#wow. he kinda sucks. like not even just in a loser way but in like. yep! thats a human! way

[lecliss]

Just realized Vincent's character can kinda be summed up as "i can fix her" and horrendously failing

[whetstonefires]

I am a bit surprised at your tags saying you like jar jar, I don't really know anybody who's a fan in 2023. What's the appeal there, would you say?

Did people like JarJar more in the past? I remember when the prequels were new, his poor actor almost died from the harassment. Surely the venom against JarJar has only weakened.

But mmmmm...I guess what I enjoy about JarJar is he just. He sucks so bad. Nobody has any use for him. He's not just bad at emergencies and space and knowing you have to pay for food, he's not even good at Gungan-ing.

But he's just kinda allowed to be like that. He's there. The other protagonists are varying levels of Ugh Why but they don't try to solve him. He gets Recognition From His People at the end of TPM and fails his way upward in galactic politics and has good intentions and tries sincerely and fucks up so so bad, and is dumb as hell.

He doesn't get punished by the story for being a loser. He's allowed.

That's what made so many people so mad at him back when, and I do get it because any scene he's in is hard to take seriously, he's walking bathos, he's like Original Swamp Yoda without the redeeming kung fu drama. But also wow yikes no.

Let me sit with this a bit and let me see if I can turn this vibe into words better.

Like @husborth was totally correct in saying the whole Gungan plotline was a waste of screentime, a fun little excuse plot allowed to run riot due to unchecked directorial hubris, and contributed to the prequel films being atrociously paced pieces of cinema. But (somewhat consequently) there's something luxurious about JarJar Binks being allowed to go around existing so much, something I think is prototypical of the whole prequel tone and its contrast to the snappy war-film energy of the original trilogy in a way that...really works to create the atmospheric contrast between life in the Republic and life under the Empire.

The Republic was a bloated ancient mess of a government riddled with corruptions, and badly out-of-whack power balances and decayed support nets that weren't technically corruption but weren't working well either, and inefficiency.

And also what the fascists like to call decadence. You know?

Like one of the consequences of having a tolerant diverse society is that even when poorly run and afflicted with capitalism it is going to be full of fantastically annoying weirdos who don't have anything better to do than embarrass people by talking, and there's nothing to be done about that that morally can be. You can't Force Choke people for annoying and have a free society. We all gotta make our peace with the fact that JarJar Binks has every right to exist.

Not that JarJar Binks is necessary to any specific piece of media. I am not advocating for annoying gag sidekicks in general. But I am saying that JarJar Binks is metaphorically inevitable, whenever people are allowed to just kinda be.

So his presence on some level feels political to me, inasmuch as Star Wars are actually political films at all, which isn't very much. But definitely not none either!

Also I am old enough to have grown less susceptible to secondhand embarrassment so I am able to forgive JarJar his cringe. He can still be a little painful to watch! But I do like that he's there.

[etherealily]

🇭​​🇦​​🇷​​🇩​ ​🇨​​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​​🇾​ ~ ​🇫​​🇪​​🇱​​🇮​​🇽​ ​🇨​​🇦​​🇹​​🇹​​🇴​​🇳​

Felix Catton + fem! reader. SFW, but discretion advised, drugs, alcohol. Dark.

Part 2 : Sour Candy

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You've known him way too long.

════════════════════ ⋆🪽⋆ ════════════════════

JUNIOR YEAR, 2004

There was nothing louder than a house full of drunk, horny and high high school kids after the last day before summer break.

"You should take off that coat, ya know? It's a party, and the thermostat's on."

"I can't."

He raised a brow, scoffing as he took a shot. "Why not? You're in your pajamas?"

"Yeah." Felix had dragged you out of your home at three a.m for this. Three. In. The. Morning.

"What? Do they have like, cute little bunnies on them, or sm'n?"

Oh, he'd like that, wouldn't he?

"They're these... really tiny shorts and a tank top, and I-"

"Jesus, you fucking prude!", he groaned, frustrated. "You're worried about being too revealing? It's a fucking high school party - it's kinda the dress code!"

Well, okay, asshole. "Oh, yeah? Then why are you fully-"

He didn't even let you finish, as he took off his shirt and threw it on the ground. "There. Now take off your coat, you fucking square."

You took it off, taking the shot he pressed up to your lips, too. "Fuck." It shot through you like it had a vendetta.

"Right?", he snickered, nodding at you to take another. "Fucking crazy shit, man."

"BODY SHOTS!" It was like they were all trying to prove your point about the world's loudest thing being horny kids hopped up on drugs by making your eardrums bleed.

Felix swivelled his head over to you, an excited, mischeivous glint in his eye.

"No. No, Felix, no, I-"

"Don't be a fucking hard-arse, Y/N. You'd be labelled a loser."

"Better to be a loser than take part in this..."

"If you say debauchery, I'm going to kick you out."

You were, but not anymore.

"Look, the way I see it, you've got two choices. One, you let me do body shots off you. Two, I whisk you away right now and drop you back home..."

Wait, that seemed like a solid plan-

"...but not your bedroom. Your front doorstep, wherever it is. I introduce myself to your parents. Offer to sell them drugs. How's that sound?"

"You're such a cunt."

"Wow, creative. C'mon, up you get.", he instructed, folding his arms after pointing to the kitchen island.

"No."

"Okay, fine, you wanna do shots off me?"

That'd be far less embarrassing.

"Sure."

He shook his head, amused, as he hoisted himself onto the table, in the centre of the horde of cheering jocks and preps. You'd be lying if you said you weren't excited for the maturity that came with college.

"NO! No, just Y/N!", he ordered, shooing everyone else away.

Shut the fuck up. But it was too late. Everyone saw you.

You watched him grab the lime that someone brought to his mouth with his teeth, crane his neck slightly so that they could dab some sugar there, and then you watched the whole party - at least, those inside the house and not in the backyard with the kegs or snorting lines - turn eagerly to you.

"Go on, Y/N, don't be shy."

He huffed as you hesitated. "How would your dad feel if I sold him meth?", he asked, removing the lime and raising a brow at you.

Fuck. You leaned over, licking the sugar crystals off his neck, the mouth-watering taste immediately being soured as you sucked up and licked the trail of tequila someone had poured into his navel, and finally, sucked the lime from his lips, shuddering in the tang.

Cheers.

"Good girl, love, that was perfect, for a first timer."

As always, he'd forgotten about every time he'd forced you to do the same thing. He'd forgotten that he wasn't forgiven.

You couldn't bloody wait till graduation. You'd cut off every single person in this entire pathetic excuse for a school.

Especially Felix Catton.

THIRTEEN MONTHS LATER

You'd always thought college was a given. That was the order it went in, right? High school, Uni, job, marriage, kids, retirement, death. Simple, skeletal, and easy to follow.

Now, the mistake you'd made was assuming that each stage came with an upgraded level of maturity, as well.

You know? How after marriage, you're more rational about love than when you're a horny junior?

Well, evidently, college had missed the memo about maturity.

This was bloody Oxford. OX-BLOODY-FORD. Supposed to be refined, fancy, intellectual.

There was no reason for you to be begrudgingly sat on a mangy old couch whose stains you didn't really want to examine too closely, watching strobe lights flicker here and there, making it look like you were about to be given a fucking lap dance, with how cheap it was.

Not to mention the amount of times you had to push the coked-out bimbo to the right of you off your shoulder and the bricked-up asshole to the left of you, off... well, yourself.

All in all, this was high school all over again.

You had to be here, you reasoned, mentally scratching off your no reason thoughts from earlier. It was the end-of-first-week party, of course. I mean, the upperclassmen threw these things every year for all the newcomers, kind of like a welcoming-slash-bullying ceremony, and to not go was social suicide. To go was basically suicide.

Essentially, you were fucked.

It was sort of pathetic, really, the way you were there, desperately wanting to get up, without actually doing it, because where would you go? What would you do? Dance? That would contribute to the bullying part of this welcoming-slash-bullying ceremony. Stand still in the corner? You'd either end up drugged somehow or outcast.

At least here, people could see you. People might probably remember you, your lack of participation blurring out in their minds, but your presence vaguely familiar. And that's all that was needed, really.

'Oh, yeah, she was there at the party. Yeah, think she and the bird near her were doing lines. Yeah, she was getting it on with the guy next to her.'

As a slut or otherwise, you needed to be perceived to survive college, that was for sure.

The girl right next to you groaned against your shoulder. "You're so... soft. Thanks for putting up with me."

"I showed up way too late.", you muttered, looking around at the scanty crowd.

"Late? No, love, you're early! The main upperclassmen aren't even here, yet.", she explained, shooting up with an unecessary jolt of interest in your lack of knowledge.

"Main?"

"No one throws a party like The Upperclassmen. This isn't even anything, baby."

"There's another one, then, after this?"

"Yeah, this is the main party, and then, maybe, if they feel so inclined, an after-party. But that's invitation-only, so only if they really want to toy with you.", she told you, slowly, and diligently, just in case the cocaine in her veins had evaporated from her blood and you'd inhaled it by accident.

"I'm sor- I'm sorry, toy with me?"

This was Ox-Bloody-Ford! You were supposed to be reading Faust, commenting on Dostoevsky, or cussing out Freud. Something intellectual. Not waiting for a fucking gang of seniors who called themselves, what, the bloody Upperclassmen (like it was cool?) to decide whether you'd be their personal jester or the jest itself.

"They just want to scope out the freshmen, see if there's any worth provoking."

Pursuing, she meant.

"Where is this, uh, after-party?"

"Probably at, like, one of the Upperclassmen's homes? I dunno. Usually, they rent out some club, but this time, I think one of the richer ones rented out, like, an entire villa, so.", she informed you, shrugging.

She shook her head at the groan that followed, patting your cheek as she dragged you over closer to her, away from the creep next to you, pulling out a bottle of tequila.

"Look, there's a reason they've made everyone come to this cheap club.", she said, pouring it out into a glass, offering it to you.

You sighed, nodding as you downed a shot.

"It's supposed to be unenjoyable. It's supposed to make you want to vomit. Seriously, I faced the same thing when I was a freshman, too. Just be yourself, make the most of the situation, and you're cool. Look too chickenshit or disgusted, and you're not. Be neutral, and you're safe, but not respected. Safe is fine."

"I wasn't aware college had cliques, too."

"Life has cliques. Maturity is a very subjective word."

Cocaine had a philosophical advantage, too, apparently.

That was fair. Seven year old you would have considered this - being at a party, as a very mature thing to do, indeed.

She clinked her glass against yours, before downing her shot in one smooth go. "Trust me, sweetheart, get as drunk as you can right now."

You mirrored her, downing your own shot as the music suddenly got louder, cheers erupting from the doorway.

And god fucking damn you if you didn't disregard her entire speech about not looking disgusted, because right there, right BLOODY there was Felix Catton, dancing in like this entire night was a celebration for his sheer existence.

Fuck.

