.

You: I don’t want to lose you…I’m sorry I didn't tell you. I really am.

Noting but silence followed for the rest of the day.

—

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you could feel the swelling of the tears that shed the night before. Exhausted from the fear, you try to go back to sleep but the spiraling thoughts of her keep you awake.

God, you miss her voice.

After laying there for a few minutes, you come to accept that you aren’t going to fall back asleep. Picking up your phone to mindlessly scroll, you see a message notification and open it immediately.

It’s her.

Momo.

Momo: I’m sorry…I just needed some time to think and really organize my thoughts.

You: Do you want to talk about it?

Momo: Maybe another time? How have you been doing? I think about you every day…

And from this, a new normal was born.

Just friends.

Avoiding communication about the topic of what used to happen, not acknowledging what you said to her. Never really truly acknowledging what happened and what caused the space or the deviation from what once was.

No answers, no closure, just the love that lingered through you for her. The deep and unacknowledged love that lay in your chest.

You would’ve done anything for her and it was painful that she was avoiding the subject…you understood though.

Maybe it was hard for her to talk about. Maybe she knew her schedule was too much for what you needed. Maybe she just didn’t care.

Maybe she just didn’t care…

The voices from before scream again, yelling as they raise from the ashes to remind you that you are nothing.

You’ve got nothing to offer her.

Nothing to contribute to her already successful happy life.

Sighing as you pour yourself a drink, unhealthy coping mechanisms riddle your life again as you try and forget.

But you can’t.

There is no forget for her.

There could never be.

—

Weeks later, finding comfort in the new normal- you just assumed she was busy as always. Not wanting to bring anything up and rehash the past, you tried the one thing you knew might spark something within her.

On the phone, as normal, you mentioned that you had slept with a few people since her- just to see if she’d get jealous.

Though it was true, you did hate yourself for it. Just wanted to feel something…wanting to feel wanted, you took the opportunities presented to you.

You did enjoy some of the interactions, most of them reminded you of her. Always crying once you got back to your car afterwards.

The spiral of wishing it was her touching you, wishing it was her calling you baby.

However, this plan back fired.

“Oh? You’ve been on an adventure haven’t you? Have you been enjoying yourself?” The peaked interest in her voice caught your attention, hoping it would lead to her coming over again.

“Eh, yes and no.”

“The girl I’ve been seeing…” the rest of the sentence blurs into a white noise as you forget to breathe.

The world froze.

Time stopped.

What did she say?

“Oh…uhm…I’m happy for you.”

Lightening shot through you, burning every seed sprouted that you tried to replant. Singed every single sighting of life inside you, crackling down your nervous system like a fault line under pressure- shifting the plates of your armor and revealing the truth.

Anguish.

“I’m actually really excited about it. I’ve liked her for a really long time.”

Every sentence leaving her lips was a new bullet through your chest, penetrating every part of you that she had touched - inside and out.

Reopening the wounds already marked with her teeth. Physical, excruciating, diabolical pain coursed through your entire body.

Using the counter to stabilize yourself, you try and catch your breath silently as Momo waits for a response from you.

“Are you still there?” You can hear her tug her phone away from her ear to check and see if the call is still going.

“Yes, I’m here.” A deep breath.

You have to tell her.

“Momo, I think I need to take a step back from this.” Voice shaking as you finally spill the truth from your shattered heart.

This was an attempt at control, an attempt to make it your choice for space.

“What? Why?”

How could she not know?

“I thought it was okay for me to talk about her because you just talked about how you were sleeping with other people?”

While she holds a valid point, this was not the same. The people you let touch you, you had no feelings for. There was an exception to this but Momo had her hooks so deep in you and you knew you’d only hurt the other girl…you didn’t want to do that.

She deserved better than that.

“Yeah…I uhm…didn’t like them though…I’m not dating them…” another deep breath, you’re shaking as you tell her.

“They aren’t you…”

“Aren’t me?” Hearing her voice crack as she whispered that back to you was heart breaking in itself.

“I have to go. I’m happy for you. I really am. I just need to figure this out.” Trying to rush her off the phone so you could take a second to actually process what’s going on.

Another girl.

Another fucking girl.

“What do you mean by it’s not me, y/n?”

A loud sigh leaves your body.

I guess it’s time to say the truth.

The whole truth.

“Exactly what it sounds like. I don’t want them…I want you.” The truth revealed after months, a weight is lifted off your shoulder but descends towards your stomach, circling around like sharks in the ocean.

“You told me…you told me it was only a little…How long has this actually been going on then?” Anger laces her words as she spits them.

“…the whole time…” softly between tears, sniffling your way through this as your chest tightens further.

“The whole time?! Y/n!” Yelling now, you could picture her frustrated body language, knowing she was pacing and trying to figure out what to say.

“We talked about this…” Stern in tone mixed with a disppointed sigh, you know her arms are folded.

“I know…I’m sorry I lied…I was scared you’d leave.” Lips quivering as you finally let yourself be vulnerable enough to share the truth.

“Well, in the theme of telling the truth…I need to tell you something.”

Momo has fear in her voice, you can feel it.

“Remember when I went on that trip and we didn’t talk for a few days while I was there? The girl I went with…Nayeon…that’s who I’m dating.”

Silence.

What were you supposed to say? How were you supposed to go about this?

“…that’s why you disappeared…that’s why you said you didn’t want to do this anymore…oh…” skin dripping off your bones when the realization hits.

Molten misery oozing from every cell of your body, a burning so destructive that even with the jumbled thoughts, you wouldn’t be able to create anything but an emotional eruption of distress and emergency.

“We would’ve never continued this if I knew you liked me that way.”

“I’m sorry…” the safest thing to say.

The only thing to say.

“*I have to go. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you soon.”* Momo’s voice cracks as the sentence ends and the phone beeps, signaling she’s gone.

Fight, flight, or freeze.

Pick one.

Why pick one, when you can have all of them?

Brain already arguing with itself, you’re frozen in place with the phone in your hand, and your body is telling you to run…but where do you go when your safe person doesn’t feel safe?

It’s your fault she doesn’t feel safe.

Momo even said that this would’ve stopped if you had told her. The pain you were feeling was because of information she did not have.

The signs were there, so you thought.

Is there someone to blame for this?

Rationally, yes.

It’s you.

She was just living her life. Both of you are allowed to make mistakes, sure. You’re only human.

You set boundaries before. Set rules for this.

Momo couldn’t have picked up on those signs if she didn’t know to look for them.

The clues left unnoticed, how could she know to look for them if you never told her they were there?

The swelling of your heart, the yearning and need for her was developed through the tender care she gave to you.

Communication wasn’t something you gave her when it came to how you were feeling.

Finding out there was someone else destroyed you…but how could she have known?

A selfish choice to keep your emotions held hostage within you, just so she would stay a little bit longer…hoping she would stay forever.

Forever never came.

At least for you, forever never showed up how you expected.

Rose petals are soft, fragile, delicate. Kind of like love. They can grow in many colors, show up in places you’d least expect it.

One wrong move and they all die.

The thorns are supposed to protect the delicate bud, keep it safe so its life force can continue to allow it to grow, and flourish.

Do you think the flower knows about its thorns?

Sitting and pondering as you drink your tequila on the couch, staring at your phone and waiting for her name to light the screen up.

No garden within you to reference anymore, no roses to pick, nothing blooming. An unattended field of memories and heart ache, waiting for you to shower them.

There is no energy to do so.

The darkness around you all consuming when you realize that maybe if you weren’t so scared of yourself, you could’ve had everything you wanted.

Or maybe, you wouldn’t have put her in the position to be painted as the bad guy.

So who really is the villain?

You’d probably argue that it’s yourself.

And this would probably be the only time she would have ever agreed.

[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 <;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. 

[enluv]

PAIRING! – choi soobin x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! - What ever happened to them? Suddenly every single photo, thought, and feeling was erased from their lives as if poof, it never existed and once it was gone it left us all wondering, and searching for something more…

or in which fans of the popular singer Y/N begin to wonder what ever happened to the boy she wrote all those loves songs about….

starting: july 11th, 2023 / ending: august 11th, 2023

that’s the thing official playlist -> HERE !!

PSA: now that this is over, i ask that you do not spam like it as you read the full story, if you do so I will have to block you.

warning(s): profanity, dark humor (die, kms, etc. jokes) angst, not unrequited love but relationships where people want different things, fanwars, more to be added (?)

genre: social media au, e2l, non!idol but famous singers + model/youtuber au, angst, fluff, more to be added!

cast: y/n will use the fc of beabadoobee, all of txt, p1h keeho + possible other p1h members, itzy’s yeji , and tbz sunwoo !!

taglist: @jmin-s @stealanity @iijwon @invuwrld @igotkpoops @telesvng @whippedforbeomgyu @l0ve-joy @envirae @neozon3nha @meiiiwa @kangtaehyunfan029 @chaerybae @ch2won @cinnikoi @wccycc @run2seob @stariszn @haew0nz @neoculturewhat @hyuk4ngel @ddeonubaby @oulspvs @sullystraw @liliyaaaaas-library @rainbowszi @fanfangying1304 @tocupid

taglist is CLOSED!

VENUS DELUXE TRACKLIST:

– album teaser track!

000: coming to you live / twerkin on the runway (intros)

001: LOWKEY

002: TEASERS & TOURS

003: SUGARPLUM ELEGY

004: YOU DATED MY GF? (read: soobin’s backstory)

005: SILLY LITTLE ME

006: KRILL YOURSELF

007: HIM & HIS STUPID FUCKING RAT (sorry odi)

008: THE CONCERT

009: SOOBY/N Q & A!

010: I <3 MY GIRLFRIEND! — end!

end of album – restart to track 001?

© all rights reserved to enluv, do not steal, repost or translate.

[d1s1ntegrated]

Your headcanons and fics are so real and true to me… Would it be possible to make a fic/ list of headcanons in a college/ school AU where shigaraki is weirdly obsessed with y/n ? please and thank you🙏

i had this as a draft and it got deleted </3 but YASSSSSS i love creepy shig! also sorry in advance...

to be seen (slight nsfw)

stalker!shiggy x friendly and slightly naive!reader oneshot

quirkless college au !

summary: shigaraki is obsessed with you. you like being his friend. mistakes happen.

cw: painnnnn, unrequited love, pining, stalker activities, masturbation mentioned, pervert mindset, language, slight mention of drunk sex, panty sniffing? is that what i call it????

