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#beomgyu headcanons
jjuniehao · 11 months
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random texts with bf!beomgyu
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pairing: beomgyu x gn!reader
genre: fluff <3
noteworthy: nothing really?? are we seeing this…i’m posting?!
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4K notes · View notes
niningtori · 17 days
Text
supermodel | oneshot
part two
pairing: choi beomgyu x you
summary: after beomgyu ghosts you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, your close friend asks you if she can date him instead. you, being the pushover you are, say yes. but beomgyu's not done bothering you.
genre: romance, angst, smut (MDNI!!!)
warnings: MDNI!!! cheating (but it's lowkey justified if you ask me), unprotected sex (no!), oral (f. receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, manipulative!beomgyu if you squint (lmk if you catch it lmao), if i missed anything lmk
word count: 6k (ouuu... definitely not 13k i'm sorry anon my love)
notes: ...hi. so, as most of my followers know, i primarily write angst. this is my first time ever posting smut on here and i genuinely don't know if it's any good. if it's bad,,,, i'm sorry in advance!! see ending for more notes :)
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you do not like beomgyu. you don't like the way he keeps his hair so long, or the way he tucks it behind his ears when he's focused. you don't like that he has the same music taste as you and how much of a snob he is about it. you don't like the way he laughs obnoxiously loud and you especially don't like the way his cheeks dimple like little whiskers when he does it. no, you don't like beomgyu one bit.
it hasn't always been like this. there was a time, albeit brief and fleeting, that you really liked the aforementioned grievances you've grown to hate so much. in fact, you liked them so much, you even liked the boy himself. that ship has sailed, though. and it sails further and further as you watch him cuddle up even closer to one of your closest friends, hana. you aren't a bitter person, really. you're usually pretty laidback, all things considered, so when hana asked you if she could date the boy who ghosted you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, you said yes. 
do you regret agreeing? well, how can you regret it when hana looks so happy? in fact, she looks happier than ever as beomgyu discreetly places his hand on her inner thigh. oh man. you think you're gonna be sick.
-
meeting beomgyu was like a meet cute in a romcom. you were alone in a cafe (cliché, but true) when he pulled up a seat and sat next to you. he was cute, he was charming, and, most surprisingly, he was actually really funny. he made you giggle more than once and you almost couldn't believe someone so seemingly perfect wanted anything to do with you, but he did. he was extremely eager, if anything, because as soon as you gave him your number, he texted you asking if you wanted to go out sometime. you, with your innocent heart, could only agree. 
your first date was at that same cafe. he had memorized your order, even though he had only met you once, and you felt so flattered your heart skipped a beat. you're a little on the shyer side, but he was able to pull you out of your shell with ease. you'd later find out he has the ability to do that with everyone, but back then, you were amazed by how naturally he pulled it off.
after your first date, you'd texted all your friends about it. they asked for pictures and details, but you said it was too early and you didn't want to jinx it. you're the type to try not to get too caught up in the moment in favor of being more realistic, so it had been a pleasant surprise for most of your friends to hear how excited you were. this could really be something special, you thought. 
and special, it was. your second date had been at a nice restaurant you'd never heard of. beomgyu was pulling out all the stops for you and spared nothing when it came to giving you the royal treatment. he was courteous and kind, but still mischievously flirty. you were enamored with everything about him. you were used to being treated kindly on dates, of course, but you had never seen anything quite like beomgyu. it seemed like he couldn't get enough of you, which was a novel feeling, though totally welcomed.
you finally felt confident enough to tell your friends all about him. when asked, you had no problem divulging all the finer details of your dates. you had nothing but praises for him, and even sent one of his instagram pictures to show off his good looks. most of them were taken aback at how handsome he was. hana, however, was not at all surprised. it shocked you to find out that she knew beomgyu, and knew him well. she had floated in the same circle of friends with him in college and you were pleased to find out that he had always been a really nice guy, if a little flighty at times, but he had never been that way with you. plus, it seemed to you that he had matured quite a bit. for once in your life, you got your hopes up. but, like most things, you would come to regret it. 
your third and final date had been simple enough. he had asked you to come hang out at his place, but said his friends would likely be coming and going. it was nice. it was intimate. his apartment was small and a little messy, but filled with personality. you smiled when you saw polaroids he had taken of (and with) his friends adorning his bedroom walls. he seemed really sentimental, actually, but you liked that about him. you liked everything about him, really. 
so when he leaned in for a kiss while watching some dumb old slasher flick, you closed your eyes and prepared to meet his warm lips. this was real. you would have a boyfriend, a near perfect one. and he liked you. he really, really liked you. what more could you ask for? but you never expected that a phone call would pull you out of your daze. you checked the caller id and immediately became worried. hana very rarely called you, but she said she was having an emergency and you, being the good friend you are, had to bail on beomgyu. the emergency in question was her having a meltdown over some guy she had never even mentioned, but had apparently really liked. you had no choice but to go to her place, bringing a tub of ice cream and all of her favorite snacks in tow. beomgyu said he understood, because of course he did, and said he would text you with other plans. 
when he, in fact, did not text you first with plans, you had opted to text him yourself. you figured he had just forgotten or something, so you simply greeted him and apologized again for having to leave. it seems so fucking stupid to you now — the way you waited so anxiously by the phone for a reply that would never come. you remember staying up all night and jolting every time your phone buzzed. you were anxiously awaiting a text, a call, fucking  anything, really. but it was pointless. after a few days of radio silence on beomgyu's end, you had pretty much resigned yourself to the fact that he would never respond. what did you do to scare him away? you thought you had done everything right, but you must’ve come on too strong or something. you felt utterly humiliated. 
you were in your head again. it wouldn't surprise you if you had imagined the whole fucking thing, actually. but a few weeks later, hana had texted you asking if you were okay with her dating the boy you'd been waiting for. she seemed so hopeful and so happy, how could you say no? just because it didn't work out between you two didn't mean that it couldn't work out between them. maybe, deep down, the ugliest parts of you kind of hoped it wouldn't, but when she texted you with all the filthy details of the first time they hooked up, you knew you were thinking too highly of yourself. 
