#the response and love it’s received has been crazy wow!

[kidovna]

YOUR LILIA ART IS INSANE!!! YOU'RE SO TALENTED!!!

thank you so much!!🥹💜

[hecksupremechips]

Mizuki and Date though like. Imagine being 8 and your parents are filthy rich and going through a bad divorce. Your mom treats you like shit, lashing out at you, hitting you, saying she wishes you were never born all because you were behaving like a child. Your dad is more comforting, but he doesn’t do anything to stop the abuse and he spends his time invested in a completely different family, a girl who you love and look up to but he loves her more than you and it fucking shows. Then your dads new friend, some fucking bachelor in his late 20s, is just like "wow you guys are the worst fucking parents ive ever seen" and next thing you know your dad is sending you off to live with him. And it’s just a massive kick in the head cuz you go from a rich lifestyle to living in some really shitty tiny ass apartment with this guy who’s clearly never been around a child in his entire life and he doesn’t know how to behave and does a really bad job of censoring himself like he has a bunch of dirty magazines that he can’t hide very well cuz it’s literally a studio apartment and also he talks to himself sometimes, it’s really weird. He doesn’t even have the slightest clue what he’s doing

And he’s the best parent you’ve ever had

Because fuck, it all really hurts. You have to cope with having never received any love from anyone, and with the fact that your parents clearly don’t want you and can’t even be bothered to send you with anyone even kinda responsible. And this guy has a scary job with crazy hours and you don’t know anything about him and neither does he. But still, he never once hits you or tells you you’re not allowed to cry. He just gives you space and doesn’t push you to feel any sort of way about him. And sometimes, he’s even kind. He makes you some stew, even though it’s a bit chunky. He lets you sleep in the bed and takes the couch for himself, even though he complains about the massive back pain he’d never trade his spot for a second. He pays attention to events at your school and gives you your favorite stuffed animal when you make good grades, even though you called it ugly. He gets worried sick when you come home with bruises and puts on a goofy voice and trains you to defend yourself and you develop some highly deadly skills and even though it’s really abnormal, he buys you a bench press so you can get stronger. There’s this distance there, and you feel really weird caring about someone who you aren’t related to, but you find yourself wishing it was meant to be like this all along, that maybe, he’s secretly your real dad and he loves you like his real daughter

And when you say "I’m back" he says "welcome home"

[raquellemonsta]

Wondering if I could request an enemies to lovers with tsuki x reader with a "who did this to you trope"? Happy ending please (⁠づ⁠￣⁠ ⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠づ

OBSESSED with this and I love tsukishima so i went for it. hope you like it!

' who did this to you?'/ enemies to lovers

tsukishima x reader (2.0k words)

warnings: blood, not for yamamoto stans

after the shaky bus ride to tokyo, you're ecstatic to finally touch the ground again. your slight bus sickness leaves you as you breathe in fresh air and try to tune out all of the rowdy boys currently surrounding you.

as a manager of the boys volleyball team, you've become used to the crazy boys at karasuno. you're so happy that you decided to join them, since all of the boys are very friendly to you and you'd even consider them your friends! all but one of the boys, that is.

"wow (y/n), you somehow only look a little bit more stupid when you're bus sick than when you aren't," said player taunts. tsukishima always has a smart (and usually rude) remark for or about you.

you're all too familiar with tsukishima, as the two of you are in the same class, 1-4. you moved to miyagi mere weeks before the school year started, so you went in not knowing anyone in your college prep class. you can still picture your first time seeing him, and then your first time interacting with him.

you had shown up to your first day of class on time, as you've always been a responsible student. only a few of your classmates are there when you show up, though one immediately catches your eye.

a blond boy with glasses sitting in the second row gathers your attention even though he's not looking at you. he has his headphones on waiting for the teacher to show up and for class to start. you have to admit, he's boyishly handsome and probably decently tall if his legs under the desk are anything to go off of. you take a seat next to him, but decide to not interrupt him once the teacher walks in. he makes your heart beat faster, and it's embarassing to admit that you have a little crush on the first guy you've come across.

at lunch break, once some of the students have gotten up and he's still sitting, you decide to try and strike up a conversation with him. you can feel the sweat on your palms as you move to stand in front of him, wringing your hands together.

"hey, what's y-" you barely manage.

"no thanks" he immediately cuts you off, not even sparing you a glance making you scoff in offense and annoyance. nevermind him being cute, apparently he's an ass.

"whatever, not like i wanted to talk to you or anything" you roll your eyes and head to the opposite side of the room, not realizing he'd looked up to watch you walk away and felt a strange feeling. in hindsight, he realized you clearly weren't just one of the girls that decides to ask him out weekly. from that moment though, you decide to keep your distance from him during class and only interact with him when you absolutely have to.

the memory makes you roll your eyes now, and you say the first thing that comes to your mind.

"you don't have to be such a jerk all of the time, you know that?" sometimes he really brings the worst out of you, as you're not normally a snappy person. that response keeps him quiet though, as he seemingly can't think of a retort for you. he gives you a strange look before walking into the gym before you even get there, headphones up and unwilling to listen to anyone. you feel slightly bad for him for a second before remembering he's always mean to you first, so you move on to your manager tasks.

the guys haven't started warming up yet, as some of the nekoma players are still setting up their net. after bringing the water bottle carriers and setting them down next to the bench, you attempt to find the clipboard you and kiyoko usually use to keep track of your players stats. you're in charge of marking number of serves/aces, digs, blocks, serve receives, kills, and assists. even though it's only your first year, you're a very diligent manager and are able to keep up with the boys' fast-paced plays.

for whatever reason, you see the clipboard thrown on the floor against the wall and near a nekoma ball cart. it's right next to the metal thing built into the floor to keep the gym wall divider in place, in case they ever need to split the gym in half (does this even make sense?). you head over to retrieve the clip board and are about to bend to get it when you're suddenly jolted forward from someone wildly flinging the volleyball cart.

you try to catch your fall with your hands, but unfortunately you scrape your knee against the metal portion of the divider. you look behind you to find who pushed you, and see nekoma's ace pulling the ball cart over to one side of the net, not paying you any mind. you look around to see if anyone's noticed, and you see a certain pair of golden brown eyes look around before finally falling on you. that's when you feel the heat from your knee, and finally sit down to see the damage.

"oh…" you sadly gaze down at your now ripped joggers. it hasn't even occurred to you that you've cut your knee open, and instead you begin to tear up at the fact that you've ruined your pants. it seems ridiculous to be upset about that and not your injury, but you really like these!

yamamoto didn't even stop to check on you, and it seems like now his focus is on kiyoko and tanaka as he warms up his serve. you attempt to hold back the waterworks in an attempt to not embarrass yourself, when the one person you'd never want to see you like this comes over to you. you're about to defend yourself, expecting him to tell you you look stupid or weak, but his reaction surprises you.

gazing down at you, his eye reaches your knee. he can clearly see the rip along with the reddish color beginning to soak into the fabric. the look on his face is a twist of shock and anger, and for a second you forget that you were just upset with him earlier and are more concerned with how scary his expression is. he looks like he could snap at any second and bite your head off.

"what happened?" he asks. "who the hell did this to you?" he bends down to come to your level, examining your wounded knee. you have to admit, you hadn't expected this reaction from tsukishima of all people, maybe from kiyoko or sugawara.

you glanced in yamamoto's direction when he asked the question, causing him to turn around and follow your stare. he's not really surprised but still feels annoyance and a more unknown emotion bubble up inside of him.

"it was an accident tsukki, he didn't mean it" you try and explain, but he's not having any of it. surprisingly, he doesn't comment on you using the nickname he hates, instead glaring at yamamoto with a look that could kill. entirely uncharacteristically, he walks over to yamamoto and grabs his jersey, causing the second year to whip around in surprise and confusion.

"i don't wanna see you near her again" he points back to you. you look away before you're able to make eye contact with yamamoto, though admittedly you probably look extremely pathetic right now: staring at the floor with your knees to your chest. you hear yamamoto jump to defend himself, claiming he doesn't even know you, but you figure tsukishima must've lost interest and walked away because he stops quickly.

"hey" the voice comes from above you. you already know who it is, but you look up anyways. there stands tsukishima kei in all of his glory, giving you an unreadable look and seemingly waiting for you to move. you're still slightly too shocked from this whole turn of events to get up off the floor on your own, though.

by now, your cut stings from the realization that it's there (you know how once you look at one it starts to hurt more?). you look back down at it to find it now soaking your pant leg. tsukishima picks you up, carefully placing an arm under your legs and his other behind your back. the change in vantage point makes you laugh quietly, and you imagine this must be what it feels like to be an even taller person.

he sets you down on karasuno's 'bench' and takes the first aid bag. grabbing an antibacterial wipe and bandage, his long fingers expertly open the package and wipe at your cut. it stings for a split second before you just feel a numbing buzz, and you look up to see him intensely focused on caring for you. there's no malice or annoyance in his face, and you can say it's honestly nice to see him at peace.

"maybe you aren't such a jerk after all" you joke, attempting to break the silence. he scoffs at you, coming back to reality.

"don't push it, i don't have to help you" he reminds, and you shut up before you lose this privilege. you've never really seen him like this before, truthfully. it's nice to have a handsome boy caring for you and concerned about you, especially one you thought despised you. now that you think about it, does this mean he doesn't actually hate you? no way he would go out of his way to do this if he actually did.

"i'm sorry i'm not good with feelings," he whispers to you. he's bad at opening up to people, something he's painfully aware of though other people don't usually realize he is. the reason he always has a rude remark for you is because it's the only way he thinks he can get you to talk and interact with him after accidentally being so cold to you that first day. the truth is, you're beautiful and it makes him nervous. crushing on you while also thinking you can't stand him has been eating away at him for months.

slowly, he rolls up your pant leg and begins to wrap around your knee. he cuts the bandage when he's done and makes sure you're okay before rolling the pant leg back down. you can't move your knee super well but that's to be expected.

"thank you kei" you softly speak. as a thank you, you give him a sweet kiss on the cheek. it's something he clearly wasn't expecting, as you catch the incredulous look on his face after you do so. he's really not such a cold guy, he just has a hard time communicating what he really feels. it's endearing when it's him, you think.

"tch, annoying" he rolls his eyes. you can't help but notice his pink cheeks and the way he's now avoiding eye contact with you. he's only pretending to hate it. in reality, he wants another kiss.

"be nice" you taunt him back. the huge, genuine smile on your face shows him you're only joking, and also makes him want to smile back. he covers his mouth before you can see the grin threatening to burst out onto his face.

"weirdo" he mutters at you before making his way out onto the court where the rest of the team is warming up. that one wasn't even clever.

all of a sudden, you hear someone yell 'head's up!'. before you can even react, a ball smashes into your forehead and you throw your face into your hands to avoid shouting. yamamoto looks even guiltier than before.

"seriously?!" tsukki yells, coming back over to you again and rubbing your back.

at this rate, tsukishima might end up killing yamamoto before the game even starts.

[genericpuff]

I'm curious - how many unanswered asks do you have in your inbox? Or do you just delete the ones you don't plan on answering?

do you feel good anon

do you feel good about yourself with this question

targeting me like that

geeeeez

ok but more seriously LMAO i have an embarrassingly large amount of unanswered asks but i do read all of them <3 a lot of them honestly are just from folks like, sharing their anonymous opinions about either LO and LR, with the odd one about comic advice, sharing webtoon recommendations, and other things of that nature!

In the case of the LO asks, it's stuff that often has already been spoken about at length before so I don't really have anything to add (but trust me, I'm usually in total agreement, if I heavily disagree with a take I'll usually try to respond to it but it's rare that that's the case because most of the takes are just things like "wow the art in this panel sucks" like yep it sure do LOL) and often it just feels like my inbox is just like, a comment box for people to get their feelings out anonymously and honestly that's fine, I just also can't really respond to every single one unfortunately, but I do read them and I love y'all's takes!

With LR asks, y'all are way too sweet to me and send me just the kindest things about LR, and I hope y'all know that even if I wind up not getting back to your ask about it, I do read everything you send and appreciate so much the amount of support you've all shown for this project since I took it on <3 A lot of those asks are literally my version of "do it for her" where I read them and it reminds me of why it's so worth doing what I do :') <3

Whenever people recommend me other works to read, I add them to a list and I am currently trying to tackle it :) (honestly that list isn't as big as you'd think, a lot of the recommendations are for the same stuff, like other Greek myth retelling comics or otherwise just bad webtoons that people want me to suffer thru LOL) I just recently finally got a physical copy of Song of Achilles and while it's slow going, I'm gonna be sharing my extended thoughts about it, either in a big Tumblr post or maybe a video if I can motivate myself to do it 🤔

And of course, the comic advice asks... these ones admittedly I do tend to actually move into my drafts because I really, REALLY do want to respond to them, but I'm also not someone to half-ass responses to questions like that. That is a bit of a bad habit on my end because it often means I'm spending crazy amounts of time going over topics that can be researched, but I also just really love talking about comics so it doesn't feel good to get a comic advice ask and just leave it at "idk just start" like yeah, do that, but also I want to pass on all the things I WISH I had known when I was first starting out and I'm glad people see me as someone to learn those things from! So when it comes to those asks, don't worry, I'm picking away at them <3 (but also man, I should probably just like... put together some kind of hitchhiker's guide to comic making or something huh LOL)

Anyways! I do have a lot of unanswered asks and honestly, I'm not really one to delete them, even if I don't get back to some of them it is still nice to read them in their own little curated space separate from my main blog, it's kind of like a personal comment section between myself and those of you who took the time to write <3 The only asks I tend to outright delete are ones that are just like, way too bad faith to even want to give any attention to, or bot spam lmao But for the majority of y'all who have sent genuine asks to my inbox and never saw a response and worry that I might have ignored it or deleted it, I hope you can have reassurance in knowing that they are all still there and even if I can't make time every day to respond to them, receiving all your personal takes about LO and your amazing feedback and kind words about LR is something I'm always excited to see whenever that little notification pops up in my Inbox tab. I see you and appreciate you <3

[440mxs-wife]

The Country Doctor, Chapter 3: The "Ex" Factor

Pairing: Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy x F!Reader (eventual). Other Characters are the usual suspects: Jim Kirk, Nyota Uhura (mentioned). OMC's Travis Myers and Miles Cooper.

Word Count: 4812

Warnings: Divorce, break-up, ruthless businessmen, mention of destruction of property, an encounter with an ex that doesn't end well, Leonard being supportive and comforting, Jim being his usual, charming, mischievous self

Summary: Fresh off of his divorce, Dr. McCoy receives word that he has inherited a 5,000-acre farm and home in Logan, Montana. Finally, he has an opportunity for a clean slate and to start his own clinic out west and leave his ex-wife behind. Along the way, he'll meet a cast of unique characters, each with a place in his new small-town life. But there could be trouble ahead in the form of a powerful CEO hell-bent on acquiring Leonard's property by any means necessary.

A/N: This idea was posted by @hailbop1701, with a specific list of plot points/dialog to be included. I won't put the list here, because it'll give away too much. Not sure how many parts there'll be, but I hope you like where I take the story.

A/N 2: If you’ve been tagged here, it’s because you’ve interacted one or more times on a McCoy story of mine, or we’re moots. Whether you like or reblog, I am eternally grateful for your support. If anyone else would like to be tagged on any future Karl Urban character postings, or would rather leave the Crazy Train, please let me know. Thank you, and enjoy the show!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Previously: "And just what in the hell are you doing here?"

"Wow, it's good to see you too," Travis grinned smugly.

"I wish I could say the feeling was mutual, but we both know that'd be a lie," you retorted. "So, I ask you again--what. are. you. doing. here?"

"Since you asked soooo nicely, I'm here to speak to Dr. McCoy, is he in?" Travis sneered.

"Not unless you're here to see him as a patient, and I already know you're not. Therefore, you need to leave," you snapped. "Door's behind you. I suggest you use it."

"Such hostility!" Travis gasped, feigning shock. "If this is the way Dr. McCoy runs his clinic, I can't imagine you have too many--" he smirked but was interrupted.

"'Too many' what?" Leonard interrupted. "Is there some sort of problem here?" he inquired, eyes narrowed, with his arms folded across his chest.

"Oh! Good afternoon, Dr. McCoy. Uh, no, no problem at all. My name is Travis Myers, and I believe we've spoken on the phone a few times, if you remember?" With no response, he continued. "Ah. Right. Well, unfortunately, on my last visit to your lovely estate, I wasn't given an adequate opportunity to discuss a pending business matter. I am here on behalf of NorthStar Corp--" he started to explain but was once again cut off.

"I know who you're working for, and I'll bet they told you to do anything and everything to get me to sell," Leonard replied, arms still crossed. Despite the gravity of the situation, you nearly drooled at the way his shirt stretched over his torso and how nicely his biceps were contained within the fabric.

"As a matter of fact, they did. Anyway, I'm sure you'll find that the terms of our latest offer are more than generous. I've been given quite a bit of leeway to negotiate on their behalf and close this deal, but--" Travis started.

"Look, Trevor, I'll save you and NorthStar Corp a whole heap o' trouble. I ain't interested in money. If I was, I wouldn't be accepting fresh peach cobbler and homemade ice cream as payment for services rendered. So, you can just go on back to Mr. Big Shot and tell him I ain't movin' out of my Uncle Walter's home. The people here are warm and friendly, and I like bein' their doctor," he declared with an air of finality. Then he threw you a small wink, causing a flash of heat in your cheeks.

The intentional name slip-up and your reaction to McCoy's last gesture to you did not go unnoticed by Travis. Interesting, he thought. He knew of Leonard's divorce, and that it's at least partially what brought him to town. But how did you fit into the picture? Were the two of you more than work colleagues?

Leonard was fairly new in town, and Travis learned that you had moved here shortly after the break-up. For some reason, seeing you interacting with the good doctor, standing by him, stirred some feelings of jealousy. You used to do that for him, accompany him to business dinners, hang on his arm and make him look good. Now that attention was saved for someone else and he didn't like it.

Travis pushed these thoughts to the side for the moment to focus on the matter at hand. "Very well, Doctor. I'll be sure to relay your message to Mr. Cooper. However, I must warn you that he is highly motivated to close this deal. As my most persistent client, he is accustomed to getting what he wants. Every time, and without exception. Think about our offer, won't you? Good evening to you both," he remarked confidently before he exited the clinic.

***

He returned to his car and drove back to his motel room to reflect on his encounter with you and Dr. McCoy. He realized this was going to be more difficult than he originally thought. He was going to have to pull out all the stops if he wanted to close this deal. He was ready to do whatever was necessary to get McCoy to sign to protect his interests and those of his client.

Mr. Cooper didn't tolerate failure in any form, and after the way the conversation in the clinic went, he needed to fix this and fast. If he didn't, the firm he worked for was likely to fire him because they couldn't afford to lose such a big client. No way was he going to allow you to interfere with his success because of the animosity in your shared past. He was willing to protect his social and economic status at all costs.

In the cupholder beside him, his phone rang. The caller ID showed it was Bradley, so he gave the approval to patch through a call from Mr. Cooper. "Good evening, sir, I was just about to call you and--" Travis started but his client interrupted.

"Never mind that, Myers, what do you have for me?" Cooper demanded.

He mentioned his earlier discussion with Dr. McCoy and his run-in with you at the clinic. "I explained that our offer was more than generous and that you were committed to the deal. However, he won't budge, said he's happy being a 'country doctor'," he sneered. "I made it clear that you were highly motivated and would prevail in this situation, but I don't think it had any effect."

Cooper was silent on the other line, which was uncomfortable for Travis. He was used to hearing this client's blustering on the other end with his commands and domineering attitude. The longer the silence stretched on, the more nervous Travis became.

Finally Cooper heaved a deep sigh. "I'm quite disappointed, Myers. I thought you would've closed the deal by now, but I see my faith in you has been misplaced. I'm a busy man, and can't afford to wait any longer. You're fired."

"'Fired', sir??" Travis exclaimed. "Mr. Cooper, with all due respect, I think I've got something to convince McCoy to sign, if I can just talk to him again. If I could get a little more t–"

"No. You had your chance to close a no-brainer deal with a simple country doctor, and you blew it. I'm sure I can find someone else to manage my account and get this deal done." With that, Mr. Cooper hung up, leaving Travis to stare at his now-blank phone screen.

Not long after, he received a call from his boss, also firing him from the firm for failing to meet his objective. Devastated and at a loss for what to do next, he phoned his fiancée for some comforting words. However, she had already heard about him being fired and that he was likely blacklisted from ever working as a financial advisor again. For those reasons, she was moving out of their shared apartment and broke off their engagement.

I've lost everything, he thought. My client, my job, and my fiancée, gone. All because a backwoods doctor wouldn't sign a stupid piece of paper. I would've been financially set for life and married to the woman of my dreams.

And it was all your fault, because of your grudge against him that convinced Dr. McCoy not to sign the agreement. Something in Travis' mind snapped, and he refused to let you take it all away from him. You were going to pay for what you did to him. Starting tonight.

***

As soon as Travis walked out of the clinic, you let out a shaky breath you didn't realize you were holding. You braced your trembling hands on the edge of your desk, as you bowed your head and focused on the files still arranged in a neat pile on the surface. With deep, even breaths, you tried to get your heart rate back under control and keep your knees from giving out from under you.

Noticing your distress, Leonard took a couple of steps towards you, his arm outstretched to gently lay a hand on your shoulder. "You all right, darlin'?" he asked.

Slowly you raised your head and when your eyes met his, you noticed they were full of concern and kindness. "Yeah, I'm all right. Thank you, Len," you replied wearily with a small smile. "Just wasn't expecting to see him here of all places. Word to the wise, he will not be going away anytime soon."

"It doesn't matter how many times he shows up, or what kind of offers NorthStar Corp decides to make. I'll tell him the same thing the next time he shows up, too," he affirmed. "Or anybody else for that matter."

"You sure are stubborn, Leonard," you chuckled.

"I prefer the term 'resolute'. No, really, I meant what I said. I like this town, and no amount of money is going to make me leave it." Or you, he silently added. He tilted your head up to meet his gaze. "Now, I think it's about time we close up shop and call it a day, hmm?"

The warmth reflected in his hazel eyes nearly made your heart skip a beat. "Umm....yeah, I-I think that sounds like a good idea, yes," you stammered. You stopped shuffling papers for a moment to look up at your boss as your thoughts returned to an earlier subject. "Actually, if you're not busy, I was wondering if maybe you'd want to come over to my place tonight, and I'd cook dinner for you."

Leonard stood with one hand in his pockets, the other resting on his chin in thought, his eyes tilted upward as he considered your invitation. It had been a while since he'd spent time at a woman's house, let alone received an offer from her to cook a meal for him. Jocelyn was not well-versed in the culinary arts, leading to a lot of take-out meals or dining out. Just as he was about to accept your offer, you interrupted his thoughts.

"You know something? I just realized it's kind of silly for you to drive all the way into town. Because then you'd have to drive all the way back home after dinner. I-It's okay if you'd rather not tonight, Dr. McCoy," you added.

"Whoa there, darlin', never said I didn't want to," he replied. "But you're givin' me a case of whiplash by first invitin' me to dinner, then you change your mind," he grinned. "Why d'you wanna cook for me anyway?"

"Well, I like to cook for others, and it sorta relaxes me. We had a busy day with patients today, and I'm sure you must be exhausted. Especially after that meeting with Travis," you grimaced. "And on a Friday night, I'll bet the last thing on your mind is making a meal for yourself. So, why not let someone cook for you?" you shrugged as you continued to clear your desk. You knew you were rambling, but you didn't know how to stop it. That is, unless a large sinkhole opened directly underneath you and put you out of your misery. 

Leonard grabbed your hands to still your movements and waited to speak until your eyes were on his. "You worked hard today, too, you know. Exactly like you always do," he remarked. "And then with Travis showing up, that was just the icing on the cake, am I right?"