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

shigaraki was your classmate in creative writing. he was a little reclusive, but you didn't mind. you just sat next to the guy (when he decided to show up to class anyways). what you knew about him was minimal, but oh, the things he knew about you. he had memorized your class schedule, he knew when your period started and ended. he knew when you were going out, and when you'd come back. he knew you lost your pens frequently, so he bought a pack for when you inevitably asked to borrow one from him. and licked them all, in hopes you'd chew on the ends like you usually do.

he never meant to get this bad, actually.

see, it all started when you were assigned a workshopping assignment for a story, so he invited you to his dorm to work on it. he wasn't prepared, you showed up ten minutes after you texted him. he didn't even have time to shower, he was still sitting in cum-stained sweats and his favorite (albeit a bit gross) hoodie. but you cared nonetheless, you just wanted to finish the work. so you sat in his bed in your little shorts as he perched at his desk and ogled.

after you left, he shoved his face in the small imprint on his mattress and came buckets to the mere idea of your ass on his sheets. the obsession grew from there. his lack of attendance turned perfect, punctual even. he said hi every fucking day, even when you weren't really in the mood to talk. you didn't mind the company, hell, he was nice enough and surprisingly smart for someone so...like him. he texted you, too. reminders about due dates, notes, etc. you usually just replied with a "thanks!" or "okay ty", but it was more than enough for him.

he asked to come to your dorm to work one day-he lied and said his ac was broken. you bit the offer anyways and he showed up right on time, papers in hand like a proud child showing off their artwork. this time, you were in basic sweatpants and a tank top. he didn't mind- you were on your period this week, he knew that. the idea actually made his toes curl in his converse. when you went to grab a snack, he jumped for the dirty laundry basket and snagged the first pair of panties he could find, shoving them hastily into his hoodie pocket. he went back to his dorm that night and jerked off with the soft cotton in his mouth, sucking up every ounce of you he could.

he couldn't get enough of you. you were a drug to him, a lethal one at that. he couldn't eat or sleep without the idea of you easing him. he couldn't cum to anything other than your social media profile and the little smiley faces you texted him.

when you skipped class because of a cold, he showed up at your door with hot soup that he spit in and the notes from that day's lecture.

on your birthday, he bought you a pretty pink cupcake and a new pair of headphones because yours mysteriously went missing.

when you left for home on winter break, he cried every night while jerking off because he missed you so badly. you were his only friend, his lover, his prized possession.

the next semester, he made sure his schedule was an exact replica of yours. even though half of the classes he didn't even need, or have interest in. but fuck, any reason to see you was good enough for him. he didn't want to take it too far, but he ended up there anyways. he started to bring you little gifts almost every day. a new notebook, a coffee, he even bought you a new water bottle because he was there when yours fell on the tiled floor in the great hall and dented to shit. even when you said it was okay and still functional, a new (and better) one was on your desk the next day, already full with ice water and a little purple bow on the top of it.

you didn't need to know that he was cumming on the things he brought, or shoving them into his mouth and "cleaning them off" lazily because he needed you to have him so fucking badly.

it got to the point where he was begging you to hang out every day after class, and you stupidly agreeing every night because you had nothing better to do. because you felt bad for him. even with his...faults, you found a comfort in him. he was just a really good friend, which is hard to come by in college.

so you played video games with him and went out for coffee and lunch dates because that's what friends do. you fell asleep in his bed while studying a few times and he never minded, because that's what friends do. you went home in his clothes one night because he accidentally spilt a drink on you and offered to wash your clothes with his laundry, because that's. what. friends. do.

nevermind the pictures he had of you asleep in his bed. or your ass when you bent over in building 130 to pick up your phone. or your tits pressed against the table from coffee date number 2. all in a little folder tucked away in a calculator app.

nevermind all the pairs of your socks and underwear, hair ties and used napkins, empty bottles, the sample size of your perfume, all shoved away in his dresser drawer.

nevermind the returned clothes you wore that you never did get to washing because when you went, all the machines were in use and he needed them back. that he also never washed.

shigaraki was a weird kid. but you were friends, in your mind. you were lovers eternal in his.

so when you dragged him to a frat party and got drunk with him, stumbling back into his dorm at 3am, it wasn't a big deal.

it wasn't a big deal when he kissed you, hard. because you were friends, lovers, dramatically doomed from the start because of two very different life paths. the kind of love story that ends with cardboard boxes and good lucks. it wasn't a big deal to you when you took his virginity, sloppy and intoxicated, because you promised yourself you wouldn't fall for a guy you met in class.

but it was a big deal, and it wasn't a mistake, not to him. it wasn't a mistake when he came inside of you, crying, repeating the worst three words known to those who just wanted to be friends. it was a big deal and it was a mistake to tell him you loved him too, not because it was a lie, but because you knew full and goddamned well what you had done to such a broken man like him.

he never deserved your kindness. he never deserved the taste of you. but you let him have it, and he would never let that go.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

okay ouchie im sorry this was a beautiful prompt and i fear i brought the vibes sooooo down with this one. but i cant always write smut lads, sorryyyyyy!

i hope you enjoyed. also i hope i made this as stalker-creepy vibes as possible

i didnt wanna go full sicko mode w his stalker tendencies in this one bc in my mind, he just wants to be loved ;-;

thank you for the request and lmk if this one hits or not! i can try again if it doesnt spark joy lol

[lilypadthaii]

idiot | suna rintarō

suna rintaro x reader :3 wc: 2.7k

tropes: unrequited love, childhood friends to lovers, kinda oblivious reader a/n: sunas probably ooc, i cant write nonchalant men srry. also NOT proofread so sorry if there r mistakes :p

you first met suna when you were both just 7 years old. you were introduced to him by the twins, who happened to be your neighbors at the time. 

the interaction didn’t feel like it was anything out of the ordinary, but looking back on it, maybe it was the start of it all. 

“hi! my name’s y/n l/n! i’ve heard a lot about you from tsumu and samu! let’s be good friends from now on, ‘kay?” 

what could he possibly do but accept? there was no way he could reject you, not with the toothy grin you flashed at him and the tight hug you enveloped him in right after. 

that was how he first got pulled into your orbit. 

from that point on, you, him, and the twins were practically inseparable. you went on adventures together everyday, catching bugs, riding your bikes, playing pranks on your parents, etc. 

while most of the time, it seemed as though he was just being dragged along, he couldn’t deny that he had fun. 

even though the twins were as annoying as ever, he didn’t actually mind you. he didn’t mind getting sneak attacked by your snowballs when it snowed in the winter, and he didn’t mind listening to you sing loudly and out of tune into the fan during the summer. 

to say the least, he found you bearable. 

he began noticing a change when he was 13, at the start of a new school year. the four of you hung out frequently, almost everyday during school hours and afterschool. yet, something had changed about the dynamic of this friend group that he couldn’t quite place.

maybe it was the way your gaze would linger on atsumu’s for longer than usual. maybe it was the way atsumu would trip over his words when you showed up. maybe it was the way it seemed like you and atsumu were slowly drifting away from him and osamu into you two’s own little world. maybe, just maybe, it was the way what used to be plans that were shared by the four of you became one on one hangouts between you and atsumu.

perhaps that’s why it didn’t shock him when you two announced that you were dating just a few weeks later. 

he couldn’t blame you for falling for him. after all, atsumu was charming, funny, talented, and treated you well. why wouldn’t you?

unfortunately, this fact didn’t stop the uneasy feeling that settled in his chest for weeks after. 

he passed it off as a side effect of the summer heat. 

when you were 15, you were arguing with atsumu almost everyday. most of the time it was just stupid stuff, like him being late to a date or leaving you on read. when he got more invested in volleyball, however, he began spending less and less time with you.

the arguments only got worse and worse. at some point, suna was sure you two were going to break up, but you never did.

one summer night, you two were eating ice cream at local convenience store. it was like any other conversation of you two’s at the time: you complaining about atsumu and him quietly listening. 

“what should i do, rin? he’s so frustrating… it doesn’t even seem like he’s wants to be with me anymore! all he ever talks about volleyball… i mean, does he even like ME anymore? maybe he’s just too busy for a relationship.”

he stared at the moon as he listened to you ramble. it was strangely beautiful tonight. he wanted to take out his phone and snap a picture, but he knew you’d get upset. 

“why don’t you just break up with him?”

he had interrupted you abruptly, so he expected you to reprimand him. instead, you went completely silent.

he turned to look at you, expecting an answer, but was surprised by what he saw. 

you were covering your face with your hands, but there was no way he could mistake the tears welling up in your eyes for anything else.

“i know, i mean, i’ve considered it so many times. i’m an idiot, i know, but i,” you blubbered, hiccupping as you spoke, “i don’t want to leave him.”

it was silent for a few seconds, and when you looked up at him, he was watching you carefully. 

“why?”

you looked down again and swallowed before replying. “because i love him, suna. i love him so much, i can’t imagine being without him. i know it might just be because i’m young and stupid, but i don’t want to give up on us.”

you were slightly startled by the comforting touch of his head on your head, patting you as if you were a pet. 

“things will work out. atsumu loves you too, he’s just an idiot. don’t doubt yourself, dumbass.”

you choked out a laugh as you wiped your tears. 

“thanks, rin. i’m so glad you’re my best friend.”

you gave him your signature toothy grin, and his heart did the thing, just as it always did when you smiled at him, and just as he always would, he’d brush it off as him being sick. man, he really needed to get this heart problem checked out.

even as you continued your rant about your incompetent boyfriend, suna wondered how, even with your puffy eyes and red nose, you managed to look like that. how the moonlight perfectly traced your features, as if gently kissing every aspect of your face.  

perhaps he’d known it for a while, but was in denial, that he felt something for you that a best friend shouldn’t. but what could he do? 

you were in love with atsumu, and this was an absolute. a fact of life, just like how humans needed air to live and the sky was blue. 

when you were 17, your relationship had gotten past the arguing stage and was relatively stable. you went every game of inarizaki’s that you could, cheering for them from the sidelines.

there was one particular game that stuck with suna. it was a victory in a difficult game against karasuno. 

after the game, he saw you running up to him, and spread his arms, ready to receive your hug. 

but it wasn’t him you were running to. it was atsumu. it wasn’t his hug to receive. it was atsumu’s. you ran past him, jumping into atsumu’s arms, and he spun you around as you congratulated him with kisses. 

he’d remember that moment forever, because it’d serve as a reminder that it would never be him, and that he shouldn’t ever get his hopes up.

when he was 18, he received a text from you that would end your 11 year friendship. you two had been distant for a while, so it shouldn’t have been too surprising. 