-
beomgyu doesn't like you, and even if his refusal to text you back wasn't enough of an indication that that's the case, his attitude towards you while dating hana tells you everything you need to know. the way he manages to antagonize you over what would normally be completely menial things should be studied. when you trip over your words, he makes a point to call it out and laugh, which results in you, of course, tripping over your words even more. when you look like shit, he makes sarcastic comments along the lines of "oh i see you've decided to really doll yourself up this evening". what's worse is you're so non-confrontational, you just let him chirp. 
what you don't know is that the more unbothered you look, the more eager he is to elicit a reaction out of you. it drives him crazy how nothing seems to drive you crazy, so he pushes and pushes, but it's like a fist landing on cotton. he's on the brink of madness trying to get you to say something, anything. but you never do. you just smile or shake your head and it's all he can do not to snap. 
-
you’re at your favorite bar when you meet him. you’re not alone, or at least you shouldn’t be, but hana has gone outside to make a call. usually, you’d be the first one to accompany her, but you’re honestly not in the mood to hear her flirt with beomgyu (or beomie bear, as she calls him) over the phone. you never are, really, but especially not now as you down another shot of whatever the bartender has deemed as “the strongest shit they’ve got.” you don’t think you look particularly attractive at the moment, but when jay sees you, he’s flocking towards you. 
“hey,” he says with a smile as he slides onto the stool next to yours. 
“hey,” you reply shyly. are you imagining things or did he seriously just blush at your answer? 
“i-i’m jay.” you can’t help but giggle at how nervous he seems. cute. 
you take the time to introduce yourself and jay seems relieved that you’re actually receptive to his awkwardness. you like the way it feels to be in control for once. you like the way it feels to be wanted so much. so when he asks you if you want to go out in the near future, you say yes.
in the midst of your conversation, hana comes sauntering back in with a dopey grin on her face. she has, no doubt, just gotten off the phone with beomgyu if her satisfied expression is any indication. her satisfaction turns into surprise when she registers who’s sitting next to you.
“jay?!” she exclaims, taken aback by the familiar boy next to you. 
“hana? oh my god, how are you?” he asks, standing up and pulling her into a hug. “we went to college together,” he explains when they part. your previous happiness crumbles in an instant. the nasty part of you wonders if she knows fucking everybody you’re interested in, but you shut it down mercilessly. it's not hana’s fault she's so likable. it's your fault for not being more so, actually.
“i’m good,” she says with a light giggle. they catch up for a moment before she drops an atomic bomb. “you know, i’m actually with beomgyu now.” 
“damn, really? i thought that would never actually happen,” he replies, genuine shock falling across his sculpted features. your interest can’t help but be piqued at this.
“what makes you say that?” she asks rather defensively. jay can tell he messed up from her tone and he backtracks immediately. 
“o-oh nothing. i just never pegged you two as compatible, but congratulations! i know you’ve liked him for a long time.” ?... ??...???? what the hell? 
“what is he talking about?” you can’t help but ask confusedly. hana looks thoroughly reddened as she fumbles for an explanation.
“i-i liked beomie back in college. n-nothing major!” she stammers. you can do nothing but stare. she liked beomgyu and she never told you? well, you were half in love with the boy after three dates and you’re still half in love with him, actually, so it’s not particularly surprising that she fell for him, but the fact that she never mentioned it feels iffy at best. jay can sense the tension, and he cleverly excuses himself with:
“shit, my friends are here. i’ll text you soon?” he says, looking to you for confirmation. you manage to muster up a smile and a nod, but you’re still disturbed by this revelation.
“... are you mad?” hana asks tentatively. 
“n-no. of course not!” you say with conviction, but deep down, you know you’re uncomfortable. she probably knows it, too, but she doesn’t pry much further.
“i’m glad you’re not mad,” she sighs. “anyway, it’s not like you’re dating him now.” she pokes at the sore spot on your heart with ease. maybe if she were more sober, she’d see the hurt on your face, but as it is, she doesn’t register a thing.
so hana liked beomgyu back in college? why hadn’t she told you? well, you guess it doesn’t make a difference now. she’s with him. you’re not. what else is there to say, really? but in the back of your mind, gears start turning. you just don’t know it yet.
 -
hana has been a lot nicer to you than usual after that night at the bar. she’s always nice, but she seems hellbent on making sure your prospective date with jay goes well. you suppose it’s her way of making it up to you for withholding her secret crush on beomgyu from you. to be honest, there’s no real reason for her to do so, but you accept her kindness graciously. now, the night before your big date, she’s practically hounding you with questions.
“what are you gonna wear?” she asks over the phone. 
“mmm, i dunno yet,” you hum into the speaker. you really don’t know. jay invited you to a house party, which is not the most romantic place in the world, but hana convinced you that he’s just awkward and a group setting (with drinks, no less) would loosen him up. you realize that you want to impress him. you want him to think you’re the most beautiful girl in the room, but nothing you have in your closet quite fits the bill.
“ooh, i know! you can just borrow one of my dresses. what about the black one? the one you complimented last time we went out! i won’t be home tomorrow night, but i’ll leave the key under the mat, okay? so just come grab it when you’re free!” she sounds proud of herself for coming up with that. you don’t have the heart to tell her it’s a little too scandalous for you, so you grit your teeth and accept her peace offering.