You nodded at his assessment of your annoyance with your ex, so he continued. "How about this? If it means that much to you, then you're welcome to pick through my pantry, refrigerator, whatever I've got. You can use my pots and pans, and anything you put on a plate, I promise I will eat it." As soon as the offer was made, he frantically hoped Jim had recently done at least some grocery shopping. The last thing he needed was for you to open the fridge door, only to find a lonely jar of pickles and a few cans of beer.

The playful grin on his face was too much to resist, and you felt the corners of your mouth twitching upwards to match it. "Deal," you replied with a grin. "Can't wait to see what I've got to work with." You grabbed your jacket from the back of your chair and draped it over your arm, along with your purse. Leonard ushered you out in front of him, then he closed up the clinic for the day by turning off the lights and locking the doors.

***

Fortunately, luck was with Leonard. Around an hour later, you and Leonard were putting the finishing touches on a dinner of Chicken Alfredo with a tossed salad and garlic bread. While you prepared the main dish, you put Leonard in charge of chopping the vegetables for the salad. The garlic bread was a "team effort", with the two of you working together on it as you traded stories.

Leonard dug into his portion of the main dish, and when a groan of approval escaped his lips, a smile stretched across your face. You were pleased that your favorite dish was met with such appreciation, which was lacking in your previous relationship.

In the beginning, Travis let you handle the meal preparation and grocery shopping for the two of you. He didn't really care what you made, and generally ate it without complaint or comment. However, towards the end of your relationship, he became much more critical of your efforts. His criticism diminished the joy you once found in cooking, and he was always getting take-out food, which replaced your home-cooked meals.

"Wow, it smells absolutely fantastic in here!" exclaimed Jim as he wandered into the kitchen. He passed by the table where you and Leonard had paused your meal to focus your attention on him. "Whatcha got cookin'?" he asked, then added, "good lookin'," with a smirk and a waggle of his eyebrows.

His lame attempt at flirtation caused you to roll your eyes and stab a forkful of your salad. Meanwhile, Jim quickly helped himself to a plate of the food you prepared and took the chair next to Leonard at the table. He twirled the pasta around his fork and stuffed it into his mouth. The noises and words of praise dripping from him after one bite were music to your ears.

When you had finished, you gathered up your plate, salad bowl, and utensils to take them to the sink. "I'm sorry there is no dessert for this evening, but I promise to make it up to you next time," you called over your shoulder.

"Oh, that's all right, darlin'," Leonard answered as he finished his own portion and pushed himself away a bit from the table.

"Yeah, and I can't wait until the next time," Jim interjected, while fending off the death glare from Leonard. Jim tried to play the innocent card, his hand to his chest and mouthing the word, "what?" to his friend. He'd heard Leonard speak fondly of you on many an occasion. And if what he saw before joining you was anything to go by, you returned the sentiment.

Leonard rose from the table and picked up some of the dirty dishes to take to the kitchen. He gently placed them next to the sink. Before going back to the table for more, he paused, leaned one hip against the counter, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Now, just what do you think you're doing?" he wondered.

"I'm cleaning up after myself, what does it look like I'm doing?" you answered while the sink filled with hot, soapy water. "My mama would be disappointed in me if I made a mess in the kitchen and didn't clean it up."

"Really? Because my mama'd tan my hide if she found out a guest was doing dishes in my house," Leonard chuckled.

"I'm not going to leave you with a sink full of dirty dishes, Leonard," you affirmed. "C'mon, I'll wash and you can dry. The sooner we get done, the quicker we can move on to the next activity, like maybe a movie?" you suggested, hopefully. "Besides, I'm not a guest anymore, since I've been here more than twice," you declared with an air of finality.

A wry smile crept across Leonard's face, then he shook his head, knowing he wouldn't be able to dissuade you in your logic. "All right, all right, fine. And a movie sounds like a great idea," he acknowledged, then went back out to grab more dishes.

When he arrived at the table, Jim caught his arm. "Hey, what's this I hear about a movie?" he inquired eagerly. At Leonard's near-murderous glare, he held up his hands in surrender and chuckled. "I'm kidding, Bones. I promise, I'll leave you two alone." He waggled his eyebrows again, then took off at a run as his laughter echoed off the walls all the way to his room.

Leonard shook his head in resignation then entered the kitchen with the final batch of dishes to be washed. "So, what kind of movie did you want to watch?" he asked. As you worked, the two of you discussed your favorite films and why you loved them.

Slasher films were a solid "no" from both of you, mystery/thrillers were okay, but you were split on rom-coms and musicals. Action/adventure movies were acceptable, though Leonard was not fond of the ones set in space. "Too much can go wrong up there," he warned. "And something always goes wrong. When it does, the heroes inevitably choose the most completely unrealistic solution, which ends up somehow saving the day."

His sardonic observation about space films made you throw your head back and laugh. "Oh, Leonard, you're too funny," you remarked. "I think space is a wondrous place, full of adventure and so much of it waiting to be discovered."

"Yeah, well, you'll never get me up there. I'm perfectly fine with my feet firmly planted on good ol' Planet Earth," he snorted.

***

After a bit of back-and-forth, the two of you finally settled on a movie. Leonard sat at one end of the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. For you, it was a toss-up on where to sit. If you took up the other end of the couch, you appeared distant. If you chose the middle cushion, well, wasn't that a little too close for two....what were you, anyway? Friends? Co-workers? More?

Leonard noticed your hesitation on the seating arrangement. "You gonna sit down, darlin'? Can't start the movie till ya get settled," he pointed out.

"I know, but where should I sit? Wouldn't want to mess up anyone's favorite seat," you explained nervously.

He really didn't want you as far away as the other end, but he also didn't want you to feel forced to sit next to him. "You can sit wherever you'd like," he replied, then laid his palm on the middle cushion. "Although no one really sits here, so you can break it in and we'll call it your seat if you want," he grinned.

That was smooth, you thought, your eyes widening a little in surprise. Okay, we can play it like that, if you want. You sauntered over to where his hand was still resting on the cushion and waited until he caught your gaze. Without breaking eye contact, he withdrew his hand and watched as you settled into your seat. "Hmm, comfy," you hummed.

"Yeah....comfy," he murmured as he handed you a blanket. He reached for the remote and glanced over at you. "Ready?"

"Fire away," you replied as you draped the blanket across your lap.

The chosen movie was called Red, an action-spy-type movie. It was about a small group of retired, former assassins that the government seemed to want retired. Permanently. There was one character, a hotshot CIA agent named William Cooper, who was in charge of the operation. When he first appeared on screen, you leaned forward in your seat to get a better look. For some reason, he looked very familiar to you.

Leonard glanced over at you, wondering why you kept looking back and forth between him and the screen. "Uh, sweetheart, is everything okay?"

"That character, Agent Cooper?" you asked, pointing at the screen. "Does he look at all....familiar to you? Like....anyone you know?"

He looked again, watching as Cooper was running through the building, chasing one of the former assassins named Frank Moses. His eyes narrowed as he tried to find anything recognizable about the character. "I don't think so, nothing sticks out, why?"

You twisted your fingers nervously in your lap. "Well....I think he looks like you. I mean, at least a little bit anyway," you commented.

The two of you went back to watching the movie, and when Cooper appeared again, Leonard paused the screen. After a few moments, he restarted the film. "I don't see any resemblance," he muttered. You did your best to suppress the grin threatening to break free and decided to let it go for the moment so you could enjoy the rest of the story.

A few scenes later, the events of the day caught up to you, and you felt your eyes start to droop closed. When they did, you snapped them back open, but it took a little longer to do so with each passing moment. Your body was also losing the fight with gravity, as it kept leaning over until it connected with Leonard's arm. You nuzzled your head onto his shoulder, then sighed deeply in contentment. He chuckled softly and curled his arm around you while he continued to watch the movie.

As the credits rolled, Leonard noticed it was nearly midnight. He didn't want you to try to drive home when you were half-asleep, so there was only one other choice. He carefully moved off of the couch, then shifted your body until you were fully stretched out on the sofa. He cradled your head, slid a pillow under it, and covered you with the blanket you were using earlier.

Just before he left the room, you briefly opened your eyes. "Leonard? Is the movie over?" you mumbled, not yet fully awake, but you knew it had to be late. "I should get home," you murmured as you started to rise.

Leonard returned and knelt beside the couch, nudging you to lay down again. "Shh, it's okay, darlin'. Movie's over, you can go on back to sleep," he replied softly. He pulled the blanket up under your chin then smiled when you closed your eyes again.

After a few moments, he reached up and brushed the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered. On impulse he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, then stood up and walked to his room. As he turned away, he missed how your lips curved upwards at his sweet gesture.

***

The next morning, you were awakened by the smell of blueberry pancakes with sausages and freshly brewed coffee. You sat up and stretched, feeling more rested than you have for months. One last yawn and you were off to the bathroom to take care of the morning necessities.

When you arrived at the kitchen, Leonard was busy ladling some pancake batter onto a cast iron griddle. You stood in the entrance, observing his movements, which were fluid and precise. He didn't appear hurried, as if everything was perfectly on schedule. He reached out to his right for the tongs to rotate the sausage links. He finished just in time to turn over the pancakes and sprinkle some cheese on the scrambled eggs.

Leonard was suddenly aware of another presence in the kitchen. He grinned when he saw you leaning against the doorway. "Good morning! How'd you sleep?"

"Good morning to you! I slept well, probably better than I have for a while. Thank you for letting me stay," you answered softly. You pushed off the doorframe and sauntered over to the cabinet, in search of coffee mugs. "Breakfast smells wonderful. Good to know your cooking skills extend beyond chopping vegetables for salad," you teased.

"I've been known to flip a flapjack or two in my time, I'll have you know," he sassed in return. "Used to cook a lot of breakfasts for myself, my mom, and my sister before I got married. Even had it for dinner sometimes."

"I remember dinners like this in my family," you remarked. "Growing up, money was usually tight, so we'd have pancakes, or French toast. Sometimes, we'd even have fried egg sandwiches for the evening meal."

Just as the two of you sat down at the table with your plates, Jim wandered in, his eyes nearly popping out of his head at all the food. "Wow, this all looks great! You cookin' for us again, sweetheart?" he asked you.

Since your mouth was full with a bite of blueberry pancake, you shook your head and pointed your empty fork at Leonard. Jim's eyes went wide again at the revelation. "Bones?? You cooked??"

Leonard glared at Jim, who had started to fill a plate with pancakes, sausages, and scrambled eggs with cheese. "Of course I cooked, genius. Jocelyn was the one who didn't cook, remember? Besides, if you insist on insulting me, you don't get any of my fluffy blueberry pancakes," he retorted. "You can have cereal for breakfast."

Jim immediately raised his hands in surrender and apologized for his lack of faith in his friend's cooking ability. There was no way he wanted to miss out on anything from the mouthwatering spread his friend created. With his plate piled high, the topic of conversation turned to plans for the remainder of the day.

"Well, I'll help clean up, but after that, I need to head home and feed my cat, Mimzy. She's a gray tiger-striped tabby cat that I've had for about three years now," you mentioned. "So, I have to do that, plus I have some laundry that I've been putting off for far too long."

"Sounds like you're in for a fun day," Jim snorted.

On your way back to the table, you reached into your pocket to grab your ringing phone. You smiled when you saw that it was Nyota calling and cheerfully greeted her. However, your smile quickly dropped and a look of horror crossed your face. "WHAT?!? Oh my god, I'll be right there. No, I stayed the night at Leonard's, I'll explain later. Meet me at my place, or what's left of it, I guess." The call disconnected and you stumbled to a chair, your phone clattering on the table.

"Darlin'? Is everything okay? What was that about 'what's left of' your place?" Leonard gently prodded.

For a few moments, you were too stunned to speak, tears rolling down your face. "My....there was a fire last night at my apartment building," you murmured. "I won't know how much of my place is damaged until I get there."

"Is everyone okay? What about your cat?" Leonard asked, as he and Jim looked at each other in shock.

"Um....Mimzy's fine, one of the neighbors I gave a key to was able to get her out. Everyone else also got out safely. What am I going to do?" you whispered.

Leonard walked over to where you were sitting and knelt in front of you and rested his hand on your knee. Jim stood on your other side, his hand on your shoulder. Leonard caught your attention and gave you a look that he hoped was a comforting one. "Hey there, darlin'," he gently crooned, his thumb stroking your kneecap. "How about we gather your stuff and I'll take you into town, hmm? I'll drive your car and Jim can follow in my truck. That sound all right?"

The shock was slowly beginning to wear off, which allowed Leonard's words to sink in. "Yeah, that sounds okay. I'm not in the right headspace to be behind the wheel right now," you responded wearily, then you moved your hand to cover his. "Thank you, Len. Both for last night and right now." You rose from your chair and slid your cell phone into your pocket. "I'll get my stuff and be right back."

"Poor kid," Jim lamented as he shook his head.

"Yeah, you said it," Leonard agreed. The silver lining in this situation, if any could be found, was that your cat, Mimzy, was safe. He also thanked his lucky stars that you weren't home at the time of the fire. Since he didn't know how much damage was done, he was determined to be by your side to offer whatever support you needed.

"You know, she could just move in here. Temporarily, of course," Jim hastily added.

Leonard gave him a puzzled look and arched one eyebrow. "You'd be okay with that?" he wondered.

"Bones, it's your house, but think about it. We have a guest room available, she'd be close to work, and she's an amazing cook. How could this not be the perfect solution?" he asked.

Jim had made some excellent points, and it did seem like the ideal answer to the current situation. Except for the fact that Leonard was starting to find he had feelings for you. Ones that grew beyond a working relationship, past friendship and into something more. Having you under the same roof was going to present some unique challenges, but what else could he do?

"Okay, let's ask her."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags: @marvelouslytrekking @spacedancer1701 @anna-phora @hailbop1701  @writercole  @lassie-bird  @never--doubt  @phoenixisred  @wayward-dreamer  @erindiggory  @strangesgirls  @dumpsterhippie  @genevablog26  @lokis-deares  @medicatemedrmccoy  @rooweighton  @mamamercurymist  @d-doki-doki  @malmeansbad  @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @ghosttrekkie @noforkingclue @bellestalesoffiction @silversword7000 @maximumtacoshark @xspacedemonx @ilachoasgrem @madame-slayer

[yellowcabdriver]

pairing: aged up!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

wordcount: 1k

genre: (kind of domestic) fluff

a/n: im not a bnha fan, so the character might be a little ooc. this one is an old request that i didn’t have time to commit to. hope it turned out okay :>

he hates to admit that – teeth grinding and everything – but you got him wrapped around your finger.

bakugou makes a hmph sound at the thought as he shampoos his hair for the second time – like you told him to.

but it’s true, he loves you so much.

he doesn’t like to talk about it, about these overwhelming feelings when he sees you, when he holds you, when he talks to you.

he never once thought he would fall in love like this, crazy, stupid, desperate. on his knees for you, metaphorically and literally. but also how could he not fall in love with you?

you are smart, intelligent, with a hint of a know-it-all. but it’s never snarky, biting type of know-it-all. it’s gentle and fun and ready to share information with someone who’s willing to listen (oh, and bakugou would die to listen to you talk) because, well, you happen to really do know it all.

you are fun. not afraid to laugh at yourself. you would throw an occasional joke at him and he – everyone is shocked – dryly laughs. you are empathetic, kind-hearted, generous.

you are different from him in the best way possible. patient when he is not, impatient when he is patient. bakugou is older now, still a hothead, but he manages his emotions much better (others might disagree, but fuck them, right?) and he owes most of it to you because he subconsciously mimics you, learns from you how to be better. not that you think he’s bad.

you are similar to him in the best way possible. you tend to have very emotional response first and think it over later. you don’t like to talk about your feelings, though you are more open to that than bakugou. your anger is also like an outburst of burning fire. you tend to say things you don’t mean and then end up having regrets eating your insides alive. katsuki usually laughs at your sulking presence when you come to share your grievances with him all while marvelling at how many times he felt exactly the same way as you.

bakugou wants to be the best for you.

you mention something once, remotely, and bakugou makes a mental note of it. whatever food you like, katsuki just happens to make it and has enough to share. whatever show you watch bakugou also (binge)watched it and is reluctantly ready to discuss. hell, he got an undercut because you mentioned that it’s your favourite haircut on men. at first he regretted it a little but after you were gushing over him, with no hint of ridicule and completely serious complimenting the shape of his skull (never has he ever received this type of compliments but it’s you so he is gobbling it up) he found some ease.

at first, he thought it was just a crush. it’d been a while since he had one but after excruciating weeks of mulling over this he finally accepted the fact that he was not having a crush. he was falling in love. and for the first time ever it didn’t scare him.

the lack of fear though kind of terrified him. did he suddenly mature emotionally? ain’t no way.

but in the dissonance of it all, confused and lost and a little angry, as per usual, bakugou finally got the courage to confess to you.

he thought it would be awkward and would end up with something blowing up and catching fire. it fortunately didn’t. he was uncharacteristically calm when he said that he was in love with you, looking down at your astonished face. he bucked the odds and won because after a few seconds of silence you all blushing nodded and said wow well i think i love you too.

katsuki quickly dries himself and leaves the shower in dark blue pyjama pants hanging low on his hips. according to the familiar ritual he drags his feet back to the bedroom where someone on tv was crying rather dramatically.

he enters the room and sees you in your dark blue cotton pyjama pair, bare feet dangling from giant bed, eyes glued to the screen where characters of a korean drama were arguing. katsuki rolls his eyes.

“oi, i went to shower twenty minutes ago and these two are still fighting?”

he says these two as if he doesn’t already know the names of all characters of the show which you’ve been watching every evening for a few weeks now and which he has been watching with his peripheral vision while sitting in bed next to you.

“yeah, but now it’s a different fight,” you argue glancing at katsuki with a smile and returning to the screen. bakugou walks closer to you.

“let me guess, it’s about the fact that she didn’t tell him that she knew his brother.”

you look at katsuki amazed.

“exactly that, how did you guess?”

he kneels down on the carpet in front of you.

“it’s typical shit, you know.”

you laugh, attention now fully on katsuki.

“it’s not typical! you’ve been watching this, haven’t you?”

bakugou makes a hmph sound and plants a kiss on your right foot.

“no, i haven’t. it’s just predictable.”

you yelp and giggle trying to yank your foot away while katsuki takes your other foot and plants a kiss in the middle of your sole.

“ready to go to sleep?” he asks knowing the answer already. you nod.

“i’ll finish the episode tomorrow.”

it’s dark and the lights of the city that never sleeps are barely making their way through heavy drapes covering giant windows of your bedroom. katsuki is nestled in your embrace, warm and content.

“you smell so good,” you tease. katsuki hums not willing to admit that it’s your vanilla shower gel that he used but you already know that. bakugou just holds your body closer to his as he contemplates that he’s way too deep in his feelings for you. he can’t logically deny this, not after four years you’ve been together, not when he knows all the shows you watch, not when he smells like your shower gel, not when you’re wearing matching pyjamas that he bought.

katsuki hates to admit that out loud but you got him wrapped around your finger. and he’s okay with that.

[amaretigris]

All In

Taglist: @jonahmermaid23 @jonahhauer-kingg @luna2034 @hopeisrising @mylittlemermaid221 @notagreekgal28 @justagirlthatlovedtoread @daydreamerwithnohobbies @freyagallileaevans

This is a lovely request that I received. Enjoy!

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2.6k words | Pure fluff with smut suggestion

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Jonah strummed his fingers nervously on the leg of his navy trousers. He wore a coat to match on top of a white button up. It was formal, but not too formal, lest you suspect something. His eyes cut to the door every few seconds, but you weren't here yet. While waiting patiently, Jonah's mind started to spiral. Was this good enough?

This wasn't the restaurant where you had your first date, nor was it the theatre where you shared your first kiss. Jonah picked this place because this was where he realized that he was deeply and irrevocably in love with you. He knew that, and he thought it was special, but now he was questioning himself. Was it too soon? Would it be special enough for you? He paid good money for it to be, not that he was focused on finances. He just wanted you to remember this night for the rest of your life. Will it be memorable?

The sliding doors of The Ledbury opened, stopping Jonah's train of thought on its tracks. He stood from the bench, stepping to you as you entered. You looked as radiant as ever in a shapely red dress with matching lipstick. Jonah sighed in appreciation and extended his arms to you. He could never fully grasp your beauty- each time he saw you was just like the first.

"Good evening, love," he mumbled as he kissed your temple.

You giggled in response.

"So formal. Hi handsome. I've missed you," you looped your arms around his neck.

Jonah embraced you and took a deep inhale of the scent of your hair.

"I've missed you. It's only been three days since I left, but it feels longer."

You pulled back, placing your hands on his cheeks, and lifting your lips to Jonah's in a gentle kiss. You wiped your thumb across his mouth to get rid of the lipstick when you parted.

"I always have a countdown until the next time I see you," you smiled.

Jonah returned your smile, and grabbed your hand to lead you to the table. It was located in a private room in the back of the restaurant. You were somewhat accustomed to this because of Jonah's fame.

"How was work today?"

Jonah always makes sure to ask about your work because it's of equal importance in his eyes.

"It was good," you answered. "Nothing too crazy usually happens when I work from home."

Jonah held out your chair for you, lifting his brow.

"You didn't go into the office today?"

"No," you shook your head as you took your seat, and Jonah scooted it up to the table.

"I was too giddy for our date to go in. I would've been distracted all day."

Jonah saw you scrunch your nose as he sat across from you. The sight always made him happy, considering you only made that gesture when you found something amusing. You picked up your menu, reaching your hand across the table to hold his. There were rose petals on the tabletop, which you seem to have just noticed.

"Aww, how beautiful. I wonder why they dolled the place up," you smiled as you put down your menu to pick up a petal.

Jonah smiled nervously as your waiter for the evening came to the table with your favorite wine.

"Good evening, miss," the man bowed his head slightly to you.

You looked at Jonah in shock.

"Oh wow, my favorite wine. Everything is so fancy," you happily took a sip once he was done pouring your glass.

"Your entire meal has already been ordered. Enjoy madam," the waiter bowed again and left the table.

You eyed Jonah suspiciously.

"You already ordered everything?"

"Yes, I remember what you like here, dear. Not to mention it saves us time ordering and the waiter won't have to come back to interrupt us as much. I'm afraid I want you all to myself this evening," Jonah picked your hand up off the table to kiss it.

You practically melted. This is one of the many things that you love about Jonah: he remembers the small details about you.

"You're too good to me," you smiled at him.

"Hush now," Jonah quickly replied.

He hates when you say that. He wished he could banish that idea from your mind completely. He doesn't comprehend how you could ever think that something that ridiculous might be true.

"Tell me about the rest of your week. You're seeing Vanessa tomorrow, aren't you?"

"Yes," you smiled excitedly.

You were listing off the places you planned to go with your best friend when the appetizer arrived to the table. You chatted with him a little after the food arrived, but mostly sighed contentedly as you ate. Your entrees came out soon after, and your mouth watered at the plate of seafood before you. Digging into your meal, you listened to Jonah talk about his latest project.

Jonah is hands down your biggest inspiration. He has the guts to follow his dreams, and he gives you the courage to pursue yours, too.

"The cast and crew have been amazing," he gushed.

"I'm so happy for you," you reached across to squeeze his hand.

"I know that you've been excited to start filming."

Jonah squeezed your hand in return, fixing you with a killer smile paired with those damn dimples. You felt your cheeks warming. Even after two years, this man could still give you butterflies.

The two of you finished your entrees and prepared for dessert. The waiter came by to refresh your wine glasses. You opened your mouth to joke about wanting the whole bottle when a flash of movement out of the corner of your eye made you turn your head. You observed several staff members filing in on either side of the table with beautiful bouquets of an assortment of flowers. Your breath caught in your throat.

Looking back to Jonah's baby blues with a puzzled expression, the sound a cart being rolled in caught your attention next. You turned to look, met with the sight of a beautiful cake with flowers and candles surrounding it. Your waiter wheeled the cart up to your table. In a flash, Jonah was at your side. You hadn't even seen him leave his chair.