“hey, suna. we’ve been friends for so long, and it breaks my heart to do this to us, but i don’t think we should be friends anymore. atsumu doesn’t want me being too close to any guys, which is understandable, so i think it’s only right of me to do this. i’m sorry, and i wish you the best. i hope you’ll remember me as your best best friend :)”

he considered calling you, but stopped himself. what did he want from you? an explanation? you’d already given him one. there wasn’t anything he could do. 

he buried himself in volleyball to force himself to forget you, what you two had, or rather, what he had for you. it worked, for a while, until he received a sudden call from an unknown number on his 22nd birthday. 

he was out with his team, getting drinks at a bar. he probably would’ve declined, if not for the gut feeling that rose in his stomach when he saw the number. so he stepped out and answered.

“hello? ri- oops, suna, is that you?”

he swore he felt his heart rate accelerate as soon as he heard your voice through the speaker. 

“yeah, it’s me. is this y/n?” you’d gotten a new number, he noted. 

“yes, i know, this is sudden and weird, and i don’t want to intrude, but i know it’s your birthday, so i just wanted to say happy birthday. i hope you’re doing well. i know it’s not my place to say this, so i’m sorry-“

you were rambling, just as you always did when you were stressed or nervous. it made him a little happy, knowing you hadn’t changed.

“it’s okay,” he interrupted, “thank you for that. i’m doing well. how are you?”

he’d spend the next hour on the phone with you, catching up on your lives, until one of his teammates popped his head out of the restaurant and asked if he was coming back in.

“i’m definitely ruining your birthday night huh? i’m so sorry, i’ll let you get back to that. but, if it’s okay, would you like to meet up sometime? i’ll text you, if it’s okay?”

“yeah, sure.”

“happy birthday, rin!” was all he heard before you hung up. the nickname gave him a rush of nostalgia, one that warmed his insides.

he went back inside the bar with a stupid grin on his face that he couldn’t wipe off, one that would get him teased by his teammates for the rest of the night.

a week later, he finds himself in a cozy cafe near his house that he never knew existed, pretending to browse the weather app on his phone as he waits. 

he’s so nervous he doesn’t even notice you until you sit down directly in front of him, setting down your bag with dozens of clinking keychains attached. 

you laugh as you see him visibly startle. “it’s just me, suna. sorry i’m a little late. how long’ve you been waiting for?”

“just a few minutes, don’t worry.”

he pauses to take in your appearance. you’re as beautiful as ever. you seem more mature now (how stupid, you’re both adults now after all), but he can still see glimpses of your much younger self in the smile you give him. 

he snaps himself out of his trance when you speak up, “i know all i’ve been doing since we started talking again is apologizing, but i’m genuinely sorry, suna. i shouldn’t have done that to you. i threw away our friendship like it was nothing. i told myself it was for the better, that atsumu needed me, and i wanted to be the best girlfriend for him. but i’ve since realized how naive i was.” you pause, thinking back to your nearly ten year relationship. he sees something in your eyes he didn’t when you two were together, and suna can’t stop himself from asking. 

“are you two… still together?” 

you can almost laugh at how hesitant he sounds, like he’s trying not to step on a landmine. 

“no, we’re not. we broke up a year ago, and i’ve realized it was for the better.” when you see his questioning gaze, you continue, “i feel like most of our relationship, i was basically living for him. i centered my life around him. i lost friends and hobbies all for a guy who i know now cares more about volleyball than he could about anybody. i’m the biggest idiot in the world.” 

you feel the tears coming back to you, but you force them down. you’re here to apologize, not to make an even bigger fool of yourself.

“you’re not an idiot, y/n. you found something great, and you just wanted to treasure it. it’s his fault he couldn’t appreciate that.”

as he says this, he gives you an adoring smile, as if saying he thinks you’ve hung the moon and stars, and you feel your heart swoon a little at the sight. 

“do you.. accept my apology? i know we might not be able to go back to the way we were before, but can we at least be friends again? as selfish as this may seem, i miss what we had, suna.”

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i can do that, y/n.”

a feeling of dejection washes you, but you do your best to quickly brush it off. 

“i understand. again, i’m sorry. i’m glad we had the chance to catch up, though. i should leave now-“

“you misunderstood. i can’t be just friends with you. the reason i wanted to catch up with you wasn’t so we could just be friends.”

the next words he says are the exact ones you never thought he’d say, let alone to you.

“i like you. no, i’m in love with you. it took a while to come to terms with, but i’ve been in love with you since we first became best friends. i thought i’d be able to act normal after seeing you again, that the feeling would fade, but it hasn’t. in fact, it’s only gotten stronger.”

suna thought he’d have trouble saying it, but as soon as it started, the words came out naturally, likely because the feelings he felt for you came just as naturally to him.

“now, if we’re going to be friends, i want it to be with the intention of becoming lovers in the future. i know you’re still getting over him, and you’re not ready, but if you ever think you are and you want to give me a chance, i’m right here.”

“i always have been,” he adds.

you’re speechless, and you swear you feel like your heart is pumping at 200 mph. you’d be lying if you said before you began dating atsumu, you’d never seen him as a potential partner, but that was so long ago and you were just a kid.

“oh. i’m- what? sorry, i’m just really surprised. i don’t know what to say, suna.”

“that’s alright. i’m not expecting anything right now, but in the future, if you’re looking for something, let me be the first option, yeah?”

that night, he feels like a heavy weight has been lifted off his heart. he goes to sleep thinking about how pretty you looked in the cafe.

a couple months later, you two go on your first ever date. it’s a picnic by the river near your house, and it just so happens to be on the day of a lantern festival. you both make wishes as you light your lanterns and set them into the water. he makes a quick wish that your wish will come true, and after he watches as you intently make yours. you look so cute, he can’t help but snap a picture. he should make that his lock screen, he decides.

he asks you out officially just a few months later. it happens during a romantic, candlelit dinner at his house. you’re a little drunk from the wine, so you start crying about how considerate he is and how much you like him, pulling him into a tight hug. he can’t wipe the stupid smile off his face as he comforts you.

one unsuspecting weekend, suna announces that he’ll be flying you out to one of his official volleyball games. it’s sudden, but you want to support him, so you don’t put up a fight. you’re sitting on the bleachers before the game begins, and it’s so crowded you can barely hear, but there’s no mistaking the way the announcer calls your name. you look at suna questioningly, and he gestures for you to come down. when you finally make it down onto the court, all his teammates are standing off to the side. as you get closer to suna, he smiles, and it’s so bright that you can’t help but smile back. 

he then gets down on one knee, and you swear your heart almost explodes on the spot. before he can finish his question, you jump on him, enveloping him in a hug that ends up with you on top of him on the ground. as the tears well up in your eyes, you watch as he slides the ring on your finger intently, and you realize you must have been an idiot to not notice him all this time.

divider source: cafekitsune!!

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

My Two Cents On The “ Is David Tennant Queer” Drama

As some of you know, I spent a solid third of the past year working on a movie-length video essay about David Tennant. This video essay features an eight minute section titled “Gender, Vulnerability, and Why David Tennant Is A Queer Icon”, which does not speculate on David’s own sexuality, but discusses the queer coding and subversion of gender norms in plenty of his roles and his importance as an ally to the LGBT community. At the same time, I was also coming to terms with my own identity as nonbinary and bisexual, and it ended up playing a crucial role in me finally working up the courage to come out to my parents. Characters like Crowley and the Doctor, both in terms of how they present themselves and how and who they love, have been absolutely instrumental in me developing my queer identity, and my comments section was full of people who had had similar experiences, who’d realized they were trans, nonbinary, gay, etc thanks to David and his characters. And as a result, I won’t deny that if David himself were to be queer, it would mean a lot to me.

Do I think David is queer? It’s certainly possible. I see a lot of how I express my queerness in how david chooses to express himself, most prominently through his frequent queer coding of characters who don’t necessarily have to be played as such. This can especially be seen through his Shakespeare characters, such as Richard, Hamlet, and some would argue Benedick as well. When I was 15 I played Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, who I chose to play as a closeted young gay man harboring an unrequited crush on Romeo. I think I saw this role subconsciously as an outlet for my own repressed queerness, both of gender and sexuality, as I had experienced an unrequited crush on my female best friend the previous year which I was still in denial about. I’ve described my gender identity as “a girl with a chaotic tortured gay man inside of her that needs to be let out every once in a while”, which has never been more true than with Mercutio- a character who I might add, I took a great deal of inspiration from David when playing! In terms of using roles as an outlet for one’s queerness, I could absolutelt see this being true with David, especially when it comes to Crowley, who seems to have had an impact on David’s style, behavior, etc in a rather similar way to how he’s impacted me. I don’t want to act like David wearing pink docs means he must be gay, I think people should be allowed to wear whatever they want regardless of sexuality, but taken in conjunction with so many other things about him, it does make one wonder, and the fact that a seemingly straight man has been so many people’s queer awakening is a bit puzzling to say the least. I won’t pretend that these “signs” (if you interpret them that way), haven’t been increasing somewhat in the past year, and if I got to share my own coming out journey with the man who inspired it, I would be absolutely thrilled. I also can’t specifically think of an instance where David has SAID he is straight, as opposed to Taylor swift, who has.

With all of that said, where I personally draw the line is when mere speculation crosses into interfering with the subject’s personal relationships and the sense that one is OWED something. I believe that what matters to David more than anything is being a husband and a father. I believe he adores Georgia and his children and would not do anything in the world that he believes would jeopardize his family. As happy as I would be for David if he were to come out (probably as bi) I realize that that would put so much unwanted attention on his marriage and family and I think that’s the last thing he wants. I don’t think it’s IMPOSSIBLE that he and Michael Sheen are having a passionate love affair behind everyone’s backs, but I absolutely don’t consider it my place to insist that they are, because as much as I may feel like I do, I don’t know these people! And besides, if David were cheating on Georgia, he really would not be the person I thought he was.

So many queer people see themselves in David and his characters, and that is beautiful. And I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with having theories that David might be queer himself. However, it must be acknowledged that these theories are THEORIES, and they should not be used to invalidate people’s real life relationships- after all, it’s totally possible to be bi/pan and also be in a loving and healthy heterosexual relationship like David and Georgia at least seem to be in! If David were in fact “one of us”, I would welcome him with the openest of open arms, but unless and until he himself decides to proclaim himself that way, I will not expect anything of him other than to be the incredible artist and person we know and love.

[scarecrowsandcherryblossoms]

And the prompts for KakaSaku Week 2024: Falling For You are live! Come explore our favorite couple in different seasons of love. Each day has two prompts to choose from to go along with the theme for the day, taken from unused trope of the month prompts suggested by the lovely members of our discord and other suggestions from the mods.

Feel free to fulfill one or both of each day's prompts. Fics, art, moodboards, songs, we want to see them all! (It's understood that some of these may require a little more explanation, so see below the cut for details.)