------

Please be a trick of the light, please be a trick of the-

You watched as he twirled girls around, completely off-beat, but completely smoothly, too, at the same time.

Infuriating. Oh, it was HIM, alright. How did he even get into Oxford?! And, more importantly, how was it you had no clue?

Well, that wasn't entirely fair. He was good at his studies, more or less. But you'll be damned if you sat there and admitted it.

"Is that...?"

"Yeah, he's one of The Upperclassmen. Felix Catton.", she nodded, watching with hungry eyes. "Fucking smash, smash, smash."

'Oh, yeah, you get close to him, he will 'smash, smash, smash' you. To bits.' , you grumbled internally.

"Last year, when he was a freshman, the upperclassmen loved him so much, he actually planned the welcoming party for his own batch. Crazy, right?"

"Nah, not crazy."

Made sense. He always got the free passes, the girls, the good drugs, dammit, and... well, everything. The only thing he never got was you, and your forgiveness for being a total bloody cunt unless it benefitted him, but as you watched his lying little lips wrap around a cigarette and then immediately around a girl's tongue, you realised he truly didn't give a shit.

"So you can tell, can you? That he's the most loved?"

You hid a scoff. "Oh, yeah. Clear as day."

"Right?", she gushed, biting her lip momentarily before taking another shot. "He's just got one of those faces."

Yeah, a punchable one.

"I'll tell you, girl. You manage to get in close with him, you're set for life. He's loaded, too, I heard.'

You didn't really think this was an appropriate time to mention that both of you had gone to the same rich-people private school.

"Oh?"

She nodded, gesturing at you to take your shot. "I'm telling you."

"Yeah, well, I don't need an invite to the after-party. I just don't want to find out what happens when They hate me."

She shook her head again, as if to say that wouldn't happen. "Now, shoo, my little protégé. Mingle."

You rolled your eyes, hiding a laugh as you did as instructed, obediently. She was older, of course, and wiser, and she was more used to this intricate, almost unnavigable society called Uni, so, hey. You wouldn't argue.

But she was also coked-out, a woman of very loose morals and hence sanity and sobriety.

Should you argue?

════════════════════ ⋆🪽⋆ ════════════════════

Ending up chatting and doing shots with one guy who seemed relatively non-rapey, your night didn't seem to be going too terribly - a feat you were astonished you'd actually managed.

Finally, a party that wasn't a total bust.

Your hand was under your chin as you listened to him. Normal and casual? Check.

A lopsided grin was on his face. He was having fun, too? Check.

And the lights crackled and shone above both of you. Obscure thing obliged to happen because it was a party and it was basically a law? Check.

His eyes moving behind you, confused and then almost startled? Uh... not in the checklist.

You didn't even have time to be shocked.

"Oh, Jesus FUCK!", shrieked Felix, grinning ear to ear and laughing as if this was all he'd ever wanted in life, his eyes widening as he lunged at you from behind, picking you up and twirling you around - essentially as if you weighed nothing. Harsh on your gym routines, actually. "I thought I saw you! Assumed it was a trick of the light!"

You fought a sigh.

Here's the thing about Felix.

Felix-hugs were the most bittersweet experience on the planet.

They were lovely, warm, and melting.

They were also embarrassingly intimate, mildly condescending, and had a knack for making you feel like you owed him something afterwards.

He continued squeezing, rocking you slightly, before he let go, the look of genuine joy in his eyes slightly making you second-guess whether he really was worth holding a grudge against.

His eyes moved to the guy next to you, his smile still not fading and his arm still around your shoulder. "Hey, who're you?", he asked, clapping a hand on his back.

"Daniel." A small nod. A shit-it's-Felix-get-me-out-of-here-nod.

"Right on, Danny, mate!", he chuckled, holding out his hand. "Give it here!"

Daniel made the mistake of shaking his hand, eliciting a palpably judgemental scoff from Felix. "Aren't we well-mannered?", he muttered. "You a fresher, Dan?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Major?"

"Literature."

"Figured.", he said simply, his smile never once looking anything but welcoming. But it was clear Danny had just committed social suicide. "Tell me, what is it you even learn? Shakespeare?"

"Yeah, we have, actually."

"Romeo and Juliet.", he mused, shaking his head as he looked down at Danny. "Not star-crossed lovers, just losers."

That was evidently a dig at him.

"I think I gotta go , actually.", said Daniel, looking down at his watch. "Work."

"Don't be a stranger, Dan-zo!", he called out behind him, before turning back to you, at his arm. "He's definitely going to keep getting stranger.", he remarked, clutching you closer to his side once more. "Who even handshakes anymore?"

"Loads of people."

"Not you, right, love? Gosh, don't tell me you sucked a hand-shaker's cock. He's not shag-material."

You grimaced. Did he always have to be so crude?

"Why are you flinching like we're in third grade? What, are you, like some, virgin prude or sm'n?", he scoffed, pearly teeth attempting to hide behind the soft glow of his cigarette.

"I'm not a bloody virgin!"

This had always been one of the subjects of Felix's obsessions back in high school - he preferred his girls experienced.

He couldn't be bothered to have to teach and accomodate and- ugh. Too much work.

And you'd always sort of... accepted it. I mean, he was Felix.

So now, when he lazily suggested you were a virgin - perfectly fine for a 19 year old by the way - you panicked. Played into his preferences.

He tousled his hair, the pink and green of the lights in the club choosing the beads of sweat on his bare torso to illuminate, of all things. Then, he turned to look at you, drink in hand, invisible steam coming out of your ears.

His mouth slowly opened as he released a puff of smoke on your face, and he gaped at you, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. "You are a virgin!", he exclaimed, gasping as he did so. "Oh, my god, with a body like that, you're still a bloody virgin?"

"No, no, yell it louder, yeah? Don't think they heard you all the way down in Australia!"

He grinned, scrunching up his nose as he tapped yours. "Come off it, no one heard that. You're eighteen, you know? It's, like, illegal to not have had sex."

"That's not how it work- you're just taking the mick outta me, aren't you?"

"Slightly.", he teased, shrugging as he kissed your cheek, as if that would wipe the frown off your face. "Oh, cheer up, we'll find you someone to shag by the end of the night! And not a hand-shaking twat. Trust."

"I don't want somebody to shag!"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Spoken like a true virgin."

"Alright, shut up, okay? I'm perfectly fine as I am."

"Where'd you run off to, anyway?", he inquired leaning against the bar stool as he took a long drag of his cigarette. "After my senior year. You didn't really contact me."

Take a wild guess why, you absolute arse.

"You didn't contact me."

"'Cause I figured we were family friends. That we would've met at some party. Either way, you could've at least emailed me, yeah? A fucking letter, maybe?"

He was not upset, not at all. He was simply bored, so he thought he'd provoke you a bit. What had Coke-Girl said? Oh, yes, toy with you.

"I didn't contact anyone after they graduated.", you muttered, downing your drink with electrifying determination. "You're not special."

He pouted distractedly as he exhaled some more smoke, his eyes fixed on one spot on the floor. "Hey, you know what we should do?"

Kill one another?

"What?"

"Have a proper reunion, like proper-proper. There's an after-party at this villa I rented out, in like, a couple hours. You should come."

It's an order. Not a request, not an invitation. Not like you'd give him the satisfaction of blind compliance, though. That had always been your thing, you and him, he'd ask you to do something, you'd say no, he'd ask again and again until you said okay to shut him up.

From outside, it'd be somewhat endearing - comical, even - to observe. But you weren't on the outside. You were smack-dab in the middle of this annoying exchange.

"It's already twelve."

"Yeah, I know it's a bit early for a party, but-", he huffed, scratching at his forehead with the hand that still held the cigarette.

"But c'mon. Our reunion is a... special event, wouldn't you agree? Summat to be celebrated, yes?"

His shoulder nudged yours and suddenly you were in high school again, Felix trying his best to convince you that injecting unknown stuff into your bloodstream would be the 'maddest experience of your life'.

"Come on, Y/N, don't be a fucking prude.", he mumbled next to your ear, raising a brow devilishly.

That was a silent warning. Essentially, he'd tell everyone you were a virgin if you didn't humour him. "It'll be just like old times. You'll do body shots off me. Maybe now that you're more mature, you'll let me do them off you?"

"Look, Felix, thanks for offering, but I'm not coming to-"

He shushed you, shaking his head as he took out an opaque little container from his pocket and then shook it, watching the pills plop one-by-one onto his palm. "What do they do? No fucking clue.", he rhymed under his breath, sing-songily, as he glanced up at you, expectantly.

"Oh, no, no, I can't-"

"Pussy."

"That doesn't work on me anymore, Catton."

His cheeky grin suddenly gave way to a scowl. "Why have you changed so much? What happened?"

What the hell was he on about?

"We used to be like best friends! Tom and Jerry!"

"Tom tries to kill Jerry."

"No! No, no, no! They're best mates! Tom just does that to like, make sure his owners don't find another cat who actually wants to kill Jerry!"

He wasn't even high yet, he was talking like this? You'd made a good call on the pills.

"Okay, so assuming I'm Jerry in this... analogy, you've only been a cunt to me because you're afraid someone else is going to actually be a cunt and take your place?"

He popped one of the pills into his mouth, sucking at it so tantalizingly you couldn't help but envy it, for a moment.

That thought was another reason you were glad telepathy wasn't real.

"You make it sound so crazy."

"Maybe 'cause it - What is that, like a... hard candy or summat?", you huffed, watching him suck torturously on the thing.

He nodded. "Yeah. Try one."

"So they were never real?", you asked, accepting a dark purple one you assumed to be grape flavoured.

He shook his head. "Me and the mates sometimes do that. Distribute them. See who acts high. Loads of fun."

Your assumption was proved right. It was grape. "You're a sadist, y'know?"

"And you haven't answered my question, y'know? What happened to you? To us? We were like... this tight!", he whined, crossing both his middle fingers over both his indexes.

"Felix, I don't know if you know this, but I hated you in high school."

"WHAT?", he scoffed, evidently very offended. "No, you didn't!"

"O'course I did. We'd known each other since we were five, then you suddenly hate me all of a sudden in middle school, then the last year of high school, I'm suddenly your puppet you can bring along when you're bored and lonely and wanting to look charitable?"

"That's not even remotely true, alright? I'm a very kind person."

You sighed. "Sure."

"I don't like being called a bad person, Y/N.", he declared, frowning. "Take it back."

"No."

"TAKE. IT. BACK."

"NO. I. WON'T."

His hand slammed melodramatically down on the bar stool, repeating the words as screams now, submerged under the loud waves of music. You still refused to take back the fact that Felix was not the super kind, perfect, individual that everyone thought he was, and that seemed to irk him.

Because who was he if not the nice one? The one whose attention was a blessing?

"You enjoyed it, though, like a little popular-adjacent... fame-sucker! You'd never have been anywhere without me!"

You gasped in sardonic offense. "Oh, no, what ever would I have done without you? Gotten a good sleep schedule?"

He rolled his eyes. "Uncool." He pointed his cigarette at you.