“mmm, yeah. that sounds good. thank you, hana,” you reply.
“pay attention to meeee,” you hear a deep voice cut in from over the phone. beomgyu. you try not to think about the way your heart aches when you hear him (very loudly) plant a kiss on… some part of her body. you’re not exactly sure where it is, but you falter when you hear her reaction.
“beomie, ah, not there,” hana moans and you feel a pang in your chest. “hey, i’ve gotta go, okay?” you don’t have to imagine what they’re about to do and it hurts.
“okay,” you say with a bitter smile, but the call drops before you can even reply. 
-
it’s finally the night of the date and you’re anxious, to put it mildly. you don’t know how long you spent trying to get your hair and makeup right, but an ungodly amount of time has passed. you’re almost tempted to skip getting the dress from hana’s apartment, but you really don’t have anything else that suits the occasion, so you begrudgingly hail a cab over to her place. 
you enter her apartment and head toward her bedroom, where the pretty black dress is waiting for you. with a sigh, you strip out of your sweats and shimmy into the dress. you look in hana's bedroom mirror and you have to admit that you look pretty good. you feel a lot more confident going out with a guy as handsome as jay now. as you’re fixing up your hair one last time, you’re stunned to hear the apartment door opening. she’s home? weird, but welcome. you need a second pair of eyes on you.
“hey! how do i look?” you say with a smile as you exit her bedroom, but you’re not greeted with hana’s smiling face. instead, you’re met with beomgyu’s frown. 
“w-what are you doing here?” you ask, genuinely surprised. 
“this is my girlfriend’s apartment. what are you doing here?” you thought he had heard over the phone that you’d be here to pick up the dress tonight. but then, you supposed that he may have been a little preoccupied sucking the skin off of hana to really pay attention to much else. you’re so busy over analyzing this, you don’t even notice how intently beomgyu is staring at you now. even if you did, you’d probably misread it as ridicule rather than what it truly is. 
“nothing, i-i’m on my way out,” you reply simply. with that, you start trying to walk past him. before you can, though, he’s asking you questions.
"you're seriously going out with him? in that, too?” he asks, disgust apparent. at least, that’s what it sounds like to you. your eyes survey your own attire and you feel extremely small in this moment, all things considered. normally, you'd shut down and second guess yourself. maybe you do look a little ridiculous in this tiny dress and maybe going out with jay is a bad in idea. maybe he's just fucking with your head and maybe he'll toss you away just like beomgyu did. maybe, maybe, maybe. but then? maybe not. and even if he does, you don't want to hear any of that shit from beomgyu of all people. 
"oh, fuck you, beomgyu." 
he looks perfectly scandalized by your comment. you’ve never talked back to him before, and certainly not like this. his eyebrows raise and his jaw drops before he can finally choke out the words "e-excuse me?"
"i said fuck you. i really don't give a shit about what you have to say anymore." 
you're again trying to barrel past him but he steps in front of the door, scowl etched into his pretty features.
"what? are you mad at me now?" you say mockingly. "well, you don't get to be mad at me. move."
it is genuinely amazing to see beomgyu as he is now. he looks like a child who's floundering for a comeback. 
"w-why are you mad? i'm just looking out for you!" oh, you can't help but laugh in his face at that one. he winces when you do.
"my god, that's rich coming from you. what's the worst that could happen? we go on a couple of dates and then he ghosts me? can't say it hasn't happened before."
"th-that's different!" he sputters, face flushing beet red.
"different how?!" you counter. he’s such a fucking hypocrite. you're not the type to get so riled up, but his words have you seeing red. his next words, even more so.
"you... you don't even like me!"
"and why exactly would i like the man who ghosted me, again? you can kick rocks for all i care!" you try to steady your breathing. blowing up like this right before your first date with jay can't be good for your head. luckily, it seems like beomgyu is still fishing for words when you regain your composure. "whatever. i'm done. goodbye, beomgyu." you reach around him for the door handle, but he slams it shut. 
"what the fuck?!" you exclaim exasperatedly. 
"you don't understand," beomgyu says, voice trembling and eyes scarlet. "hana said you didn't like me." 
"hana? what does hana have to do with — oh." oh.
"she said you didn't like me and thought i was obnoxious. she told me she called and interrupted our date because you wanted her to.” 
“why didn’t you just ask, beomgyu? i liked you!” you exclaim. he ruined everything all because of a few words from someone else? 
“why would i ask when hana told me that you didn’t want anything to do with me?”
"so you believed hana instead of just opening your fucking mouth? what, does she wipe your ass and spoon feed you, too?
“watch your mouth,” beomgyu says lowly. 
“or what?” you taunt with a smirk. “you’ll be mad? is beomie bear gonna lose his temper?” you’re on your tiptoes now, face mere inches away from his. where you got the confidence to provoke the man who towers over you even on the worst of days, you have no idea, but the idea of seeing beomgyu squirm is lighting a fire in you you didn’t know existed. is he gonna hit you? scream in your face? you’re excited to see how he reacts. when his gaze flickers from your smiling eyes to your lips, you don’t even get half a second to question his odd look when his lips come crashing down onto yours. 
his big hands grip the back of your head, holding you in place as he punishes your lips with a force you’ve only ever dreamt about. his lips are chapped and you can taste a hint of his favorite lip balm, which he had smeared on just before his arrival. you’re too shocked to move, you’re too shocked to do anything besides gasp when he bites your bottom lip. he takes your open mouth as permission to shove his warm tongue into it. you want to say the kiss is full of fire, and it is, but there’s an overwhelming sense of gentleness, too. it’s hard to put into words, so instead of trying to, you let yourself melt into the feeling. he takes your acquiescence as a sign to go even further. at this point, he’s practically dragging you over to the couch. you’re surprised at how you don’t even attempt to resist when he pushes you down. you’re seated now and he licks his lips hungrily as he lifts your pathetic excuse for a dress off of your body and tosses it somewhere behind the couch. his eyes alight with something akin to raw anger when he takes note of the fact that you are, in fact, not wearing a bra.