Have questions? Want to brainstorm with others? Need to gush about KakaSaku in general? Send us an ask.... or come join our Discord! We're open for ONE WEEK starting today, ending next Saturday (9/07), approximately 10 AM EST.

CLICK HERE TO JOIN THE SCARECROWS AND CHERRY BLOSSOMS DISCORD!

Falling For You Prompts (November 10-16, 2024)

Day 1-Slowly, Then All At Once

(Think about how a leaf falls from a tree, slowly, then quickly once it touches the ground. Kinda like a good slow burn romance that hits you with the feels once the characters realize that oh—they're in love)

🌸Fake Dating

🐺Gods and Mortals

Day 2-Forbidden Love

(Give me your best Montagues vs Capulets, enemies to lovers, Twilight, power imbalance dynamic, star crossed lovers etc. scenarios you can think of!)

🌸 Forced Proximity

🐺 Secrets

Day 3-Unrequited

(The angst, the heartbreak, the crying that happens in the midnight hours when one has an unrequited love. Sometimes it's not as unrequited as one thinks, but who's to say we'll ever know? 👀)

🌸 Blind Date

🐺 "oh my god they were roommates"

Day 4-It's Always Been You

(There better be so much pining a forest has sprouts in the background of the love story shown. Is the pining mutual but of course they don't know it? One sided?)

🌸 Hanahaki Disease

🐺 Firsts

Day 5-Accidentally In Love

(Think Shrek. Someone you're not supposed to fall in love with, or they were never supposed to be on your radar to begin with. Marriages/relationships of convenience, if we're not married by 35 let's marry each other! type situations.)

🌸 Fears

🐺 Love Letters

Day 6-Second Chances

(What if Kakashi and Sakura were exes? How do they get their second chance romance? Or they were almost lovers but circumstances ripped them apart and now here they are with another chance?)

🌸 Biggest Fan

🐺 Love Triangle

Day 7-5+1

(Remember all those fics about the five times a character did something or didn't do something and then the one time they did? Yeah? Well this is that. ie the fives times they almost kissed and the one time they did, or the five times they lied and the one time they didn't, etc. The possibilities are endless!)

🌸 Gift

🐺 There was only one bed

[callmelola111]

color me purple ♡ part three

 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - soundtrack - - - - ♡

synopsis: it’s summer and you’re back at camp stillwater. as a counselor you mean serious business and you’ll do whatever it takes for your cabin to come out on top. the only thing in the way of that; ellie williams and her crazy antics. 

      | 𓆣 | pairing & wc: ellie williams x reader. wc: 3.4k

      | ❀ | cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), modern au, fem reader, some angst, ellie and reader fight, sweet love confession, !!SMUT WARNING!! (minors plz steer clear of this fic + dni), swearing, dom!ellie, sub!reader, whipped cream play, slightly public??, fingering (e receiving), oral (r receiving), scissoring (e + r), pet names (princess, sweet girl, baby, etc.), praise, edging kinda, some aftercare (lmk if i missed anything!!)

a/n: hello lovelies!!! i apologize for taking a whole ass week to get out this last part, i was on vacation and not feeling very inspired. finally though, i present a nasty, sweet ending that i hope you all love. so fun to write and read back, like why am i all hot and bothered rn lol. like always, thank you for the support!! ♡~ lola

That night Ellie replayed your words over and over in her head trying to dissect their meaning. Had her player-esque persona finally caught up to her? If so, why did it matter to you?

Through some deep speculation, she began connecting the dots. There seemed to be a real possibility that you liked Ellie as more than a friend, just as she did you. There was no way to be sure though, not unless she asked. But, the task seemed daunting considering it felt as if she had already ruined what she didn’t know was there.

The image of your tear stained face was seared into Ellie’s mind and proved as motivation to confess, apologize, explain. As long as you’d listen she’d repair the damage done to your heart. A tinge of regret hit Ellie as she thought about the meaningless hookups of summer's past. It was her way of dealing with unrequited love. But of course, now that that love doesn’t seem so unrequited, her mistakes have come back to taint it. 

♡

The following morning kicked off bright and early. 8:00am to be exact. The sky was pure blue with no fluffs of white to shade from the fury that was the sun. In virtue of the rising temperatures the expansive lake beckoned masses of campers into its waters. Just in time for the kayak relay race about to take place.

Each team lined up in number order spanning across the weathered wood of the dock. At the very end stood teams 11 and 12, you and Ellie heading your rows of campers. With the sting of yesterday's interactions you continued giving Ellie the cold shoulder.

It took everything inside to void your gaze from her, trying to focus on the games, while Ellie lacked the self control to look at anything but you. She studied your glowy skin and the way your sweat gathered at the nape of your neck from the sweltering heat. She took note of the stray hairs that clung to the moisture you produced and the way your brows remained furrowed as you fought every instinct urging you towards her. It felt like absolute torture and although neither of you said a word, there was a mutual understanding of the shared pain. However, before the tension could beat down on you any longer a loud whistle blew, signaling the start of the race.

Each counselor kicked off the relay heading straight for the finish. You slipped into your kayak, gripping onto the red double-bladed paddle that propelled you forward. Ellie’s boat was in line with yours sending aggressive ripples in between the two hunks of floating plastic. The course stretched over 500 meters and as you reached the 400 meter mark you were still neck and neck with Ellie, fighting for first place.

This is usually how it went but something about today was different, something in Ellie’s eye’s hinted towards a more complicated journey towards triumph. She suddenly jerked her boat to the right, straight towards yours. The pointed tip of her kayak rammed into the side of yours rocking it side to side and throwing you off course. Knowing her abilities, you recognized this as a pursuit at instigation. 

“HEY FUCK OFF!” you shouted with anger before swerving your boat to the left, hitting hers in retaliation. Ellie continued to push back.

“Oh so now you’ll speak to me?!” 

“Are you serious right now? Stop fucking with me Ellie!” You attempted to continue forward, but as multiple racers passed you and Ellie blocked your path, it felt like no use. 

“You can’t be mad at me forever!” her voice was desperate rather than angry and this left you baffled at her exact motives. 

“Oh yeah? TRY ME!” Ellie took your words as an invitation and used her paddle to scoop at the murky water sending it your way. You screamed in irritation as it hit you right in the face, soaking your once dry body.

Before you knew it, you were rising from your seated position to catapult even more water back at her. Ellie then stood up right with you, continuing the petty fight and reaching across the edge of her floating device to grab ahold of your paddle. At this point the both of you were blinded with vexation playing tug of war with the rod of plastic. Your boat rocked back and forth, more and more violently each time as you began to lose balance. With one last wave of water and the pull of Ellie you both tumbled into the lake in a mess of arms, legs, and curses.

You quickly shot up with the help of your life jacket, now drenched. Screams and laughters erupted along with the violent blowing of Mrs. Campbell’s whistle to halt the race and deal with the trouble you and Ellie caused. The both of you had been sentenced to kitchen duty and expected to sort out whatever drama had ensued. With the weight of your decisions, you were then banished from the lake and sent off to prepare lunch in place of the usual cooks.

♡

The double doors of the mess hall swung open with attitude as you and Ellie waltzed in. The air was shockingly cool compared to the barren heat just outside. Your wet hair became a nuisance as its once cooling effect now left you cold and miserable in the air conditioning.

Ellie led the way into the sterile looking kitchen and you followed in silence. Little words had been said between the two of you since your rage filled water fight. Although now, all rage had dissipated, leaving only feelings of shame and heartache in the air you shared. The silence grew heavy and the things left unsaid began bubbling up.

You reached for a ratty gray apron hanging on the dull walls trying to focus on the assigned task of cooking lunch. Staring at the chipped paint, you fumbled at the strings behind your back trying to tie them but to no avail. 

“Uh- do you want some help?” Despite Ellie being the only one in the room, her voice startled you. She inched closer waiting for your permission to assist and you obliged. Ellie’s hands reached to the contour of your waist, gripping the fabric. The brush of her knuckles across the small of your back sent a parade of chills to your skin. Her touch was slow and agonizing. Part of you wondered if she’d purposely made such prolonged contact as she tied the strings into a sloppy bow.

Although Ellie’s duty was done, you both remained still, you facing the wall and her facing your back. She reached once more to your familiar waistline and quickly flipped you around towards her.

“There… all done.” she murmured. In that moment with just inches between each other, eyes locked, you finally felt sure of her feelings, and your feelings, and the fact that you couldn’t keep pretending to hate her. The universe would stop at nothing to bring the two of you together and it was time to surrender. Ellie’s emerald orbs were full of you and only you and she knew she had to say something. If not now, when?

“I’m so fucking sorry. For everything. Please– forgive me.” You collapsed into her body like a house of cards. These were the words you needed to hear. Voice cracking, you called out her name in desperation.

“Ellie-” She urgently completed the other half of the embrace. Your face nestled perfectly into the crick of her neck like it was fate. Pine soap and earthy lake water wafted through your senses as you took in a deep inhale of relief. The following breaths were rocky and unsteady as all your pinned up emotions rose to the surface. Still stuck in Ellie’s crevice you began a gentle cry.

“Hey- hey- look at me. Don’t cry bunny.” She pulled your damp face in the cradle of her hands and guided you into contact with her glassy, green eyes. 

“Els, you- you have no idea what you do to me.” you struggled through the vulnerable sentence. Ellie pulled you back into the warmth of her body squeezing you even tighter like she was worried you might float away. Your words sat in the air waiting to be tended to until finally Ellie acted.

“I think I might.” Her answer was like a warm blanket around your heart. You looked up from your sanctuary in her frame and she stared back. You played a cat and mouse game of glances from eyes to lips and pressure rose.

Ellie took a deep inhale and asked the anticipated question, “can I kiss you?” With no time for words you dove into her soft mouth. Your top lip slotted perfectly in between hers, sealing the gap of yearning that had amassed from years of rivalry.

The peck was hard and long. It’s tenderness evoked cries of queer happiness from the both of you. Your tears mixed with hers was an act of love, and a long-awaited one at that. Ellie’s lips began to wander down to your neck and then your collarbones evoking sweet giggles from your throat. 

“Ellie- Ellie- enough. We do have to cook, you know.” A disappointing realization but true nonetheless. 

“Fine, fine.” Ellie’s kisses halted but you could still feel each one radiating off your skin. Your smile didn’t falter once as you and Ellie whipped up lunch for the campers. Who would’ve thought punishment could be this fun?

♡

After the 12 cabins passed in and out of the mess hall, consuming the meal, you and Ellie followed behind to clean up. After the kitchen was tidied, you both ventured into the dining area to wipe off the tables scattered throughout.