"You're uncool, Y/N.", he taunted as he backed away, shaking his head and tutting.

As Coke-Girl had said, you'd just been marked for the hermit life by an Upperclassman. Brilliant. Fucking great. You rolled your eyes, flipping his ungrateful arse the bird.

After the party, about two hours later, however, he caught up with you, grumbling as he shoved you into his car and broke his rule of only shagging non-virgins, and you broke your rule of only shagging non-Felix-Cattons.

════════════════════ ⋆🪽⋆ ════════════════════

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Shame was not something Felix really felt much.

Hooking up with a random girl in a club bathroom and moaning someone else's name? Awkward, yes, but not really shame-inducing.

To each their own. A bathroom hookup was degrading enough, anyway.

Then he came out of the bathroom. Shame still eluded him.

But barely a half hour later, he was on his knees at the dorm of the person whose name he'd moaned, his face pressed into your stomach, the stain of his tears growing increasingly on your shirt , and shame introduced itself to him by slapping his face ten times, five on each cheek.

Felix Catton had never needed you. He had never really needed anything.

You, in turn, had never needed him.

Your disdain for him was evident to everyone in the entire university - which you didn't mind. So what if he'd essentially marked you for the hermit life? You were actually doing fine. You still got to go to parties, you still had a good social life, it was lovely.

[Point : You.]

But here's the thing about Felix Catton.

He didn't seem to really know how being mad was supposed to work. Evidently, no one had ever not wanted to be around him before.

And that is where the problem lay.

Because no matter how many times you yelled at him, no matter how many times he yelled back, he'd be at your door just like tonight, high and on his knees, undoing your belt buckle while muttering an impressive mix of profanities and apologies.

"God, love, just fuck me blind already."

"Did you miss me, too?"

"You can't keep fucking doing this to me, I'm going insane."

A few gems from the last three times he'd come crawling back.

And he was Felix. What would you do? Push him away? Laughable.

He knew you wouldn't. [Point : Felix.]

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This time, however, something was off. This time, it felt... different.

You were so fucking patient this time that he almost insulted you just to get a reaction. Why weren't you kicking him out? Why were you also not letting him in? Why did you let him stay like that, waiting for him to say something?

"Y/N, say something.", he mumbled against your torso, his eyes still wet and stinging.

"Like what?"

Was that fatigue he sensed in your tone? You sounded utterly spent.

"Anything."

"We can't- I can't keep doing this."

"What?"

"This… this vicious cycle of you come, we fuck, we're cool for, maybe, two weeks - if we're lucky - and then you throw a fit at me like I'm the one who keeps crawling back and then call me a cunt! And then every time you're on a bender-"

You stopped to take a breath, clenching your jaw.

He'd expected you to push him away, but the most you did was stop stroking his hair. That was a shame. He'd quite liked that.

He didn't like the fact that you allowed him to hold onto you so tenderly while you recounted all the non-tender things he did. It was cruel and it was smart and it was working.

"This is our, what, fifth time here?"

"You said it yourself, we're cool for two weeks. We should just… elongate that."

"Oh, yes, sure, great. Why did we never try that before?"

"Y/N, please. Please."

You should be pushing him away.

You should be kicking him out the door.

"Felix, you can't just keep-"

"I won't. This'll be the last time."

"And how many times have you said that?"

"I'm so sorry, love, I don't know what got- I didn't mean for it to- I'm sorry."

"No, you're not, you're just high"

He shook his head, groaning as he kissed up from your navel to your chest, craning his neck as far as possible, before he slowly stood. "You're wrong."

"No, Felix, I'm not."

What set his teeth on edge was that you didn't stop him making a fool of himself at any moment, almost like you enjoyed watching his desperation.

"Yes, you are.", he whined, as his lips began to give way to his tongue, reintroducing it to your throat. "You know you are."

And then, finally, finally, you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hair tightly - ouch - to push him away from your neck. Finally, a fucking reaction. "Felix."

"Y/N."

"We agreed we'd just ignore each other during Uni, and yet, here you are, acting like I owe you something."

He groaned, your logic way too much for his absolutely plastered mind. "We had a deal. When you need it, come to me. When I need it, I come to you. Mutual disdain be damned."

"Felix, that's not the-" That was the furthest thing from the fucking deal.

"I was your first, and I'm also your best! So don't be bloody ungrateful, alright, baby? So, stop acting like you hate sex."

"This isn't about sex."

"Have we been in the same relationship?", he scoffed.

Whoops. That was the wrong word. "I just mean- we're really good at what we do, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know, I was there.", you sniped. "But I stand by what I said. This isn't about sex. This is about your borderline unhealthy obsession with me."

Okay, he came here to shag the daylights out of you, not be read through and analyzed like literature. That was fucking David- wait, Daniel? Whatever- his job. Not yours.

"'M not obsessed. Just addicted."

He always knew it was about the right words with you.

He leaned down over you, forehead nuzzled against yours, and his lips magnetically drawn to yours. "Please, Y/N."

"Felix…"

"Please. You're mine, right? You can do this for me."

Shit. That would set you off again if he didn't do something about it.

"No matter what happens between us, we've got each other's backs. You're mine, I'm yours." That should pacify you.

He peppered multiple kisses on your lips, murmuring sweet nothings to you between them. He didn't want to brag, but he was very good at being persuasive.

"Felix."

"Shh."

"Felix, I can't, I'm with someone else!" Oof. Minor setback. But it's alright. This wasn't the first time you'd forced yourself to date someone else to get over him.

"Really?"

"Yes. So you should leave."

"Leave? And not fight for you? The only woman who…", he whispered once more, bringing your hands to his chest, "…gets me?" His lips were barely inches away from your eyes, the same ones he searched so deeply through at the moment.

"Gets you or gets you off?", you scoffed.

What, did you have all his possible moves written down somewhere?

"Why can't it be both?"

"Felix, leave."

"I've got with you when I was with someone else, why can't you?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"Because you're you! You're never with someone else! It's just that you hook up with one person more often than the rest of the population!"

Well, yeah, wasn't that commitment?

"So? I was still with someone, but I cared about you enough to take care of you."

That was a lie.

He was the one who'd shown up at your door, not caring whether he was 'cheating' or not.

But he knew that you'd blocked out most of that traumatic night from your memory, what with the trip to the ER and all, so you wouldn't refute him.

"I'm not- you're grasping at straws."

"And you're prolonging the inevitable." God, it was such a hassle not to slur those words with how shitfaced he was. "You'll always come back to me." He continued kissing you, all the while pushing you back into your dorm and closing the door behind him. Good.

"Felix-"

"Shh, you know that you're not pulling away because you've missed me. Just as much as I've missed you."

This seemed as good a time as any to unbutton your shirt. Too bad you decided tonight was the night to be a little bitch and push him away.

"Felix, seriously, stop it, mate.", you huffed, trying to swat his hands away as they curved around your hips through your shirt. "Seriously."

"I'm not your mate.", he whispered against your lips, hoping the words started on his tongue and ended on yours, his tone far too sweet for its own good. "Don't call me that."

His fingers grazed over your bra and it felt so right he had to stop and mentally consider why in the hell he'd ever even said he hated you.

"Felix, stop."

And the look in his eyes helped you finally realize what was off, this time.

He was not high. He was DRUNK.

But it was too late. The male ego is a fragile thing, as you'd learnt.

"Fine. I'll leave. Just know I told Mum about you. She says congrats on losing the V-Card."

"You told her that?" Fuck Felix Catton.

"Yeah. Oh, oh, plus, she wants you to come to Saltburn for Christmas. We can have our proper-proper reunion there, she says. So, you're coming."

"Like hell I will."

"C'mon, you and my Mum were always close, yeah?", he cooed, tucking a piece of your hair in between two of his fingers. "Just 'cause you quote-unquote hated me in school, doesn't make that untrue."

His hand was back on your bra. "Come to Saltburn.", he murmured against your neck. "I'll make it worth your while."

"You're going to embarrass me in front of your family.", you whispered, pushing his fingers away from the clasp, eliciting a sarcastic pout from him.

"You're going to embarrass yourself. And you and I both know you won't reject the invitation."

"You're such a cunt."

"Wow, creative.", he scoffed. Déjà vu. "See you there."

FUCK.

[cherries-in-wine]

SPOILER WARNING FOR AOT JUST SOME OF MY RAMBLES

English is not my first language please don't be mean okay thank you <3

honestly I didn't hate eremika as much as I thought I would- both of them are emotionally immature idiots who feel a lot but have no idea how to deal with said feelings. their relationship is definitely a lot of wasted potential but idk they are cute in their own imperfect and somewhat uneasy way. was that ending scene weird definetly but like eh gothic romance fan I've read and seen much worse things and called it peak romance so it's like weird but like okay also im very drunk slightly tipsy and I just finished aot just cuz I wanted to feel something and man I feel a lot of things also I think there might be a cultural difference too because in the west it's all like gulululu sloppy kiss gulululu fucking and like I grew up with old Bollywood romance where mfs don't even kiss so stolen glances and flushed cheeks and "ill always wrap your scarf over and over again" means wayyyy more than an infinite number of kisses. I get why people don't like it but yea I like them they are so fucking embarrassing and stupid. Eren's randi rona (hindi phrase exact translation is whore crying but semantics is probably bitch whining) was so funny and pathetic i've never laughed so hard but it is embarrassing in a way that makes so much sense for this suicidal maniac. I thought I would hate mikasa because I linger in the subreddits because social media kalesh and lafda is something I feed off of like a vampire sucking blood after escaping the coffin that held them for centuries (kalesh/lafda is hindi for fights) anyways so silly goofy fun idk what y'all are on about she's so kool not really a Mary Sue because she sucks at emotional intelligence and as a leader like definitely too driven by feelings but tbh I love that about her and her bond with other characters is so precious to me. I get why she's unlikable she is so flawed but idk I love her. the fanfic writers are so mean to her like oh my god why is she always this weird obsessed stalker that gets in the way of eren and y/n and historia is always someone y/n is insanely jealous of like please why can't we all be best friends and braid each other's hair

A little something about erehisu too- tbh I don't think its obsessive desperate fan behaviour like it's a very good ship imo. I have mixed feelings about it but idk lowkey makes sense. not in a "these people are great for each other and will be so cute as more than friends" way but more like a "oh wow they have a lot going on, they are good friends and the people they love are people they can't be with so it would make sense if they both are emotionally vulnerable enough that they end up doing something" kinda way. would've definitely made it more interesting because I thought sidelining a character like historia who had so much potential would hopefully have a bigger meaning and some greater part of Eren's plan but no bro is an idiot who has no idea what he is doing.