“you were seriously gonna go out like that? what a whore,” he says menacingly. you’re now clad in nothing but your favorite pair of underwear. you would usually feel insecure in front of such an intense gaze, but beomgyu looks at you like he wants to devour every part of you. and he will, with time.
“i thought jay would like it,” you shrug. his eyes burn even brighter and he looks like he’s on the brink of snapping. god, fucking with him is so exhilarating. is this how he feels when he’s trying to get under your skin? maybe you do understand why he antagonizes you, actually. this shit feels amazing.
he kneels down before you and possessively kisses your neck until it's numb — pouring out hot kisses and sucking on the skin there like he’s staking his claim. it’s almost like he’s daring another man to touch you, and he doesn’t have to say anything because it’s like you already understand his intentions, and you revel in it. 
his lips travel down to your breasts and they almost ache in anticipation. cruelly, he avoids your pert nipples and opts to circle his tongue around them, sucking on the soft skin and leaving marks in his wake. one of his hands move down to your underwear and he stops his teasing when he feels how wet you are.
“j-jesus, is all this for me?” you’re too embarrassed to respond. he’s trying to keep his cool, but he’s taken aback by how soaked you are. he was already hard just from the kiss alone, but now he aches. he slides your underwear to the side and actually groans when he sees your slickness for himself. slowly, teasingly, he finds his way to your clit and you let out a soft gasp when he finally touches it. you’re unable to stifle a moan when he gingerly takes one of his long, calloused fingers and begins to push it into your cunt. 
“t-tight!” he hisses. “how am i gonna fit?” you’d roll your eyes in annoyance at his self-aggrandizing words if you could muster up anything other than the feeling of pure bliss as he slides another finger in. he’s kneeling between your legs, and you feel some sort of sick satisfaction as you watch the boy lick his lips before trailing opened-mouth kisses on your thighs as he inches closer and closer to your cunt.
you feel his cool breath against your core and you’re seconds away from begging him to continue, but he seems even more eager than you are as he quickly buries his face into your heat. his first lick is long and slow, but you can feel the vibrations from his moan and it reverberates through your legs all the way to your toes. as if he’s a man starved, he messily licks and sucks on your pussy while pumping his fingers in and out mercilessly. you have to hold onto his long hair, not because you want to hurt him, but because it’s the only thing keeping you sane. when he hooks his fingers, you can’t help but call out his name. 
“b-beomgyu!” his darkened eyes snap up to meet yours while his pace becomes even more punishing and, before you know it, you’re spasming around his fingers. he should stop there, but he continues with little kitten licks until you’re begging him to show you mercy. 
he reluctantly parts from your cunt and you can see evidence of your release dripping down his chin. his messy hair, his soaked face, his fucking everything looks like it’s been branded by you and you can’t help but gulp, heat pooling in your stomach again, far too soon after your intense orgasm. usually, a man would wipe his face and clean himself up, but he does nothing of the sort as he leans towards you and practically pleads with you to kiss him.
“so good, want you to taste it,” he says simply as he pulls you in for another filthy kiss. he looks possessed, almost, by your taste. by your scent. by you.
your cum mixed with the taste of beomgyu himself is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. he wraps his tongue around yours, as if he’s selflessly just trying to share this new discovery.
he unbuckles his own pants like a madman, hastily yanking them down. so hypnotized, he doesn’t even think to take them off all the way, nevermind his shirt. his cock springs up and it’s thick and long, the angry veins juxtaposing from his perfect, doll-like face. he was right. you don’t know how he’ll fit in your tight pussy.
still, he ruts his bare cock against your throbbing cunt and you both moan when it accidentally catches against your entrance. 
“c-condom?” you ask breathily. 
“p-please, please just let me feel you. i can pull out,” he whines. who are you to say no to a man begging?
“...o-okay,” you begin to choke out, and almost before you can even finish, he’s pushing himself in. you both groan at the feeling. he meets resistance before he’s even halfway in and his eyes redden with a lust so strong it almost scares you. 
“s-so tight, so perfect for me,” he says before pulling out and harshly ramming himself back in, sheathing himself completely in you. your eyes begin to sting with pure pleasure. he sits for a moment, just enjoying the way your pussy sucks him in. nothing in your life has ever made you feel this heavenly. not that you’re going to heaven, especially after this, and certainly not if hana has anything to say about it. oh my god, hana.
“w-wait,” you interrupt before he can pull out again. “we can’t! hana—” 
“don’t give a fuck about hana. j-jus’ want you,” he slurs with that lisp that you love so much. and that’s when he really starts. ruthlessly, he sets his pace. ramming into you as the filthy sounds of skin against skin and slick against slick permeate the room. his head lulls back in sheer ecstasy and you’re crying out his name over and over, like a mantra. it’s the only thing chaining you to reality. that, and his viselike grip on your thighs. 
“so g-good, so warm. never h-had a pussy this good before,” he praises as he continues drilling into you. one of his hands snakes its way to your clit and you’re seeing stars. hot tears spring in your eyes and you’re literally crying as his cock pushes you further and further off the deep end. 
“so fucking good for me. you wouldn't even care if i came inside, would you, slut? walking around in that tiny dress, just begging to be fucked.” 