You dipped your sudsy rag into the bucket of cleaning solution and swirled it across the laminated wood. The table was long and wide forcing you to bend over the edge to extend your arm towards the hard to reach parts. Your ass up in the air was like a bright flag waving for Ellie to come over and assist, but not with the cleaning. She snaked both arms around your waist connecting them at your tummy. Her groin then pressed at your hips with reverence. She admired your shape and the way you somehow always slotted perfectly into her.

“Ellieeee…” You drug out her name nice and long, disguising your pleasure with annoyance. She began planting more kisses in the same pattern as before.

“What? Do you want me to stop?” You sat up now parallel with her body, ass still against crotch. Breathy air escaped from your mouth as Ellie gently nibbled at your ear, sending your head into a spin. You gulped out a string of “nos”, adamant about how much you needed her. And how you needed her now.

Your expression of desperation triggered Ellie’s strong hands into action. The 5 digits dragged up the right side of your ribs causing the soft red fabric of your shirt to bunch up, her firm motions stopping at the underside of one of your breasts. Ellie kneaded hungrily at the mound of fat, reveling in your braless form and hardening nipples. 

“C’mere, turn towards me. I wanna see your pretty face.” Her request flowed from her blushed lips like a symphony and you quickly obeyed. The table dug into your back leaving a mark as Ellie towered over you in desire like an animal. You tugged at the hem of her blue T-shirt sliding your hand under the linen. You were just as needy. Her abs flexed with the exploration of your eager hands. Wanting more, she leaned in close to deliver the message.

Her hot breath tickled you ear as she whispered, “you wanna make purple?” No matter how hot and bothered the both of you were, Ellie still found time to insert in her stupid humor. The cheesy sexual innuendo made you snicker but only for a moment before you were pulled back into her world of desire.

You nodded fervently to urge the escalation of this interaction, so she scooped you up by your pillow soft thighs and whisked you away to the kitchen. The stainless steel countertop where Ellie had positioned you was cold and left the back of your legs moderately numb. Overflowing with lust, you went for Ellie’s lips but she quickly pulled away before you could reach them.

“Ah, ah, ah.” she tsk’s before dashing away to the large industrial fridge, sending the double doors flying open with her pull.

“Els? What are you doing?” you questioned, feeling the ache between your legs amp up. You weren’t sure how much longer you could wait for her touch.

“I’m hungry.” she answered simply, pulling out a large red canister of dairy. Confusion was your prominent emotion but you didn’t dare to question her methods. Shaking the metal up and down vigorously she ran back, popping off the cap on the way. Your clenched thighs were quickly peeled apart by Ellie as she made room for herself between your dangling legs. In one hand she hoisted up the whipped cream and with her other she took your chin, angling it upward.

“Open.” she commanded. You separated your lips in obedience but it wasn’t enough.

“Wider.” Ellie’s hand cradled your jaw as it dropped even further this time. With this she squirted the milky, white cream down your throat. 

“Now swallow,” she instructed until your compliance, “good girl.” A cocky, power hunger smirk painted Ellie’s face as she watched you melt into the palm of her hand. You were sure that the thin cotton of your panties was now far from dry. 

“We’re gonna have some fun now... hands up.” With assistance from the girl in blue, you shed a layer of clothing. Your tit’s instantly perked up with the frigid air of the kitchen now surrounding them. Ellie watched in awe as dozens of fantasies played out in her head. It was a struggle just deciding what she wanted to do to you first.

The whipped cream assisted her next steps as she sprayed it across your remarkable chest. You gasped in pleasure at the cold, wet sensation. Drips of white began to trickle down your stomach as Ellie played clean up with the help of her tongue. The pink muscle pressed flat to your sternum collecting a heaping of cream and then venturing back to your own mouth. Teeth clashed and tongues wrestled as the white liquid swirled between the exchange of salvia. You left the kiss just for a moment to let out an urgent mewl. Ellie’s attention was then diverted back to your beautiful, beautiful body. She continued lapping up the sweetness taking time in between to suck on your erect nipples.

“Shit- baby, it got all over your cute little shorts,” she continued, her voice smooth like butter, “we better get these off of you then, huh?” Your bottom lip quivered in sexual agony, anticipating the future promises of friction. Ellie took her built arms and hooked them around the back of your legs. Upon swift movement she pulled you to the edge of the counter, stealing your shorts and panties in the process. Frigid steel made contact with your puffy clit aiding in some sense of satisfaction while you pleaded with Ellie.

“P-please, n-n-need you Els.” You bucked your hips demonstrating the amount of discomfort you were feeling. Ellie played dumb.

“Need what?” She teased your aching cunt with gentle brushes of her fingers at your thighs and you yelped.

“Need your fingers- your mouth- something- pleassee.” The words came out in a long slur but Ellie knew just what you were begging for oh so desperately. Having fun with her little game, she brought back the canister of white fluff, this time dispersing it across the heat you held between your inviting thighs.

Red plump lips belonging to Ellie planted deep into each bit of your flesh before eventually reaching their final destination. Your exquisite folds were glazed in milk and sugar like a special treat waiting to be devoured. For just a few seconds everything was frozen as Ellie was trapped by your fantasy-like beauty. Saving the image to memory, she dove into your crotch like it was her first, last, and only meal. Her tongue swirled through every crevice of you, taking only a few beats to express words of praise…

“My sweet, sweet girl.” , “You’re all mine” , “You taste so fucking good princess.”

Although, her affirmations could hardly be understood over your exuberant cries of pleasure. In your case, sentences were the last thing being formed as your bliss began to reach a fever pitch. 

“Close,” you mumbled, “so close.”

Ellie halted all movements, not wanting it to end.

“You think I’m gonna let you cum that easy? No way baby, we still have more fun to be had.” She shook her head taunting you. No matter how much it hurt, Ellie was in control and you clenched hard trying to prevent any further acceleration to your orgasm. You wanted to be the very best girl for your very best girl. 

“Come on, let’s take this to the pantry.” She hoisted you up off your place in the kitchen and assisted you there, your slick dripping down the innards of your legs as you walked (it was really more of a wobble and hop). 

With a glistening face of your wetness, Ellie then commanded you again, “Lie down for me pretty.” You did so as Ellie stripped herself down, meeting your bareness. She dipped into your form on the cold tile but the heat of your bodies was enough to distract from all the outside factors.

Purple and blue welts appeared across your neck and breasts as Ellie sucked every bit of skin she could in between the wrath of her teeth. With her parallel to you, your hands reached down to confront the mess that was Ellie’s folds. 

“So wet.” you whimpered in satisfaction. Knowing how just your sole pleasure could do that much to her drove you mad. You couldn’t help but slip a finger inside her tight little hole, trying to give back even just a sliver of the bliss she gave you. Ellie gasped as you filled her up, releasing the bit of flesh in her mouth that she had been suctioning to.

As much as she reveled in your pleasure, you reveled in hers. More whipped cream squirted between your bodies, mixing with the influx of sweat being produced. After many sloppy, in-and-out pumps of your digits you pulled them out to taste.

Ellie took this as an opportunity to grab your hips, holding them still for her own to align just right. You both began rocking against each other, unsteady at first, but with practice you gained a perfect rhythm. Clits bumped as heaving breaths and loud groans shot through the air. The mess hall pantry has become heaven on earth. 

“Fuccckkk,  I think I’m gonna…” Ellie erupted and you followed.

“Mmmmm.” Your back arching and her hips bucking chaotically, Ellie assaulted your sensitive ball of nerves with her own. The stars aligned and the angels sang as the both of you reached the climax of your lives. It was euphoric. White flooded your vision as you continued to ride out this high with the girl of your dreams. Sweet, sweet Ellie Williams.

Finally, the ravenous movement and desperate attempts at pleasure caught back up, leaving you limp and fucked out. Ellie lay next to you with a firm grip on your hand, maintaining contact as a sense of comfort and slight fear that if she didn’t hold on you’d vanish into thin air. You rolled to your side scattering gentle pecks on her arms and torso. 

“My special girl” you whispered into her skin, just loud enough for Ellie to hear. She smiled at you and then let out a large sigh of release, kissing you back.

“God, you’re sticky. Wonder how that happened??” A stupid little grin was stamped on her face as she teased about the recent sexual escapades.

“Let me clean you up, yeah?” You nodded with adoring eyes. She was an angel in bed and out of it. With a wet rag Ellie cleaned up the sugary, sweet mess, giving an occasional kiss of tenderness. It was all you could’ve ever asked for, and it continued that way for the rest of the summer and many more to come.

 ✄ - - - -   part 1 , part 2 , part 3   - - - - masterlist - - - - ♡

taglist...

@endureher @gold-dustwomxn @alexpritch @4rt3m1ss @robinismywifee @sophlovesbooks @97cityy

(taglist is for all callmelola111 works, if you'd like to be removed just kindly lmk)

[champion-of-love]

this doesnt fit with canon but i love the idea of a long line of cupids going to ever after high or monster high. every generation is just a fairy tale mess with relationships, situationships, hookups, unrequited loves and etc. and every cupid's first shot is just the Worst Match Possible (baby steps ya know)

in monster high, c.a. cupid first paired clawd and cleo together and it was a disaster. (though they're friends now)

the cupid that attended eah before chariclo first paired apple's mom and raven's mom and it was also the greatest disaster ever. (divorced and not talking)

[despairots]

- at the top of my lungs, in my arms, she dies , #c. nakahara!

description, there’s a reason why chuuya never went to visit you. it’s been like that every since that fateful day of dazai jumping, leaving no goodbye to chuuya. he felt distraught, but he’s moving on, taking the lead of the port mafia boss. though, he’s wondering if you miss him.

story contains, suicide, swearing, mafia activities, character deaths, beast!bsd spoilers, unrequited love??, more like right person, not enough time, angst, etc. gender neutral! reader. drabble, short.

it’s terrifying that i never wrote about chuuya,,,, anyways my bsf is gonna watch bsd and im tryna gatekeep dazai and chuuya from him (i showed akutagawa to him so he can take him)

chuuya nakahara doesn’t remember the last time he visited you. he was piled in work, and a few work that dazai refused to take on and do, leaving it to chuuya. he’s stressed, i mean, who wouldn’t? he’s the port mafia boss.

he hasn’t seen you in a while, he’s too afraid to face you. thinking about all the guilt on leaving you would catch up to him, it’s not that he doesn’t feel guilty— he does— he doesn’t know if you’ll forgive him. he knows you’re a pretty forgiving person, until it’s someone you care about is hurting you a lot.

chuuya’s scared, in short words.

he remembers your touch, your leadership, your eyes, you don’t smile often, he misses it though. he cherishes you very much, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be thinking of you this much.

he hasn’t seen you ever since dazai’s suicide, he misses you both (dazai, a little bit less). after all, you were chuuya’s first love, how couldn’t he miss you? everyday, chuuya wonders what would happen if you didn’t leave.

now, at the port mafia, he’s by himself. all alone. piled with work and the amount of mafioso’s that don’t know how to work. as much as he hates this job, it’s the only place he feels like he belongs in, his loyalty goes beyond.

he wants to see you, so much that it’s hurting him. kouyou could see the look of distraught on the boss, as an executive, she asks what’s wrong with him. they can’t have their boss in this type of state.

kouyou knows how much you mean to him, he has a picture of you in his office, a spider lily caged in a glass beside the photo. she could tell that chuuya loves you, very much so, until the very end.

she’s visited you here and there, telling you how chuuya is and how much he misses you, aswell as wanting to see you. she remembers the words that you’ll wait for him, no matter how long until he sees you.

you had told her not to tell chuuya, well, because maybe chuuya will hurry the process and be there as soon as possible. you wanted him to take his time, you’d wait forever for him, even in death.