He looked at you intensely before dropping down to one knee. You gasped, bringing your hand up to cover your agape mouth. Jonah fished a ring box from his pocket, and licked his lips nervously as he opened it. Your breath left your body, and he shakily grabbed your hand in his.

"(Y/N), my love, this may seem sudden, but I've been thinking about it since the day I met you. This place isn't where I asked you out, or even where we shared our first kiss, but it is where everything clicked into place for me. It's where I realized that I'm completely in love with you, and suddenly everything made sense again, like it was always meant to be."

You nodded your head and whimpered with watery eyes.

"I don't know that I would describe my fame as a benefit to marrying me, but I do know that we can handle whatever life throws our way together. I know that you're the only person I want to talk to at the end of the day, and the only one I want to spend the rest of my life with," he paused to take a deep breath.

"Will you marry me, (Y/N), and make me the happiest man on Earth?"

You nodded, tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Yes, yes. Of course I'll marry you," you choked out.

Jonah smiled, taking a steadying breath. He grabbed the ring out of the box to slide on your finger. You lunged forward to throw your arms around his neck as soon as he was done, and Jonah had to brace himself not to fall back on the floor. He giggled until you planted a big, sloppy kiss on his lips. You then peppered his chin and neck with smaller pecks.

"Careful," he whispered in your ear in warning.

"Now that you're mine, we might have to leave before we even get to eat this delicious cake that I brought from your favorite bakery."

Your eyes met his with a challenge.

"I've always been yours. And we can take it to go," your gaze dropped to his lips.

"Trent," Jonah called over his shoulder for the waiter.

"Sir?"

"Could you please pack this cake back in its box?"

"Right away, sir."

You heard the wheels of the cart returning to the kitchen.

"I've decided I'm going to devour my fiancée tonight instead," Jonah spoke lowly.

You quirked your brow.

"Is that a promise? I'm all in."

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Four months later, you had already found the perfect dress, but not the perfect venue. You spent all of your free time researching and calling places to ask about deposits. Most of the venues you were interested in, however, had a huge wait list stretching up to two years. You didn't want to wait that long to marry Jonah. You couldn't be one of those women who was engaged for three to five years; you didn't have the patience for it.

Feeling particularly defeated this evening after yet another venue told you that their wait list was up to 19 months, you decided to lay down for a nap. You tried to call Jonah to vent your frustrations, but the phone rang and went to voicemail, and you sighed as you hung up. You know he's working but it didn't hurt to try. You sent him a quick text asking him to call you when he had a chance, and then you slid your arms under your pillow to sleep.

The vibration from your phone woke you. You felt around for your phone, tapping the screen to answer and holding it up to your ear.

"Hello?" You sleepily mumbled.

"(Y/N), damn love. I was almost worried sick. You weren't answering your phone."

"Oh, you called more than once?" You yawned.

"Yes, three times. Is everything okay, baby?"

You smiled at the pet name.

"Of course, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you. I took a nap. I've been feeling stressed about finding a venue that we both really like. I called several places today that told me their waitlists are all over a year. I don't want to wait that long," you sighed.

"Then we shouldn't wait that long," Jonah answered instantly.

You scrunched your brow.

"What do you mean?"

Jonah chuckled on the line.

"I mean that I've never needed some fancy wedding to marry you. All I need is you. And preferably a licensed officiant."

You felt yourself blushing even though you couldn't see Jonah's face.

"You mean we could elope?"

"We can do whatever we want," he replied. "It doesn't have to go a certain way. Whatever makes you happy, love. So yes, we can elope if that's what you want. It would remove the stress of finding a formal venue."

You hummed, weighing your options.

"Do you remember the White Cliffs of Dover, where we went on our first hike together? We could have it there. We could only invite our parents, because I'm pretty sure that if my mum misses it she'll never forgive me. That way your parents will be there, too."

You could picture it in your mind, and you sighed dreamily.

"That would be beautiful. How do you always know what will make me happy even if I don't?"

Jonah let out another soft laugh.

"Years of practice, sweetheart."

You put your hand to your chest out of habit. Sometimes your heart felt like it would explode with all of the love it held for this man.

"I know you already have your dress. Will it be okay for this, or do you want to look for another?"

You scoffed.

"The dress I have will be perfect. It's the most beautiful gown I've ever worn, and probably the most expensive thing I'll ever own. Thank you, baby," you gushed.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," you smiled, fidgeting with your fingers.

"Well, soon you'll be stuck with me," Jonah teased. "No backing out after that."

"Never," you answered. "I'm all in."

₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡₊˚⊹♡

The morning of your wedding went by in a blur. You felt as if you were living a dream- a really, really good dream. You were giddy all morning, and you enjoyed your time with your mother as you got ready. The gravity of the situation truly sunk in when you squeezed into your dress. Turning around in the mirror, your reflection became blurry from all the unshed tears. Your mother fanned your face.

"Don't cry, dear. Your makeup will run."

She grabbed your hand and squeezed it in hers.

"You look so beautiful, darling. He's the luckiest man in the world."

You hugged her tight to your chest and squeezed your eyes shut.

"Thank you. I love you," you whispered.

The walk to the altar was the longest of your life. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest, but you just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. When you stepped up to your place and your father took your arm, you finally allowed yourself to look up at Jonah. Your breath hitched, and your eyes fluttered.

You'd never seen a more beautiful man. Dressed in his tuxedo, Jonah was the picture perfect Hollywood star. Yet here he was waiting to marry you. You could hardly believe that this was your reality. Walking to Jonah with your father, you kissed him on the cheek before he gave Jonah your hand. When you made eye contact with Jonah again, he held back tears. Your eyes welled up at the sight.

"Don't worry, they're tears of joy," Jonah joked. "So much joy."

You sucked in a breath, listening as the minister went through the ceremony. The time came for Jonah's vows, and he took a deep breath.

"(Y/N), your name is imprinted on my heart and soul. I promise to share your joys, and your tears. I promise to hold you up high, and anchor you when you're low. I promise that from this moment on, every beat, every breath, and every word is for you. I'm lost without you, and so, I'm all in."

You let out a small gasp at the familiar phrase, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. A couple tears spilled onto your cheeks, but were quickly caught by Jonah's thumb. You centered your breath, focusing on your vow. You spoke when you finally could, but your voice still shook.

"Jonah, I promise to love you in the sunshine, and in the rain. I promise to love you through all of your seasons. I vow to always hold your hand and call it home. And come what may, I promise that you will always be my one true love. I'm all in."

A single tear rolled down Jonah's cheek. You wiped it away, and had to refrain from giving him a comforting kiss.

"Alright, you may exchange the rings," the officiant chimed.

Sliding the gold wedding band onto Jonah's finger, you found that your hands were shaking. You bit your lip, your eyes lifting back to Jonah's that were already fixed on you.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Jonah's arm encircled your waist, and he pressed his lips to yours passionately. The kiss didn't last long, but it held more emotion than you could swallow. Jonah then pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. You closed yours, too. This is where you want to stay, always and forever.

[seekerwingzcg]

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 #16: 𝕊𝕡𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡 (𝕋𝔽 𝕆𝕟𝕖 𝔼𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕒/𝕆𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕦𝕤)

Just Elita admiring the spike of a Prime.

In the start of the war, life was complicated. Elita, Bumblebee, and Optimus we're still trying to figure everything out.

One day, Elita headed to Optimus’ apartment. Optimus seemed to find a place to stay far faster than a lot of the miners in Iacon once they received their cogs.

She knocked on his door and he answered almost immediately, the door opening to her, “Ah, hello Elita. Come in.” He motioned her inside and she smirked, walking in.

She looked around, seeing that the place was a bit empty and yet still pretty nice, “Wow, your place is nice. I'm still looking for a place to stay. I'm still sleeping in the old barracks.”

Optimus’ optic ridges furrowed and he looked down at her, “Really?” He rubbed the back of his helm and shut the door behind him, moving to a couch in the middle of the room. He sat down and pat it, looking into her optics.

“Yeah, I guess I just don't know where I belong, yet.” She sat down beside him and felt his servo on her shoulder.

“I have an idea. Why don't you stay with me? Without Dee around, I'm feeling lonely. You are the closest friend I have left other than Bee. He already has a place to stay here in Iacon.” Optimus sighed and kept looking at her. His expression gave off a sad aura and lacked their brilliant blue glow.

“You are lonely, aren't you…?” She moved her servo up to his and held it. “I was at a loss of words when we lost Dee. I can't believe he did what he did and-” Elita felt him grip her servo in response.

“He was afraid. He was hurt and I can't allow him to do what Sentinel did. He is confused and misled. If only I had been easier on him. I could have stopped him. I was so blind. He needed me and still needs me. He'll never be the same again.”

Elita's servo went to his face and she moved closer, “Shh, no one knew. C'mon, Optimus, he's crazy. Focus on the future, not the past. You've still got Bee and I.”

Deep in emotions, Optimus moved closer to her and gently pressed his lips to hers. He blushed and moved away quickly, covering his mouth.

Elita's optics widened and she moved both servos to his face, deepening the kiss after continuing.

Before they knew it, Elita pulled him down onto her, wrapping her legs around his waist. “Since that day, I knew we were connected. I can't seem to get you out of my mind and… I would love to live with you, and oh so much more.”

Optimus caressed her and straddled her hips before their crotch panels touched. They both opened their optics and looked down. Elita bit into the kiss and smiled, “Do you want to try out your new body, Optimus Prime?”

Optimus blushed and bit his lip before opening his panel, allowing his spike out for the first time since he had received his upgrades.

He gasped, noticing that it was so large that it was laying on her torso, the tip touching her.

“Ooh, wow. Sweet Primus, look at you.” She slid down and held it in both servos, “Let me look at it for a bit. It is gorgeous.” She slid her digits from the shaft up to its tip, taking in how it twitched.

It was ridged and studded, bright blue bio lights trailing up to a notch in its tip which was red and rougher than the slick textures of it's shaft.

Optimus watched her stare it down and simply enjoyed the gentle touches and gasps until he felt her tongue trail up from mid shaft to the slit. It ripped a shaky moan from his lips.

“I never thought I would be making love to a Prime's spike. It's the most beautiful spike I have ever seen-” she gave it another long lick before taking the tip in her mouth, causing him to begin moaning.

“Ooh, Elita, that feels so good!” His hips thrusted up and she took it halfway in her mouth, making sure to be able to give it proper stimulation, licking at it with the back of her tongue before pulling off a bit.

“Optimus, you are so big. Such a perfect size. I can't wait to make you overload. I want to see it happen, too.” Elita took it back in her mouth, stimulating the tip again, making sure to tug it as she allowed his hips to move against her helm.

Optimus moaned and shut his optics. He wasn't used to this type of pleasure. He never took the time to interface or self-service, but that made it a thousand times better. “Oh, Elita, I'm not used to this. I'm not going to last very long. You are treating my spike so well.”

Elita let go and looked up at him, “It's okay. I don't want you to wait. Overload when you feel it. I just want to see it when it does.”

Optimus moaned with a nod. He felt her begin sucking again, his hilt being traced with her digit as she held it and gave it a squeeze. It had felt so good that he could feel the tingle of his overload beginning to build.

With time, Elita began touching her panel, her valve opening as she played with her exterior node, still sucking and squeezing Prime's spike.

Her digits deepened and slid into her valve, pleasuring herself simply to the thought of his gorgeous spike.

Prime started to twitch and pant as his spike hardened even more, “Elita, I am about to overload!” His hips jerked and she lapped at his tip, still enveloping it and as she overloaded, he did the same into her mouth.

Her valve pulsed over her digits as she let his spike slide from her mouth and stripe her chest. She watched it pulse and shoot the last bits of fluid onto her.

Optimus looked down and she had removed her digits from her valve and used it to wipe it off of her, licking some of it from her fingers. She kissed his spike and looked him in the optics, “Aah, Optimus, you are beautiful.”

Prime leaned back and pet her helm, “You are too…”

[agnesthecartoonfreak]

Let me take care of you

Chapter 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/agnesthecartoonfreak/738315553682391040/let-me-take-care-of-you

Chap 2:

Sick

⚠️Age gap, smut, dilf, powerplay⚠️

You were warned

(Also be kind. English is my second language. Next charapter I'll add my ilustrations to it :)

To add to Price's misery... he woke up feeling like shit

Congested nose, headache, feeling horribly weak and very cold. He never felt cold, never ever.

You wake up bringing him breakfast. You happily say

"Mornin Captain"

He coughs in response

"Mornin' love" he says with a weak smile

Your smile drops as you get in full nurse mode. Pulling out a thermometer and checking your temperature

"John? What's wrong? What are you feeling?"

His heart flutters at his name leaving your sweet lips. He explains his symptoms to you. You sit next to him in bed. You are caressing his chest while she gives you meds

Too soft...He can't stop himself from thinking that she would be amazing at handjobs

She pulls out the thermometer.

38° degrees celcius

Feverish

"Sorry captain. You are feverish"

He sighs looking extremely annoyed. You notice.

"What's that look on your face?"

You caress his hair a bit worried about his reaction. You were always too touchy for your own good. But for a touch starved man like price it was almost a siren's call

With needy eyes. He responds

"I hate being useless. Not moving, not working out, can't command troops. And today I'm also sick so I'm extra useless"

Your hand moves to his cheek. He leans in on your face as if he was asking to cuddle you

"Never say something like that again. You are Captain John Price. You are a living legend. We are lucky to work with you at 141. Even super heros have sick days"

The tought of her boosting your ego like this makes him blush. Also makes him a bit cocky. He thinks to himself if she has a crush on him. 'A sweet girl in her mid twenties crushing on a old bloke like you' he thinks. God he feels handsome

"C'mon luv. I'm just an old captain, my glory days are behind me" he says chuckling

" Should I remind that you overthrew a dictator 2 weeks ago?"

It's been 2 weeks since you guys met wow

"And now I'm stuck in bed" he responds

"Would you say I'm useless if I got sick?"

He thinks about it. Of course not, he would pamper you till you get better. Cook you those italian meals you love so much. He would cuddle you while watching netflix and when you were desperate for more attention he would cuddle fuck you while kissing your beautiful neck. Hearing you say how good he takes care of you. Giving your nipples slight pinches till you cry calling him daddy. He would breed you so your primal need for being filled would get satisfied

"John?" You bring him back to reality

Fuck not again

"Of course not. I would take care of you" he says without thinking, he blushes

You giggle.

"You are not a nurse" you laugh about his instant response

"It doesn't matter. I still care about you"

I slight blush cross your cheeks

"You are too sweet captain"

Oh dear... Maybe he should ask her to stop calling him by his rank... But it feels so sexy to him...

His mind wonders again. Would you like to receive orders in bed too? Calling him by his rank while begging him for his cum deep inside you? Would you let him punish you by bending you over his lap? Fingering and spanking your ass till you beg yo be fucked?

What a sight...

"Well... Is there anything I can do to mame you feel better?" Your voice brings him back from his daydreams

There is simply too much my love...

"Could you stay in the room with me? It's getting a bit lonely" You can see that the incident took a toll on his self esteem. He feels unwanted, even useless which is crazy to you

You lay down next to him and turns to face him

You two spend 1 minute in silence looking at each other.

She knows.... He thinks

How much he wants to devour her

"What is your favorite type of movie captain?"

He thinks how much he would love recording himself fucking you

"Action" he answers

"Predictable" you respond

Hmmm he loves brats

"What about you smart ass?"

"Thriller" she answers

Kinky

Does she also likes masked man?

"I would go for a thriller right now actually"

You go grab your controller on the edge of the bed. Giving him a perfect glimpse of your ass

Oh god...

She lays on his good shoulder and by instinct he wraps his good arm around her waist. There is something going on. Something unspoken.

Maybe Price is not the disgusting old man he thinks he is

A bit into the movie you go in the front door of his house receive the pizza you secretly ordered. He never let's you pay for anything

You show him the pizza. There is a huge smile across his lips

"You shouldn't..." still smiling

Than his smile drops. The pizza was big, big enough for both of them. One of those giant pizzas

"Y/N... how much was it?"

You giggle

"It was for free." You joke

"No I'm paying you back"

"I won't take your money" you say with a smug smile

"You are not gonna pay for anything anymore when I'm around doll" he responds

A wave of heat washes over your body. Why does it sound so hot when he says it like that?

"I-It's no big deal Jonh" you stutter

He can smell your excitement

"Doll... Your company is a blessing already. The least I can do is pamper you. Please let me pamper you..." The last sentence leaves johns mouth by accident.

Both of you are a bit to close

You hear the front door swing open

"Dad? Where are you for god's sake"

Oh fuck... One thing that jonh can't deny is that his daughter has the same narcisistic tendencies as his ex wife. Her visits can be intense

Y/N leaves the room to greet her politely.

"Hi Monica! How are you?"

"I don't have the time to talk to the nurse right now. DAD!" She screams

"Hey have some respect... I taught you better than this" Price says defensive

She rolls her eyes. Could you tell your nurse to go for a walk so we can talk alone?

It was cold

Y/N will never deny her patients privacy even if it is detrimental to her health

"I'll be back in an hour than"

You grab your coat

"Hey" Price calls you

You turn around

"Be safe. It's night time and it's freezing out there" he says with worry in his eyes

"I can take care of myself sir" you say gently leaving the house

Monica looks at Price with a death stare

"You fucking the nurse?"

Here we go again

"No. Monica have some fucking respect"

God you wanted to go back to your perfect moment

To be continued...?

(A/N: I am inspired in the last couple of days :3. Please leave comments if you can. I like feedback)

[therealvikingstrash]

To the anon who needed to distinguish themselves from the previous one and decided to be nasty with having no background information whatsoever:

Did I hit a nerve on your own shortcomings in fandom? Boo- fucking- hoo. I'm not sorry.

The way I talk to people depends on how people talk to me. How they treat me. If someone assumes I'm a slotmachine for fic and gifs, I will treat them accordingly. Also, you didn't see the other anons, which influenced my tone.

If someone is nice, I'm nice. (You can check it out in my #vtrash answers tag btw, I'm not lying)

With me, you always receive the energy that you sent out. And this one was wack. Three anon asks within a couple minutes of each other and the tone was absolutely NOT okay. It also sounded like this person wanted to start some discourse and I'm not here for that bs.

Let me ask you this: if someone hits their dog over and over and over and one day the dog snaps, who's at fault? The dog for snapping or the owner for abusing it repeatedly? In this equation I'm the dog and I moderately snapped. I didn't even bite, but you make ME responsible? Weird way to out yourself as not being able to understand action and reaction.

Look, the really disgusting person is you, because you think telling someone the truth and giving them a reality check is being mean. Also, did you forget this new feature tumblr has where they can trace back who sent the anon? Not your smartest move.

Either way, I think social media warped your mind and you assume people aren't allowed to be people anymore- aren't allowed to express their emotions. We can't be upset by upsetting things, we can't be mad or angry when people make us angry, can't be sad, cuz god forbid you show any signs of feeling down, then you're crazy and toxic.

No, no, we all have to be these perfect little hollow dolls who never say "fuck" and always stay polite, even when other people are nasty. Upholding a MASK that isn't your true self at all costs. Kinda fucked up and dishonest, if you ask me. Screw you, I don't want to be like that. I've always been kind and quick to give out advice when needed, or words of encouragement to literally everyone who crossed paths with me, but was stabbed in the back multiple times. And for what? Fuck if I know. Was it jealousy all along or were those people just downright evil? I don't fucking know.

But I won't ever be that way. I'm a truthful person and I will always tell people what they need to hear and not what they want to hear. I'm not a fucking coward who hides behind anon.

This anon needed to know that they should put some fucking effort in fandom in order to have people create more 🤷🏼‍♀️ in this specific case me, but it goes for every other author and artist who's made to feel like an art and fic-slotmachine.

And yeah, I am of the opinion that the Vikings fandom specifically could do with more people reading, commenting, reblogging, sharing creations in order to NOT die.

Wow, what a bad, bad person I am for having such thoughts and saying out loud what basically every creator already knows. How cruel to hold people accountable for their refusal to take part in a fandom they claim to love. It's a fucking team effort to keep a fandom alive, in case you didn't notice, you dunce.

But funnily enough, for the longest time the only people on this team who actively tried to keep the fandom flowing with creations are all the same:

@vikingsbigbang - that's me and @tlkvikings (that was public knowledge btw)

@vikings-archive - surprise, surprise: me

@vikingsevents - also @tlkvikings and I

And of course the Vikings Server on discord that I created and am modding with @tlkvikings as well, to somehow get a cohesive community going.

Why did we never brag about it, you might ask? Why did we never advertise it? Put our name to it for credit? Because we just wanted to get this fandom going without any prejudice. To keep it engaged and running. We didn't want people thanking us specifically. We were happy when people engaged and showered one another with love at events we just gave them the opportunity for. We basically created opportunities for everyone, that's all. And we didn't ask for anything in return. Even after the very same fandom demonized and hated us. Yeah, that sounds like I'm a horrible, awful person, you're right.

But it's so much work, with nothing in return. The occasional "thank you" if we're lucky, but that's it. If only more people would at least engage in those opportunities to create and share, that would be enough, but even those rates have been going down. No one even THINKS of who runs these blogs (like they aren't run by people who can get exhaused, overwhelmed and discouraged) and how much work it is to keep up.

OF COURSE my own blog isn't posting new stuff all the time. Like, wtf do you think I am? A fucking god? Fuck no. I'm not online all the time, I have a life too, you know. It should be obvious that someone who has done so much for the community will get frustrated when people only ever ask for more.

We're basically the backbone of this fandom and in return not so long ago a group of people ran a smear campaign against us (slid into peoples dms and told lies about us, sent disgusting anons, made call-out posts full of lies, tried to doxx another friend of ours FOR OVER A YEAR and I'm still here) while the whole fandom watched and didn't help at all, our art gets stolen, our works ignored and THEN people ask FOR MORE?! And you think it's not an appropriate reaction to give someone a moderate fucking reality check? Be for FUCKING real, you cunt.

I can assume you're in the vikings fandom too, since you said you saw the post due to the tag, so I'm hoping you will see this as well and feel ashamed of yourself for not even using your brain for a fucking second.

[romaine2424]

Daily Blog July 12, 2023

Wish I could wrap up so many of you and bring you to Seattle this weekend. My sis' town in NoCal is supposed to be 112F (44.4C) degrees and my son's town in SoCal 105F (40.5). Not even getting into my cousins in Las Vegas where it's going to push 117F (47.2C). And yes the south has been suffering for weeks on end. Crazy! I lived in an old brick apt in Chicago a long time ago that didn't have A/C. Its where I learned about soaking in a cool bath and then laying on the bed with a fan on to dry off. Rinse and repeat. Be safe!

What I'm reading:

So last time I mentioned I would be reading Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrims0n (AO3). I'm on chapter 17! However, I quickly realized, I've read it before. It must have been two years ago, I think. Definitely worth a second read. Draco joins the trio on the Horcrux hunt. It's always fun for me when an author is talented enough to manipulate canon with inserts of another character into the scenes and it works! Alizarincrims0n certainly has that talent!

I also read the posting for today's @drarrydisabilityfest, Like Father, Like Son (5.6K) by @ladderofyears. Summary: During Scorpius's autism diagnosis, Harry begins to understand that he might be autistic too.

My thoughts:

I'm always amazed when so much can be packed into a short fic. I adored this slice of life story with Harry and Draco sitting in Madam Rosemary's office with Scorpius off playing in the corner, while getting told his diagnosis. Little bells start going off as the Healer speaks. Draco is lovely as the parent who dives into all research available, which is mainly Muggle. And his reflection back on his family is a Wow! Harry is sitting there in denial because Scorpius is perfect...which he is. @ladderofyears presents the diagnosis and how it was made with examples so beautifully. Never preachy. And last thing I'll say is I just loved the name of Scorpius' preschool: Green Toadstool Nursery. Definitely a Rec!