Mixed feelings about historia too- I liked her arc but the amount of plot armour that surrounds her kinda pisses me off. also the irl jaegerists and incels on reddit are so annoying they've made her into chaderen loser's trad wife who sits at home with the baby and shakes her head with a disapproving pout when he returns home after genocide like I know for a fact canon historia would be disgusted by this narrative. also oh my god the lengths these people go to prove that her relationship with Ymir was just a one sided obsession and not a lesbian romance is insane. like yea historia doesn't have to be lesbian she could be bi but that relationship was definitely mutual and romantic

I have sooo much more to say maybe when im sober ill organise everything and make it pretty but im in my senior year of high school with like no time on my hands so idk will see please stick with me but always thank u for reading meri jaan have a lovely day/night :))

[livvyofthelake]

new lost ranking post the hurley episode i watched last night. episode 18? maybe. whatever

1. jack obviously. he’s never getting knocked off the top of the pyramid there’s literally nothing anyone else could do to make me like them more than jack…. nothing this show ever does will ever beat do no harm

2. sayid!!! his swag is like. so unbeatable… he just hits different AND he’s a total hottie too woah… loving his paranoid insane freak arc this season. the writers were like what if we killed his girlfriend and made him act insane. and i’m eating it up actually i mean i wish they hadn’t killed his girlfriend considering that was literally my good friend shannon who i miss deeply. but sayid is NOT moving on and i love it… need me a freak like that sorry

3. claire… maternity leave was HUGE… and that’s my friend belle she always ranks higher than she probably should because she’s my friend belle <3

4. hurleyyyyy :) my special little prince and i mean this… i’m such a hurley girl and yeah sure you can also chalk that up to the fact that hurley is the pet character of eddie and adam and i would love anything eddie and adam did forever and ever except that tron movie i could never quite get through watching. heart! anyway yeah i love hurley he’s my guy… hurley is so. me age 19 but different but the same. wow. if hurley could read some of my notes app poetry from 2020 he’d feel seen in a way that would motivate him to seek professional help. but let’s not get into that

5. ana lucia SORRY. she kinda sucks so fucking bad and yes she killed my beautiful girl shannon but that was only her fault as much as it’s a gun’s fault when someone uses it to kill someone. so i’ve never blamed her for that it’s just a bad situation which she will notttt be coming out on top of 😐. but i think she’s sooo cool in a woman who sucks way… and her cunty 2000s ass outfit is crazy… the black tank top and low rise bootcut jeans and chunky belt and zip up utility vest…. i’d dress up as her for halloween if i was the kind of person who dressed up for halloween or was willing to buy an ugly belt for a one wear costume. also her plot with sayid rn is soooo good they’re looking at each other just two paranoid FREAKS going. you aren’t crazy. and neither am i. let’s fucking kill these Others. it’s sooooo good… and she never makes the same mistake twice…

6. eko my good friend eko…. he’s so…. he’s just so kind… imagine having the patience and compassion to be nice to charlie right now. woah

7. kate. in her flop era rn and it’s DIRE. but we love her this is the highest i can put her right now i’m sorry girl you just can’t beat out eko and hurley and ana etc when you’re acting like this….

8. rose and bernard <3 soooooo excited for them next episode it’s not even funny… that’s literally rose and bernard….

9. libby. category five obsessed with that freak disease! she took one look at that loser hurley and was like he’s so fucking pathetic and weird. and i want him so bad. and i HAVE to respect her game. she said oh yeah i’m gonna talk him back from suicide and then it’s ON…

10. danielle rousseau… she literally slayed the house down in maternity leave… sorry queen for never including you in these lists before now my bad fr!

11. sun <3 she’s so. your girl friend who deserves way better but she’s so happy with her annoying and unlikeable man you can’t even tell her to dump his ass no matter how bad you want to

12. michael… where tf is michael… i miss him :(

13. new guy. i can’t very well call him henry now can i. wtf is his name… kinda like his pathetic gay swag. but he’s sooo annoying 🙄 and frankly i stand with sayid’s paranoid freak ass… but he’s kinda fun to have around i admit! love how he’s always playing mind games!!

14. locke admittedly has been slaying lately but i still think all his backstory episodes are lame and bad and also. as we say. an enemy of jack’s…

15. jin. he like. swings wildly between me hating him so bad i hope he dies and me thinking he’s soooo interesting and compelling and cool. the whole truth was a crazy episode in this way when it started i was like wow he needs to kill himself. and then by the end i was like woah why is he the most interesting man on lost island…. the way he literally can’t talk to anyone but sun as a physical storytelling metaphor for his closed off nature that prevents him from ever being truly known… wowie!

16. charlie. he’s flopping soooo hard this season. remember when charlie used to be a top five character. that’s crazy

17. sawyer. goes without explanation

[zappedbyzabka]

Wow that outfit for Johnny's nips to peek out of is just perfect. He might be a bit embarrassed putting it on but anyone would go for his chest in heartbeat. And he'd realize just how perfect an outfit it is. Maybe Terry gets it for him and he sits awkwardly wearing it while Terry works, suddenly all to aware of his chest and wondering why Terry would buy him such a thing only for Terry to rub one of those hard nipples and prove his point. Kreese might think it's cute but dirty and debate about it for a few weeks before deciding to get it for Johnny as a treat, because one. Johnny needs to remember his place and 2. Kreese deserves a treat himself and teasing Johnny in it would be delightful. Daniel might have to talk him into it and Johnny would hug his chest not sure what the appeal is until Daniel pulled his arms away from his chest and got his mouth on him and then he'd realize it, agree to sometimes wear it under his clothes out in public. Which would make him all to aware of his chest and nipples until he was practically begging Daniel to take him somewhere to get off. The cobras would get it for a Halloween costume. Maybe they'd play a game they rigged where the loser has to wear it and Johnny loses, expects to be teased all night but instead the cobras can't keep their hands off of him, and there are strangers at the party eyeing him in an appreciative way he wasn't expecting that he kinda likes even though he might be a bit ashamed of it at first, especially if a cobra comes up behind him and makes eye contact with someone and teases one of his nipples saying they never knew he liked being on display or having an audience. He didn't know either.

Yesssssss tyyy

Silver is all about playing with Johnny’s nipples until they feel raw and that’s when his puts his (big) mouth on them like they’re damn hershey kisses. all but nurses until he hefts Johnny up in his arms and fucks him against a wall🙏 He also might enjoy getting Johnny piercings for himself to nibble on. Cut to him slamming into Johnny doggystyle pinching his nips.

Kreese is all about that dollish/dainty kind of lingerie from his teens, and that’s usually what he dresses Johnny in, but then he saw this slutty onesie with slits, and yeah, he was thinking a lot. Johnny is all shy and flustered about it, but of course he puts it on for him, and it’s not too long before Kreese is purposefully nuzzling his stubbled cheek on Johnny’s nipples, sucking on them, biting them, and pushing aside the crotch of the lingerie to pound him. Probably cums on them too and groans when Johnny sticks out his tongue like he wants it there too. They stay pretty shiny from Kreese’s spit. He loves dressing up his babydoll and anything that gives him easy access to soft thighs and tits worth risking his whole dojo over.

Daniel has always tried to get away with touching Johnny’s pecs whenever he could—cop a feel, but not really. Put a hand on his shoulder and slid it down to his tit. So it was easy to make all the times his hands, nose, and lips grazed Johnny’s nipples to remind him of what he was wearing seem all incocent until Johnny’s dropping the macho act and whining and climbing him like a kitty. He’s quite focused on them when he’s not fawning after those locks or his head isn’t buried between long legs. The shyness just gets him off, and when he gets dragged to the nearest bathroom, he’s pushing up Johnny’s shirt and getting to work quick. He already has a habit of pressing his face in that plush cleavage at random and has fallen asleep like that many times, so they will 100% buy slutty pjs like this for him too.

The Cobras touching him in front of everyone😩 They all knew they were going to make him wear it. They’ve rigged multiple games—that’s how he ended up having to wait on them the rest of the night once like some kind of group housewife. He was being bratty to them that night—slapping their hands away and making bitchy comments, huffing and puffing and pouting—and that just made it better when they grabbed him and got to fuck the attitude out of him while he was crying and clinging (if his hands aren’t occupied.)

He just never learns, is what Jimmy commented while they watched Johnny put it on, or maybe he likes it and doesn’t want to learn. And yeah, he likes it when they can’t stop looking at him, Bobby even glancing in the rearview mirror at him on the way to the party because the boy is as much of a horny dog as Dutch, like all of them are, just each presenting it in different ways. of course, Jimmy and Tommy could not keep their hands off him in the backseat. Sneaking them under his shirt if not sticking their heads under their almost comically to tweak and suck on his nubs.

Car swerved a few times because the sound of Johnny coming is distracting.

But they make it and the handsiness does NOT stop whatsoever. They make it a point to stay with him at all times because they want to and lest some guy come up to him with a poker asking for a quickie.

It’s 10x times more fun at the party being able to make Johnny’s chest and face rosier and rosier the longer the night went on than it would have been had he worn something else. Plus, they need to make it clear who exactly is getting to have a piece of that cake. Who gets to have him instead of dreaming.

[nickeldean]

-- March, 1987 --

"Hey, Chandler," Ross says, leaning up against the locker beside Chandler's. He'd been clinging to Chandler lately, which made more sense the more Chandler thought about it. They'd been friends since middle school, and now it was senior year, and they were planning to go to the same college, yeah, but they were getting vastly different degrees and Ross never was very good at making friends. Not that Chandler was great at it either.

Chandler sucks in a deep breath through her nose and slams her locker, leaning back against it once it's closed. "What is it now, Ross?" she asks, wishing she had a cigarette based on the look on Ross' face.

"Well," Ross sighs, "You know about the Prom, and how I haven't found a date yet," he trails off, looking over at Chandler.

Chandler snorts. "Oh God, good. Prom sucks, man, I mean, who wants to dress up like that anyway? I'm just going to stay home and watch whatever's on, probably. I think there's a Star Trek re-run tonight, if you wanna swing by," she offers, raising her eyebrows at Ross.

He only groans in response. "You know I have a math test tomorrow, and my mom will kill me," Ross says, "She'll kill you too, y'know."

"Fine, fine, whatever," Chandler relents, "So you don't want to watch Star Trek with me and you want to go to Prom? Who the hell are you?"

Ross shrugs, looking down at his feet. "I was kinda hoping you'd like, come with me to Prom. And we could watch Star Trek after on my DVR, you know I've got the good episodes on tape, and maybe like, just have fun?" Ross rambles, refusing to look at Chandler as he offers.

Chandler laughs, a full-on, throaty, uninhibited laugh, hands on her knees from its power. "Wow, good one Ross, really had me there," she says, rolling her eyes and leaning back again, chuckling some more.

"I'm not kidding, Chandler."

They both fall silent.

"Ross," Chandler starts, nervously laughing, "You know why we're best friends, right?"

Nodding, Ross answers, "We both like Star Trek and have been bullied our whole lives, yeah," he trails off, not liking the look on Chandler's face.

Chandler shakes her head and shrugs. "Not exactly, really," she mutters, "I mean, I'm your friend because you don't care that I'm weird. I smoke and I dress like I'm straight out of the Dollar Store Men's Warehouse, and you don't care."