“where are you going?” kouyou asks, the answer already in her head once she sees the port mafia boss turn around, holding a bouquet of red roses. “you wanna come with?” the sight makes kouyou widen her eyes a bit before she closes them and turns around.

“i already saw them.” she whispered softly, her heels clicking on the floor as chuuya nods and leaves the building, a black car appearing in front of him.

chuuya can’t remember your voice, he only has your voicemails. he can’t remember your smell either, he only has a few months left until all your clothing, bedsheets, pillows, and perfumes are gone.

the sight of your place comes into view, stepping out of the car and heading straight to yours, the guilt and excitement all rushing into his brain—

—until he steps infront of your grave. dropping the roses on your grave and seeing the left over flowers kouyou left for you. there’s a restrained look of sadness on his face as he stares down on your grave, the wind blowing past him.

he’s scared that you won’t forgive him, for not visiting you, for not being there for you when you needed him the most, and especially, not being strong enough to save you. he thinks that maybe he should’ve just stayed with you, to stop you from hurting yourself any longer.

it’s the life time guilt he has for not being able to forget you, he gave you up to fast and chuuya wants to experience the life of being with you again.

there’s a reason why chuuya never went to visit you.

it’s because you’re dead.

[starii-void]

there were other ways calypso and leo’s relationship couldve been written, in this essay i will

this isnt a hot take at all but caleo just has. so many problems. im not gonna list em but anyone who’s read hoo and toa knows

so how could it have been written better? here are my (a non writer who has shit articulation) opinions, please be nice

1. They date, then break up

this feels like a likely thing to happen bcs as we know, leo is notoriously flirty and seeking relationships and calypso falls in love REAL easily. so ofc, being stuck on an island together with no other company for like weeks on end would lead to a relationship of some kind. though i think that relationship would most likely be. unhealthy.

so yeah, theyd get together, but itd probably start showing problems very quickly as we see in TOA. but from there, i think they shouldve broken up. maybe it could be caused by an outside intervention from someone who. maybe has better experience with healthy relationships. jiper being an example, since they broke up after piper realized their relationship was basically started with lies.

once they broke up, leo could learn that romance isnt a cure all (cough rick cough) and that he doesnt need a partner to ‘fit in’. the whole seventh wheel thing was a big part of his characterization so i think unlearning that whole mess would be a good thing for him, esp since TOA had a lot of ‘growing and developing and changing’ as a theme. he could learn to define and support himself outside of his relationship with women (mommy issuesss)

calypso could also learn to support herself and have relationships with people that arent unrequited crushes, what with how her only human interaction was with random men who couldnt stay.

2. They stay as friends

Basically same character benefits as the last one, just different methods.

Leo realizes he doesnt like calypso in that way on the island during that time itself, maybe due to self reflection or something. maybe they have an intervention/impromptu therapy session or something and figure themselves out. not like they have much else to do on the island

this way, we get to see him figure out (is that the right word?) that being friends w/ women isnt automatically a gateway to romance. that its not so simple. that he can have close friends without having to date anyone (+ possible aro rep here but thats just me projecting) then from there, he can develop this further and come to terms that he doesnt need a romantic relationship to be loved etc etc

3. They stay together, but it’s established as. not good

now for this one i think its less likely since this entire thing is still sorta a kids book series and authors dont usually include these types of topics without it being resolved, but it is something to think about

caleo’s relationship in TOA felt pretty icky at least to me, so i imagine it isnt setting the best example for kids if its portrayed as normal/a good thing

in this method, their relationship could stay but just be more established as not normal and unhealthy bcs. it kinda is

anyways thats my ted talk. please dont kill me im bad at articulating

[deathbypufferfish]

Here's the second list but for story ideas for the sims!

This list is comprised of ideas that have to do with storylines, scenarios, character dynamics, conflicts, character attributes, and more! Of course you can technically do whatever you want in a sims story, but this list is curated to story ideas that can in some way be played out in-game. Whether it's through the game, mods, or imagination. A lot of these are not wholesome lol, if you are looking for more wholesome story ideas I recommend my gameplay list. Please feel free to add to the story soup! Just note in your ask it is for the soup and keep it within the parameters I mentioned above. (To keep the post from getting too long I'll make a contributor list into a compressed image later on for those who send off-anon.)

If you are looking for sims gameplay centered ideas check out the Gameplay Gumbo list here!

🍲 Soup below the cut! ⬇

Conflict:

Money loss from gambling

A character is addicted to shoplifting

A huge fight at a wedding, funeral, large event etc.

Financial difficulties

Miscommunication

Drop out of or fail university

Drop out or fail out of high school

Shit talk a friend/family member

Loss of job

Failed business

Blackmail

Death of family member/friend/love interest

A character is caught cheating on their partner and is blackmailed for it.

Arson (fireworks indoors)

A character steals money from another/asks for a large loan and never pays it back

Betrayal from a friend

Character spirals after a break up

Evicted from home/apartment

House fire

Love:

A forgotten anniversary

Meet Cute: two characters meet on a train

Side character is caught cheating

Meet Cute: two characters meet when one of them finds the other’s lost pet

Child out of infidelity (keep it a secret for a long time or get caught)

Divorce (amicable or messy)

A celebrity character falls in love with their bodyguard

A potential love interest is rich kid looking for someone to make their life more “interesting”

Have a couple have a huge fight and makeup

A rejected proposal

Best friends/siblings have feelings for the same person

Character has a fear of commitment

A best friend is moving away and your character has to confess their love to them

Enemies to lovers

Competitive coworkers turned lovers

A couple breaks up over one of them losing all their money

Start a throuple/open relationship (Open Love Life Mod)

Be the other person in someone’s affair

Have an affair

A reluctant partner abandons their partner when they get pregnant (Good with Relationship & Pregnancy Overhaul Mod)

Runaway bride/groom/partner

Bridezilla

Running away together

Meet the parents

Affair

Partner lied about who they are

Accidental kiss

Fake relationship

Enemies to lovers

Forbidden love

Give an old relationship a second chance

Unrequited Love

Divorced couple getting back together (possibly secretly/affair)

Secret Admirer

Vegas/Drunk wedding

Secretly in love with partner’s friend/family member

Love triangle leads to throuple

Rocky marriage

Couple that refuses to divorce

Have a one night stand (Simda Dating App)

Friends who are in denial about being in love

Trophy Wife/Husband/Partner

Couple wants different things

Couple from different social class/different worlds

Married because of an unexpected pregnancy

Married too young

A couple married for a long time having intimacy problems

Happy or unhappy couple has separate rooms/beds

A marriage doesn’t last long

Bromance turns into romance

Childhood friends to lovers later in life

Clingy, jealous partner

Family:

Someone abandons the family

Annoying/Terrible in-laws

Overbearing/Overprotective parent

Neglectful parent

Having to choose between your partner and your family who dislikes them

Bad sibling relationships

Conflict-avoidant family (buries all their problems)

Disagreeing on how to parent

A child is getting bullied by their peers

Strained Parent/Teen relationship

Teen Pregnancy (Supportive or Unsupportive family. Good with Relationship & Pregnancy Mod)

Found family

Blended family

Multi-generational family

Tension between step-parent and step-children

Tension between step-siblings

Chaos children

Tension between the favorite child and their siblings

Sudden or unexpected baby (possibly from one night stand/fling)

Secret baby from old relationship

Amicable exes who co-parent well together

Nepotism

Dysfunctional family

Breaking the cycle of bad parenting

Cool Uncle/Cool Aunt

Children being raised by family other than their parents (aunt, uncle, sibling, grandparents)

Single parent

Divorced parent who spoils their kids

Disowned child/parent

Embarrassing Parent

Parent prioritizes work over family/partner

Family Curse

Humble parents, spoiled kids

Child wants to be nothing like their parent(s)

Platonic co-parenting

Secret family

Sibling jealousy

My Favorite Mods for Storytelling:

Simda Dating App

Contextual Social Interactions

First Impressions

LGBTQIA+ Mod

Open Love Life

Relationship & Pregnancy Overhaul

Wicked Whims (18+, mod not linked)

Basemental Drugs (18+, mod not linked)

Resources Used

List is added to when I have new ideas so check in time-to-time for more!

[maybege]

A Helping Hand

Summary: When one more omega is in the group, the suppressants aren’t enough for everyone and you end up getting your heat for the first time since the outbreak. (Part of The Weight of The World AU)

Pairing: alpha!Boba Fett x fem!omega!Reader

Wordcount: 5.1k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, Zombie Apocalypse AU, A/B/O dynamics (scenting, heats, etc.), yearning, unrequited love (or is it?), a little bit of fluff, explicit sexual content, dry orgasm(?), pet names (princess, good girl, etc.), praise kink

Good morning everyone and happy weekend! I hope the summer is treating you well and that you are looking forward to the second half of this year. 🥰 It has been way too long since I delved into my love for Boba, so if you’re interested in a part two (perhaps he helps Reader out with her heat? 👀), let me know! I really hope that you enjoy this story and would be very very happy if you let me know what you think in a comment or a reblog!

Please note that “Sunshine” is essentially Reader from the Paz version but I had to give her a nickname somehow to make sure she is still part of this.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

When Charlie presented as an omega, everyone in the group knew you were fucked.

There was no better way to say it.

“We don’t have enough suppressants,” Paz said out loud what everybody knew already, “They are harder and harder to come by and the last pharmacy didn’t have any. Chants is already on half a dosage, I am not sure how we can stretch them more.”

“What’s that? Suppressants?”

Din turned to the little boy that had snuck his way into the conversation. “Something for grownups, buddy, c’mon let us talk in peace.”