“n-no! i’m not begging f-for anything,” you manage to choke out.
“really? but you look pretty fucking desperate right now. should i stop?” he asks with a mean smile, slowing down the speed of his hips snapping into yours.
“please don’t! i-i’m sorry. please don’t stop!” you whimper. he wasn’t gonna stop, anyway, but watching tears pour out of your eyes at the mere thought of his cock not being inside of you brings him to another level of smugness.
“shh, it’s okay, baby. i won’t stop. i’ll give you exactly what you need.”
“b-beomie!” you cry. “not gonna last much longer!” 
“me neither, pretty girl. fuck, come with me, okay?” he hisses. 
“come inside?” you plead. he almost stills at this, but his brutal pace never stops despite it all. 
“fuck! i knew that good girl act was a sham. you want me to get you pregnant so everyone knows who you belong to?”
“yes! d-don’t care. just want you,” you whine, mirroring his words from earlier. that’s enough to make him lose himself. his resolve snaps and he’s painting the inside of your walls while you helplessly clench around him. it takes a minute to catch your breath and you can’t help but lock eyes with beomgyu as he stays buried in your warmth. his gaze is still lustful, that much you know, but there’s an unknown feeling teeming in his eyes, too.
gingerly, he pulls out and you both watch as his cum trickles out of you. his eyes are alight with fascination and you don’t doubt for a second that he wants to lap it all up and feed it right back to you, but he doesn’t. he simply grabs your cheeks and pulls you in for another heavy kiss.
“wanted to do this for so long,” he says after you part. 
“how long?” you can’t help but ask. 
“since i saw you sitting alone at the café,” he shrugs and smiles shyly. he’s wanted you since he first saw you, which is enough to make you grin, but the blissful smile is wiped off of your face when you remember beomgyu isn’t just some random guy who’s attracted to you. he’s hana’s boyfriend. 
you know now that she orchestrated the downfall of your relationship with beomgyu, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel guilty as hell for fucking her boyfriend on her couch. oh my god, what have you done? you fucked your friend’s boyfriend in her own home. not only that, but you fucked raw and even let him come inside. you shiver when you recount his nasty words about getting you pregnant, and he really might’ve. you’re not on the pill or anything. oh god. 
“i-i need to get out of here,” you say frantically. you hurriedly push him off of you and wince when you feel his cum leaking out of your cunt. you stumble to the bedroom, legs still weak from what just transpired, and grab your sweats and snake them back on. 
“what are you doing?” beomgyu asks, confused and somewhat annoyed that you’ve effectively ruined the mood. 
“i’m getting the fuck out of here. this… this whole thing was a mistake,” you say, on the verge of tears. you don't even deserve to cry, honestly, but you want to, anyway.
“a-a mistake? why? wait, don’t go!” he says, stepping in front of you again. 
“beomgyu, are you fucking with me? you’re with hana! why wouldn’t this be a mistake? oh my god, and i-i’m not — i don’t take birth control. we really might’ve… fuck just move, please!” you plead. you think you might be on the verge of a panic attack, tears and snot streaming down your face. you just wish he would fucking move so you could get out of here and start fixing everything because the guilt you feel just by seeing his face is all-consuming. there’s no way you can face hana again after this. you’ll cut her out of your life, and when you’re courageous enough, you’ll tell her what you did to her. you’ll lose hana and all the rest of your friends once they hear about what kind of person you really are. and as for beomgyu, well, knowing hana, she’ll stay with him and you’ll be the homewrecker in this story. 
“hey, shh, it’s okay,” beomgyu coos softly, taking your tear-streaked face in his big, warm hands. “talk to me. what are you thinking?” “i… i ruined everything,” you begin with a sob. “i hurt hana. you hurt hana. a-and everybody’s going to be so fucking mad at me. god, she’s never going to forgive me.” 
“listen,” he says softly while rubbing the pads of his thumbs against the tears falling down your cheeks. “she lied to you, and she lied to me, too.”
“because she loves you, beomgyu. she only did it because she loves you so much,” you argue, tearing your face from his grasp, but he only locks his arms around your waist instead. 
“and what about me? what about how i feel?”
“what are you trying to say?” you sniffle.
“i’m saying i meant it when i said i don’t give a fuck about hana. i’m sorry, but i don’t. i never did,” he says as if he’s coaxing a child. you want to believe his words so fucking badly, but you’ve seen the way they’ve been attached at the hip these past few months and you can’t help but feel like he’s just a) full of shit and/or b) pussydrunk on you. he can sense your apprehension and wants to tear his own hair out in frustration. 
“can i be honest with you?” he asks.
you nod in response.
“i… i only started hanging out with her because i knew she was close to you. i don’t know if it’s because i wanted to get back at you or if i just wanted to see you more. maybe a bit of both, honestly. i-i know that’s wrong, but it’s true.” you’re at a loss for words. all you can ask is:
“why?” he chuckles at this. 
“because i like you, dummy,” he says sweetly while releasing one of the hands that grips your waist, using it to fix up your hair. he likes you? the same beomgyu who has effectively harassed you for the past few months… likes you? 
“you have a fucking hilarious way of showing it. i thought you hated me,” you retort. 
“i was just teasing,” he says softly. “i just wanted you to notice me and nothing i did ever seemed to bother you.”
“well, it did,” you scoff. 