"Well," Ross interjects, "I wouldn't say Men's Warehouse. I'd say you still look pretty, it's not like you come off as masculine or anything," he laughs to himself, but Chandler's not laughing.

"Ross, I'm not going with you to Prom."

"Why not?" Ross asks, clearly annoyed.

"Because," Chandler sighs, "Because I think I'm a lesbian."

Ross goes quiet for a moment, tapping his foot on the dirty school floor, thinking. "Well," he starts, "We wouldn't have sex after. Or kiss. You could just show up in a nice dress and we'd pretend. We could watch Star Trek after, even," Ross begs, and Chandler knows why. If they go to the Prom, and both have dates, even if they're each other, they might not be losers for once in their lives.

Chandler forces a laugh. "I'm not the dress type. Kinda butch, I guess. Been thinking of cutting my hair, actually," she admits, unsure where the line between them is, when Ross will tell her to shut up, yell and tell her she can't be a lesbian, she can't, and even though they live in New York, she's not safe. She's not safe anywhere, not with Reagan in the goddamn White House and not with Bush set to succeed him.

Ross must sense Chandler's panic, setting a hand on her shoulder gingerly and shrugging. "We are losers. Maybe you could come with me in a suit? I've got one from a couple years ago that might fit you. My parents probably wouldn't care if you took it, they love you," Ross suggests under his breath, and even if he's ashamed of Chandler in some way, he's still offering her a lot, more than anyone else has before, and so she nods, shrugging beside her friend.

"I guess I'd go to Prom with you, then," Chandler says, "But only if I get to pick out which episode we watch afterwards."

Ross smiles. "Deal."

[bri-the-nautilus]

yes agreed Kerouac fucking sucks...but I also don't like any beat literature. It's telling that the best author among his contemporaries was an amphetamine-addled trust-fund kid that murdered his wife.

Yeah Burroughs was a fun case lmao. I'm pretty sure he tried to tell the cops that they were pretending to be William Tell when he killed her. Seriously, all those guys were stoned out of their minds. Probably why their books are amazing if you're a 16-22 year old boy but utterly unrelatable if you aren't; there are tons of accounts online of dudes who read the Beats as teens and loved them but revisited them as adults and were like "wow these guys are losers."

Reading that one chapter of Dharma Bums where Kerouac's self-insert and his inserts of Snyder and Ginsberg do three-day-long alcoholic naked ritual fake-Buddhism sex with a shy local teenager was one of the most uncomfortable experiences I've ever had. I was like, wait, this book is based on his life, these characters are based off him and his friends, and he writes THIS??? And PUBLISHES IT???

The only Beat scribbles that I can somewhat tolerate are some of Ginsberg's poetry. "Howl" is pretty damn good, even if Ginsberg was kind of a weirdo. (sidenote: one of Kerouac's worst transgressions in my opinion was the section of Dharma Bums when he has his self-insert go to the San Francisco "Howl" reading and changed the poem's title to "Wail." Fucking Wail??? Really Jack? That word just doesn't have even a sliver of the impact and tone of the word 'howl'. A howl is something raw and primal, a hoarse, furious refrain. A wail is like a fucking baby that needs a nap or something.)

Something that always amused me about the Beats is that many of them are super aware that they're all self-destructive, miserable hedonists, but none of them do anything about it. All of Kerouac's self-inserts go through this weird nature detox where they swear off alcohol and become functioning human beings, but Kerouac died of liver failure in his mom's basement or some shit. The way Ginsberg describes the effects of substance use on his friends in "Howl" is graphic and objectively brutal (if I wasn't already convinced to never do drugs, that poem would've done it), but then he goes and makes street drugs out to be a religious imbibement akin to the blood and body of Christ. Hypocrisy about matters of self-care is everywhere in Beat literature when you start looking for it. Kinda wild.

Honestly, the more I think about it the more I think the best modern-day analogue for Kerouac in particular is fucking Ernest Cline. The Ready Player One guy. They're the same dude. They both have this fixation with the trappings of their youth (drugs for Kerouac, shitty arcade games for Cline), they both write books about self-insert characters obsessed with said trappings, both books portray the said characters as utterly despondent and in a downward spiral that they come out of while the authors are on that same downward spiral but show no signs of recovery. Obviously Cline hasn't died of whatever the '80s-pop-culture equivalent of cirrhosis is, but if you look at the way he completely half-assed RP2, character-assassinating Wade and Halliday in the process, and how he's reacted to criticism of his books, I think it's not an awful stretch to say that Cline is to RP1 Wade as Kerouac is to Ray Smith or whatever that guy's name was just in terms of how their characters can overcome their flaws but the men themselves just can't.

[ckygetsjobs]

It was just Radio Bam

Brandon Dicamillo x reader

A/n: oh man I’m rubbing my hands together like a loser I love this idea sooo much I’m head over heels in love with him…. Also a little angst. Also ft. Johnny

Hearing the honk outside your apartment was weird at first, but then when you looked outside and seen the car Johnny had driven for his small stay at West Chester that was really one of his friend’s car’s that he let him borrow. You ran outside and slid into the passenger seat, and soon as you got in he crossed his arms and gave you a stare, which met you were seriously in trouble. 

“Don’t tell me it’s true…. Please tell me you didn’t…” he put his head in his hands just shaking his head, obviously tired of your shenanigans. 

“I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to,” you told him crossing your legs and not looking his way. 

“Don’t bullshit me. You really confessed your love to him on radio bam. Come on I thought you were better than that.”

“What can I say. I know it was a bad idea. He hasn’t talked to me in three days… three days, man. That’s a big deal with dico, that dude really has nothing going on. He just plays video games all day, I’m worried he’s ignoring me,” you sighed, clearly worried about where you stood with him.

Knox’s whole attitude changed, he just wrapped you in a hug, rubbing your back, “we’ll get him back. promise. As your best friend I owe you that much.”

You raised an eyebrow “and who said you were my best friend dumbass, nice try,” you pushed him, not seriously and definitely not hard. 

You two were just laughing in the car together, not believing Knoxville actually had it in him to assume he was your best friend, not that he was wrong about that but you weren’t going to tell him that. You hardly seen him because he was always busy, you were going to make this time count, even if it was trying to get the guy you had a crush on to forgive you for the little stunt you pulled.

Both of you were at Bam’s house, you grumbling because you had to be near that asshat again and Knox was saying hi to April and the rest of the guys, he was in a better mood than you were. But he also didn’t deeply hate bam and want to fight him every second he was around him. You were hoping dico was going to show up, because you were all a close group of friends and always around each other, not missing it for the world. But he wasn’t there and he didn’t show up. 

You just left, sneaking out by using going to the bathroom as an excuse. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t believe you could be this stupid, but here you are, in the pouring rain and with no umbrella or jacket of any kind. 

“Hey stranger,” in front of you was the person you had been waiting to see for days, Brandon Dicamillo, and he had a fucking umbrella. 

You didn’t think you ran faster in your entire life, not because you were getting wet, which you hated anyways, rain sucked, but no it was because of the handsome man in front of you. Who was chuckling loudly at you running, he always said you looked ridiculous doing it. You instantly fell into his warm and dry arms like clockwork. You could instantly smell the scent of cherries on him, that was just dico, he smelled sweet and inviting and good.

“I’m really sorry for saying I liked you on a radio station… it wasn’t the best choice and I know I should of told you. Maybe you’re right, maybe I am ridiculous,” you explained, waving your hands around and clutching him tighter, hoping he wouldn’t leave again.

“Wow never did I think I’d ever hear you admit you’re ridiculous… first time for everything,” was all he said as his lips pressed up against yours, still laughing his ass off at you while you were still kinda soaking wet, and he was a little wet also because the rain rubbed off on him when he held you close.

As the rain continued to pour, you got into Dico’s red truck, where it was warm and he turned on the heat. He explained he was shocked you just admitted all that shit about him on the fucking radio without telling him first. He needed time to think about what had occurred and he said he didn’t mean to ignore you. He held your hand as he stopped the car, smiling softly, and the sound of Beethoven floated into your ears as he kissed you passionately.

[birbfeeder2artisticboogaloo]

thousand autumns donghua, episode 14~

(episode 14 already??? IS IT ALMOST OVER?? OH NOOO I’M HAVING TOO MUCH FUN ;A;)

AH our intrepid duo have arrived at bixia sect!!!

aww the cute bby likes the scener--OH MY GOD EVERYONE IS DEAD

OH NOOOO THIS IS TERRIBLE!!! WTF???!??

i am glad that shiwu is getting some extra trauma btw, it'd be a shame if he had a normal childhood after all this

YAN WUSHI'S EYES WENT ALL PURPLE!!

he frowmn >:( like dis >:(

oh!!! my son is here MY SON IS HERE HI BBY!!!!

UH. wow the old man wiping blood off his mouth in a. kinda sexy manner??? hawt. 😳😳😳

yu shengyan all worried about him ;A; the letter, all symbolically splattered with blood ;A; wHAT A SCENE

is this a flashback??

ruan hailou!!! idk u yet but my opinion is low bc u and pu anmi are killing these ppl who seem v nice

AAAAHHHH TOO MANY NAMES!!! i'm getting a bit overwhelmed by all the introductions!! i’ll try my best, but pls forgive me if i get names wrong or miss a few ;A;

yue kunchi, ok he's a disciple here....that miniature chinstrap beard thing on him is....a choice 👀

also some of these other dudes have got like,,,,,,,sort of khitan style hair arrangements?? they look rad tho 💅

GIRL NO DON'T PROTECC HIM WITH UR BODY!!!

OHHH it's not a flashback!! SHEN QIAO ARRIVES JUST IN TIME TO HELP!!!!

lmao ruan hailou thinks he's the main character, it's very cute

ahh is pu anmi from the south then?? his animations are rly good actually, like i can just FEEL the disdain dripping off him, i can imagine him as an actual human in a live-action drama like, i've seen ppl do these....movements!! I LIKE IT!!!

ooh they gonna fight?? they gonna fight 😤

EWWWWWW HE LICKED THE SWORD!! DONT LICK UR SWORD MAN!! DO U KNOW HOW MANY DISEASES ARE BLOOD-BORNE. DO U WANT EVERY HEPATITIS. UR NOT SAFE FROM PLAGUE SIR

aww yisss now they fighting >:D

OH SHIT SHEN QIAO IS SHOWING HIM UP

FIGHTING TWO AT ONCE???? GET EM SHEN QIAO!!!! U ARE SUCH A BADASS SHEN QIAO!!!!

shen qiao is the epitome of 'float like a butterfly, sting like a bee' today with his gentle winds ability!!! such beautiful martial arts!! 🤩

i love how there's always a guy describing the fight for us, the audience lmao 🤣 like a sports announcer or something, but for martial arts 🤣

FUCK YEAH THIS FIGHT SCENE GOES SO HARD!!!! THIS IS GREAT!!!!

WOOOOOO!!!!