You smiled when Grogu shrugged, completely unbothered, and returned to where he had been playing with Pan and Jarno.

Sometimes you envied the kids in your group for the semblance of innocence they could still afford to have. And then you felt bad because this was not the childhood you wanted for them. Stars, you knew about babies being born and the thought that this was the only kind of life they would ever get to know made your stomach hurt and your heart ache.

Yet, they did not have to deal with problems like you were now. The adults of the group had come together, standing together and saying nothing but muddling over the same thing. Deep down, you knew that there was only one solution and you were pretty sure that almost everyone had come to that conclusion.

Almost.

“Maybe I don’t need suppressants,” Charlie piped up, shifting nervously next to his mother, Bernie, “I could pass my heat just like that.”

“No, you can’t,” Briggs said flatly, the old man crossing his arms in front of his chest. He had not been here the longest, only joining the group a few months ago when Paz had found him and Sunshine fighting off a horde of zombies. But despite his recent status in the group, he had risen in rank quickly, his advice and opinion honoured by those you had chosen as unofficial leaders.

One of these leaders was Boba who was standing right across from you. Like Briggs, he had crossed his arms in front of his chest, his biceps bulging and you swallowed, trying to keep your staring as subtle as possible.

With the late summer now cooling down, he had started to wear flannel again and you were a little embarrassed to admit that fall had not only become your favourite season because of the harvests you could make but also because you got to see the alpha stroll around with rolled up sleeves.

Trying your best not to look too long at him, you glanced back at Charlie.

“But what if I –“

“Charlie, dear,” Moira piped up, her voice gentle and kind. It was the same voice she had used to comfort Bernie this morning after she had made the discovery that her son’s scent was not as beta-like as she had hoped. “Briggs is right,” the older woman explained, “You will need your suppressants more than anyone else in this group.”

More than you.

You swallowed heavily, trying to get enough oxygen into your lungs to fool your heart into believing that you were not about to have a full-blown panic attack.

Charlie’s light eyes met yours and you knew him well enough to know that he was feeling the same way.

“Come on, Charlie,” you heard yourself say, stepping forward, “Let’s go for a walk.”

Everyone else let you pass without a word of protest and Paz nodded at you in approval. Bernie looked like she had about a thousand different things on her mind and you could not blame her. The outbreak was the least ideal place to be an omega – much less discover being an omega. And to see that your child had to be an omega in this cruel world? You could not imagine the pain she was going through.

The tree line was only a few steps away from where you had stood, the clearing only barely big enough for you to set up camp, and so it only took a few more steps until the thick trunks provided you with some privacy. With the summer nearing its end, the leaves filtered the sunlight a light gold and you took a moment to appreciate the pure beauty and peace of it.

In the last few years, there had not been enough moments like this.

You watched as Charlie started to pace from tree to tree, bouncing off them like the DVD logo on the sides of the screen. There were a lot of things you wanted to say, a lot of things you wanted to assure him of. But you also knew that he was not prone to listening right now and you could not blame him.

 “I don’t want to take your suppressants away from you,” the boy started, tears of anger running down his cheeks, “I – I don’t want to be an omega and I don’t want to have heats and I don’t want everyone to look at me like I am a fucking failure!”

His voice got louder and louder and in peak teenage fashion, he kicked his foot over the ground, sending a bunch of leaves up in the air and sailing down to the mossy floor.

Your brows rose in surprise.

“They are not my suppressants,” you corrected him gently, “They are for those in the group that need it most. And that is you.”

Charlie huffed, still not looking at you.

“It’s okay to be scared,” you said, “And it’s okay that you are unhappy with your presentation. Stars knew I always wanted to be a beta. But,” you stepped closer to him, “We don’t always get to choose what happens. And while it speaks to your character that you don’t want to put me in an uncomfortable situation, Briggs is right. Everyone is. You don’t know what a heat is like, especially your first one. It is too dangerous. At least I had mine already, I know what it is like.”

“That was years ago,” he protested, “Before the outbreak.”

“Yes, but it is still more experience than you have,” you added.

That seemed to get him thinking but he still did not look very happy. Deep down you knew it was not your fault that he was feeling this way or your responsibility to make him feel better. But you remembered how terrified you had been when you had your first heat and how terrified he must feel now.

“Look,” you took a deep breath, “We always knew that there would come a point where we have to choose who gets the suppressants. We were just lucky until now. Lucky that Chants has an implant and that Moira doesn’t get her heats anymore. And we got especially lucky when Sunshine mated with Paz before she could need them,” you said glancing over at where the giant man was gazing at his omega like she hung the stars in the sky.

The gaps in the trees afforded you the perfect view of the camp and when you saw the couple, so very in love with each other, something tugged at your heartstrings. You had never been interested in Paz that way but something you stung when you saw the way he looked at his mate. You wanted someone to look at you the way he looked at her.

You wanted someone to love you.

Charlie’s shaky breath snapped you out of your thoughts.           

“Anyway,” you sighed, putting your hand on his shoulders, “If you are feeling like you take the suppressants from me – you are not. I know what I am getting into.”

“I always thought I was going to be a beta,” the boy finally said, revealing the true reason for his upset, “Like mom … and like dad.”

Your heart ached.

“You’re not less like your parents just because your presentation is different,” you assured him, “You will always be their son.”

“I know but … I feel like I disappointed her,” his shoulders slumped, his head “Mom, I mean.”

“Oh honey,” you pulled him in for a hug, “She is not disappointed. She is just worried about you.”

He wrapped his arms around you and you pretended not to notice the way his body was shaking or how his hot tears soaked your shirt.

Minutes passed like this and you could see the birds flying in the crowns of the trees, the leaves and canopy shaking and throwing intricate patterns on the forest floor. You wished you could stay here forever, in this little, safe corner of the world that seemed so far away from everything that wanted to kill you.

But you knew you never stayed in a place too long and it would be time again soon to move somewhere else.

“Thank you for that,” Charlie mumbled and pulled away from you, “Can – Can I be alone for a bit?”

“Sure thing, kid,” you smiled, “Don’t stay too long or else Briggs will send a search party out.”

He nodded and you smiled before making your way back to the camp. The leaves crunched under your shoes and you spotted a little squirrel rushing its way up a tree.

Your head was spinning as you approached the group, the reality of the situation really sinking in. Then again, it really should not be a problem at all. There was no reason to be nervous. After all, you were in a somewhat protected environment and you were an adult. You should be able to face a heat alone. Right?

Everyone was busy doing something (your heart warmed at the sight of Grogu, Pan and Jarno listening completely enraptured to Moira and Briggs retelling a Shakespeare play) but you could not find it in yourself to join anyone.

“All good?” Chants asked you, looking up from where he was working on one of the cars with Din.

You nodded, “All good.”

There was no reason to tell him that you felt like your heart was about to explode from fear or that you could feel your palms get sweaty at the thought of stopping to take the pills immediately.

*

That night, the entire group sat by the fire, seeming like the issue from this morning was long forgotten. Briggs, Paz and Din were bowed over a map they had placed on the hood of Altarf’s truck, probably planning the safest route to take when it was time to change camps.

Altarf and Sluice had been on dinner duty today and the stew they made still sat warm in your belly. The night air had cooled down significantly so you had remained at your place by the fire, amicably chatting with Sunshine and Bernie. You could see Grogu and the kids playing in the dirt by some of the cars.

Chants and Moira were off collecting the hanging laundry of the day and you already looked forward to wearing some freshly washed clothes. 

How lucky you were that even years later you could all go to bed with a full stomach and the knowledge that you would wake up in the morning. Somewhat safe, somewhat sheltered, and surrounded by people who had become family.

“Wisconsin would take us right by Minneapolis,” Paz said, drawing a line with his finger. You smirked when you noticed how Sunshine immediately zoned out of the conversation, all her attention on her alpha.

“We are definitely not heading to Washington,” Din protested, “Heard that corner is a powder keg waiting to explode.”

“North, then?” Briggs asked, “If the tracks we found are anything to go by we would need to get a few days’ distance between us and here.”

Hearing them talk about moving camp made you anxious. When would your heat strike? Would you be so unlucky to have it while you were on the move? You had been on suppressant for so long that you hardly remembered what it felt like to go into heat. Would you really survive several hours in a car with your mind occupied with being fucked seven ways to Sunday?

“You okay?”

You flinched, looking up at the alpha that had just joined you.

“Boba,” you chided the man who gave you the hint of a smile.

He sat down next to you, the fire illuminating his features and you allowed yourself to look at him a little longer than usual.

Boba Fett was … He was …

Boba Fett was the kind of man you had dreamt about before the outbreak. And, to be honest, after the outbreak. The way he held himself so full of confidence and competence had always attracted you and you found that with each day that passed, you had another little thing you loved liked about him.

One day, it had been the way the crow’s feet on his eyes showed when he laughed. It was a rare sight but that made it all the more special, seeing him joke around with Din or Paz or one of the kids.

Another day, it had been exactly that: the way he was with the kids. At first, you had expected him to be a grumpy loner but there was a kindness there when he taught them about the dangers of weapons and made sure to show them to properly handle one if they ever came across a rifle.

Then there had been his hands. Stars, his hands. Thick long fingers and palms weathered from work. You knew he hadn’t been a mechanic like Din but that he had helped him out and he still did now, fixing cars and engines right and left in that week when all of your vehicles had started making problems, threatening to get you stuck in Northern Arizona.

That was another thing: his competence. It made you weak in the knees and your panties wet to see him be so knowledgeable about so many things. Sure, it started when you had seen him, hands greasy and white tank top stained, fix one of the trucks like it was nothing. But it had continued when he had disassembled and cleaned his guns and put them back together again like it was no big deal. Or that one night where you had crossed a group and had spent dinner together and one of them had a guitar. You remembered it like it was yesterday, the surprise on (almost) everyone’s faces when Boba had asked for the guitar and played a few songs for the group.

Another day it had been his jaw and the stubble that grew when he went a few days without shaving. You wondered what it would feel like on your neck or between your thighs and you woke up more than one morning, vivid dream memories in your minds of how he had scented you with a stubble jaw like that.

Yes, Boba Fett was the alpha that made your voice stutter, your heart race and your pussy feel so very empty. Only that you were too shy to ever do anything about it. With Paz and his mate, it had been obvious to everyone (except for them) that they were meant for one another and it had taken barely any time for them to figure it out, too.

But you and Boba … You had been part of this group almost for the entirety after the outbreak. If anything were to happen, it would have happened by now. You were sure of it.

Realizing that you had stared at him for a little too long, you cleared your throat and looked at the glowing ambers of the fire.

“You okay, Princess?” he asked you quietly, “You’ve been quiet today.”