Like Father, Like Son on AO3

Interesting Tumblr Posts:

So during the AO3 DDOS problem, @lee-bella posted Non AO3 HP Masterlists. Wow! what a treasure load. The fests were hosted on Dreamwidth and/or LiveJournal. What attracted my attention immediately was down at the end were two older Masterlist directories on Livejournal. What was exciting for me was that these were the original postings with comments on these fics. So many have been re-posted on AO3 at a later time, but the originals capture the excitement of the fests. If you dig around, you'll notice that commenting while usually very high, can also contain concrit. I have my share of burns on there. *ouch*. What you can also find is some fics from deleted authors that still exist in the fest community postings. Here's the links. And thank you @lee-bella for this post!!! HP Masterlist from 2002-2017. And my fav! Guns&Handcuffs Drarry Fests and Challenges 2004-2015. Wasn't surprised at all to see @vaysh11 was responsible for this. Dig deep into the fests but also note the other links on the Home Page and the text before the masterlists, which gives other fascinating links.

Other TidBits:

I made an ask on a Discord Server for what the ship name was for Harry/Daphne. I was so uninspired when Haphne came back as the answer. I was hoping for something like DaphPot or HarDaph. GreenPot would have been good but there's Astoria, too. Hmm PotDGreen!!! *snicker*

Oh, Rom is sad, sad, sad. After posting on here last time that I'm in desperate need of a beta for my long arse WIP, I then asked on the two big Discord servers for H/D and for HP Writers. No response. Zero. nadda. Just so you know, I'll continue writing this fic and start begging more. Most of those Scorching comments I mentioned that I received way back then was for lack of a good betaing. I have scars...deep scars. Anyone use Grammarly? it has a 30 day limit for 150K.

Happy Wednesday!

Rom

[x-neurotoxin-x]

thoughts on the new BNHA chapter if you've seen it

Imma be so real, i haven't been all that invested in the recent chapters. I've kept up with them but I don't find them all that interesting to me personally. I'll share my thoughts, just fair warning i may have some unpopular opinions;

First of all Izuku losing is arms is crazy. That panel is brutal. I do think there's a possibility of it being reversed/healed/etc bc I don't see Hori committing much when it comes to maiming or killing off the students, so I think he'll be okay

I'm also 100% positive Shigaraki is not dead, won't be permanently possessed, and will be fine. He's basically the only safe villain that isn't going to be killed off and will be given a redemption no matter what.

Those two points are kinda why I find this fight boring. There isn't any real stakes imo because neither of them will die and they're just kinda doing the same "fight, talk, fight, talk" thing the whole time. I find it uninteresting.

I also have no idea why afo is here again. Didn't he reverse to a fetus? Why are you here? That being said, he's silly and dramatic and i kinda love his evil mastermind swag, he makes it a little more bearable between Tomura "woe is me" shigaraki and Izuku "I need to be Morally Right even if I'm killing myself to do it" Midoryia.

Afo being revealed to have a hand in literally all of Tomura's upbringing down to his birth is SUCH a dumb plot point imo. It takes away all of the responsibly factor from Tomura's villainy, shoots a HUGE hole in the "one bad day" theme with the rest of the villains since it wasnt his choice - something that makes every other villain relatable and complex, they all (Dabi, Toga, Twice, Spinner, etc) were dealt terrible hands and subjected to horrible upbringings too but they fell into these paths of villainy by their own choices, and let it shape them. It makes them all very deep while Tomura... Just kinda ruined that theme by making nothing his choice. It's lame and unnecessary, imo.

Speaking of the other villains and plotlines, I really wanna go back to them and I DO NOT WANT them to be pulled into the Shigaraki vs deku thing. None of them are in the place for that physically (they're all half dead), none of its necessary since Shigaraki *is* being saved and has been met with more sympathy from characters/narrative than the rest of the villains, and their character plotlines are still not finished. Toga's fight was rushed, the "acceptance" she received was forced, and we don't know if either of them are okay. Last we saw Dabi he was possibly dying while cursing the entire family and saying he wants to die, none of the todofam stuff is resolved at all and if it gets off screened for the main fight I'm gonna be upset because there's so many complex layers to everything there. Last we saw Spinner he collapsed on the ground somewhere, he may very well be dead. No villains arcs have been finished, properly handled, or wrapped up and it's unnecessary and stupid to have their stuff be tossed aside for "saving Tomura." THEY need to be saved. How about Shigaraki vs deku gets wrapped up and Shigaraki saves THEM. That would fit the narrative better then them being used for more Tomura man pain.

That was a rant wow

Uh what else???

Idk. Im hoping everything gets wrapped up in this chapter bc this war arc has been... Shitty tbh. I wanna hope the aftermath arc is better.

I know everybody freaking out that my hero is coming to an end but I think we still got at least another arc to tie things together and wrap up all the mess of the war arc.

[thesinglesjukebox]

TEDDY SWIMS - "LOSE CONTROL"

Harkening back to a time when music made you shake, rattle, and roll...

[3.79]

Will Adams: Must be love on the brain. Or maybe just water in my ear. [4]

Ian Mathers: When will The Black Keys be held accountable for what they have unleashed upon the world? [3]

Jacob Satter: "He began playing instruments including piano and ukulele, and watched YouTube videos of singers to help develop his vocal technique. [4][5]" -- Wikipedia [4]

Thomas Inskeep: Oh, yay: another big-bearded, face-tatted white boy who thinks he's somehow "soulful" because he heard a Stax record once. And much like Post Malone and Jelly Roll before him, throw him on the burn pile. [1]

Scott Mildenhall: A great audition: four chair turns and a message from Rag'n'Bone Man. All theatrics are plausibly deniable, but the vocal capabilities are conspicuous, with there never being enough of a song to intrude on them. A strong message to the detractors of treading water in the natatorial world. [5]

Nortey Dowuona: The history of soulful white boys is long and strained. The Righteous Brothers are one example, but they never got more than one big immortal hit (only one did: Bill Medley). There's Michael McDonald, Bobby Caldwell, Tom Jones, and, of course, Fucking Drake. Each time a soulful white boy appears, he does appear acceptable, but only up to a point. Once that point has been breached, his existence becomes an anchor -- not a boon -- receiving enmity and bitterness for both his success and his inability to possess the skill demanded from truly soulful singers. As time has gone on, the five-alarm church runs that once ran R&B have gone out of style with the youngsters, unless coated in patiently brush-stroked Autotune. Even though live performances are a crapshoot with many of them, their excellent songwriting kept them aloft. Sometimes, their voices were so pretty that their lack of range didn't bother us. Now, another soulful white boy who possesses the runs (with scalpel-level Melodyne on them) has risen to the top. The worst part is that his song is well-produced: done by Ammo and Julian Bunetta, a trained jazz drummer whose heavy-handed soul drums anchor the thin mix. The plaintive keys shuffle against the tambourines gently, as Bunetta's bass lopes below and follows the key of the keys. But the songwriting from Mikky Ekko drags down this fantastic effort, leaving a held-back guitar solo by Bunetta bashing its neck against the withholding mix of Serban Ghenea. If only Brent Faiyaz was writing this... [6]

Tara Hillegeist: Oh, this is a very passably lovelorn piece of uptempo romantic angst, the kind that sounds like it could just as easily have dropped off the back of Cee-Lo Green's tour bus, circa "Fuck You." But it's not so passable that I can't help but have my main response to it all be "Wow, your man's such a tatted-up white lad, looks like he belongs on the set of a Guy Ritchie film, innit?" And now I've had that thought, I have to ask myself: when's the last time I heard something like this from someone who didn't, whose name wasn't T-Pain? And now I've asked myself that question, I have to wonder: should that question still matter? [6]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: This is a good time to admit that I always thought Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy” was a terrible, plodding song. This sounds like a mellower, simplfied version of that. I find the almost-rapped verse kind of sweet, reminiscent of Ed Sheeran if he had a bit more soul, but then the guitar solo arrives and makes me feel disgust. It is not lost on me that this isn’t so far from Portishead’s “Glory Box.” The difference is that it all feels so rote, the elements already pre-packaged with an understanding of their meaning and import, and they don’t ever come together to bring the track to a greater whole. [4]

Hannah Jocelyn: Does nothing new in this type of song (except for the weird keyboard warble, which I'm not convinced is a good innovation because it sounds like "Dance Monkey (slowed + reverb)"), but the production from Julian Bunetta is phenomenal -- incredibly warm, but with enough muscle that what's probably just a drum loop from Splice sounds massive. Teddy Swims is very much in the Rag'n'Bone Man/Jelly Roll vein of gruff belters, but there's a warmth in his voice that prevents him from coming across like Mr. Roll or, worse, Oliver Anthony. [6]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: I get no enjoyment at all from listening to this. Every pained vocalization, every flanged guitar stab and demonstrative snare hit feels empty to me; whatever feelings Swims has do not survive transit. And yet, I feel a certain perverse respect for "Lose Control" despite all this. Perhaps it reminds me too much of the soul revival tracks that my high school pop ensemble teacher favored, the Fitz & The Tantrums-alikes that I dutifully jammed out to for four years. It's not a style that moves me at all anymore, but as I listen to "Lose Control," I can almost conjure bass tabs and keyboard charts to memorize and devote myself to (and can imagine the students of a semester from now who will be playing along to teenage takes on Teddy Swims' adult melodrama). [4]

Alfred Soto: The echo, horn blasts, and Soulful White Man vocal evoke a pop climate at least a decade past obsolescence, a reminder that a certain overstatement will always serve as a crutch. [4]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: This song makes perfect sense if you just picture the woman he’s singing about standing next to him the entire time.  [3]

Leah Isobel: This man said "problematic" like he's on the Tumblr dash in 2011. [1]

Katherine St. Asaph: Thoughts and prayers for anyone persuaded to fuck to this song. [2]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

[terastalungrad]

BB20: Monday 30 October

Halloween shopping task! Housemates must endure Room 101, facing their greatest fears.

Kerry's greatest fear is MRI machines. Chanelle is confident there won't be an MRI machine in the Big Brother house. "They haven't got enough of them in hospitals!"

A lot of props in the Halloween decorations are familiar to me from horror-themed escape rooms.

Oh, wow, Room 101 is a big round table, with castle aesthetic. They're doing the Traitors!

The table is an ouija board, which they use to summon the ghosts of evicted housemates.

The ghost of Farida warns them that a housemate is manipulating younger members of the house. General consensus around the table is that this refers to Kerry.

The ghost of Zak warns them that a quiet housemate is whispering in people's ears. Dylan seems invested in working this one out, but most of the house isn't bothered.

The ghost of Hallie warns them that a housemate is two-faced - talking about you behind your back despite being lovely to your face. This inspires a lot of speculation.

I reckon the ghost of Hallie's gone for a pretty safe bet there. Like how horoscopes are deliberately ambiguous enough to be definitely true.

Noky has been possessed. When everyone's asleep tonight, she will say the word "Halloween" three times in the mirror in the bathroom.

Noky recruits Trish for this mission. She tells Trish that if they pass this task they'll get "crazy secret powers", which I'm not sure anyone claimed.

After dinner, Yinrun - as always - immediately washes her own dish. Olivia snaps at her. Olivia did the dishes earlier, and clean dishes have been left out to dry. Yinrun adding her wet dish to the pile annoys Olivia therefore.

But ... is that all there is to it?

Later, Olivia apologises to Yinrun. It's a nice moment. Olivia recognises she was unfair. But Olivia explains that Yinrun mustn't feel the need to do her own dishes immediately every night - "let someone else do it".

This isn't the first time Olivia's been annoyed by Yinrun doing something apparently considerate. In the first few days, Olivia attacked Yinrun for being so desperate to split a Pot Noodle two ways.

Something about Yinrun's approach to communal responsibility really rubs Olivia up the wrong way.

Later with Paul, Olivia reflects and realises she's proud of herself for apologising. Back home, she has a lot more tantrums, and being in Big Brother has made this better.

Noky tries to act natural at bedtime. She captures the horror movie possession theme perfectly, by acting in a way nobody has ever acted before.

Noky and Trish must choose three housemates to receive a cursed nomination. All three will face eviction, and that eviction will happen ... tomorrow night?! Fast turnaround!

Noky decides that she and Trish get one nomination each, then choose a joint third option.

Trish nominates Olivia (whom Noky likes). Noky nominates Dylan. Both together agree on Kerry.

[retrobeanzz]

Husk X Short! Reader (M/F)

( here's the Husk x reader I wrote on WattPad originally; decided to post it here too- why not 🤷‍♀️)

It's a rainy, gloomy day. Most demons are asleep in bed by now; of course, there's some that stay up 24/7 wondering what the hell they're doing. (Sponsored by coffee) You see a few demons here and there, what are you doing up so late you wonder? You got both you and your Buddy Husk a small treat from the store a few blocks away. Some chocolate and a new thing of booze, his favorite kind that he doesn't sell. Soon you make it back, you can't use the main doors due the safety standards, because it's locked. So you go to the back where Husk let's you in...

Present time:

"So, whatcha go getting this time?" Husk says looking down at you, then the few bags you were carrying. "Movie night, it's late and it's been raining all day and night.. why not?" You smile as you look up at husk, as he's looking at you confused. "You don't drink booze.. I can tell what's inside that damn thing.. shorty..". He ruffles your hair as he chuckles, you pout at him. "But hey, seriously.. why the booze? I thought you hated that stuff.." Your smile widens as you drag him upstairs and make it to your room. The room has small LED lights that shine a dark blue. The TV has a fireplace background playing as you close the door behind you, husk looking around confused. "What's all this Shorty..?" He stops to look back at you. "Movie night for me and you. I got your favorite booze and got myself chocolate.." Y/n is smiling and looking at him nervously waiting for a response, he's in awe. "I never expected this.. y/n m/n.. no one's ever been this nice to me.. I-I.." he sits on the bed and holds the booze. You get on the bed and start looking for a movie, you find his favorite without him noticing; because he's staring at the booze.. thinking.. After repeating his name a few times he finally stops zoning out. "O-oh um.. sorry just thinking.." he looks up and sees the screen. " Is that.. (F/M)?! This movie is great!" He looks at the TV, his eyes shining like an innocent child receiving a toy. "Wow.. we both like this movie huh.?" You play the movie, as more time goes by, the more you eat your chocolate.. the more he drinks his booze. He rubs his eyes and looks at you, looking at your eyes.. nose.. lips.. slowly going lower and lower. "Hey husk, my favorite part is coming up! See? Look!-.. husk? You okay- oh my.. you drank all of it!?" You pause the movie and hold his hands, looking up at him. "Husk.. you idiot..are you feeling okay..?" Y/n looks at his eyes with a caring expression. He leans in and rests his head on top of yours. "Hey..! I'm not a stool.."

He sits up a little and kisses your neck passionately, holding your hands more; with a loving grip. His grasp, his mind going crazy; all he cares about is you.. and only you.. he places kisses all over your neck and collar bone.. Y/n is speechless and let's him continue, gripping his hands more than before. "You are my home y/n.. I.. really love you" He sits up and looks down at you. You look up at him in shock, with love marks on your neck and chest. "Husk.. is that really you.. or..-" Y/n is cut off by him as he kisses them, his lips are soft with a taste of strong booze; it's addicting. Being short gives him an advantage of this movie night.. giving you kisses and loving words.. holding you close..

(Lemon Part) As he rubs your shoulder down to your stomach slowly; your breaths are getting shorter and lungs are getting heavy. He stops right at your panties and looks at you, looking for approval. His eyes never looked away from you, your body was a work of art in his eyes.. Never wanting to ruin such beauty.. You nod yes but he replies "I wanna hear it.. Let me know if you're comfortable.."

You replied "Yes Husk.. I'm comfortable with this.." After saying that, he rubs your thighs and opens your legs slowly; he leans down and cups your cheek gently. Looking into his eyes, you place your soft lips on his; he ends up squeezing your thigh and pulling you close to him. He pulls away for a second and looks at you; seconds later he slams his lips onto yours to only slide his tongue in. At this point both of your tongues are dancing with lust. You feel something poke your left thigh, it feels hard and wet. You wrap your arms around his neck, deepening the breathtaking kissing being done.

He slowly starts to grind on you; he starts to make small grunts and gripping you more. After a few minutes he goes faster and freezes up. You pull away from the kiss and look down, you see husk panting hard, looking where he's looking, you see white liquid above your panties and all over your thighs. His seed was warm and wet, perfect lube for what was about to happen next. You were already wet and ready for this demon to be inside you; looking at him he stays in place, catching his breath. You open your legs more and see his hard penis, it was a light red like his wings. "You sure you.. wanna do this?" He asks getting closer to you. "Please husk.. I want this more than anything.. I trust you with my body.." With those words came more than one thing.. He only moved your panties to the side while you were still wearing them; he aimed and leaned down as he slipped inside. He firmly yet lovingly gripped your thighs and started moving a little faster than you were expecting.

He looks at you with such care and lust in his eyes that, you can't look away. "Husk.. Are you wearing a.." before you could finish he nods yes. "I'm wearing a condom.. don't worry sweetheart.." You grip his arms as he moves his hips in circles, making the pleasure double. He's definitely done this before, it's been a hot minute though.. you both could hear your hearts racing as you both moaned each other's names. Hot breath and moans late at night made things spicier for the both of you. You felt him starting to go faster, then slower; it was a pattern you figured out. Both bodies, naked, melting in pleasure from the amazing sex.

He starts to slow down and push harder and harder with each thrust, looking at you; your face was quite lewd. He took it as you were close and kept slamming his hips. "Husk..I.." You gasped and your back arches from pleasure. He pushed hard when you came and it makes you moan louder. After a few seconds he starts going faster. He's about to finish too; he's panting hard and his wings twitch a little. He gasps a little and pushes a little and you feel the condom fill up with his warm seed.. (Five minutes pass..)

He finally pulls out and throws the condom away, then lays next to you. You both just had the best sex in years, you can't even remember the last time you even did.. He gets up and gets a small towel and cleans you up a little.. (aftercare ✨💅)

He then snuggles next to you, spooning you gently and holding you close to him. You smile and snuggle up to him. He pulls the blanket up with his tail. His lips met the back of your head, placing a small kiss. You both soon fall asleep..

Morning:

Last night was probably the most tense and exciting time you've ever experienced; losing yourself in a ball of noises and becoming a beautiful duet with your song. You fall asleep soon after and.. well.. so does he.. he told y/n before falling asleep that, he really loves y/n. --- Husk wakes up to see you by his side sleeping still.. the light from outside frames your body beautifully. He just adores you.. after having so much bad luck.. he's finally found his short four-leaf clover 🍀. "Love you too Husk.."

[lovesongrecs]

new beomgyu fic from my favorite ever !! i love to see it. Christmas has come early for me in the form of a pathetic big-dicked four-eyed puppy loser virgin!beomgyu and i just... wow. like i feel so blessed? also i find it so crazy, even whiplash-inducing, given the history (if you can even call it that) i have with this fic because you teased at it back when i was still anon and after revealing myself i've been granted little sneak peaks into your work, including this fic that i had been waiting so long for </33 it was kind of surprising and a little extremely funny being updated on the increasing word count and knowing this would have almost topped killer instinct had you not cut out a few scenes, but regardless, i'm forever grateful and happy that it came out the way it did and you got a little carried away like always because i would have actually gone bat shit crazy otherwise.

anyways, men who are kind of very pathetic about you will always have my heart... </3 it was so refreshing to see beomgyu written like this because even though i'm the #1 dom!gyu advocate, i also equally love when roles get reversed 💗 i'm actually pretty sure i mentioned this last time when i was writing for whatever she wants but . i just Need to say it again. i really liked how you touched on this very early on in the story what with mc usually being on both the submissive and receiving end because i feel like that just adds more to it in a way? and even more when having it revealed how she felt the need to live up to everyone's expectations of her and even acted in a way that would match with the impression people had of her. idk i just think it's cute that everything between her and gyu was kind of like a first for both of them!

at the same time, i totally despise her. that single warning about her being a bitch was not enough like SHE WAS DOWNRIGHT HORRIBLE???? my poor gyu omfg i think i got genuinely sad a few times and even a little shocked because it was one thing for her to call beomgyu as a last resort and him to acknowledge that, but to go on and criticize not just his apartment but freak out and act disgusted by his pet?? BY TOTO?? to give the poor guy a handjob in the middle of the library and make him promise you to act like he doesn't know you in public before you let him cum, which is evil in itself, but because you're scared of how your friends might react to your relationship with him and to just overall talk badly about him behind his back?? and then the whole thing with yunjin too, God. i need her head on a saucer like no joke we need to behead her. you do such a good job at writing characters that piss me off and i just. UGFHSG i have so much hate in my heart for this mc and killer instinct beomgyu. spoiled brats, the both of them! HER CONFESSION WASN'T EVEN CUTE IT WAS SO BACKHANDED "I think you're cute and kinda pathetic in an endearing way," MY ASS! YOU CALLED HIM A LOSER SEVERAL TIMES BEHIND HIS BACK!!!! AND SPINELESS ASS BEOMGYU HAD THE AUDACITY TO KISS HER LIKE DUDE. GET THE FUCK UP!!!!!

i'm actually so conflicted and i'm realizing this now as i write this because i also kind of loved that, idk... mc was sick as hell but i can also acknowledge that, like most troubled rich kids, she had this sense of responsibility to live up to the standards of the people around her which could attribute to how she initially viewed beomgyu as lesser and undeserving of her presence, etc. before realizing her feelings for him, in a way? the execution pissed me off but as always that just goes to show how well written this is because it was like an inner conflict between wanting to be yourself and feeling like you have to act a certain way when that's not true! i mean it was just so absurd seeing mc say "god, he’s literally such a fucking loser, don’t try to pair me up with him— other people might get the wrong idea." as if she didn't suck his dick like two scenes before, totally unprovoked and on her own accord. she's the one who initiated it like girl... wake up 😭

the smut was so good too like i love love Love me a good ol' praise kink and a guy who likes being called puppy... who asks for reassurance after being called a good boy a few times... mc pavlov'ed the fuck out of him omfg i don't know how i managed to read through everything and not go into cardiac arrest because 🤗🤗🤗🤗 the last scene especially made me genuinely want to jump because . bc the way he initiates it and is a little aggressive about it but in the end mc still leads because he doesn't know what he's doing but is still so eager to please... It's like you know exactly what to write that'll send me over the edge. and i'm so normal about: “Could never say no to you…” he says softly, face reddening as he continues, “you’re too pretty to say no to.” i'm going to kms

Like Cat and Mouse!

☆ Playlist! ☆

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

Beomgyu x fem!reader, ft. Hueningkai

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

Word count: 37.1K

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is exactly how you got where you are now. 

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

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

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

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

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

The seat in front of yours is quickly filled. 

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

Jesus. 

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

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

“No, I haven’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Home— I’m sick!” 

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

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

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

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 

This new purse would be divine in your collection. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who are you anyway?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.“

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

The rest of the day is quite underwhelming. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You think you’re dying. 

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

Maybe you should call someone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Attempting to swallow down your disappointment, you nod, a moment of silence passing before you realize that he can’t even see you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, maybe not.

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

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

“But— you said it was—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’re out like a light moments after. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His phone remains silent all night.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beomgyu can only gawk at your comment. 

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

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

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

“Do you wanna hold him?”

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

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

It begins to climb up your arm. 

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

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

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

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

Your body practically slumps in relief. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Softly, he nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His stomach flips at the sight. 

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

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

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

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

“This was fun.” 

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

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Why did you do that. 

“Oh god, why did I do that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lemme make it up to you. Please?” 

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

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

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

Pick me up please. 

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

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

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

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

Now that his desires have been satiated, you doubt he has any use for you now— which is why you find yourself waiting pathetically outside his apartment, not used to this feeling that festers in your stomach as you wait patiently— whether it’s simply for your driver or for the glimmering hope that Hueningkai will own up to his actions and take you back, you’re not sure.

But what you do know is that you’ve never felt so small. 

Moments later, your driver arrives; you swear you try to hold back, but you can’t help yourself from turning around and taking one last peek at Huening’s quiet, dull apartment— gritting your teeth, you flop inside, groaning obnoxiously as you rub your temples in annoyance; your driver is unfazed by your behavior— meeting his eyes, you sigh. 

“I need to go shopping.”