Zhao Chiying!!! A LADY SECT LEADER!!! she is beautiful omg ;A; she is so pretty and graceful ;A; they all respect her so much ;A;

bixia disciples: great to see u zongzhu!! ur killing it zongzhu!! :D

lol ruan hailou looks like he just saw his ex at a party. awwwkwarrrrdddd

OH SHIT ZHAO CHIYING IS KNEELING TO THIS LOSER?????

she is so polite!!! she's a better man than i tbh!! i would never bc i am impolite as fuck :D couldn't be me luv, couldn't be me 😌👌

SUCH HONOUR. SUCH DIGNITY.

ohhh was........was ruan hailou accused of assaulting the previous master's daughter?? but he didn't do it, and he was wrongfully exiled from bixia sect?? maybe the subtitles are a bit unclear, or maybe i'm a bit dumb, or maybe it's both (it's probably both lol)

aaaawwwwww the disciples love her so much ;A;

OH GREAT EVERYONE IS NOW CRYING

wtf is even happening anymore??? im so confused lol

lol yeah girl u could have intervened BEFORE ur disciples got killed but whatever

now pu anmi is a prisoner to bixia sect!!! they have ONE DUDE, one SKINTY DUDE, taking him away, unrestrained. that won’t end poorly at all (unless the plot declares otherwise lol 🤣)

pu anmi: U GUYS SUCK!! MY SHIZUN WILL RESCUE ME!! AND UR STUPID BOYFRIEND YAN WUSHI IS GONNA DIE!!! >:(

shen qiao: :(  but we're not friends anymore :(

OH SHIT IS THIS GUY GONNA KILL HIMSELF???? DON'T DO IT BRO WAIT WAIT

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OH MY GOD HE JUST

HE JUST WENT OVER THE CLIFF LIKE

THAT WAS SO FUCKING SAD???? IDEK WHAT HIS DEAL WAS BUT WAS THIS REALLY THE ANSWER??? poor fucking man, he was a twat but like........i feel quite bad for the man!! nobody deserves to feel that there's no way out besides taking their own life ._. even if u have done really bad things....u can do better! as long as ur alive, things can change!!!

poor shiwu....standing by the table, wiping his tears....he's seen SO much ;A; my poor bby boyyyy i wanna hug him ;A; COME TO BIRB'S WINGS, CHILD!! I SHALL SHIELD YE FROM HARM!!! :V

shen qiao: well i brought shifu's kid all the way here :)

zhao chiying: yyyeah about that. can u keep him actually??

shen qiao: u couldn't have told me this BEFORE WE WALKED ALL THE WAY HERE?? :) whatever fine i'll keep him, he's mine now :)

AWWWW SHIWU'S KOWTOW WAS SO EXCITED!!! HE'S SO HAPPY OMG!!!!! SWEET CUTE BABBY ;A;

HE SNATCH THE TEA FROM ZHAO CHIYING BC HE'S SO EAGER TO HAND IT OVER OH MY GODDDD ;A;

btw are his parents and sister dead now?? his old man's probably in gaol for taking another child hostage but his mum and sister were starving to death on a bridge. do u suppose they sold him to zhu lengquan. do u think they got a good price

shen qiao: btw can i stay over ur place?? i need to kill a man :)

zhao chiying: sure why not lol

[linawritesocs]

social media au with my ocs! [prologue - part 4]

YAY THE FIRST CHAPTER THAT HAS A WRITTEN PART!! though i did that part mostly because i went "wait.. they probably wouldn't have a good internet connection IN THE MINES"

also the dates get even worse in this one. i'm sorry i got tired of editing them.

tagging: @solxima @taruruchi

"we're all in this together! and it's totally not a hsm reference!"

---------------------------------------------------

seth: ace-chan~

seth: just what do you think you're doing?

ace: what, can't i tell others about how stupid you are?

ace: like, you could literally die there, you're magicless, if even a single little thing goes wrong, that's it, mr. seth what's-his-last-name is dead!

ace: you should be grateful that we were there to save you!

deuce: ace, stop, that's enough.

deuce: i don't want to agree with someone like him, but.. he's right, seth. i think you really should have been more careful.

deuce: imagine what would happen if we came too late..

ace: yeah, we wouldn't just get expelled, people would also blame us for letting you get killed.

ace: and you don't want that to happen, right?~

ace: so can't you just shut up and let those who actually can use magic do the work??

ace: .. hey, seth?

ace: why are you-

grim: what, you thought he's gonna listen to you?

grim: this guy is too busy texting others.

ace: WHA- IS THAT WHY YOU TOOK MY PHONE??

seth: it's your fault for not letting me join the group chat anyway.

ace: GIVE ME MY PHONE!

*ace takes his phone back*

seth: hehe, sorry, sorry.

seth: okay, so uh, what are we gonna do now?

*the dialogue goes just like in the canon version and ace and deuce start fighting. it goes like that until the iconic "then we face expulsion together" scene*

seth: *clears his throat*

seth: now, now, boys, you both are so adorable, i wish i could squish you, but let's stop fighting, okay?~

seth: i have to say, it was fun watching you argue all the time at first, but now..

seth: it's getting kinda boring.

ace: you had fun watching us argue?? dude, you sounded like some kind of.. i don't know, vance would say that you sound like a villain from one of those games of his.

deuce: it does sound kind of scary..

seth: why don't you two put your trust in me, someone who's older than both of you, and let me decide what we should do next?

ace: no.

deuce: i don't think it's a good idea.

grim: no way!

seth: *sighs*

seth: wow, you all sure respect me a lot.

seth: and i didn't even ask your opinion, grim-chan!

grim: i don't care, i will tell you my opinion anyway.

seth: then i will tell you what we should do whether you like it or not!

seth: so..

seth: sorry, boys, but we're all going to fight that thing together!

everyone: WHAT??

ace: you want me to work with you all??

ace: look who we've got here! a guy who's guilty for this whole chandelier incident, a cat and a magicless loser!

ace: what a team, am i right, everyone?

seth: oh, you finally remembered that grim-chan is a cat! vance-chan would be so proud of you!

ace: .. how many texts have you read?

seth: a lot.

deuce: seth, listen, i don't think you're as bad as everyone says, but..

deuce: i don't want to work with someone like ace.

seth: understandable! i wouldn't work with someone like ace-chan too if i had a choice!

ace: didn't you just say that i'm adorable and "you wish you could squish me"??

seth: you're adorable, ace-chan, but i still wouldn't work with someone like you. sorry, you just can be a dummy sometimes.

grim: you're not the best person to say that, you know.

seth: and you, grim-chan!

seth: don't just use your fire without thinking, okay? we have to plan this out! we have to work together as a team!

seth: because even though it's only been a day, i already see you as my friends!

ace: well, i don't?? see you all as my friends??

seth: sucks to be you, ace-chan! you're still my bestie and i won't let you get expelled because i love you so much!

seth: now, as i said, we have to come up with a plan. i'm counting on you all, so don't let me down~

grim: but we haven't even agreed to work together yet!

seth: ...

seth: fine.

seth: you can go back, get expelled together and continue living your boring and miserable lives as guys who got kicked out on their first day.

seth: but you don't want that, right?

seth: grim-chan! you want to prove everyone that you're the greatest magician in twisted wonderland, right?

seth: then prove it to me! show me that you can defeat that monster!

grim: but..

grim: no, you're right, of course i'm the greatest magician here! i won't even need these two idiots' help!

seth: deuce-chan! you want to become an honor student, right? you want to make your mom proud, right?

deuce: y-yes, i do!

seth: then you absolutely can't let crowley-chan kick you out! a true honor student wouldn't just run away in a situation like this!

ace: did you just call our headmaster "crowley-chan"??

deuce: you're right, but.. how can we defeat that thing? is that even possible?

seth: if you stay with us, i'm sure we'll be able to figure this out!

seth: i believe in you, deuce-chan, so please, believe in yourself too!

deuce: seth..

deuce: thank you so much! you're right, if it means that i won't get expelled, i'll agree to work even with this guy! i shouldn't let my relationship with him distract me from my goal!

ace: can you and that cat stop insulting me all the time??

seth: and you, ace-chan!

ace: oh, is it my turn already?

ace: fine, do you inspirational protagonist speech or whatever. you're definitely gonna compliment me though, right?

seth: i can't come up with anything good to say about you, but we need you too!

ace: ...

ace: are you serious right now?

seth: okay, we have to come up with some kind of strategy- wait, i forgot!

seth: i have to promise you a reward! you know, in case if you all lose your motivation again.

deuce: i thought not getting expelled is already a good motivation to keep going though-

seth: if you successfully defeat that monster, i'm gonna give you all headpats!

seth: i could pat you all on the head right now, honestly, you are just so cute..

seth: but your misbehavior makes you less cute, so i'm not gonna do that.

seth: so, do you feel motivated yet?

everyone: ...

ace: *whispering* remind me to lose that fight on purpose. not because i'm weak or anything, i can't let that guy touch me.

grim: *whispering* no, you're right, expulsion is lame, but his "reward" is even lamer.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

HEHE BRAINSTORM TIME!!! Ok wait I’ll save this section for last so it doesn’t get diluted in my responses LMAO I’m very glad some of my ideas proved useful to you in the past though!! Wasn’t really sure how they seemed from more of a writer’s perspective but I’m glad they worked out :))

No literally I remember after breeding I’d see the egg and just go yup off you go…also I remember then implementing like…elders at some point? Where you level them to 20 or something and they change form again and WOW THOSE WERE SO UGLY TOO

I’m laughing so hard when you put it like that Karasu was really going through it like damn I didn’t choose my name!!

FRRR I love the dynamic and the fluctuating power balance is my fav like they’re so complex it’s not just any cliche black and white scenario!!