“i’m sorry,” he says sheepishly. “i just like you a lot, okay? i’m sorry for being an asshole. and i’ll make it up to you, i promise.” you want to say okay, but the fact remains that he’s still very much hana’s boyfriend. regardless of his feelings, you still betrayed her and your friends aren’t going to be very understanding of your situation with him. the only chance you have of retaining your friendships now is to cut beomgyu off and beg on your knees for forgiveness. but you like him. you really, really like him. and the temptation to relent is even stronger as he begins to plant kisses on your face along with promises to dump her and, in his words, to “be good from now on”. when his innocent kisses turn lustful and begin to trail down your neck, what else can you do besides agree?
notes pt. 2: so...? i hope this was okay i really do LMFAOO. i have no idea how this will be received. if it's bad, i might delete it because i truly don't know what i'm doing. anyway, feedback is always appreciated! it gives me the confidence to branch out like this so i'd love to hear from y'all :)
permanent taglist*: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast
*minors and ageless blogs on my permanent taglist were not added for obvious reasons. i made the taglist before i decided to make supermodel smut, so if you would like to be removed from this or any future smut works, please message me!
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wave2tyun · 3 months
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strawberry kisses | ☆
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pairing: beomgyu x reader
genre: fluff
summary: when you accepted your boyfriend's sweet request to do his makeup, you weren't expecting the fiery turn that your little makeup session was going to take
warnings: none<3
word count: 875
a/n: reposting with much love for my dear 🐾 anon!!😼💞💞 to this day i still don't know what possessed me when i wrote this fic tbh ASBHJDBSJ my turn to experience this when.......?<//3
☆ = repost from my old blog!!
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“ah-“ “-it’s so cold” beomgyu exclaimed, slightly moving away from you.
“stay still-“ you grabbed his face again, dabbing the concealer you had just put on his face with a sponge.
beomgyu had been all over you that night, begging you to recreate the makeup look you had on your last date with him. but he was just so cute doing it, there was no way you could ever refuse him. so now- here you were, beomgyu sitting down on the edge of your bed with you on a chair, leaning over to do the base of his makeup. your hands were shaking a bit, even though you weren’t gonna leave the house again after this was done. it was just beomgyu who got to see the result. perhaps that was actually the root of your worries, you were nervous whether beomgyu would like your work or not.
“my neck hurts” beomgyu complained again. you let out a laugh as you got up, wanting to get your eyeshadow palette from the nightstand.
beomgyu’s arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, bringing you down with him on the bed. “w-what was that for?” you asked, flustered by his actions.
“i think i like this position better- my neck feels more relaxed this way.” he replied with a shrug.
beomgyu’s hands rested on your waist as you straddled his hips and continued continued your work. sometimes his fingeres travelled down to your thighs, tracing patterns on the velvety material of your pants. you grabbed his face again. every single one of your touches had his body melting underneath you, he was so infatuated with you, simply letting you do whatever you needed without questioning anything. he was content watching you do your thing, enjoying how all of your attention was on him and him only.
“your eyelashes are so pretty” you whispered, putting on a light coat of mascara on him. your cold fingers touched his skin, soothing down the burning sensation that bloomed in his cheeks from such simple words. your hand slid down to take hold of his chin and lift it up “pout your lips for me gyu”
“do i get a kiss if i do that?” beomgyu asked you cutely, voice laced with honey.
you playfully tilted your head to the side “maybe” you teased.
beomgyu closed his eyes, pouting his lips exaggeratedly. the feeling of the lipstick touching him instead of your own lips made him open them again. beomgyu huffed; he looked at the floor, sulking, instead of looking at you. you held back the urge to laugh and carried on with the final step, blending the crimson color with the pad of your fingers, feeling his plush lips against your skin. you could notice the way his face lit up, eyes glistening with mischief from the idea that just crossed his mind. one way or another, he was going to receive the kiss that he wanted from you “you know what this lipstick would look good on?”
“hm?” you lifted your eyebrows, waiting for beomgyu’s response.
“you” he answered, giving you a quick peck, chuckling at your surprised face.
you glanced at his lips, smudged lipstick on his face inviting you to mess it up even more. you leaned down, moving away the bangs covering his face to return the favor.
the continuous tentative pecks slowly raised in intensity, and with each kiss you would linger against his lips more, blood rushing through your veins. beomgyu took hold of you, rolling you on the bed so that you could be the one underneath him. he held your wrists above your head with one hand, his other one playing with some strands of your hair as he left kisses all over your cheeks, red marks from the lipstick blossoming along, as a clear sign of his adoration towards you. beomgyu’s heart fluttered at the sight, he took the lipstick tube and placed it in your hand, silently asking for more. he pouted his lips once again, and this time, you couldn’t resist him. your lips captured his in a shy, chaste kiss before fulfilling his request. the corners of his lips turned up and he gazed directly into your eyes as you colored his lips again. then, his head dived down, painting your neck with the same crimson marks that adored your cheeks. he nipped and gently bit at your skin, his tongue swiftly gliding over those same spots, letting out a sigh as he let himself become more and more absorbed by you, the worry of keeping his makeup intact long forgotten. he covered you with his love, slightly pulling the collar of your shirt down to cover the area right underneath your collarbone with more kisses. as much as beomgyu relished telling you that he loved you, he was much fonder of showing his endearment towards you through actions. he loved seeing how you couldn’t control the blush rushing into your cheeks as he kissed you, how you held on tighter to the sleeves of his sweatshirt as he travelled down your body, soft gasps escaping past your lips whenever his kisses turned slow and sensuous.
his face came back up, rosy lips curving into a smirk as he looked at you again “what a beautiful sight”
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channoticedmeuwu · 11 months
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𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔 — 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐅 𝐖𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃?
p — CHOI BEOMGYU × FEM!READER | g — suggestive, fluff, frenemy!beomgyu | w — mentions of slight claustrophobia, a bad kisser, kissing scene, gyu's kinda annoying pull up bro
a/n — because of 230610 beomgyu need I say more. + this kind of sucks idk why but I mean I need the idea out of my drafts sorry y'all
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“beomgyu, please.”