Wordlessly, he nods— you don’t bother to stare out the window once you finally feel the car moving, in fear that your mind may begin to imagine scenarios that simply won’t happen. 

The car ride is silent, and you realize with a frown that you may have left with a mood worse than before.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

This department store is useless.

Geez, did you piss off some god above or something? Because as you stand in your tenth store in the past hour, nose scrunched and brows furrowed unpleasantly, you feel as though you may be getting karma for something— though what it may be exactly, you’re unsure. 

Everything around you is either already in your closet or simply outdated. Your fingertips tap rhythmically against your crossed arms, eyes narrowed as you take slow strides around the aisles of the stores— a part-time employee follows closely behind you, hands folded neatly and a pleasant smile glued to face as she comments on every item your eyes fall on, even if it’s just for a second; your jaw ticks at her cheap tactics to sell to you. 

There’s only one thing that would make your mood at this time— a limited edition purse you have had your eyes on, trying your best to catch your usual stores at the right times in hopes of getting your hands on it. Yet, with every failed attempt, your frustrations and efforts only grow, and you’ve found yourself visiting these stores more often than you’d like, always leaving with an item or two despite telling yourself not to do so. 

“Excuse me,” you say sternly, your steps coming to a halt as you slowly turn to the employee. She’s meek and her voice is airy as she speaks to you, eyebrows raised as though she seems genuinely interested in what you might say next— her act only displeases you more. 

“I’m trying to shop in peace, please leave me alone.” you say, watching as the woman simply flinches at your comment, smile stiffening on her lips before she’s swiftly apologizing seconds after— if you weren’t careful, you could’ve missed the way her lips turned up with irritation as she turned, muttering quietly to herself as though you weren’t two steps away to hear it.

Rich snob, you pick up, blinking in surprise as you watch her steps becoming hasty with her retreat. You don’t allow yourself to be fazed by it, a smile tugging at your lips from amusement before you turn back around; scanning the store, you glance at the mannequins on display, taking in the outfits briefly before you catch onto something else— and before you can control yourself, you’re walking again. 

Don’t be stupid, your brain tells you, yelling at you as you exit the store with haste, pushing past the people standing around as you make your way to the store across, Don’t do this, this is a bad idea, don’t—

Do it, your heart tells you, pounding against your chest as you adjust the purse strap on your shoulder, gulping slightly as you swing open the door, you’re not here for him, you’re here for the very thing you’ve worked so hard for. 

And if it so happens to be in his hands right now, then is it really your fault that you find yourself standing before the very man that hurt you mere moments ago?

“Cute purse,” you breathe out, eyes glued to the way it shines beautifully under the lights of the store, “Though I don’t really think it’s your style.”

Hueningkai doesn’t bother looking up. He’s too busy handling the limited edition purse that you’ve so desperately been searching for, nimble fingers running over the details as though he were actually taking his time to inspect it; instead, he hums softly at your words, pretending to ponder for a second before he’s frowning. 

“You really think so?” he asks, tsking softly to himself before he’s shaking his head, straightening up before he runs a hand against the surface; you watch the way his fingers slide across the material, teeth tugging at your lip as you fight the twitch of your brows, wanting nothing more than to take the item from his hands and walk away. 

You stand there in silence, for a moment; you wonder slightly if Hueningkai is simply ignoring you, and the idea is enough to have you bristling with anger, your jaw clenching as you decide that it’s better to leave now than to look helpless before him— but he’s looking up at you, lidded eyes catching you in a daze as he tilts his head, sending you his signature charming smile. 

“It wasn’t for me,” he says, looking down at the purse in his hands and holding it close to him, as though gauging its weight, “It was going to be a gift.”

“A gift? Quite the gesture on your part,” you scoff, looking at the display area in exasperation— fuck, the only purse in this awful store is in his hands, you realize— leaving you with no other choice but to hope that he’ll stop playing games and leave the purse he clearly never had any intentions of buying, “But I don’t think those other girls you talk to would be very interested in such a specific item like this— I’d suggest appealing to their own interests a bit more.”

With gritted teeth, you reach out to take the bag; an impulsive move on your part, not exactly surprised with the way Hueningkai immediately backs up and holds the bag close to him. You can practically feel your blood boil from the sheer anger that’s taking over from his antics, unamused entirely at the way he merely sends you an innocent smile. 

“Don’t be rude,” he smiles, taking yet another step back, making more distance between you two, “Who are you to say what they would or wouldn’t like? Plus, I saw this first, and I had full intentions of buying it.”

You remain silent— whether you’re too baffled to speak or are simply trying to not explode and yell at him in the middle of the store, you’re not entirely sure— but, as you watch him raise a brow challengingly, you can only find yourself thinking one thing. 

Fuck this. You’ll just order it online. 

The idea takes away the very joy of being able to find it by chance, but you’d rather die right now than grovel to Hueningkai— like he very clearly wants— in hopes that he’ll take pity on you and give you the purse; spinning on your heels, you make your way out with brisk steps.

You don’t get very far before you hear him calling out your name— but you ignore it, a baffled scoff escaping you in response to his sheer audacity to act so shameless after belittling you a few hours prior; you’re a few steps away from the exit when you feel a tug on your wrist, jolting you back and preventing you from leaving.

“What, Hueningkai?” you say, huffing exasperatedly as you shake off his grip on you, “Can’t you just leave me alone for once? I’m not in the mood to play your stupid games.”

“Well then why don’t you talk to me instead of running away childishly?” he says sharply, and you have to bite your tongue in order to not point out his hilariously hypocritical statement, “you’re acting so weird, what the hell happened?”

You think you might just do something that’ll get you banned from the store— but something catches your eye before you can act out on your impulses, and you’re ripping your wrist from Hueningkai’s hold with one last harsh tug. Your gaze is no longer on him; he tries to follow your line of sight, but fails to catch onto what you’re looking at. 

“Get out or leave me alone,” you say, giving him one last cold look before you’re brushing past him, “I’m not interested in talking to you.”

You’re weaving through the displays and getting out of his sight quickly— and Hueningkai is left with a purse he had no interest in buying, looking down at the item before he scoffs; he throws it off at a random shelf and exits promptly after. 

Your footsteps are haste and your heels click rhythmically on the tiled floor; you’re making your way to the cash register, watching his meek stance and the way he flinches under your gaze, a flush running up the back of his neck and coloring his ears red— but you don’t dare to look away from him, placing a rough hand on the counter and leaning close as you inspect him.

“You didn’t tell me you worked here.”

Beomgyu is attempting to stutter out a weak response; his cheeks are colored and his hair is tied back neatly, and you can see the way his hands twitch, undoubtedly resisting the urge to run a hand through the neat style. 

“Why— why would I tell you? It’s not something you’d need to know. Or– is it…?”

You’ve confused him, that much you’re sure of. His brows have knitted together and he remains flustered beyond belief— you’re sure you can guess what’s running through his mind right now, and you fight the twitch of your lips at the mere thought.

“I thought you worked as a server.”

“I– I do?” he’s tilting his head in confusion, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose slightly, “I have two jobs.”

“Three,” you quip, drumming your nails against the counter rhythmically, “you tutor.”

“I… guess…?” Beomgyu says, fighting back the urge to correct you that he really doesn’t— you’re the only one he’s ever tutored before.

“Why would you need to work three jobs? How do you get the time for this?” you don’t really know why you’re pestering Beomgyu about this so much— but you’re also fascinated by it, now beginning to understand where Beomgyu’s lack of social life stems from. 

He’s unsure of how to answer your question again; you don’t seem to be particularly patient today, (but then again, when are you?) so you’re waving him off with a dismissive swat of your hand, shaking your head and clicking your tongue before you’re changing the subject; Beomgyu is left to watch as you pull your phone out, scrolling on it for a bit before you’re placing it on the counter and spinning it around for him to see— his eyes are narrowing in concentration as he takes in the picture.

“This purse,” you say slowly, tapping your nail on your phone screen, as though Beomgyu wasn’t currently looking at it, “do you have it in stock? This guy already got one, but I need to know if you have others— I’ve got to have it.” 

The urgency in your voice is a bit surprising to Beomgyu— he takes in your expression, solemn and a bit scary, and gulps— then he watches the way you melt in relief the moment he nods hesitantly. 

“I’m sure we just got a shipment in today— we, haven’t really, uhm, stocked up properly yet,” he stutters, wincing slightly at the sound while you remain unfazed; your brows lift expectantly, and he’s snapping out his daze and sending you a shaky smile, “I’ll go check.” 

He scurries out of your sight and into the employee door quicker than you can process— and when he turns around to take a peek at the small window, he finds you leaning on the counter and on your phone— probably texting, judging by the way your thumbs fly by on the screen— and he feels another heat of shame wash over him, his head spinning and his legs turning into jello. 

How can you act so casually? He wonders, glasses slipping down just a bit farther down his nose, nimble fingers pushing it back up with ease, like you weren’t just in his bedroom a few hours prior… like he wasn’t under you… 

Beomgyu practically jumps the moment your eyes flicker up and meet his; you simply smile, glossed lips stretching slowly before you give him a wink. 

In response, he spins around and begins to actually look— his heart hammers in his chest.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

So pretty. 

So perfect and smooth to the touch, cool under your fingertips— you take your time to feel, to trace over every detail, intricate and crafted by the gods as you let out a shaky sigh— your eyes meet Beomgyu’s, and you have half the mind to feel a bit sheepish, retracting your hand quickly and returning to a socially acceptable state of mind. 

“Sorry,” you say, beaming at him before you’re reaching into your current bag and handing him your card; his eyes widen comically at the smooth black plastic you place in his hold carelessly, “It’s just… all I could ever ask for. I can’t believe I finally have my hands on this…” 

Meanwhile, Beomgyu rings up your inexplicably expensive item, swiping your card and watching the way you don’t even flinch at the sum that shows up; he feels a bit jealous at your nonchalance. 

You’re carrying the purse like it were a baby; it isn’t until Beomgyu offers to bag it for you that you finally let it go, placing it gently on the counter and smiling fondly as you watch Beomgyu place it carefully in the equally luxurious gift bag, placing filler paper on top and handing it back to you, his movement practiced and calculated as he says his usual lines— his mind is running on autopilot once more, but you’re particularly eager to break him out of it as you reach out to take the bag from him, warm hand wrapping around his and tugging him slightly towards you. 

“Thank you for all your help today,” you purr, shining lips stretching into a coy smile, leaning against the counter and watching as he gulps, adam's apple bobbing, “I think I’ll do well on our upcoming quiz— you’re such a good tutor.”

You don’t bother to stick around after that; your steps are brisk and you’re hugging the purchase close to your body, as though someone were after it and ready to take it, confidence in your step as you exit the store— Beomgyu, on the other hand, practically crumbles the moment you’re out of sight, fingers turning white from how hard he grips onto the edge of the counter; his heart pounds and the sound of blood rushing fills his ears, mind inevitably going back to your teasing action before he’s flustering again. 

You’re laughing to yourself the whole ride home— his reaction plays on your mind like a loop, beyond amused by the sight as you pat yourself on the back for being able to come up with something so clever on the spot. 

What you don’t realize, however, is that there are consequences to your actions— consequences that are far beyond your control.

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

“Are you for real?”

“Uh-huh,” you grin, placing a fond hand on your cheek and batting your eyes at Yunjin, “totally aced it.” 

“That’s something I never thought I’d hear from you,” your friend says, poking her fork at her salad before taking a bite; she furrows her brows as she takes in your expression, mouth agape and eyes wide, as though you were offended. “What? It’s true.”

“Okay, first off— I’m not stupid, just lazy,” you clarify, pointing an accusing finger at your friend as you pout, “and second of all, you should really believe in your friend a little more.”

“I mean, it was a little hard to when all you would do was skip classes and go shopping instead,” Yunjin says, raising a challenging brow when you open your mouth to refute her claims— then proceed to promptly close it again, finding that you really can’t deny that— and a small smile tugs at her lips, the kind that lets you know that she’s about to say something really annoying, “but I guess your study sessions with your little boy toy really did work.” 

“Boy—?!” you’re in the middle of taking a sip from your iced coffee when she says that, the straw slipping from your mouth and a bit of the liquid escaping from the sheer surprise of her comment— you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling a slight heat rush to your face as you stare at her incredulously, “boy toy?” 

“I mean, am I wrong?” Yunjin challenges, tilting her head in curiosity while you simply try to deny her claims, “you were literally just telling me about the way you had him wrapped around your finger a while ago—”

“Not like that though!” you huff, feeling worked up from the mere idea of Yunjin finding out the complete and utterly stupid slip up you had a while ago, “god, he’s literally such a fucking loser, don’t try to pair me up with him— other people might get the wrong idea. It’s already bad enough that I had to get a tutor, because it’s not like I was doing bad in my classes until recently. I mean, it’s still my fault and I did let myself go, but I didn’t think I’d have to stoop so low! And now I have to take so much time out of my day to spend my time studying with him and even worse, you’re trying to insinuate something that definitely isn’t true—!”

“Yes! Okay! Enough of that please!” Yunjin says exasperatedly, glancing over your shoulder briefly before she’s taking another bite of her salad, muttering something about you having a motor mouth, “god, it’s just that… people have seen you two together a lot, you know? And with the way he’s looking over at you right now, anyone would think that he’s like… in love with you, or something.” 

You’re sitting up straight and whirling around at that; following Yunjin’s previous line of sight, you’re able to pinpoint the said boy immediately— sitting a few tables away, catching him staring at you over his laptop, clearly distracted from his work— the moment your eyes meet, he flinches, hunching down so the screen hides him; it doesn’t work very well, and you’re able to see his downcast eyes and reddening face with ease. 

Oh my god, you think with horror, a cold wave washing over you as you stare at him longer— and after a few seconds, he’s peeking back up from his screen, meeting your eyes once more and scrambling to hide unsuccessfully yet again. You decide to turn back around before anyone else around you catches on to this interaction. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, meeting Yunjin’s gaze as she simply nods at you, her face screaming I told you so, “how long has he been there?” 

“Like… basically this whole time,” Yunjin says casually, not fazed in the slightest by your horrified expression, “been staring at you for a while too.”

“Ugh, gross,” you groan, throwing your head back in defeat and staring up at the ceiling with a frown, “I think I might’ve gotten his hopes up too much.”

“C’mon, go easy on him,” Yunjin teases— your head is straightening up to look at her again, but a single glance is enough to tell you she merely finds this situation amusing, “it’s probably his first time properly interacting with a woman.”

“That’s even worse,” you mourn, slumping down and placing your head in your hands; a sudden reminder of your schedule is popping back into your head, and your peeking through your fingers in dismay as you relay the information to your friend, “and I have a study session with him today too.” 

“Aww!” she coos, clearly having a blast as she grins, glancing behind you and undoubtedly at Beomgyu once more, “I’m sure he just can’t wait to see you again.”

“God, please shut up,” you whine petulantly, but your friend brushes off your pleas with a mischievous smile, “you’re making me wanna throw up.”

“What, you gonna cancel then?” 

Silence. Any other day, you would’ve immediately jumped to say yes, pulling out your phone to text him and bailing like it was nothing. But today, you find yourself oddly reluctant to say this three letter word, unsure of why the answer is difficult to voice before you finally give in to the truth— your head slumps with defeat and you’re too ashamed to look Yunjin in the eyes.

“No.”

“Oh wow,” you hear her say, still blatantly teasing you as she laughs giddily— you don’t bother to react at this point, choosing to ignore the unspoken question of why you’re not ditching him this time.

“Hope you have fun,” she muses, taking one last glance behind you before she’s giggling to herself, “try to go easy on him, m’kay?”

Fuck, this was so embarrassing. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Today, you’ve changed up your meeting spot quite a bit; Beomgyu was thoroughly surprised when you asked him to study later on in the day, in a more secluded area on the upper levels of the library, telling him to pick a table and wait for you to get there after— usually, you tried to make your meetups as convenient for you as possible, choosing places that you could easily flee from. 

When you finally come into his line of sight, Beomgyu frowns. You carry your bag with you, along with a troubled expression and tense posture, glancing around you continuously even if there was no one around, even if the table was hidden behind bookshelves— as though you were afraid of getting caught for something. 

You’re dumping your things onto the table unceremoniously— and instead of taking your spot across from Beomgyu like always, you’re sitting next to him, catching him off guard and missing the way he tenses at the action— you’re scooting your chair closer to him and filling his senses with your scent, making him gulp thickly as he tries to not let his mind wander off; he realizes with dread that it’s really not working. 

Beomgyu is a stuttering mess today; you pick up on it with ease, frowning at the way he continues to blunder through his explanations and having to repeat things to you multiple times, hands shakier than usual as he points out certain things in the text before he’s relating it back to the assignment. 

“That— that’s one of the things the… the uhm, the professor said would be important to remember,” Beomgyu stutters, feeling his body heat up at the way you raise your brows at the sound of his cracking and meek voice. With one glimpse at your (clearly) judgemental and demeaning expression that you didn’t even bother to hide, Beomgyu is scrambling to get his act together. 

It works, for a while; the two of you are left in silence as you work on the homework your professor assigned to you, and you remain unfazed at the feeling of Beomgyu catching glimpses at you from time to time; whether that be to look at what you had written down or simply to look at you, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care. 

You’re snapped out of zone of concentration at the sound of rustling; a peek from your peripheral vision allows you to watch as Beomgyu has now begun to dig through his bag, wondering what he could be up to; with a roll of your eyes, you’re focusing back to the question you were working on, not bothering to glance back again even once the rustling has ceased. 

Without warning, something is placed gingerly on the open surface of your textbook; you’re blinking in surprise before you’re registering what it is that has been put before you, brows knitting together as you wonder how you should react.

It’s a… mini paper flower bouquet. 

You’re staring at the item for a solid few seconds before you slowly turn to look at the culprit. Beomgyu meets your intense gaze the best he can, putting up a confident front and fighting back the heat that threatens to engulf his face. 

“Y–You— I heard you did well on your test.” He says, glasses slipping down his nose and bangs falling into his eyes, gaze flickering away for a split second before he wills himself to look at you again. Your stare is dead and unreadable.

“I never told you that.” 

Beomgyu is losing this battle, his confidence visibly wilting away as his cheeks begin to get dusted with pink. His eyes are wide like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to respond as you give him a look that is expecting an explanation— his cheeks are now a bright red. 

Even without his explanation, you both know how he got a hold of this news— and you’re thinking back to Yunjin’s teasing, the fear of being seen with him during today’s study session, and the flustered boy in front of you— and your mouth is running faster than you can stop it.

“Choi Beomgyu, do you like me?” 

If the floor around you was already quiet before, it’s dead silent now; you’re even able to pick up on the stuttered breath Beomgyu lets out, his eyes growing comically wide as he simply stares at you; almost as though he couldn’t believe what you just asked of him. 

“Actually, don’t even answer that,” you wave him off, choosing to ignore the way this seems to spring him into action, stuttering and failing to put together a proper sentence to tell you that no, he definitely doesn’t— you just caught him off guard! 

But it’s not like you would believe him anyway, with the way he remains flustered long after you asked the question, unable to even look your way for the rest of the session, staring straight at the textbook and nowhere else whenever you would ask him a question— after a while, you begin to tire of his behavior. 

“Choi Beomgyu,” you call out again, soft and dangerous as you turn to face him— he was attempting to explain a question to you, words dying on his tongue as he took in your sudden proximity— leaning in toward him, you tilt your head as you observe his reaction, watching the way his lips press together and his adam's apple bobs as he gulps softly; his puppy-like eyes shine as he waits for you to say something.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, your voice beginning to dip into that coy lilt that you’ve used on him only one other time— and that’s enough to have Beomgyu’s mind spinning, the poor boy thinking thoughts that he’s tried to suppress this whole time— your affect on him is beginning to show once more. 

“You look a little…” your eyes flicker down beneath the table, a smile tugging at your lips before you’re looking back into the boy's eyes; catching where you were looking, Beomgyu can’t help but tug his sweater over his lap in embarrassment. 

You’re leaning even closer now— your breath is fanning against the shell of his ear, the boy’s face practically on fire as his hands remain clenched and tense on his lap— he’s practically a statue due to your proximity. 

“Distracted.” 

Your hands are mischievous; curious, setting your pencil down carefully before they begin to wander, sliding across the table before it falls off the edge, nails scratching at the wool material of Beomgyu’s sweater before it lands on top of his hand that covers his lap— you grin at the choked breath of surprise he lets out from the simple touch. 

“What— what, what are y–you—?” Beomgyu is about to bite through his lip at this rate, eyes wide and panicked as he watches your hand push his away, taking in the bulge in his pants as a flush of shame rises up his neck; you’ve caught him, but you don’t seem to be fazed in the slightest as you’re cupping him gently, looking up at him with doe eyes and lashes that flutter innocently— he thinks his heart might just explode from how quickly it’s pounding. 

“Wait, wait wait— we’re in— other people might—” he’s tripping over his words, saying so much yet nothing at all, but the way his eyes skirt over the perimeter is enough to tell you what he’s thinking— yet all you see are bookshelves that surround and hide you well— beneath the warmth of your hand that has yet to move, you can feel Beomgyu hardening within seconds. 

“It’s late. There’s no one else here right now,” you say sweetly, too sweet, a bit patronizing as you lean in close and coo the words directly into his ear— you’re brushing back his long hair with a gentle hand, tucking it behind his ears that he always seems to hide; they’re a pitiful bright red and decorated with silver piercings, absentmindedly caressing along his jaw with the back of your hand; his eyes flutter shut at the tender action, along with the feeling of your hand finally beginning to rock against his cock gently— and he melts into the chair, like putty in your hands as you watch his shoulders slump and cave into himself, his head hang at the stimulation; you’ve barely done anything, yet he’s already a mess— the sight surprises you.

“Go ahead,” you continue softly, hand cupping his jaw and cradling it carefully, attempting to get him to look at you again— and he follows your commands effortlessly, pretty eyes fluttering open and his head turning at the gentle push of your hand— and he’s looking at you with glassy, wide eyes, cheeks flushed pink and mouth parted as his eyes begin to flutter shut again— and your thumb is rubbing soothing circles along his cheekbone teasingly, leaning in slightly to whisper again, close enough that he can feel your breath fanning against the tip of his nose, “Puppy, look at me.”

He follows your command in a heartbeat; he’s met with another of your sickeningly sweet smiles, deceiving and comforting all at the same time. 

“Go ahead now puppy,” you murmur, any movements of your hand ceasing entirely as you watch him with eager eyes, watching the way he seems to sober up at the loss of your touch, “take my hand off— c’mon, take it off if you really want to.”

A moment passes— he really should be taking your hand off, shouldn’t he? But his mind is clouded now and you look so pretty under the warm library lights, pristine and perfect as always, glossy lips and lidded eyes encouraging him with a deceivingly fond look— but Beomgyu loves it, and he loves the way you laugh mockingly at him, unable to control the way he whines petulantly and shakes his head, giving you your answer by thrusting his aching cock into your hand desperately.

“Good boy,” you utter absentmindedly, a compliment that makes Beomgyu’s hips stutter as you finally begin to inch up his bulge, careful fingers making quick work to undo his pants— and with one last glance at the deserted area around you, you’re slipping your hand inside and past the tight waistband of his boxers. 

“Haah—!” Beomgyu is slapping a hand over his mouth and beating you to it, eyes wide and face even more flushed than before as he stares down at the way your hand disappears beneath the material of his boxers, expertly wrapping around his length and slowly beginning to jerk him off underneath the table. 

You don’t seem to be worked up by any of this at all; your eyes are lidded with a slight boredom, a tiredness he’s seen at every one of your study sessions, watching the way you turn back to your homework and begin reading the instructions, hand still working expertly at his length as you do; Beomgyu has to press another hand firmly against his mouth the moment your thumb is swiping over his tip, collecting the constant arousal that collects there and using it as lube— you don’t even bat an eye at him during all this. 