“Oh, you know,” you shrugged, trying to ignore how that made your cheeks feel suspiciously hot, “Just thinking.”

“You’re worried about the suppressants, aren’t you?”

You did not say anything which, apparently, was confirmation enough.

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” he stated, calm and confident and it was so easy to just believe him when he continued, “You’ll be the safest you can ever be, omega. It will be over before you know it and then we can see if we can some more suppressants up in Wisconsin.”

“Charlie’ll need them,” you said, your hands fidgeting, “I won’t get suppressants any time soon, Boba, we both know it.”

When you turned your head to look at him, you were met with brown eyes gazing at you so intimately, it made you want to crawl right into his arms. It made you want to curl up in his lap, tuck your face into the crook of his neck and just breathe him in until everything was right again in the world.

He opened his mouth, ready to say something and you saw his hand twitch like he was about to reach out to you.

“Now now, what are we whisperin’ about?” Moira laughed, sitting down on your other side. Sluice and Chants were with her and you watched as Sunshine walked over to Paz, being greeted with a grin and a soft kiss.

“Nothing of importance,” Boba replied, still looking only at you but straightening up. Only now did you notice how close he had been, how his knee had brushed against yours, and now with him standing up, how it left you cold and alone. “I think I’ll head over to Din … get the details of the route we’re taking.”

You wanted to ask him to stay with you a little longer but your shyness made the words dry on your tongue and you watched him leave.

“Hey there, princess,” Sluice grinned, sidling up to you. You knew she was just teasing you. It was the running joke in the group that Boba kept calling you princess like it meant something.

Of course, it didn’t.

(But stars knew you really wanted it to.)

*

It took four days for you to notice that something was wrong.

There even was a moment where you had had the slightest hope that maybe you wouldn’t get your heat. That you had taken the suppressant for so long that your body has just decided to skip them altogether and make your life that much easier.

But of course, it didn’t.

It started with you feeling more restless than usual. Whereas the kids’ shenanigans previously amused you, they now surprised you. Even more so when they would jump from behind trees but fake scare you only for it to end up really scaring you. They laughed at first at your surprised squeal and the little jump backwards you made, good-natured as kids were, but by the fourth time it happened, a stern Boba rushed over, his hand on your back, and telling them off on how it was mean to keep scaring you like that.

Then your temperature rose. Only at night at first. Despite the evening cooling down and Chants getting, you kicked off your blanket more and more, wishing you could just take off all your clothes and bathe in a cool stream. Then it happened when people touched you. Altarf brushed your hand once when giving you a few dishes and it felt like your skin was on fire, making you flinch. The same happened with Paz, the big man frowning with concern when you jumped away from him when his hand landed on your shoulder.

(It didn’t happen with Boba. Or at least it didn’t happen like that with Boba. Boba’s touch caused a warm fire in your belly that spread outwards until your entire skin was gently tingling with the need to be touched by him. Which was perfectly normal, you tried to tell yourself.)

You flinched away not only from but from everyone who had not approached you loud enough or anyone who touched you. No, your clothes started to feel scratchy, ill-fitting and just way too thick. Sluice started to tease you about how you were always fiddling with the collar of your shirt, trying to get the cool late summer air onto your body.

Not to mention the smells.

Stars, the smells.

You had never really bothered with how the others smelled. Sure, you had been faintly aware of how Paz’s scent had changed when Sunshine had first joined and how they both had become more prominent. Or how Charlie, now having his own presentation, had gotten his own scent. Or how musky and woodsy and comfortable Boba smelled. But that was nothing compared to the stench they now all emitted – except for Boba.

It was like you could no longer stand being around them. The only people you tolerated were the kids and Bernie. But the person you sought out the most was Boba because he smelled divine.

If he noticed it, he did not show it but the important part was that you noticed. And you knew you didn’t have long until things would get serious for you.

Only that you had not expected it to get serious so soon.

The night was dark and quiet when you had snuck out of the truck. You tried to tell yourself it was because you could not sleep but deep down you knew it was because you were way too hot and even Chants – Chants! – started to reek so bad you could no longer spend even a minute in that truck with him.

You knew it wasn’t his fault. If anyone’s, it was yours. But so, you snuck out, into the cool night air that made your skin feel normal again and that was free of any stench because everyone was fast asleep in their cars. If you focused enough you could even hear Altarf’s snoring.

Being outside helped, you found, but as quickly as your body cooled down from the heat wave, just as quickly did it reach a temperature that had you shivering. Debating if you wanted to risk getting back to the truck to get you something warmer or if you could –

Your thoughts were interrupted by pain so bad it made you double over.

A split second of confusion gave way to the realization that you were starting your heat.

The muscles in your abdomen cramped up again and you gasped, falling to all fours as you tried to gather the strength to press your palm against your belly. The touch helped minder the pain a little but it also made you aware of how you were yearning to be touched.

You wanted to feel hands on you – in your – and your pussy to be filled and someone to sink his teeth into your neck and mark you his.

Who were you kidding you didn’t want someone, you wanted Boba.

Tears of frustration and fear stung in your eyes and you tried to even your breathing.

This was okay. Everything was okay. It was not the first time you had your heat and it would not be the last time and hell, if you had gotten through it before, you would get through it again. Didn’t matter if it felt like your body was burning up from the inside and the only thought that made it better (and then much worse) was that of an unattainable alpha claiming you.

“Shit,” you cursed, furiously wiping at your cheeks, “Shit shit shit shit!”

Someone’s shoes appeared in your field of vision.

It was none other than Boba.

A breeze rustled the trees and his scent filled your nose, sending a wave of calm through your body. Closing your eyes was involuntary but you did not mind because your body felt so much lighter now. It was like a weight had been lifted off your chest and you could breathe.

He smelled even better than before, the scent of pine wood and something you could not yet pinpoint driving you crazy. You could feel your temperature rising a few degrees and suddenly it all came rushing back to you. The frustration, the fear, the panic, the desire.

“You okay?” Boba asked, sounding very concerned.

You could not help the way your bottom lip trembled as you allowed yourself to admit that –

“No,” you breathed out, “I’m terrified, alpha.”

He sank down to his knees in front of you. Your eyes immediately fell to his crotch and you were ashamed to admit that the first thought you had was to reach out and undo his zipper, to try and see what he

Thick arms wrapped around you and pulled you out of your thoughts and into his chest. His body exuded warmth that yours had been missing and you relaxed into him. His hands were on the back of your neck and your lower back and his touch caused pure warmth in you. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, just like you had dreamt of, and breathed in his scent.

In a movement so small, you barely registered it, his nose brushed over your neck and you gasped softly.

“I know,” he said, his lips moving against your skin, “I know, princess, I can smell how scared you are.”

“What if I fuck it up?” you gasped into him, trying to hold the tears at bay. Your hands grasped at the back of his flannel, the fabric not feeling as repulsive as your own clothes, “What if – what if Chant can’t sleep because of me and we get attacked and he cannot defend himself and – and what if it is all my fault?”

A sob wrecked your body and you huddled closer to him.

For the longest moment, Boba did not say anything, merely holding you to him as you tried to gather yourself. Having him so close, with his hands on your body and your nose pressed against his neck, made it that much easier to calm down. You felt safe with him.

“You will sleep in my truck,” he stated, then, “I can bunk with Chants.”

“But – but –“

“Omega,” he interrupted you warmly and your mouth snapped shut, your brain short-circuiting at him calling you that, “You will have your heat, there is no question about it. You need rest and a safe place to nest and soft things. My truck has that and all the privacy you could desire.”

“Okay,” you nodded, swallowing back the tears that threatened to form in your eyes (again), “Thank you, alpha.”

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remembered that calling someone by their presentation was something intimate, something special. But it felt right, calling Boba that. Because if anyone was your alpha, it would be him. You could not imagine anyone else having the effect on you that he did. And you did not want anyone, except for him, to have that power.

His nose brushed over your scent gland again, this time right behind your ear, properly scenting you.

“Oh,” you whimpered, feeling a trickle of arousal gather in your panties. You clenched your thighs, he

Boba growled, his chest rumbling against yours, “Fuck, I’m sorry, omega, I shouldn’t have –“

He pulled away, ever so slightly, his hand cupping the side of your neck and the trickle became a wave when his rough fingertips brushed over the sensitive spot.

“No!” you protested quickly, a little too loudly, maybe, but you did not care if it meant you could have him scent you again, “Please … I – one more?”

The alpha in front of you froze and your eyes fluttered closed when his fingertips continued to caress your neck.

“You want me to scent you?” he asked and you were too far gone to notice if he sounded surprised. But what you did notice was how his thumb rubbed gentle circles onto your neck, how his eyes seemed a little darker in the light of the moon and how his scent seemed to get just a little bit stronger.

Shyly, you nodded, deciding to throw all caution into the wind. “Yes please, alpha.”

There was that rumble in his chest again, the one that made your pussy pulse and your thighs clench. But you could not even pretend not to be affected by his ministrations. Not when his nose, making your body break out in the best kind of shivers.

“That okay?” he asked against your neck and the fact that his lips were touching your skin now, the hint of his tongue peeking out again the patch of skin, made you almost feel blind with lust. “That feel good, princess?”

“Uh huh,” you brought out, tilting your head back so he had better access.

“Sweet little omega,” his lips grazed your ear before he moved his mouth back to where you needed it most, “Good little omega.”

His hand moved back to the back of your head, holding you against him and keeping you this and that way so he had the best angle to lavish your neck with attention. You allowed him to manoeuvre you as he needed, knowing instinctually that you would be rewarded in the best way.

And oh stars were you right about that.

“Smell so fucking good,” he grunted, his hips snapping against yours, “Bet you taste even better”.”

You did not know what made you come. His filthy words, the idea of his mouth, the feeling of his teeth on your skin, threatening to mark you or the outline of his hard cock against your flimsy sleep shorts, pressing right into your clit.

Maybe it was a combination of all of those things that had you stifling your moan against his neck and your vision going white. That had your pussy pulsing and clenching around nothing and your folds getting even wetter with your release.

You knew the first orgasm of a heat was the hardest to achieve. Which made it all the more surprising that it had been so easy with Boba. You were so stunned that you did not even have it in you to feel the slightest bit of shame at how needy you were. How you had just come undone in front of him like it was always meant to be.

“Good girl,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss behind your ear before gently untangling himself from you, “Feel better now?”

You nodded quietly, still reeling from what had happened but also feeling drunk on his pheromones.

“C’mon,” he murmured, his hands helping you stand up onto shaking legs, “Let’s get you into bed, sweet thing, wouldn’t want to keep you from your nest for too long.”

You could only hope that he would join you.