YEARS!!! OOH BOY IM SO READY

I’m dying the “oh…sae….” LMAOOOOOO I loved the little brother moments and the way Sae was balanced between dry yet interested was >>>> like subtle in ways that would actually match his soccer loser personality a lot more then some of the suave fboy tropes that are more abundant….maybe it’s also because we share a lot of the same thoughts so I’m partial to the way you write their characters LOL

I’ve exhausted your BLLK masterlist and though I’m not knee deep in jjk anymore I still hold my favs dear to my heart so I’m gonna go check out that masterlist now….I literally just took a glance and 208K WORDS POMEGRANTE INK YUTA STORY??? SIGN ME UP AND THE INUMAKI ONE??? My JJK fixated self would’ve died for this I remember at some point those tags got kinda dry too (bc of Gojo hype I imagine LOL)

Ok but YUKI IDEAS ok so I’m not as passionate about yukimiya as some other characters (as I’m sure you’re aware LOL) so I’m not fully sure how hit or miss these are gonna be BUT I’m going to kinda categorize them by setting (??) or broad topic for convenience:

ok so there’s obviously some of the more cliche ones like where y/n is also a model and they collab and whatnot but I DO think that sort of au/universe has potential…? In the sense of the fic revolving more around Yuki’s career as a model so I’ll section this

MODEL CAREER:

- y/n is yuki’s manager, I can think of this also having many different ways to start but I’ll list out what first comes to mind: 1) childhood friends, y/n is with him when he first gets scouted and is the one who kinda encourages him to go for it, even just for fun. Like I imagine yuki contemplating it since he plays soccer obviously and has eye issues if he should take the job or whatever, but in exchange for him try he’s like “ok well I’m not doing this shit alone I’m dragging you with me so surprise you need to be my manager” (idk how realistic this is but shhhhhhh) 2) I’m realizing this entire setting is slightly difficult in a high school setting oops so I guess they can be in college..? But let’s just say they met in college and yuki’s like ugh my last manager was stealing my commission profits or something and is like cycling through managers like “damn they all SUCK and want my money or are trying to take advantage of the job” kinda and y/n is just like ok let me do it 3) y/n and yuki have no previous ties and y/n is just hired as his manager (maybe she’s an intern at his agency) after he gets scouted and they kinda just have to figure it out like “lmao we’re just finishing hs and have no idea how to do this shit” maybe because of their inexperience they get into a dating scandal LMAO

- Y/n dreams of being in the fashion industry and is kicking off her career by creating clothes and is now trying to form a sort of agency/company/brand to manufacture and advertise her fashion line. Obviously, her brand is gonna need some models/ambassadors to wear her clothing!! So, newbie y/n whose fresh in the industry is desperately looking for models to recruit to work with and stumbles upon yukimiya (I’d imagine at this point that he’s already an established model) I can imagine this going a few ways: 1. He refuses at first but y/n keeps hunting him down and asking (begging) him to join (maybe y/n is from a loaded family who disapproves of this career but has enough pocket money to fund her things and tries to increase her offer but yukimiya, who canonical does not care much for money, is like idc abt money LMAO), but maybe at some point y/n idk saves him from paparazzi or something or defamation and he’s like well I’m indebted to you so sure I’ll model and that’s how things kick off 2. This is a lot more meet cute like, but like most artists just starting out, I bet y/n is sleep deprived and lives in a coffee shop downing coffee while working on designs and company things and in her chaotic mess she rushes to stand up and spills coffee onto yukimiya, she offers him a free shirt or somthing from her line as an apology and yuki is either like “hey wait this shirt kinda slaps” and offers to model OR y/n goes “wait my b can I take a pic of you wearing my shirt I’ll pay you” but yeah LMAOAOA I just kinda wrote out what came to mind as I typed this so it’s definitely not very refined but if this serves as any form of inspiration go ahead and mold it as you see fit LOLLL

Eyes (duh LMAO):

- ok so this is the only one I can think of right now that maybe isn’t WILDLY cliche but ok so obviously yuki is devastated about his condition and the doctor sends him to a glasses shop (?) he recommends to get his specific prescription glasses and whatnot, let’s say y/n’s family owns this specific shop so every time he goes to get his glasses adjusted and prescription fixed she’s the one usually assisting him and yadayada they get to know each other and whatnot via those meetings, maybe he kinda hates her at first because every time he sees her it’s just a reminder that his vision is failing and that his dream is dying but eventually he warms up somehow

Penguins (ok so this one is kinda crack and formed from me looking through the Bible again because for the life of me I could not think of anything else to explore):

- model yuki’s next photoshoot involves ocean motifs so he goes to an aquarium with his crew to shoot. Ok again, as usually, I have a couple avenues for this too: 1) they have a shoot with the animals so Penguin handler/trainer y/n is in charge of bringing penguins to him to pose with him and whatever and obviously he’s omfg penguins and they start rambling about penguins and hit it off 2) during his visit he sees y/n through the glass feeding the penguins in the exhibit and eventually yuki just keeps coming back to the aquarium in his down time (because he likes penguins or otherwise the world will never know LMAO) and let’s just say they end up interacting somehow while y/n is on shift

Ok well now I wish we had more yukimiya lore (it would be really helpful if we had the LN right about now but actually I think I’ll have access to it in a couple days so I’ll def come back and dump more once we learn more from there….)

I’m NGL halfway through writing all this I was like “erm what am I even thinking” I started with an idea and it kinda just snowballed into this pile so LMAO hopefully this maybe gives you some ideas but admittedly I feel like I’ve had better brainstorming sessions oops…..will return once I get my hands on the novel (with ideas and summaries about the LN LOL)

I remember for fun I translated Hiori’s from scratch and that took way longer than I thought because of all the nuances and just me figuring out how to word things well LMAO maybe I’ll try again for practice though…..or I’ll take out the really important parts to type out but either way will return once that happens

-Karasu anon

ofc i can’t speak for every writer but at least me personally i feel like i rlly like being able to take requests in my own way?? like the more open ended a request/prompt is the more i’m like 😏 LMAOAO i think all of my longest/favorite requests have just been like character + trope (ex karasu + academic rivals, kaiser + pr relationship, sae + slowly falling in love, etc). so the more loose random thoughts you give me the better because i can use them as a starting point instead of being constrained by them 🤔 if that makes sense lol (not that i mind more specific requests HAHA anything works for me ofc!!)

i used to look up the eggs as soon as i got them just to see what they’d hatch into because some of those eggs were DECEIVING like the prettiest egg for the most mid dragon ever 😭 and omg the elder dragons were so…interesting…dragonvale truly the game of all time

karasu was going through it and he couldn’t even snap back because y/n could literally have him killed if she wanted to 😟 not that she WOULD but he was just standing there like “haha…girl you’re so funny…😭😭💔💔” GIVE MY MAN DAMAGE PAYYYY

i can’t wait to write more of otoya and y/n they truly are such an insane duo (plus dare i say a tabieitay/n trio may be in the future 😨⁉️) every time i write them interacting it’s like putting their personalities on steroids HAHAH they truly bring out the worst/best in each other

YUP YEARSSS we’re going to see y/n rise to power (in the same way oda nobunaga did) and then we’re also going to see how things end up for her (spoiler: not well, considering who everyone is based off of) so there’s quite a lot to get through!!

i agree we’re on the same wavelength w literally everything so it makes sense that we share interpretations of characters LMAOAOA we also both have a similar distaste for fanon fboy characterization which sae is a VICTIM to so when you put it that way it makes sense that you ended up enjoying him in seabird!! hehe i’m rlly happy you did though because honestly i was worried when i first posted it that i had made him ooc or smth just because i was so unfamiliar w him at the time 😩

POMEGRANATE INK IS TRULY SUCH A RIDE i started it in like 2022 and then it went on hiatus for over a year and then randomly i got so motivated that i wrote over 100k words in a month and finished the whole thing this january??? lmao its comeback is legendary on this blog 😭 honestly i’m also not that into jjk anymore but pomegranate ink specifically is so close to my heart like THAT’S what’s canon to me not whatever gege is up to!! it’s definitely very very long but it really runs the gamut…like angst?? cracky humor?? romance?? platonic/familial bonds?? side characters w plot relevance?? it has all of that plus more (as is to be expected given how long it is 😭) if you ever have the time or are bored it’s definitely one of my fav things i’ve written despite how questionable it is at first plus it has the bonus of being completed so i would 10/10 recommend you read it 👆🏻 if only so you can understand the post i made abt how yukimiya and mrs l/n from pomegranate ink could canonically know one another without making either verse an au.

SPEAKING OF YUKI OMG I LOVE YOUR IDEAS i will def take them into consideration…i agree out of tabieitaken he’s probably the one i’m hyped abt the least?? ironically their names are listed in the order of how much i love them KDJDKS but i’m sure if i ever write him as a main love interest instead of as just a pretty side obstacle my feelings will change v rapidly though!! sometimes writing men that are too much of green flags is like…boring…LMAO karasu is the right mix for me personally where he’s a green flag at heart but not afraid to be sassy when it’s necessary to keep things entertaining and dramatic 😫 like the entirety of fwtkac would not have happened if it was yuki because he’s too mature he’d just communicate w the mc and be like “hey that hurt my feelings when you said that about me so i’d prefer if you didn’t in the future. btw i actually have feelings for you!! 😊” bro 😭 but there def are avenues to getting around that i’ll just have to think abt it a bit before i get to writing!!

the way i already have more ideas for karasu and otoya though…heard the song best friend’s brother for the first time in a WHILE (on tik tok ofc because that app is truly my greatest muse) and maybe because we’ve been talking abt tabieita and their sisters but my mind IMMEDIATELY went to them HAHAHA like imagine being bffs w otoya’s younger sister and knowing exactly what kind of guy he is because she always complains abt him but then you end up falling for him anyways??? or like say karasu’s older sister is only a year or two older than him so you guys are p close in age but you always make fun of him for being a bit younger which makes him feel #mediocre because he’s actually in love w you real not clickbait!!! i thought abt yuki too but he just had to be an only child 😒 or else that trope could honestly work pretty well for him!!

[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. 

[staciass]

Yay I finished a book!!

Wow I raced through this so quickly.

Hmm so many thoughts but overall I did actually like it. I also see where those pesky “ACOTAR” comments came from but I liked it.

The Cinderella/Fantasy feel was really magical and I loved it!! It’s hard to do and do well but for me it worked.

The pacing was pretty good. Yeah the middle dragged a bit but there was so much action and so much going on that before I knew it we were reaching the end of the book and I was scared I was like how is this going to tie up enough to end this book without me hating the author but she did ittttt!

It reminded me of those paranormal romance books from like the 2010s I just loved it.

So the “twists” in the last part of the book were okay I mean I guessed them all apart from 1 of them which did surprise me.

I’m honest enough to admit that I’ve read a lot of books like this of with these tropes so it’s rare that a book will surprise me. For me it’s not about the destination but how you get there.

It did end on a sort of cliffhanger but it was a good one. Like when an author decides to split books up or have more than one (looking at you dualogies that are basically one book stretched out!) there is a good way to end the first/second/whichever book and an evil way to do it.

When I know a book has a cliffhanger ending I always dread it because the former is hard to do and the latter is what usually happens (to make you pick up the second book of course!) but this one didn’t make me want to hate the author!

There was a decent enough ending that I didn’t feel cheated but an ending that makes you NEED to get to the next book like asap! So I did exactly that!

Just a couple of thoughts I wanted to share regarding the book through so;

Sebastian. Yeah I was so glad at what the author did near the end of the book because reading this I was like No. he is not this squeaky clean good boi !! I was like no. I do not like him for Bree.

Speaking of Bree she did get a bit too stupid to live in the later-middle part of the books I was like giiiiiirl, use your brain !!!

Finn is hot and dark and brooding but I mean how is he even a love interest because he sucks almost as much as “Bash”.

Don’t hate me but I just want her to be like yeah I don’t want either of you assholes lmao. To hell with those two honestly.

I really kinda hope we get a new love interest in THESE TWISTED BONDS. Like Bree deserves so much better than them losers lmao !!!

But yeah I did love this so for me 4 Stars !!!!