After a few minutes, you’re able to hear the slick sounds of your hand working against his cock effortlessly; the poor boy is aroused and leaking beyond belief, now sporting a wet patch against his pants that you seem to be dead-set on worsening— your pace is picking up and you don’t bother to glance at Beomgyu to check up on him, though you also don’t bother to hide the way your lips quirk in amusement at the sight of him trying (and failing) to keep his composure. 

“M–mmh, agh— close, s’close…” Beomgyu stutters out pathetically, bucking his hips up messily and turning back into that desperate and rambly mess from the first time you sucked him off; his voice is deep and breathy as he whispers out these pleas to you, begs to not stop, to go faster, to—

“Beomgyu,” you whisper coyly, using this chance to finally put your plan into action, “Beomgyu baby, d’you wanna cum? Hmm? Want me to make you feel good?”

He’s nodding thoughtlessly; of course he’s nodding, his mind has gone blank and there’s nothing else in there that seems to make sense except for the way your warm hand wraps around his cock so perfectly, unable to stop the choked whines he lets out every time he feels you squeeze him teasingly. 

“Then you gotta do something for me, okay pup?”  you coo out, making sure to use the nickname you know he loves so much— he lets out a choked whimper at the sound, brows knit tightly together and hair falling in front of his face with the way he hangs his head— and you’re leaning in close to him again, breath fanning on his skin and your palm slapping his cheek softly, tapping at it to get his attention; it works like a charm, and his glassy eyes are meeting yours once more. “Puppy, are you listening?”

“I’m—” his words get cut off by a weak whine, feeling your hand tighten teasingly around him, “I’m listening— I’m listening.” 

“Good,” you coo out, feeling the way his hips buck and he starts becoming restless, “now if you wanna cum, you gotta promise me something, okay?” 

Anything, anything for you, he breathes out absentmindedly, and you’re sure he has no idea what he’s even agreeing to at this point. 

“Don’t act like you know me when we’re in public,” you say sweetly, muddling his mind by increasing your pace, by doing exactly what you’ve noted makes him squirm and cry the most, “I don’t know you, you don’t know me— we’re strangers.” 

You notice the way his face is twisting up in confusion; his mouth is parting and he’s fighting to say something, to ask why— but you’re not giving him a chance to, brushing his hair back and cupping his face, turning him to look at you and digging your nails into his cheeks to get him to meet your eyes; through the intense pleasure you give him, you can still see the hurt that swims within. You let out a soft coo at the pathetic sight.

“Come on, promise me, okay?” you pout, “you’re a good boy, right? You’ll keep your promise?” 

His hips are stuttering and fucking into your fist again; you’ve got him pinned down precisely. Any coherent thought is fading out of Beomgyu’s mind and the only thing he’s concerned himself with is his impending orgasm, the feeling of pleasure that is only heightened with every string of praise you say to him. 

“Be a good little puppy and say you’ll promise me,” you say, thumb swiping over his bottom lip before you’re pulling at it, dark eyes observing the way he melts before your touch and finally gives in— he’s nodding, you’ve got him right where you want him, and all you needed was a little bit of mindless praise. “c’mon, say it, say it and you can cum.”

“I promise,” he breathes out, whiny and high pitched and strained, as though speaking was a challenge for him, “I’ll do anything, please— pleasepleaseplease, let me cum, I’ll— I promise.”

“There we go baby,” you hum in approval, pressing a peck to his pouting lips and taking in the way his waterline is filled with tears that hang precariously, “such a good boy— my good boy.”

His hips stutter, rising off the seat, and you’re feeling warm spurts of cum land on your skin. His mouth is falling open and you’re sure he might just let out a loud noise, so before you can think twice, you’re pulling his face close to you and smashing your lips against his; he whines weakly into mouth, and you’re swallowing it greedily, kissing him languidly and guiding him through his high with praise that makes his breath stutter and his knees weak. 

You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and good.

It takes a while before Beomgyu is finally coming to his senses. He’s panting softly against your mouth, lips swollen and bitten at, his cock sensitive as the feeling of you continuing to pump him slowly suddenly becomes too much; with a shaky hand, he presses against your shoulder and attempts to signal you to stop. You’re pulling away immediately. 

Beomgyu looks, for lack of a better term, absolutely destroyed. His face is flushed and his eyes are droopy with exhaustion, hair mussed and messy and his clothes in complete disarray; you look down, and you’re wincing in half amusement and half pity at the sight of the wet spot against Beomgyu’s jeans. He’s following your gaze, and if he could turn any redder, you’re sure he definitely would’ve; his ears burn. 

Your hand is messy; his cum is still coated on your skin, sticky and incriminating as it sticks to your fingers and pools in between, a grimace twisting your face into a look of dismay as you stare down at the mess— before you can even think of what to do about it, Beomgyu is handing you a tissue. 

His hand is shaky as he extends it out to you; your gaze is snapping up to meet his, only you’ve found that he can’t look at you at all— it seems as though the fog in his mind has already subsided and he’s realized what you’ve asked of him, lips pressed together and face still flushed as you finally take it from him. He turns away from you immediately, pulling his sweater over his lap and staring down at the disarray of textbooks and notebooks before him. 

The silence is suddenly unbearable. You feel awkward as you wipe at your skin, even more so when you’re stuck with nothing but a soiled tissue and a hand that’s still undeniably dirty, the tension between you two now growing tenfold by the second as you finally decide that you should probably just go— it’s not like he’d be surprised by it anyway. 

You’re opening your mouth to excuse yourself— to ignore the elephant in the room, to simply run away with a coy smile like you always do— but Beomgyu is beating you to the punch, and you can’t even hide the startled flinch your body does as he stands and begins to pack up hastily, shoving his materials into his book bag without a second glance to see if everything is perfectly aligned and neat.

You can only sit there and watch; it’s clear that your words seem to have gotten to him, and though you were expecting the awkwardness that would stem from it, you didn’t expect Beomgyu to be upset; your mind races to find reasons why, to try and wrap your head around why he would be feeling this way. 

“I asked the professor how you were doing in the class, since you never seem to want to tell me,” Beomgyu finally says, breaking the tension and adjusting the materials in his bag to be just the way he likes it; he zips his bag shut in one aggressive swoop, and you can’t help the surprise on your face when he sends you a harsh glare. 

“He says you’ve been improving greatly; said you were a good student from the very start, that you only needed to catch up on the materials.” he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder, pushing the chair in and taking a step back from your dumbfounded figure, “so it looks to me that you achieved your goal with our sessions.”

A moment passes— and your eyes widen slightly, catching on to what he’s trying to tell you, finding that you really want to deny the professor’s claims, even if they are true. But your pride impedes you from uttering a single word, knowing that it would kill you to try and coax Beomgyu to stay with you, to keep these study sessions going— and through this sudden urge, you catch yourself wondering why you would even want this to continue.

“I’m glad my help seemed to work— but it seems that you don’t even need it anymore,” Beomgyu finalizes what he needed to say, and you can see the way his shoulders practically sag from the relief of getting his thoughts across; his hand goes to tug his oversized sweater down, completely covering his lap and the mess you left— he grimaces softly. 

“What? So that’s it?” is all you can say, watching his face harden at your words, “Just like that? What about me?”

His face twists up in anger— your words have struck a nerve, and suddenly, he’s remembering why no one wanted to tutor you in the first place. 

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” is all he says, taking another step back and increasing the distance between you two, “anyone would be willing to tutor you with the rate you like to offer.”

You both know what he really wants to say— just use your money on someone else to get what you want, like you always do. You find that you can’t really say anything to that. You remain silent.

Beomgyu turns around, and leaves; he doesn’t bother to say goodbye, and you’re left to watch his retreating figure, the hastiness of his pace and the way he continuously tugs his oversized sweater down over and over, even if it doesn’t move an inch. 

That’s it, you tell yourself, leaning back against your chair, staring down at the display before you, at the notes you were actually taking, the work you were finally doing, you finally got what you wanted. 

After a moment, the seat next to you is feeling a lot emptier than it did seconds ago; the room feels endless, as though you were left alone in this lonely labyrinth. Beomgyu’s words echo in your head, and you frown. 

Is this what you wanted?

 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu has kept his promise well; you haven’t seen him in weeks. 

Not around campus, not around the dining halls, not even in the library, a place you’ve found yourself actually attending regularly— not even in the only class you shared— and it seems as though he’s vanished off the face of the Earth. 

You’ve found yourself thinking about him more often than you’d like; wondering if he’s okay, if he’s off at one of his many jobs again, if he’s resting— it makes you shiver with disgust every time you catch yourself, grimacing at the idea that you would even find yourself worried about him— and while you tell yourself that you’ve finally gotten rid of one of your biggest burdens, you can still feel the nagging feeling to talk to him every time you see his contact in your phone.

“Did you finally get him off your trail?” Yunjin asks you one day, when you’re busy checking the due dates for this week’s assignments online, making a mental schedule of what to work on first as you leave your food untouched; her words are snapping you out of your trance, looking up at her with a gaze that screams I wasn’t listening, what? 

“Your little plaything— the loser guy?” she drawls, watching your face carefully, taking your small reaction as a sign that you’ve caught on, “did you finally shake him off?” 

“I— yeah, I did,” you say apathetically, letting out a soft tsk as you’re looking back at your laptop, “finally.”

“Wow, look at you,” Yunjin awes, seeing the way your brows furrowed in concentration and you have yet to eat, too immersed in your course load to roll your eyes at her clear, mocking tone, “looks like he really did a number on you— I didn’t know you used your laptop for anything other than shopping.”

“Yunjin, come on,” you sigh, jaw clenching as you suddenly don’t find yourself in the mood for her teasing, “I mean, I know I’ve been slacking really bad recently, but you know that’s not true.”

She doesn’t seem to take you seriously— then again, no one ever really does, a constant in your life that makes you jaw tick and your eyes mentally roll— and she laughs, shaking her head and pouting as though you were a thing to be pitied. You wonder how much of this is supposed to be friendly teasing. 

“Yeah sure,” she sighs, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand and leaning over to look at your screen, “Don’t work too hard though, it might hurt your brain.”

You ignore her comment; Yunjin doesn’t seem to care about your silence, doesn’t bother to gauge your reaction as she continues to poke at yet another of her salads, pushing the contents around with her fork in boredom as she speaks up again. 

“You know, hopefully he has the same effect on me.”

This gets your attention immediately. Yunjin is looking at you with surprised eyes that feign innocence, raising a confused brow at your narrowed eyes. 

“What do you mean by that,” you ask slowly, attempting to keep your tone indifferent as you speak.

Yunjin shrugs, as though what she was about to tell you next wasn’t of any importance— and it really shouldn’t be, but you still can’t ignore the way it makes your body feel like you’ve been shocked with a wave of electricity. 

“I mean, your little tutor seemed to be such a good influence so…” she stabs at her salad lazily, bringing up the fork to her lips before she’s sending you a small smile. “I thought I’d give him a try.” 

You bristle quite visibly at that; your mind is running a million miles an hour, wondering where this sudden idea is coming from, being friends with Yunjin for longer than you can remember as your mouth begins to run before you can stop it. 

“You said your parents have tried to set you up with multiple tutors— the best in the country,” you say, brows knitted together as Yunjin simply shrugs her shoulders, raising her brows as if to say and? “You said you’d rather die than to get tutored— you said it was a waste of time.”

“Yeah… but…” Yunjin shrugs again, and you wonder how much of this is just an impulse from her as she continues, “I don’t know, my parents are on my ass again about giving me a tutor, and I don’t wanna deal with all those stuck up pricks they send to me.”

She admits her true motives with her next words. 

“And I don’t know… he’s kinda cute?” she says, laughing like a schoolgirl who was embarrassed to admit a crush, “In like, a pathetic kinda way— and now that he’s done tutoring you, I’m sure he has a slot that opened up.”

Your mind is spiraling with things to say to her; you want to tell her to stay away from Beomgyu, to not try to mess with him— tell her that he’s a loser that isn’t worth her time, a nerd with an obsession with a lame game and the owner of a creepy bird— but you catch yourself, biting your tongue and taking in the way Yunjin simply looks at you expectantly; as though waiting for your embarrassing outburst, you realize.

With a scoff, you’re slamming your laptop shut— Yunjin flinches in surprise. 

“I’m sure one did— I’m leaving,” is all you say, knowing that nothing would change, even if you tried anything. Yunjin scrambles to try to get you to stay, but all attempts fall short— you tell her there’s an exam you need to study for, and she sighs in defeat. 

“You’re coming to the party this Saturday, at least?” she says, clearly annoyed at your sudden sensitivity, at your sudden change in attitude, “you promised you would.”

Your mind is attempting to remember what she could be talking about— then you’re finally remembering the event she spontaneously planned a few weeks back, telling you that she hasn’t seen everyone together in one place in so long— and while you found yourself agreeing excitedly back then, you don’t have much energy to do so now. But Yunjin is staring at you expectantly, raising a brow at your silence, and you find that there’s really not much of a choice for you. (There is, but you know there’d be consequences if you chose wrong.)

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Perfect!” she beams, eyes crinkling and her hands clasping together happily, as though there was no previous tension between you at all mere moments before, “I’ll see you then.” 

You merely nod, turning around and taking your food to the nearest trash can— you weren’t really hungry, anyway. 

You can feel Yunjin’s eyes pinpointed on you the whole way out. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

You’ve always loved parties. 

You loved to dress up, make yourself look pretty and catch the eyes of everyone with your pretty dresses and makeup done to perfection; loved the attention that came with it, the way you could let loose for once and not worry about your image, drinking and feeling your body become loose, mind finally being allowed to forget about any worries you had. 

You were known to be a social butterfly; the pretty airhead that couldn’t stop talking once you got her started— always the life of the party, never one to cling to the wall and stare at the dance floor wistfully. 

Standing before the beach house of Yunjin’s parents, one they didn’t use as much as they once did when Yunjin was only a little girl with an affinity to the sea, you begin to wonder where that part of you has gone. 

You feel dreadfully out of place. You haven’t even gone inside yet. 

Music is blasting and the windows are dark, save for the bright neon lights that come from an unknown source; Yunjin has always been a sucker for that club vibe, anyway. You want to go in, want to walk inside and pretend like it’s nothing, but this time, you can only stand at the bottom of the steps and tug your dress down a little more. You feel like a prude. 

Deep breaths, you tell yourself— one in, one out, your chest rising and falling slowly as you  try calm your racing pulse— and with a silent okay of reassurance to yourself, you will your body to begin its trek up the steps. 

The door is unlocked; it’s not like you needed to knock to get in, anyway— only those with an invite even knew this party was happening. The place isn’t packed— nor is it meant to be— but it’s a bit crowded at least, filled with familiar faces for the most part; all people you grew up with or around, sons and daughters of influential families that grew to be nothing but partiers and troublemakers. In other words, your usual crowd. 

There are some exceptions to these guests, however. People you’ve seen around campus, student athletes with a scholarship and business majors that have already found themselves internships to the companies others in the room are a part of— and it seems that no matter how much everyone here tries to pretend and deny, they can never really separate their personal lives from the responsibilities passed down to them at birth. 

Your first instinct is to beeline it to the kitchen; in other words, to the makeshift bar Yunjin always sets up, an impressive display of alcohol and even a hired bartender making drinks left and right— you immediately ask for two jello shots, something Yunjin always made for herself and in extension, you, not in the mood for anything stronger as you opt to get this nervous energy out of you instead; you proceed to get two more a second after, just out of habit.

You should find Yunjin; let her know you’re here, make sure she doesn’t try to scold and bitch at you for promising to go to her party only to end up ditching— you’re sure she’d never believe you unless she saw you with her own eyes. 

The kitchen is empty. The makeshift dance floor seems to be empty as well, spending a few minutes scouring the place and shrugging off any passing advances; with a heavy sigh, you decide that you should check upstairs, just in case, ready to make your way up before a rough hand is grabbing at your elbow and tugging you back; the smell of alcohol greets you before Yunjin can. 

“You actually came!” Yunjin yells over the music, her face flushed from the alcohol and her balance off as she stumbles slightly; you make a quick move to catch her, eyes drifting down before you’re catching sight of the uncomfortable heels she dons— meeting her gaze once more, she pouts. 

“I don’t even know why I wore these,” she groans, running a hand through her auburn hair, watching the way it falls back into place perfectly— she then proceeds to scan over your own outfit, letting out a sound of awe as she smiles, “you look great! Pretty as always.”

She’s muttering something else, but you can’t really hear it over the sound of the music; eventually, you find your eyes drifting away to the dancefloor, wondering if there’s anyone else you could recognize— your eyes lock with a particular, infamous athlete’s, one that you’ve been dying to get with since the beginning of the semester— and you’re suddenly thankful for the buzz the jello shots provided you, Yunjin eventually following your gaze and cheering at the realization of what you were planning. 

She’s pushing you forward before you can even think things through; the man with dark hair simply smiles at you, coy eyes beckoning you closer— and with a deep breath, you decide to let go of any worries you had and go back to being your airheaded, carefree self— even if just for a moment. 

“Hey,” he says simply, a hand going to rest on your waist; the music is much too loud for you to converse properly, but you don’t really seem to mind as you allow yourself to get lost in the rhythm instead— that, and because your tipsy brain has forgotten his name, and the low lights that obscure his face aren’t exactly helping either. 

But it seems as though he was thinking the exact thing; he’s leaning down to ask the exact question you were wondering into your ear, deep voice and pouty lips that brush against the shell of your ear making you shiver— you’re muttering your name into his ear, tilting your head toward him to allow him to do the same.

Yeonjun. Your head seems to clear for the moment. 

“Looks like we finally meet,” he grins, still close to your face in order for you to be able to hear him; your face twists up in confusion, and he laughs softly before continuing. “You’re just as pretty as I’ve been told— my friend talks a lot about you. You’re trouble, hmm?”

“Your friend?” is all you can say in response, placing a hand against his chest and leaning in closer, the music muddling his words slightly; his hand continues to hold you steady, and the two of you continue to sway to the rhythm. 

“Yeah,” he laughs, staring at your face that’s twisted up in obvious confusion, “My roommate, Beomgyu? I heard he tutored you for a bit.”

His name is enough to clear your head entirely, as though a bucket of ice water has been poured over your body and drenched your figure. 

“He— he told you about me?” you ask, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so pathetic, for feeling so curious as you stare at Yeonjun with undeniably hopeful eyes; instead, all you get is another amused laugh from him. 

“Are you kidding? You practically traumatized him!” he jokes, though you don’t find yourself laughing along to that, lips twitching and a frown threatening to take over your features, “You’d think he was scared of you from the way he talked about you.”

You don’t respond to that; you’re not sure how you would respond to that anyway, letting out a weak laugh and falling silent as you look over his shoulder and fall back into the beat of the song— but it seems as though Yeonjun is too drunk, and frankly, unaware to take in your reaction, because he’s leaning into your ear and murmuring words that strike the final blow into your heart.

“He’s here, actually— Yunjin and him really seem to be hitting it off. Didn’t think he had it in him”

You chose to bite your tongue, biting back a bitter comment about how he really doesn’t have it in him to woo someone like Yunjin. But Yeonjun is too amused by his own comment to pick up on the sudden sourness of your mood, mouthing the lyrics to whatever’s playing and guiding your hips with a hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he sends you a wink. But you’re too shaken by this sudden news that you no longer feel the need to play along, much less try to hook up with him tonight. Now that you think about it, the once superficially important goal of chasing after the athlete before you had been pushed down the list of your priorities long, long ago. 

“‘M gonna get a drink,” you mutter miserably, pushing against Yeonjun’s chest and ignoring the way he immediately begins to complain, untangling yourself from his grip as you leave with one final, half-hearted sorry!

Screw jello-shots, you think to yourself, stumbling back to the kitchen with sore feet, I need something stronger. 

Something stronger comes in the form of a mysterious drink you let the bartender make for you; you didn’t exactly keep track of the ingredients he listed off to you, simply nodding instead when he asked if that’s what you wanted— if you think it’s strong enough, you replied with a smile, choosing to ignore the hesitant nod he gave you in return. 

The speed at which you downed the drink was enough to have the bartender at your side with a water and a warning look— you ignored it, of course, drinking the water with a slight pout, only bothering to drink half before you were back to the dancefloor; maybe you could distract yourself with Yeonjun for a while, you think. 

But any plans to track down the said man come to a glaring halt the moment you’re stepping out the kitchen; your eyes widen, surprised expression mirroring Hueningkai’s as he stands before you— his eyes scan over your figure, running back up and stopping at your hazed eyes and flushed face, the slight sway in your movement helping everything click in his mind; you’re a few drinks away from getting utterly wasted, and it seems as though that’s the path you’re getting ready to take. 

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Hueningkai says, watching your face scrunch in confusion, taking a step forward to hear him better, “Thought you’d be too busy doing another study date to come.”

“Shut up,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and scoffing at the implications of his words, “And why do you care? I’m surprised you’re not fucking a random girl in Yunjin’s bathroom right now.”

“I tried,” Hueningkai rolls his eyes, smiling in that obnoxiously smug way as he watches you frown. He leans in, placing a hand on the doorway and above your head as he reaches out to grab your waist; tugging you close to him, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he mumbles quietly, “but she wasn’t anywhere as good as you.”

“You’re gross,” you glare, leaning back as you let your lips upturn in disgust, already knowing what he’s implying— asking of you— with a simple look at his face. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Are you still mad?” Hueningkai asks, beginning his chase even after you’ve successfully escaped his clutches, ignoring him with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms and make your way out to the living room, “you never even told me what was wrong, you just ran away and kept bitching at me.”

You huff; it doesn’t seem like Hueningkai will give up anytime soon, so you’re whirling around and sending him a pointed glare as you finally give him the closure he so desperately keeps asking for. 

“I did tell you what was wrong,” you start, clenching your jaw at the way he immediately opens his mouth to refute that, “you treat me like nothing more than a fuck buddy, acting as though we weren’t actually friends before that! All you do is make me feel worthless, then you have the audacity to turn around and play the victim?! Like seriously, Hueningkai, is this all you see me as? A body to fuck?”

Hueningkai began asking you to keep it down the moment you felt yourself get riled up; volume rising, face heating up, you ignored him, ignored the odd looks you got from others, deciding that since the man before you wanted to hear your thoughts so badly, you’d let it all out.

“We used to be friends. We grew up together!” you say, feeling ridiculous for continuing to grieve the past, the days where things weren’t so complicated and all you felt for Hueningkai was a harmless crush. “I can’t believe I let you use me like this, just because I thought I liked— god, I’m so stupid.”

You don’t give him a chance to retaliate; you’re turning around and ready to weave your way through the faceless people and go outside, only making it halfway before Hueningkai is grabbing at your elbow and asking you to wait. His persistence garners yet another roll of your eyes.

“You what? Hang on, what was that last part?” he asks, trailing behind you and desperately asking for an answer— because of course he would hone in on that part. You continue to ignore him, tugging your arm out his hold and beginning to push through the crowd at the dancefloor— seriously, how many people did Yunjin invite? You seem to have severely underestimated the capacity of this place.

“You— did you like me? Do you like me?” Hueningkai’s last attempts to get something, anything from you are childish and do nothing but make your stomach churn, “Come on, we can talk this out, be mature about it— I can fix things, I can make it up to, yeah? Hey, don’t bail on me now—”

“Enough!” you yell, getting yet another round of side glances and strange looks from others; listening in like always, pretending horribly to be ignorant to it all.

You’re right before the doorway; so close, yet you know that if you leave now, Hueningkai will continue to follow and pester you— so as horrible as the timing is, you realize with a heavy feeling that now is your chance to do what you’ve been debating on for so long. 

“Please, I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say, your words weak as you look right into his eyes— and everything surfaces into your mind once more, the innocent hope you once had of stealing his heart one day, “Let’s just end this— everything.”

The words feel familiar on your tongue, only this time, you realize that this is the person you should’ve directed this message to in the first place.

“We don’t know each other,” you say, jaw clenched at the way it takes Hueningkai a second to process things due to the music that tries to drown you out— you still catch onto the exact moment where it all registers in his head, eyes widening and mouth opening to protest— but you beat him to it, not giving him another opportunity to try and haphazardly fix thing, albeit momentarily. Your eyes meet his, and your heart wrenches upon seeing that he’s more annoyed than hurt. 