your fingers were gripping beomgyu's jacket— your lips burned from the previous make out session you absolutely regretted, lipstick smeared and desperation fluttering with your pretty eyelashes as you pleaded, blinking at beomgyu. “just a few seconds, I can't let him see me.”
you'd just ‘ran away’ from a guy beomgyu had set you up with— or at least tried to— after realizing he was a terrible kisser with a lot of opinions that would be better off inside his mind. and you were fed up with the constant ‘girls aren't good kissers without experience’ opinion he had, right after calling you a good kisser. he had completely messed up your make up, abruptly landing a kiss on your lips right in the middle of the dance floor. hot bodies against each other and blaring music, causing you an overload of senses.
your eyes stared at beomgyu, who was tall enough, especially with the platform boots he wore tonight. so even with you holding him down, gripping him for dear life wasn't enough to make the two of you see eye to eye. he ran his thumb over your eyebrow with a smile, his fingers adorned in silver rings felt cold against your skin— your eyes absorbing his appearance, your heart beating with anxiety.
“aren't you cute,” he chuckled, making you let out a panicked giggle, “you want me that bad?”
“don't get ahead of yourself,” you stood to your toes, your action making beomgyu lace his finger around your waist in support, “i don't want you, I need you.”
now, that sounded completely different in your head. you needed him to save your ass, you didn't need him in that way. not charming old beomgyu, who kicked the back of your knees when you'd be walking to class. not beomgyu, who'd scrunch up his face everytime you'd walk past and ask if you've taken a shower, especially when your hair were obviously wet. not beomgyu, who'd smack your head from behind and point to the closest person near the two of you when you'd ask, “what the fuck, gyu!?”
so what was it about this beomgyu, the beomgyu who was humming at you and tracing your skin with his initial, the beomgyu whose eyelashes you insisted to do before the party because you realized that he had amazing lashes. the beomgyu who was lazily blinking at you, a blush creeping on his cheeks, adam's apple trembling, “need?”
“you heard me,” but you decided this beomgyu was different, this wasn't the same beomgyu at all. no, his eyes looked different in the flashing lights, his fingers moved up and down your back like he was trying to earn a reaction out of you, but it wasn't working at all, especially when you tightened your grip around his collar in desperation.
and it probably meant something that your first instinct was to look for beomgyu when that horrible kiss happened, and you suddenly realized that staring at his face. beomgyu scrunched his nose at you.
“please.” you said as you turned your head, checking to see if anyone came around the corner looking for you.
“and what's in it for me?”
you were starting to get impatient. you started tapping the floor with your foot, shaking him slightly with a whine, nervously pink in the cheeks. “alright, alright,” he pulled you against the wall right beside the two of you as he heard someone say your name right behind the corner, “but you owe me.”
“anything,” you giggled as he put his arms next to your face against the wall, his body hiding you. he had his eyes closed, forehead against yours, and you could feel your heartbeat chatter your teeth as the echoing of your name got closer.
but somehow, you were still not satisfied.
anyone could still peak over beomgyu's shoulder and see you, your bold make up and your recognizable face. “beom,” you whispered, your breath falling on his lips, the footsteps growing closer, “what if—”
but then he cut you off, lips on your own, a hand guiding your thigh around his hips; he had you pinned. the scent of smoke made its way up your nose as he mumbled, eyes slowly opening, causing his eyelashes to flutter against your cheeks. “hand. hair.”
immediately, you snaked your hands up his hair, unusually soft and—well, they smelled good. the image you had of beomgyu as the annoying asshole who picked on you in the halls was merging into something else, like ripples of water settling down to show a proper picture. beomgyu was holding you in a way you've never been held, his voice humming and his lips in a smile against yours.
and was it that bad to admit that he was getting you more nervous than being found by the guy you were trying to avoid? he'd mutter a little ‘ah!’ that would travel like current throughout your body, especially when you'd turn your head to check if anyone would find you like this; pinned against the wall, eyelids shut tight, his hands underneath your blouse and on your skin. and the idea of that made your face turn redder than the whimpers beomgyu was letting out to tease the fuck out of you.
“you're such a shit kisser,” he mumbled with a giggle that definitely sounded like he felt the opposite, when someone turned around the corner, calling beomgyu's name.
“gyu—oh, fuck.”
beomgyu placed a hand on the back of your neck as he turned, gently nudging your face into his shoulder. “yeah? dude, I'm busy?”
“yeah. shit— I mean, yeah.” then with a stutter at beomgyu's annoyed expression, he continued, “have you seen y/n anywhere?”
“the fuck, dude?”
“nevermind.”
and as the body turned around the corner, beomgyu turned to you with a raised eyebrow. “you can look up now.”
and he saw your face— lips puffy, sweat beading underneath your eyes, panting from the adrenaline, hair disheveled from the friction against the wall— you were a mess. and you were laughing like a maniac.
“dude, you're good,” you just chuckled as beomgyu cocked his head to the side, tongue in cheek. “like me that much?”
“beomgyu, no!”
“mhm, then let go of me.”
and that's when you realized you still had his hair in your hands, your forehead against his, and your legs around him. you muttered a defeated fuck, standing to your feet and getting ready to walk away, cheeks burning.
“hey,” he asked, pouting as he bent lower to look at you, “no thank you kiss for me?”
“is that what I owe you?”
he thought for a second as he clicked his tongue, back leaning against the wall as he thrust his hands into his pockets. “mhm,” he finally nodded, tapping his lips which were glittering from your lipgloss.
“right here.”