[avelera]

OFMD Season 2 Prediction: The Redemption of Blackbeard

Ok ok, so, another thought around Stede's "glow up" at the end of Season 1 (I mean, just look at his hair, his posture, the romantic puffy shirt, the single hand raised like a beacon to hail his crew, the everything wow) but with Stede now looking so amazing and Ed being so fucking horrible at the very end, I think we're going to get a reversal of the S1 theme of "Why the heck does Blackbeard like this loser Stede?" turning into "Why the heck does Stede like this monster Blackbeard?"

(cut for length because of who I am as a long-winded person)

Quick context, but one thing I saw across my many years as a fanfic writer over many fandoms was lot of kvetching over whether one person in the ship deserved the other person. You write a fic where one of them supports the other and get the inevitable troll being like "OK but why does this person deserve this perfect angel of a character," or whatever. It's an irritating comment when used to ship-police people but there is an interesting kernel of truth in it for writers, because too often romances (especially generic male-gaze het romances) can ignore whether or not we have some evidence that the protagonist is actually worthy of this beautiful, incredible love interest's affections. (By the way, with Bagginshield I saw trolls pestering people about both characters not being good enough for the other so eh, I don't take the trolls too seriously.)

But the thing is, in "Our Flag Means Death" Stede is.... kinda pathetic in the first season. I mean, it's real, legitimate question that everyone is asking, especially Izzy Hands, of why the fuck the legendary pirate Blackbeard is giving this guy Stede the time of day, let alone swooning over him.

I mean, Blackbeard as a love interest is legitimately amazing. He's the most remarkable sailor a hard-ass like Izzy has ever met, his name strikes so much fear that he doesn't need to fire a shot. But he's also sensitive and vulnerable and wonderful about Stede's hobbies. He's A+ red silk boyfriend material, caring about Stede, being patient with him, and generally looking at Stede like he hangs the moon. It's wonderful stuff.

Now, we as the audience see firsthand how Ed and Stede complete and fulfill each other in intimate moments that few other characters see but let's be honest... Stede still kind of sucks. He's still a deadbeat dad, he's often self-absorbed and oblivious to what other people want (like when he barges into his wife's new life, or even just when he tries repeatedly to force his crew into his vision of a healthy lifestyle, regardless of what they want). There is a legitimate question to be asked if Stede is worthy of Ed. And by the end of Season 1 we have the answer, he's glowed up. Stede's a romantic hero now, he's dealt with his bullshit and he's become worthy of Blackbeard's affection as a self-actualized adult ready to be his full, authentic self with Ed.

Ok that's great and all, like that's a pretty standard emotional arc, especially in a romance, but what does that mean for Season 2?

Well, in Season 2, I think we're going to get the formula reversed. Stede is all windswept and handsome and self-actualized, he settled his family drama, he's realized who he is and who he loves and all his good qualities like caring for his crew are going to stop being silly unwanted eccentricities and really make him the "better" partner of the two, I mean goddamn he almost looks angelic in the last shot, it's the promise of the Gentleman Pirate that Blackbeard was swooning over in the first place.

But Ed? Ed has fallen into shadow. He's got messy eyeliner and he kills without blinking, tortures without remorse, and has clearly descended into a pit of self-loathing. He's a fucking mess. We might even have moments where we wonder if he's redeemable (IMO, Lucius is alive but that's a pretty serious line that Ed crossed by trying to kill a member of Stede's beloved crew).

As fanfic readers/romance watchers, that rather valid question of "Does Character A even deserve Character B?" is going to be deliciously flipped. Does Ed deserve someone as wonderful and caring as Stede? And my deepest, dearest hope is that we will get the same luxurious, intimate journey from the darkest pits of Ed's worst self to show how he's going to become worthy of the person Stede has become.

[yaomomvs]

— BEING INARIZAKI’S TEAM MANAGER AND A SECRET VOLLEYBALL PLAYER

inarizaki x f!manager

this is part of a hcs series, let me now what team you want next <3

okay so actually you ended being the manager because the girls volleyball team had already closed the application time

so you you were really looking forward to it and omg you were so sad about it

after being rejected, you were just peacefully going through the gym and you heard laughter from a bunch of guys

you recognized kosaku since he was in your class and waved at him.

and so, they were talking about getting a manager since this team is pretty much a lot to handle

and so since kosaku knew you were hard working and that the first idea that popped out oh his head was that if you wanted to try out.

kita respectfully introduced himself and asked if you were willingly try out 🥺🥺🥺 like what a man 🥺🥺

and mostly because the twins having fangirls always made this process kind of difficult, so instead kita and aran wanted to make sure it was someone who at least was trusted by one of them

and not to brag but bestie you are gorgeous

so it was a win win

atsumu refused to this because as the jerk he usually is, he said that he didn’t need any help

that son of a bitch

he was being soooo petty mainly after you said “oh don’t worry kita, idiots are not my type”

osamu fell in love with you ❗️

and aran

and suna

and well the team.

and so, looking at the other court where the girl vbc was training you said that it was something.

every! single! practice! is! chaotic!

but somehow you managed them so well

atsumu is still trying to prove that he doesn’t but oh boy he is the first one to requiere your help

you better believe this guys are your simps and are constantly competing over someone who a year ago could never imagine they had

your attention? the best way to prove each other they were superior

in away games, god bless the idiot that wants to even dares to try to do a move on you

they are lowkey intimidating

not but seriously

specially and surprisingly kita and aran

son como esos niños mamones fresas que de cierto modo les tienes miedo

besides

this team? over the moon for you

and tbh, they were so grateful for you, you did a lot for them that they started to feel some kind of embarrassing how before they wouldn’t know how to do basic stuff like cooking for camps, labeling they jerseys correctly, searching for new equipment like they love you

anyways that however was kinda sus to them

it all started when somehow you learned so quickly, and the technical stuff was not hard to understand as to others

surprisingly the first one to notice was suna

you could have said something but tbh

you still look forward to play volleyball like more seriously even as a hobby

BUT

BUT

you’d rather be dead than telling your team that’s what you wanted because

a) they could think you only joined to learn volleyball and not help them

b) you had your pride, you want to be recognized by your own merits rather than “of course, they are inarizaki’s manager if they weren’t they could have never been this good”

so you still played volleyball but hid from them

there was a gym nearby where constant tournaments were held

you were a ghost because knowing damn well your boys could go there at any moment you decided to take some precautions

like nickname and position was everything they knew about you

your teammates loved you, so they respected your private life, and it was kind of cool

but what you were not expecting is that for some reason, omimi had followed you one day bc you forgot something after practice.

being a friday it meant for some weird reason you always rushed out

“sus” suna says everytime

so he catches you going out to the gym and maybe, he thought, you were just going to workout or see someone

BUT THIS GUYS EYEBALLS ALMOST FALL WHEN HE SEES TOY RUSH AND TAKE OFF YOUR SCHOOL UNIFORM SHIRT AND TIE TO FUCKING REVEAL A JERSEY WUTH A #3 on it

bye you broke him

and so he tries to process it normally

key word: tries

and here we are him being interrogated by the team incredulous to his words.

ay first they interrogated him being overprotective by the fact that he was spending more time with you but when he tells them what he saw god dammit

they loose it when they find out.

and so, tsumu says something that everyone agrees with him for the first time

“let’s go and spy”

“i swear to god if y/n finds out...”

“shut up aran, unless you want to make it obvious and reveal our identity dumbass!”

“tsumu, the disguises are awful”

“come on kita not you too!”

“what if”

“akagi shut up all of you agreed with the idea”

“osamu you suck”

and so there they go. trying to find you in the sea of people at the entrance, not having a clear view yet, they only search for the navy blue and white uniform that omimi described to them when he saw you.

and then almost as if it was the gods plan, they started hearing whispers of people around mentioning the arrival of one of the most popular teams out there.

“come on what the big deal-” suna started saying, however your figure appeared and he instantly turned into a babbling mess.

as well as the rest of inarizaki vbc.

osamu had to double check to assure himself that it indeed was you, beautiful as ever, walking alongside your hot and apparently talented team.

minutes later, they were standing in the bleachers as quiet as they could. they spotted you.

“A SETTER” atsumu jumped of his seat and had to be scolded by aran who was also surprised by the position you were going to be playing.

“wasn’t expecting that” ginjima talks saying what everyone was currently thinking.

behind them was a couple of guys, who apparently did not know how lower their comments.

“the setter is kinda cute” “wow look at that” oml please even aran who was the voice of reason had the urge to punch them in the face.

still they decided to just focus on your game who has now been started. and even tho they wanted to not do it, they couldn’t help analyzing you and your moves in the court. it was natural, well because they were players and very good ones it’s inevitable for them to compare and to study the way you played more than anything.

they were not expecting you to be this good. almost everything in your technique was polished, your tema work was remarkable and god bless your ability to read the blockers.

but there was a moment when they just saw the panoramic view of your skills. atsumu could see your tired expression, the sweat on your body, he just knew you were feeling now the adrenaline of the last moments of the set.

still you yelled a “we will take it” and then, with the others team hope hanging on a thread, the ball came to your libero, which perfectly passed the ball to you.

there was greed in your eyes, so scary that kita for a moment feared for the other team.

and it was when you did the setter dump that your whole team stood up in pure shock.

who were you and why were you hiding?

sadly the boys screamed way too loud which lead to you, after you made the last point and give the history to your tema, lifted up your gaze and saw a bunch of idiots wearing hats and everything in between.

suna and tsumu ran the fastest in the team directly to the gate, and the with a bunch of losers behind them,

because after everything you were there arms crossed and a murderous look in your eyes.

“IM TOO YOUNG TO DIE Y/N” “osamu shut up!”

they, once you made sure to pinch each and everyone’s ears, starred bombarding questions on how did you managed to learned that and why you did ikr tell them

“come on guys, in school i’m already looked down at just because it’s you! so could you imagine me being a inarizaki student trying to move without your name?”

kita forced them to shut up and aran felt a a kind of guilt

as week as everyone else

“don’t worry y/n, we know now what it’s like to not being your own author.”

and so, they just told you how proud they were.

“maybe we are jerks but y/n we are your jerks, and over there or respect to you has just grown up”

suna the says “you’ve been there all of the time for a while now, i guess it out time to return the favor”

and so ever since then they alwaaaaays try to be at your games

like pls once the referee said one of your serves was out and from the bleachers he screaaaaaaamed, he claims that it was definitely in

kita always gives you some food after a game or practice

talking about practice

even if you are there for being a manager they always try to, at least half an hour before ending practice, they have a quick game with you playing alongside them or just including you in their repeats etc

and goooood bless once again anyone who tried to look down at you.

because after being constantly on you games ofc people started recognizing them as the inarizaki power house

if they heard someone relying your talent on them pls make sure they five them the coldest look ever

like ‘nah bro i dare you to say that one more time’

*knive eyes*

and

even some girls attend your games trying to flirt with them

you know what they do?

they brush them off and say “sorry, my type is y/n” suna says and the are 😳

pretty much everyone does this

come on even aran

inarizaki best boys 🥺🥺🥺