“Don’t talk to me— we’re strangers now.”

The final blow is like a weight that is immediately taken off your shoulders; you reach to open the door and slip out. This time, Hueningkai doesn’t follow. 

The air is cool on your face and a nice contrast to the stuffy air inside the house. Slowly, you make your way to the corner of the porch fence, stumbling over due to the soreness of your feet and the alcohol that still runs through your system. So many emotions course through you, seemingly wanting to bring about a wave of nostalgia and sadness, lingering feelings for the man you’ve just let behind— but you won’t allow yourself to cry over him, scoffing instead at the way you allowed yourself to foolishly bend over backwards for him for so long. 

“Wow,” you hear a voice say, not bothering to look back as you immediately recognize who it is; Yunjin joins you, leaning against the fence and craning her head forward to properly survey you— you don’t bother looking at her, even more so when she finally continues,“That was harsh back there.”

You sigh. Because of course Yunjin heard that, and of course she’s the one to bring it up immediately after. 

“Didn’t think you’d actually cut him off— I thought you’d always be like, head over heels, hopelessly in love with him— like a little girl, you know? You never seemed to grow out of him.” You glare at her, but continue to remain silent; she laughs, throwing her head back at the sight, only to wobble back slightly from the sudden motion.

“Oh come onnnnn, you know it’s true!” she coos, proceeding to poke at you teasingly and twist her voice to sound like you, “Huening called me pretty. Huening bought me the purse I really wanted. Huening wants me to go with him to dinner with his parents. Huening Huening Huening—!”

Her laugh is obnoxious, even after you’ve hissed at her to be quiet; she continues to mock you under her breath, drunkenly quoting things she overheard from your outburst, and you realize with a disappointed sigh that she definitely won’t be stopping soon. 

“Heyyy, don’t get all sensitive on me now!” she whines, grabbing your hand and tugging you back when you attempt to leave; it doesn’t work, and you merely tug yourself out her grip, not even bothering to respond to her cries to stay.

Yunjin pauses her dramatics the moment you’re turning and leaving, scoffing at the way she offhandedly apologizes, words slurring together as she says that she’s sorry if you feel offended! You’re shaking your head at that, making your way back to where the stairs are, glancing back at the home one last time— and you’re freezing for a second when you meet Beomgyu’s gaze, the boy wide eyed and awkward as he stands at the doorway. Behind you, Yunjin cheers drunkenly. 

“Beomie! Hey, could you tell her to stop being so dramatic? Like come on, I’m just trying to have fun,” Yunjin’s rambles are left unacknowledged by you both, and you finally find strength within you to walk away after a second; it’s not like you and Beomgyu had anything to talk about, anyway. 

Behind you, Yunjin calls for Beomgyu to go to her and give her attention; her pleas fade from your ears and you’ve finally made it onto the beach, pulling out your phone and fumbling through your contacts before you’re finally ordering an Uber to pick you up instead— it was too late in the night for you to bother your driver. 

The closest driver will be here in fifteen minutes; you’ll spend those fifteen minutes sitting before the ocean, clothes riddled with sand and body still sobering up slowly, your shoes placed to the side as you dip your legs into the water— fifteen minutes of silence, allowing you to ponder if these people are really the ones you’ve chosen to affiliate with for half your life. 

You’ve become so entranced with the white noise of the waves that you couldn’t pick up on the approaching footsteps of another; it isn’t until the said person is sitting at your side that you’re finally snapping out of your trance. 

Beomgyu settles down beside you without a word. You watch him for a second, taking in his appearance— he must’ve been dragged here, if anything, his attire not straying from the usual sweaters and jeans— and you look away, staring back out into the horizon as silence continues to drag down between the two of you. 

“You’re not sensitive,” Beomgyu suddenly says, his voice so quiet and hesitant you almost missed it, “Or dramatic.”

You laugh humorlessly. 

“I know.”

“You deserve to feel wanted,” Beomgyu adds, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, taking in your troubled expression and distant gaze, “...And, your friends are all assholes.”

“...I know.”

It’s quiet. You’re staring down at your feet, at the waves that slowly make their way up your shins before they retreat. Tonight made everything clearer than ever— why did you ever bother to associate with those people? Family and social status was the answer, but as you sit on the beach and away from the rowdy, ruthless crowd, you realize that you feel much more comfortable where you are. 

“No one ever takes me seriously,” you say suddenly, staring at the ground and tracing shapes into the sand, “I mean, I never really gave them reason to; it was all just fun and games at first— since I was a girl, I mean. Everyone thought that because I was so obsessed with superficial things that I just didn’t have anything going on in my head, and I guess that was enough to let me become a joke to everyone. A pretty airhead who just thinks about makeup and clothes and purses.”

“I mean, I worked hard to get to where I’m at, y’know? There’s more to me than just that. I won’t deny that my parents and their wealth helped get me a lot, and I certainly won’t deny that I seriously slacked this semester, but I— I don’t know, I just wish people wouldn’t take the shit I say and do like an absolute cosmic joke sometimes; that everyone I know and surrounded myself with wasn’t so superficial and fake.”

Your mouth just began running without you realizing it, forcing you to spill everything that’s been weighing on your mind; you don’t even bother stopping yourself, refusing to glance at the boy beside you as you continue. 

“And you wanna know what the worst part is? For a while, I started to believe what they thought of me, started to play into it if it meant them… liking me more. Ugh, that sounds so pathetic, seriously. I need to get it together.” You roll your eyes, tossing your head back as you scold yourself midway through your rambling, “I thought that if I acted all cute and stupid, if I just molded myself into what they liked, they… he would choose me. Would decide to keep me around for more than just a fuck. Would reciprocate years and years of pining and pretending to be cool with him fucking around with other people— all while he got all sulky if I even mentioned other guys.”

Silence. You go quiet for a moment, hand stilling for a moment, brows knitting together as you stare at the mess you’ve made in the sand; Beomgyu opens his mouth to say something, but is swiftly cut off by the sight of you sitting up straight abruptly. 

“But I’m worth more than that, y’know? I deserve to have someone take it slow with me, to like me for who I am, to really take me seriously. Even if I act ridiculous sometimes.” You sigh, your lips twitching in a soft smile as you finally look up from the mess in the sand and at Beomgyu; his eyes meet yours, doe-like and wide as always. You laugh at his expression, and his face heats up at the sight. 

“God, I’ve been really insufferable, huh?” you laugh, looking away from him the moment you felt your heart beating a bit faster, “I just never shut up, I’ve been told it’s really annoying— I didn’t mean to dump that all on you like that.”

“It’s alright,” Beomgyu says hastily, biting at his lip and averting your gaze as he continues, “I like listening to you talk.”

Your eyes widen and his words echo through your mind, bouncing off the walls and repeating the message over and over. I like listening to you talk. 

Your mind seems to have entirely blanked out at that; how do you even respond? All you know is that your body seems to heat up entirely after a second, shivers running through your spine as you attempt miserably to find something to say, something that’ll probably shatter the mood entirely— but you can’t, and you’re stuck in a silence that grows tense as minutes pass. 

The ding of a notification sounds from your phone; the two of you are looking down at the screen that lights up, and you immediately scramble to leave the moment you read that your car is here.

“I— I have to go,” you say lamely, wincing at your accidental stutter; you don’t give Beomgyu a chance to say anything more, wiping the sand off your clothes and giving him a half-hearted wave goodbye. “See ya.”

If anyone accused you of running away like a coward, you wouldn’t even bother to deny such claims— because it’s true, and you all but sprint away in order to get out of Beomgyu’s sight, eyes frantically sweeping over the street until you finally spot your Uber, sending a small wave and getting inside quickly. 

“Sorry about the mess,” you say sheepishly, glancing down at your shoes that tracked in remnants of sand; slowly, the car begins to move, and you’re staring out the window and watching Yunjin’s beach house pass by— in the very distance, your eyes catch onto Beomgyu, who remains sitting still by the shore. 

Your mind echoes his words to you, and you’re failing miserably to push down the way your stomach seems to be filled with a flurry of butterflies, the way your face heats up and a smile threatens to break through your face. 

Fuck, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you’ve only felt something this intense one other instance, many years ago.

Fuck. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

It’s been a few weeks since Yunjin’s party; a few weeks since you stopped talking to her, a few weeks since you dropped all your snobby friends you only made for connections, a few weeks since you finally broke things off with Hueningkai. 

A few weeks since you realized that you might see Beomgyu as more than just a nerdy, pathetic loser. 

You’ve found that you have a lot more free time these days; now that you’re no longer worried about attending worthless cocktail parties or going golfing to help Yunjin impress a CEO’s son who she’s had her eye on for days, you’ve found that your life has become a lot more peaceful— or rather, boring. 

Your social life is nonexistent; what else did you expect, after cutting off practically everyone you knew? You’ve become a homebody, much more focused on your work and finding more mundane hobbies— your grades have never looked better. 

Avoiding Yunjin and anyone associated with her was simple; it was nothing, passing by her and pretending like you two never knew each other, like the two of you weren’t once attached by the hip. It never phased you to be in the same room as her, not even batting an eye when she found herself sitting a table away from you in the dining halls. 

You just wish you could say the same about Beomgyu. 

God, what the hell has gotten into you? You’ve become a fumbling, ridiculous mess, not even able to look him in the eye when you spot him in the halls, in the library, in cafes; your body heats up and words get stuck in your throat whenever he’s so much as close in proximity, always finding a way to flee as soon as possible— you don’t even bother being inconspicuous anymore. 

It was apparent to anyone who knew you that this behavior was a complete switch from your usual self— cocky, flirty, bold— and Beomgyu, who had to spend hours on end with you, knew that better than anyone. 

He’s able to spot your odd behavior immediately. Though unfortunately for him, he’s unable to come to a proper conclusion as to why you may be acting like that, and simply decides that you must be holding up your promise still; the promise to act like complete strangers, that is. 

Beomgyu frowns, staring at your back as you stand in line at the cafe across the campus library; you’re rigid, as though turning around and acknowledging the man behind you could kill you. Did you really hate him that much? He thought he made progress back at Yunjin’s party, your moment of vulnerability allowing him to see you in a completely new light— because after a moment of thought, after you fled the scene with an awkward wave and an empty smile, Beomgyu began to think; he really didn’t know anything about you. He didn’t even know your major.

All he knew about you were superficial things— and Beomgyu found himself oddly irritated by the thought, wondering if he was any better than the very people you were complaining about; it weighed his mind, finding himself prattling off to Yeonjun about it one day, laying on the couch and petting Toto absentmindedly as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“She’s an architecture major,” Yeonjun said from the kitchen, looking up from the stove and meeting Beomgyu’s surprised gaze, “Yunjin told me once that she’s been working to try and get an internship at her father’s company— starting from the bottom up and everything. Heard it’s super competitive over there.”

You were a lot more hardworking and studious than Beomgyu— or anyone, really— gave you credit for. And as he watched you recite your order to the cashier, something so convoluted that the boy wondered if it was even good, he found himself wanting to learn more about you. You stood off to the side, staring down at your phone with a concentrated pout, and he wondered if he should bite the bullet and finally attempt talking to you. 

Just as Beomgyu was mustering up the courage to say something, just as he was about to open his mouth, your name was called and you picked up your drink with a swiftness he’s never seen before, making your way out and passing Beomgyu in the blink of an eye. He’s left waiting for his drink long after, snapped out of his reverie by a text notification. 

Huh Yunjin:

im at the library rn r u coming ??

dont keep me waiting :(

Beomgyu sighs, and trudges his way to the library with a pout; the feeling is reminiscent, but he can’t help but find himself thinking that it was you he was studying with instead. He spots Yunjin’s bright head of orange hair instantly, eyes glued to her phone and brows knitted together in a soft frown— and though Beomgyu apologized for being late and asked her to start without him, she didn’t seem to bother to even get her materials out. 

Internally, Beomgyu finds himself rolling his eyes— But he’s masking that with a soft clear of his throat, his calm voice asking Yunjin to get her textbook out so they can start their session— and she finally looks up from her phone, bright eyes filled with confusion before she smiles sheepishly. 

“Oh right, the textbooks,” she murmurs, looking over at the seat next to her where she’s placed her bag, then across where Beomgyu sits; his eyes widen at the sight of her collecting her things, standing up and rounding the table before she sits next to him— before he can question what he’s doing, she scoots her chair closer to him, shoulders touching as she sends him an innocent smile. “I… forgot mine… you don’t mind if we share, right? You said you took this class last semester.”

Beomgyu can’t contain the way he lets out an exasperated breath; he pulls out his laptop, pulling up his digital copy as he mentally complains about how unprepared and demanding Yunjin always seemed to be— he can’t remember the last time she actually brought her own supplies; if anything, Beomgyu was sure she hadn’t even bought her required texts. 

And as he scrolls through the index in search of the needed chapter, he feels Yunjin leaning in closer; all under the guise of seeing the screen better, but Beomgyu knows better than to believe that her intentions are all innocent. And despite Beomgyu’s multiple attempts to scoot away from her, he quickly finds himself trapped by the girl again, frowning at the way she laughs at everything little thing he says and tugs at his sleeve when she’s confused about something. 

For a moment, Beomgyu wonders if she might actually be hitting on him— but he soon catches onto the way she peeks over his screen after each attempt to be touchy, how she glances in the same direction after every soft coo of that same nickname that makes him wince— and he follows the path of her gaze eventually, not entirely surprised at what he sees; if anything, it helps everything click together. 

Beomgyu spots you sitting two tables away, face twisted up in concentration and headphones obstructing your ears, head bobbing rhythmically as you scribble things on your notebook, glancing back at your laptop’s screen ever so often; he catches sight of numbers and equations, and he realizes that you must be working on math homework. 

Without realizing, he’s found himself staring at you; this side of you that he never saw much, private and calm and hardworking, the image you said you wished others saw in you— and, as though you could feel it, you’re looking up from your work, meeting Beomgyu’s eyes instantly and watching as he flusters and looks away; your eyes then fall onto the girl who has him backed into the corner of the table, who leans into him and glances over you with a slight quirk of her lips— she sends you a small wave, then turns back to Beomgyu, calling out his name softly. 

Undeniably curious, you lower the volume of your music slightly— you didn’t expect Yunjin to actually go through with her plans of getting Beomgyu to tutor her, and much less her lasting this long— you’re bringing up a hand to your head as subtly as you can, moving the right side of your headphone away from your ear slightly and allowing yourself to listen in to whatever it is they talk about. 

While Beomgyu attempts multiple times to tutor her and teach her materials, Yunjin can’t seem to stop steering away in a completely different direction; asking him entirely unrelated questions, blatantly flirting and acting coy as she pulls at his sweater everytime he seems hesitant to answer— the sight is slightly amusing, but you can’t deny the way it makes you wince with annoyance. 

“Today’s your day off, right?” Yunjin asks eventually, smiling widely when he nods, albeit hesitantly, “Great! You know how you said you’d take me to dinner if I got a good score on my test?” 

You hear the sound of Yunjin’s nails clicking against a screen; undoubtedly searching for something, the soft mutters of Beomgyu’s you were the one who struck up the deal, making you bite your tongue in a desperate attempt to remain inconspicuous; from the corner of your eye, you’re able to catch the way the said boy glances over at you. 

“Well… ta-da!” Yunjin squeals happily as she shoves the phone into Beomgyu’s face, allowing him to see her results for the said test. Beomgyu hums absentmindedly at the sight. 

“Your place at seven?” Yunjin grins, poking his shoulder teasingly; Beomgyu doesn’t answer, but she chooses to take that silence as a yes. “Great! I have to go actually; promised my girls I’d have brunch with them— you understand, right?” 

Instead of fumbling with his words and asking her to not leave so abruptly, Beomgyu simply nods and hums a soft uh-huh. The sight is enough to have Yunjin scoffing, slinging her purse on her shoulder and reaching over to grab Beomgyu’s chin— she tugs it and makes him face her, the action so sudden that his eyes widen drastically— and she smiles, squishing his cheeks teasingly and pouting at his distant behavior. 

“Don’t get all pouty with me— I’ll see you soon ‘kay?” before Beomgyu can even process anything, Yunjin leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling her lipstick transfer onto his skin— he’s slightly dazed, reaching up immediately to place a hand over the spot, staring at Yunjin with furrowed brows; she simply laughs and waves at him one final time, practically skipping out from how giddy she seemed.

From a distance, you watch Beomgyu quietly reach for his bag, his expression blank as he pulls out a tissue and his phone; you watch him use his front camera as a mirror, wiping at the lipstick with a soft frown. 

From a distance, you laugh to yourself— the distaste that appears on his face is obvious to you, and you can’t help but shake your head at Yunjin’s ridiculous behavior; god, was that what you looked like whenever you would bail on him mid-session? The very thought was terribly humbling to you. 

Yunjin’s attempts to get back at you by using Beomgyu were more than obvious; you think back to her actions, the way she blatantly flirted with him, the plans she suddenly tacked on him— on his day off, not to mention— and you roll your eyes, deciding that you might as well put an end to all these dramatics; not just for your sake, but for Beomgyu’s as well. 

  ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  

Beomgyu is groaning to himself the moment he hears a sharp knock on his door— the last thing he wanted to do on his day off was spend his time entertaining a girl who was clearly using him for some odd, petty reasons— but he got ready nonetheless, texted Yunjin his address hours prior after being told that her driver would come pick him up, (he hadn’t gotten a response in relation to that message, but she’ll probably see it soon) and waited patiently on the couch, albeit much earlier than the proposed plans. 

Another sharp knock— Beomgyu wishes he had some proper excuse for her, told her that he already had plans with his roommate, but the said man was off on his shift already— he trudges over to the door, twisting the doorknob with a heavy reluctance, and sighs. He braces himself as he swings open the door to greet Yunjin with a halfhearted smile. 

“Hey,” you pant instead, leaning against the doorway and ignoring his confused— and shocked— expression, “I— am I late? I thought I was early, did you get ready early?” 

You gulp; since when could Beomgyu clean up so nicely? He’s forgone his usual, comfortable and casual outfits in favor of a perfectly pressed button up and a clean hairstyle— Yunjin must’ve planned to take him to quite the expensive place, you think to yourself. 

“Of course you’d be the type to get ready an hour early,” you mutter bitterly to yourself, the comment enough to have the said man glancing at the nearest clock in confusion— and just like you said, a bright six o’clock greeted him on the digital clock. 

“You— what’re you doing here?” Beomgyu stutters pathetically, unable to do much but relent to the way you step inside, closing the door behind him and turning around to face you, “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Yeah well, I lied.” you simply say, the words confusing the poor man even more, “I came to tell you to cancel your plans with Yunjin.” 

“Can— huh?” he searches your expression for the traces of a joke, but finds that you’re dead serious. “Why would I cancel? That’s rude.”

“Jesus, can’t you see?!” You say exasperatedly, reaching out to place your hands on Beomgyu’s shoulders, fingers digging in so he can look at you— it’s only when he finally does that you continue. “She doesn’t want to do this— she’s using you. She’s doing this to get back at me.”

“But why would she…” Beomgyu utters, and you wonder with a roll of your eyes where that boy genius of yours went. 

“Beomgyu,” you start, the sound foreign to the said boys ears as he blinks at you owlishly. You bite at your lip, brows furrowing at you think over what to say— you start again, but your words are hesitant and muddled. “She’s using you because she’s petty and because… because…” 

He gives you a look encouraging you to continue.

“Because— god, are you really gonna make me say this?!” you break, letting go of his shoulders and taking a step back— your face feels like it’s on fire and your stomach feels like it’s been twisted into knots, your hands clammy as you glance over at Beomgyu again— and he looks at you with the most stupid, oblivious expression known to mankind. 

You take a quick, deep breath, and you start again. 

“Choi Beomgyu. She’s using you because I…” you say sternly, reaching over suddenly to grab his face, cupping his cheeks and taking in the way he becomes red at your touch. You bring him close to you, pressing your lips in a fine line and hesitating before you observe his face— and god, he looks so pathetic and lost that you don’t even seem to mind the way the next words tumble out of you, fluid and clear and true. 

“Because I like you.”

Silence. You’re waiting anxiously in response, looking into Beomgyu’s eyes in anticipation, but all he does is stare. He stares and stares and stares, and for the first time in a while, you’re unsure of what to make of this reaction. 

“And I’m not lying either.”

Still nothing. His skin is warming up under your fingertips, and his mouth opens hesitantly to say something, only to close again— he must still doubt you, so you decide to take a leap of faith and reassure him the only way you know how.

“I think you’re cute and kinda pathetic in an endearing way, I think that those glasses really compliment your face and make your eyes look super doll-like, and I don’t really mind Toto. I think he’s still a bit weird to look at but I love that you love him, and it makes total sense to me that out of all the pets you could’ve had you decided to get a big freaky green bird of all things, and I think it’s super cute that you’re attached to him— I think you look kinda hot when you get frustrated on a problem, and I think it’s really hard to hold myself back from kissing you when you start stuttering at me like an idiot— also, it’s really not that bad that you play League of Legends, and I can’t believe I’m gonna admit this, but I started playing it myself and it’s not that bad— but that’s not the point, what I’m saying is that you’re— you’re a nerd and a loser but I don’t mind because I really— fuck, I really like—”

His lips are mashing onto yours before you can process his sudden movement, rough and sloppy and desperate that all you can do is slide your hands into his hair and pull him closer; his hands wrap around you in response, one on the small of your back and the other against the back of your head as he pulls you closer still, close until your bodies are pressed flush together. 

The two of you are so rough with your movements that he’s stumbling back, knocking against the wall and groaning softly at the impact; you’re sneaking your tongue into his parted lips, listening to the way he pants and moans against your mouth, slotting a leg between his and feeling as his thigh is quick to retaliate and press against your core. 

“Mghh– ugh, fuck,” you moan mindlessly, feeling his hand press against the small of your back, forcing you to arch and push your weight onto his strong muscle, allowing yourself to rock against it desperately; your mind is running a million miles an hour, pulling away from his lips breathlessly and staring at the gloss that has transferred onto him; his eyes look dazed, lips parted and in need for more as he tries to lead your head back to his. 

“Can’t believe she tried to use you against me,” you mutter, going back in to press quick, chaste kisses all along his face; he curls in shyly at the gesture, weakly grasping at your clothes as he feels the way you begin to trail them along his jaw, sucking and biting until you’re seeing the beginnings of marks that will bloom there, “shame it didn’t work— cause you’re all mine, right gyu?”

Like clockwork, he nods; his face heats up and he feels a bit ashamed at how quickly he’s melted under your hold, but any embarrassment is washed away the moment he feels your hand begin to fumble with his belt, clumsily undoing it before you’re moving to undo his jeans. 

“Wait,” you breathe against his neck, feeling him shiver softly; he’s confused, whining softly at the sudden loss of touch until he’s watching as you pull away, glancing behind your shoulder before you’re meeting his eyes with a blank expression, “take me to your room.”

For a second, he’s confused about the sudden switch of your behavior— but then he’s looking over your shoulder and right at the direction you glanced at, a sudden laugh breaking through him when he spots Toto in the corner; sheepishly, he nods. 

“Okay,” he says, smiling shyly at the way you reach out for the hand placed on the small of your back, intertwining your fingers so naturally it’s almost instinct, “yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

He watches you kick off your shoes and allows you to lead him straight to his room— he’s surprised you even remembered where it is— and smiles at the way you tug him closer by the collar the moment you step inside, palms pressing flat on his chest and making him walk backwards until his knees are hitting the edge of the bed— he falls back, hair splaying prettily on his sheets as he looks up at you with expectant, adoring eyes. 

You’re straddling him immediately after; planting your core directly on his prominent bulge, taking in the way he lets out a broken whimper at the feeling of your heat pressing against him so well— his hands fly to your waist, fingers weakly digging into the meat of your hips as he attempts to subtly buck up into you; you tsk, shaking your head and leaning down to place a hand firm on his chest. 

“Bad pup,” you say softly, hovering above his lips and watching as he desperately chases them, “You need to be patient, okay?”

He nods frantically, eyes fluttering shut the moment you press your lips against him slowly, feeling the way he desperately seeks to taste you— you allow him to, wandering hands beginning to unbutton his pristine white shirt slowly as he remains distracted. 

Beomgyu is a lot more fit than you expected; lean muscle greeting you the moment you slip his shirt off his shoulders, leaning up to let him take it off and raking your nails down his skin— his stomach flinches at your nails scratch at it, and you smile childishly at the sight, the action reminiscent to the first time you got your hands on him. 

“So pretty…” you mumble to yourself, tracing a path along his chest, down to his navel, watching as he shivers at your touch; a shaky gasp escapes his lips, hands grabbing at his sheets and eyes fluttering shut as he fights back the urge to buck up into you again— your eyes flicker up to study his expression, titling your head curiously as a smile tugs at your lips. 

“You’re so pretty, Beomgyu,” you say again, leaning down to plant soft kisses along his neck, beginning to trail down until you’re at his chest— you’re able to watch the way his skin flushes a soft pink at your words, shy gaze averting quickly the moment you’re looking back up at him— and you laugh softly to yourself, hovering over his lap and trailing a hand down as you begin to undo his pants with ease. 

“Y’know, I’ve never seen you so dressed up before,” you comment offhandedly, taking a moment to observe his pristine clothes, his styled hair— and your jaw clenches at the thought of Yunjin seeing him like this, an inkling of jealousy beginning to rear its ugly head the longer you think about it; you’re tugging at his pants, watching as his hips lift to help you tug them down more, and scoff at your wandering thoughts. 

“Bet you would’ve loved to have her attention on you, hmm?” you say, beginning to roll your hips against his the moment he opens his mouth to protest— a sharp moan leaves Beomgyu instead, mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt grinding against his, the only thing separating the two of you being your thin panties and his boxers that are quickly becoming ruined; his eyes flicker down to where you continue to roll your hips, the sight of your skirt riding up and bunching up at your thighs enough to have his cock twitch. 

“Just can’t control yourself when you’re with a cute girl— just can’t say no,” Beomgyu’s hips jump and he lets out a long whine at a particularly harsh roll of your hips, feeling his cock slot perfectly against your cunt, the material of your panties soaked and sticking to your pussy, able to feel you better the more pressure you add; his hands fly to your hips once more, but instead of trying to guide your pace, they simply remain there, grabbing at your skirt and fisting the material in his hands, flushed face and shining eyes begging silently for more. 

“No— can’t, can’t say no— ah!” Beomgyu begins, unable to speak properly with the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of your warm cunt on his aching cock, “can’t say no to you… fuck…”

His words are enough to catch you off guard; your pace is stuttering and your eyes are widening, the brief pause enough to give Beomgyu enough confidence to continue— his eyes are glassy as he stares up at you, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles on your hips as he speaks. 

“Could never say no to you…” he says softly, face reddening as he continues, “you’re too pretty to say no to.”

He doesn’t quite meet your gaze after that; he’s too shy to, but with the way you immediately begin to undress before him after a moment, he’s sure that he must’ve flipped a switch inside you. 

“God, you’re so cute…” you mutter, throwing your shirt off in a random direction before you’re sliding your skirt off— and Beomgyu is growing flustered at the sight again, practically malfunctioning from seeing your body for the first time. 

You’re left in only your underwear when you finally decide you’ve had enough of his shyness, grabbing his face with a firm hand and turning it to look back at you; your nails dig into his plush cheeks and his eyes grow wide at the gesture, meeting your eyes as you simply give him a coy smile and a peck to his lips. 

“So pathetic too,” you continue, watching his adam’s apple bob at your condescending words, “I love it.” 

You lean close to his ear; slowly, you take his hands and begin guiding them along your body, feeling the way his breath hitches and his chest begins to take shallow breaths, shaky fingertips grazing against your skin, up your biceps until you’re leading him to your back, straight to your bra strap.

“Undo it,” you murmur against the shell of his ear, able to listen to the way he gulps softly; nervous hands fiddle with the clasp, the way you place chaste kisses to the spot behind his ear not helping in the slightest— and after a moment, you’re finally able to feel the garment loosening around you, along with a soft sigh the boy lets out. 

The straps slip off your shoulders slowly, and with a coy smile, you make a show of discarding your bra, sitting back and watching as Beomgyu’s face turns impossibly red; his eyes are wide and his hands are frozen, unsure of what to do as you simply huff at the sight— and your hands are taking his once more, guiding them slowly until he’s cupping your breasts; he gulps again, and you pout at the sight. 

“Don’t you wanna touch me?” you pout, tilting your head and watching as the man underneath you remains reliant on your instructions to do anything; his eyes snap back up to meet yours at your words, shaking his head softly and opening his mouth to stutter protests.

“I– I do, I do,” he says, licking his lips nervously before looking back down at your breasts, thumbs experimentally swiping across your nipples; you shiver at the feeling, the sight of even your smallest reactions making Beomgyu’s cock ache, “I just… I’m not sure what to do….what you’d like.” 

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, absentmindedly guiding his hands to touch and caress your breasts just how you like, your back aching slightly at the stimulation, “I can teach you.” 

“Please,” Beomgyu whines out, hands finally beginning to move on their own as a smile grows on your face, watching the way looks at you with needy, fucked out eyes, “Please, wanna make you feel good.” 

“Do you now?” you tease, titling your head and raising a brow at him questioningly; he nods his head fervently, eyes filled with an undeniably desire that leads him to take your body in hungrily, trailing from your chest down until he stops right at your cunt thats pressed so perfectly against him. 

His line of sight is terribly obvious— though you don’t think it was Beomgyu’s intention to hide his desires anyway, not with the way your back is suddenly colliding against his bed, a gasp escaping you the moment you feel warm hands prying your legs open; you’re propping yourself up with your elbows, wide eyes meeting Beomgyu’s; the said man kneels on the floor and is now at eye level with your soaked cunt— his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, and with a soft laugh, you realize that Beomgyu is yet again waiting for further instructions. 

“Can I taste you?” He asks meekly, eyes shining behind the lenses of his glasses, the sight endearing and a complete switch from the words that leave his mouth, “will you let me?”

Silence— all he gets in response is a slow sigh, the boy peeking through his lashes to get a gauge of your expression; he gulps at the sight of your narrowed eyes and pinched brows, mind undoubtedly thinking of scenarios that sour your mood— but the sight of you like this is much too tempting, and Beomgyu will be damned if he doesn’t get to lose himself in your pussy at least once; his cock pathetically twitches at the mere thought. 

“I don’t know puppy,” you murmur, sneering at the way he pouts immediately, strong hands tugging at you and pulling you towards him more, body sliding at the movement— and though you can feel him breathe against your clothed cunt, he still refrains from doing anything, waiting loyally for your okay with pleading eyes. 

“Do you think you deserve it?” you ask, throwing a leg over his shoulder, digging the heel of your foot in between his shoulder blades roughly— he practically keens at the feeling, a poorly stifled whimper escaping him, followed by a shaky sigh, “after seeing the way you’ll give anyone who approaches you all your attention like a slut, I don’t think you do.” 

You make sure to punctuate your words with another dig of your heel, but Beomgyu remains unaffected— if anything, it manages to spur him on more, and you’re left to pretend as though his next actions don’t leave you terribly weak. 

“Please…” he whispers, the sound so soft you barely miss it— he’s pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, lips lingering on the skin before he looks back up to meet your gaze; his eyes are glazed with nothing but need. The single word continues to leave him like a mantra, unable to do anything more than watch as he begins to litter kisses all over your inner thighs, soft begs slowly increasing their intensity the longer you deny him. 

I deserve it, I do; please, please let me make you feel good, promise you’re the only one for me— please? Please, please please please…

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of Beomgyu’s broken, repetitive begging— his hair brushes against your sensitive skin that has been peppered with endless kisses, and if it weren’t for the way Beomgyu’s eyes were beginning to become watery from his desperation, you would’ve allowed yourself to enjoy the show a little more. 

“You want it that much?” you seethe, a hand going down to tangle itself in his long hair— and, just as expected, he lets out a broken whine, followed with an immediate, breathy “yes” that affects you much more than you let on, “Go on then.” 

You’re guiding his head to your cunt without another word, fingers still entangled tightly in the roots of his hair; he begins with a soft kiss to your cunt, the sight making you roll your eyes— for someone so eager, he sure was hesitant. 

His tongue is hot and heavy against your clit; he’s running the tip of it along your slit, listening to the hitch of your breath and taking in every miniscule reaction you provide— he’s teasing you, albeit unintentionally, and the realization has you tightening your hold on his roots in warning; you feel the way he lets out a shaky breath at the action, and soon after, his fingers are tugging at the waistband of your panties, making slow work to properly take them off. 

Beomgyu’s every movement is feather-like and hesitant; it’s clear he’s testing out the waters, unsure of what to do in order to please you— and while a part of you is endeared at the messy kitten licks of his tongue and the way he circles your clit sloppily, the other part of you seems to be feeling much more unforgiving— you’re tugging his hair and telling him to look at you with a harsh voice. 

“What happened to wanting to please me? To deserving this?” you mock, lips quirking to a satisfied smile the moment his face heats up, ears tinting a soft red, “are you too much of a virgin to know how to eat a girl out?”

His face turns a bright red and he remains silent— you can only manage a bewildered laugh at the sight. 

Of course, how did you not piece it together before? It seems as though you were much too generous to give him the benefit of the doubt before, because as you stare Beomgyu down with a gaze that’s nothing short of predatory, you’ve realized that his silence tells you more than enough; He’s a total virgin. 

“Oh, you don’t know anything, do you?” you coo softly, letting go of Beomgyu’s scalp to caress his face softly, a grin threatening to break through your face from the simple sight of the man melting into your touch, “you need me to guide you through it?” 

With a shaky sigh, Beomgyu nods— it barely takes a moment before you’re pushing at the back of his head and guiding him back to your cunt. 

He didn’t bother to take off his glasses; you didn’t bother to remind him, smiling cruelly as you murmur soft instructions to him, telling him to suck on your clit or guiding his mouth to lick at your entrance, responding with soft sighs of pleasure whenever he does something particularly well; he’s sloppy, inexperienced, and undeniably nervous, but you suppose he makes up for its with his eagerness to do well as he continues, slowly taking note of what makes your hips buck and your fingers tighten against his hair— and after a few minutes, you’re no longer instructing Beomgyu step by step, but instead throwing your head back and letting your mouth fall open with unabashed moans. 

Beomgyu’s eagerness is abundant and blatant. He’s pressing his face against your cunt after having gained confidence, mouth sloppy and hanging open as he allows you to grind against him, feeling his glasses slip down the tall bridge of his nose and fog up with every pant of breath— but he finds that he doesn’t really mind, eyes fluttering shut and lips circling around your clit as he hones in to the sounds you make instead. 

You think Beomgyu’s head is completely empty at this point; his fingers dig into your thighs and he continues his attempts to bring you closer against his face, greedy mouth drinking up any arousal that slips from your entrance before he’s fucking you with his tongue— your hips buck unintentionally against him at that, and from the way he only increases his efforts even further, you think he might’ve enjoyed that. 

“Beomgyu— puppy, fuck,” you hiss, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the way his nose is now pressed against your clit from how close he’s attempting to get to you. Your chest heaves and you can feel a tight knot forming in your stomach, body beginning to become restless as Beomgyu remains unfazed at your sudden squirming— you’re close, so close, and Beomgyu wants nothing more than to feel you fall apart against his face. 

“Shit– right there, just like that— don’t stop, god, fuck—!” Your eyes are screwed shut as a sudden wave of pleasure breaks through you, your hand pulling at Beomgyu’s hair and your heel digging sharply into his back as you cum; the boy only lets out a pathetic whine at the feeling of you rolling your hips smoothly against his face, mouth left ajar and eyes fluttering shut as he lets you use him, riding it out with twitchy legs and soft moans. 

Beomgyu only moves after your grip slips from his head entirely; your whole body is falling slack, a deep sigh escaping you as you attempt to catch your breath, eyes bleary and slowly opening after a moment— you’re able to watch as the said boy goes to stand, a weak hand of yours stopping his motion and grabbing at his shoulder— and you’re guiding him to hover over you, smiling coyly at the wrecked sight of him. 

His glasses are completely skewed— a slight heat burns at your face from the sight, but it’s all washed away by the lopsided smile Beomgyu gives you, entirely unaware of his flushed and messy appearance; gently, you reach out to slip off his glasses, putting them off to the side as you reach to adjust his mused hair next— he merely watches your face with doe eyes as you brush his hair away gently, tucking it behind his ear before you cup his jaw, tugging him down to kiss you again.

“You’re sure you wanna do this?” you mumble against his lips, hands absentmindedly running along his skin soothingly, lips beginning to wander off as you trail soft pecks against his jawline, smiling at the way he doesn’t hesitate to nod, “you want it?”

“Need it,” Beomgyu whines, letting out a shaky breath as he grabs your hand, guiding it down his chest slowly, adding pressure once you’ve reached the bulge of his boxers— you can feel the way he twitches the moment you touch him, gulping softly before the continues to plead, “need it, need to feel you.” 

His voice is sweet and soft in your ears, and you find that you can’t really bring yourself to put up a front and resist; it’s physically impossible to, especially with the way he ruts his cock against your hand, leaking pathetically and twitching at even the slightest stimulation.

Beomgyu’s attempts to remain calm and collected falls apart the moment you relent, face red and eyes wide with anticipation the moment he feels your hand go to pull his cock out; he falters above you for a split second, teeth sinking into his lip to suppress a whine that builds up in his throat. But his attempts are futile as always, a broken whimper leaving him the moment you press the head of his cock against your cunt, tightening around the shaft and proceeding to run it along your slit teasingly. 

He’s practically panting above you, fingers gripping onto the sheets as he allows you to toy with him, eyes glassy and meeting yours as you simply coo mockingly at him, teasing him for being nothing but a toy for you to use.

The moment you press his tip against your entrance, the two of you tense; a shaky sigh escapes you at the stretch, looking up at Beomgyu and whispering for him to just put it in already; and he swallows, eyes watering at the feeling of him finally pushing into you— warm, wet walls that flutter around him, stretching and adjusting to his size; your hips that jolt with every inch he slides in, eyes widening and mouth falling open as you try to contain your composure— but his size is no joke, and curses leaves your mouth endlessly at the feeling of him filling you up.

“God— you’re so… so warm, so tight,” Beomgyu cries above you, hips stuttering and making him push himself deeper into you; a yelp escapes you at the feeling, hips pressed flushed against his as you stare up at him with wide eyes, cunt clenching at the anticipation of him fucking you. 

But he simply remains still, and you’re just about to complain for him to move when you catch sight of his expression, screwed up into concentration as he lets out a deep breath— probably trying not to cum, you muse to yourself— and he sits up, no longer hovering over you as his hands move to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles on the skin as he looks down where the two of you connect; he looks up at you, puppy eyes begging for one thing. 

“You— you can move,” you breathe out, cringing slightly at the weak sound of your voice, the way you trip over your words; Beomgyu nods, sighing shakily again before he finally begins to move, slowly pulling out until the only thing you feel is his tip catching at your entrance— then he thrusts back in, and you don’t bother to swallow down the moan that manifests from that. 

Beomgyu isn’t faring any better than you; his brows are knitted together and his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips, voice pitchy and whiny as he attempts to fuck you properly— but his thrusts are sloppy and rough, and it seems as though he’s too concentrated on the feeling of you around him to find a good pace. 

You’re opening your mouth to tease him about it, only to get cut off at the feeling of him bumping his cock against your sweet spot; a whine leaves you unexpectedly, the sound accompanied with the feeling of your legs attempting to wrap around his waist to pull him in enough to snap him out of his pussy drunk daze. He’s drinking up your expression, his pace slowing down enough to allow him to search for that spot again— it takes a few attempts, but once he catches onto it, he doesn’t relent. 

“Sh–shit, just like that,” you whine, his thrust becoming more calculated as he begins to take note of what makes you feel good once more— though it’s still slightly sloppy and uneven, his weak pants and pitchy whines enough to tell you that his mind is much too hazy to care.

Absentmindedly, your hand snakes down to circle at your clit in search of more stimulation— only to get it knocked away roughly by Beomgyu’s, eyes widening at the action until he’s replacing you hand with his— and though you wish you could make fun of him for being such a desperate bitch, the stimulation has your voice getting caught in your throat.  

“Does— does this feel good?” Beomgyu suddenly asks, puppy eyes watering and glazed as he picks up his pace, one hand gripping onto your waist while the other continues to rub your clit, “Am I– ah… am I doing good?”

You almost miss the last part with how softly he says it— but once you process his question, you let out a breathy laugh, biting at your lip in an attempt to suppress the smile that tugs at your face; you fail miserably, but all the patronizing look in your eyes does is make Beomgyu’s cock twitch inside you a bit. 

“Does my stupid puppy need something? Need my approval?” you ask, pouting at the way he hesitates to answer, “I won’t know unless you tell me, baby.” 

The pet names are enough to have Beomgyu short-circuiting again; his face feels hot and he lets out a petulant whine at the way you continue to tease, ignoring his pleading look as you reach up to cup his jaw, cooing his name so sweetly he’s unable to be ashamed at how easily he breaks. 

“Tell me I’m doing good,” he whines, and you simply smile at him, stuttered breaths and soft moans the only thing leaving your lips as you notice the increased sloppiness of his thrusts, his erratic voice and face that slowly nears yours, hovering over you as he speaks.

“I’m— ‘m good, right? Your…” he trails off, punctuating his next word with a harsh, deep thrust that has you yelping, “your good boy— tell me, tell me I’m good, just wanna hear you say it, ah, wanna be good for you.” 

He’s a babbling, whining mess, hiding his face in your neck immediately after the words escape him— and with a request so sweet, how could you ever deny him?

“So good for me,” you immediately respond, listening to the muffled whimpers as he buries his head deeper into your neck, wandering lips sucking and biting at the skin, “good little pup— fuck, are you close? Gonna fill me up?” 

You feel the way he nods frantically against you, his hand leaving your hip to circle under your back, pulling you flush against him as he continues his rough, haphazard thrusts— and you turn your head to face him, pressing a kiss to his head before you lean in close to his ear, the sounds of your breathy moans and sweet voice enough to bring him over the edge. 

“C’mon, cum for me puppy,” you coo, listening to the long whimper he lets out in response, hips stilling and pressing flush against yours as he follows your command, warm cum filling you up as he rides out his orgasm, cock rutting subtly into you all the while, “that’s it— such a good boy, so perfect to me.” 

His chest heaves against yours; his other arm comes up to sneak under your body as well, successfully hugging you close against him, bodies pressed together and practically one with how tightly he’s got you in his grip— his cock remains inside you all the while, head nuzzled deeply in the space of your neck as you merely let out an amused huff, giving him a moment to catch his breath before you tease him again. 

The moment of peace between the two of you is cut by the abrasive sound of his phone ringing, the two of you looking at the source with furrowed brows; neither of you make a move to get it, watching it continue to vibrate on the bed before it goes silent— you’re both falling back against the bed the moment in bliss the moment the ringtone disappears, and you can feel Beomgyu’s arms tightening around you even more, not expecting him to be so openly clingy—

“You didn’t cum,” Beomgyu suddenly gasps, head popping up from his hiding place as he hovers over you with wide eyes. You simply reassure him that it’s alright, already feeling your body get heavy with exhaustion— but he isn’t having it, shaking his head and standing back up as he looks at you with an unbelievably solemn expression, wincing softly as he pulls out of you, “No, I wanna make you cum— wanna feel you cum on my dick, wanna make you feel good.” 

The words sound clumsy coming from him, oddly shy to say what he wants out loud— and it makes you laugh, attempting to tell him that you really don’t mind when you’re getting interrupted by the annoying sound of his phone ringing. 

“Seriously, who the hell is…” you’re trailing off as you watch Beomgyu’s eyes widen, leaning over to snatch his phone as he reads the contact name, his horrified expression telling you all you need to know. 

“Don’t answer it,” you seethe, ignoring the way he stutters about how he totally forgot to cancel, feeling a hot anger bubble in your stomach as he talks about how bad he feels for not communicating properly, “Beomgyu, don’t answer it!” 

“I— what if she’s waiting outside right now—?!”

Your movements are much too sudden and swift for him to process; he can only watch and allow you to snatch the phone away from him, rough hands gripping his shoulders and hissing at him to fucking sit; he’s quick to comply, and you’re even quicker to climb onto his lap and situate yourself just how you like— he cries softly at the feeling of you grabbing at his sensitive cock, stroking it for a moment and aligning it with your entrance before you’re sinking down on him slowly. 

“Who cares if she’s outside right now,” you scowl, digging your fingers in his cheeks and forcing him to look at you, swollen lips red and pouty as he merely whines at the feeling of you rocking slowly against him, “it’s the least we could do to get back at her for trying to fucking use you.”

His protests die down once you pick up your pace; oh, his face practically screams, eyes glazing over at the feeling of your warm pussy using his sensitive cock to get yourself off, soft cries leaving him as he merely watches you begin to ride him expertly, already feeling himself get hard inside you, the sight of you on top of him and the sounds of skin against skin riling him much more than expected.

“Hnng, wait, slow down please—!” he whines softly, hands flying to your hips yet making no attempts to control the pace— and you can only laugh at him, the sounds of his soft cries enough to encourage you more. 

You’re close— so, so close, and all Beomgyu can do is sit and take it, tears of sensitivity pricking at his eyes and falling along his cheeks the moment he feels your walls clench against him— but he’d rather die than stop you, sp entranced with the sight of your face twisted with pleasure that his body screams at him to do what he can to make you feel good. 

Like instinct, your hand tangles itself in Beomgyu’s hair the moment he latches his lips against your nipple, back arching and the tight knot in your stomach falling apart the moment his wandering hand goes to play with your clit; the way your walls spasm and hug him tightly is enough to have Beomgyu cumming inside you again, a pathetic keen sounding from him as he buries his head in your chest, beyond sensitive with the way you continue to ride your orgasm long after.

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of your panting and Beomgyu’s soft whimpers— but it doesn’t last long, a tired groan escaping you at the sound of Beomgyu’s phone ringing again; without much of a thought, you reach for it and finally answer. 

“Leave him alone. He’s busy.” 

You hang up immediately after— the girl on the other side didn’t get the chance to utter a single word, and you find that you couldn’t care less as you toss his phone to the side and look over at Beomgyu— you’re smiling softly at the way he seems mortified at your action. 

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel bad,” you sigh, placing your hands on his chest and pushing, gently guiding the two of you to lay down— he remains inside you as he pulls you in close, your limbs heavy and tangling quickly as he mutters a soft no, I don’t; you smile. “Good. Cause I almost got mad again.”

He chuckles softly at that, falling quiet after; you look up at him to gauge his expression, finding that he’s lost in thought. After a few minutes, he meets your eyes meekly and finally speaks. 

“Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

A pause. You said a lot of things earlier— but as you retract on every little thing that's come from your mouth, you realize what he’s talking about— and you laugh, reaching to cup his cheeks fondly as you nod. 

“Of course I did,” you grin, pecking his lips, your heart fluttering wildly at the way he immediately chases after you for more after you pull away, “I meant all of it— and more.” 

Softly, he smiles. His arms that were wrapped around you pull you in close, closing the space between you and bringing you in for a slow, sweet kiss— he pulls away, leaning into your ear to whisper something with a coy smile. 

“So do you wanna play League of Legends later?”

You let out an annoyed yell and punch at his chest— you practically fuck his brains out, and this is all he can say?

“You’re such a fucking loser,” you mourn, hiding your face in your hands. 

Beomgyu laughs, and places a kiss on the top of your head. 

“But I’m your loser,” he says sweetly, nuzzling against your hair with a content sigh, “all yours.”

Under the covers of your hands, you smile. 

All yours. You like the sound of that.