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txt — masterlist
main taglist (hmu to get added!) — @koishua @navyhyuck @allegxdly @daystiny  @kdyism  @neotism  @bluejaem  @radiorenjun  @sleepylixie @oifelixcmerebrou @mrkcore @imdamnconfused  @sicluvz @abhirami20 @tyongishs @emvrd @brxght-world @1921choi
I’d appreciate if you’d give me a little feedback on the drabble if you read, whether it’s an ask, a reply or in the tags of the rb! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
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nightdiary · 1 year
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relationship firsts with txt
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word count: 4.2k genre: fluff, established relationship, mildly suggestive (at the end but nothing mature) author's note: had so much fun writing this one, hope it's just as fun to read! kind of went on a tangent with some of these but ... scratches head ... more for you to read! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated ^o^ enjoy 🤍
✧ yeonjun - sharing a bed
you’d like to bet that between you and yeonjun, your boyfriend was the braver one of you two. braver here being used loosely of course, and more in the context of yeonjun being absolutely unabashed in his affections and moves on you. shameless, to be more precise.
after all, he’d been the one to initiate your relationship. he’d also been the one to initiate your first kiss. organize your first date. say the unforgettable three words first. the whole nine yards, really.
“junnie, please,” you insist, threading your fingers through his and pulling him closer. “it’s awful outside, and my bed’s right here. my warm, soft, comfortablebed with your favorite person in it.”
“are you sure? really, don’t feel like you have to offer just to be nice,” he mumbles. his words are soft against the onslaught of rain outside, and you almost miss the timid edge to his voice.
he’s nervous, you realize with a start. your invitation appears to have thrown him off-guard, and it dawns on you that this is the first time you’d be sleeping in a bed together.
as if answering for you, the stormy sky outside splits open with another series of crackling lightning. flinching, yeonjun hugs his windbreaker tighter around himself, and you resist the urge to call him out for being stubborn. you’d spent the last half hour convincing him to stay the night, and after driving his excuses into dead ends, he had no option but to stay with his beloved partner instead of venturing out into the downpour.
tragic, right?
yeonjun and nervous aren’t exactly two things you’d put together. they can coexist, but not necessarily belong to one another. that being said, the strange predicament you found yourself in at the moment was making you worry.
“i promise,” you say, leaning in to peck him on the bridge of his nose. “now go shower. i love you, but you’re not coming into my bed with your outside clothes.”
as a freshly-cleaned yeonjun steps into your bedroom a half hour later, you try not to let your wandering eyes dip below his exposed clavicle. clearing your throat, you busy yourself with changing into your pajamas and slipping into your side of the bed, where you pretend to find interest in the miscellaneous belongings you’d strewn about your bedside table. now you’re feeling nervous.
yeonjun shyly perches himself on the edge of your bed, picking at a stray thread on your comforter. the image is so unlike the yeonjun you know, any semblance of your confident and shameless boyfriend now seemingly having been washed away. he’s replaced by a charmingly bashful version that you’ve only seen a handful of times before, primarily at the very beginning of your relationship.
it’s weird, and yet strangely endearing.
“there's room up here as well, y’know,” you prompt, snorting when yeonjun looks up at you like a deer caught in headlights. patting the space next to you, you pull back the blanket and smooth over the sheets, humming absentmindedly.
you hear movement a second later, looking up to find your boyfriend crawling up by your side and awkwardly shuffling under the covers. he lays on his side, peering up at you through his lashes and patiently waiting for you to join him. you take that as your cue to turn your bedside lamp off, plunging the room into semi-darkness.
you’ve just barely begun to make out the edges of yeonjun’s face when he shuffles closer, looping his arms around your waist and closing the distance between you two. his cold feet brush yours, and when you yelp in response, you’re met with a series of giggles that tell you there’s nothing to worry about.
“hi,” you say.
“hi,” yeonjun parrots, “you’re comfy.”
humming, you bring your hand up to massage the area where his neck meets his shoulders. almost instantly, you feel him relax even further into your embrace, dropping his face into your chest with a barely-discernable whine. got him, you think.
“does this mean i can sleep over more often?” it’s hard to hear him from where he’s mumbling against your shirt, but you’ve learned to decipher his sleepy murmurs.
“depends, are you going to get shy like this every time?”
yeonjun’s answer is muffled yet again, and you’re unsure if he was saying something or just whining again. tapping on his neck, you feel him draw back to look up at you, smoothing your thumb down the side of his cheekbone fondly.
“m’sorry, it’s just that i’m not used to you initiating things like this,” he says. his hand finds purchase along your hip and he rubs his thumb in comforting circles. “makes me feel nervous but in a good way. it’s nice to see you comfortable while doing these things.”
“so you’re saying i need to step my flirt game up,” you tease.
“whatever you’re comfortable with,” he’s quick to say, and you feel the fondness practically warm you inside out. no matter what he’s doing, yeonjun will always be gentle and considerate.
“well, looks like you’re in luck,” you decide, pinching his red cheek (gently). “cause i’m starting to take a liking to this shy side of you.”
✧ soobin - moving in together
out of all the things that could have gone wrong, you wonder why it had to be this.
“the moving company got their date mixed up,” soobin groans. he tosses his phone onto the only piece of furniture you two had managed to bring up yourselves– a rickety desk chair from ikea– and you snort as the sound reverberates around the empty room. “they thought we scheduled them for tomorrow. the guy sounded really sorry though, and offered a discount for the inconvenience.”
rubbing at your temple, you try to ignore the way your exhaustion grows tenfold at the news. “i’m too tired to be upset right now,” you admit. the only thing on your mind at the moment was rest. and food.
ever since soobin brought up the idea a year into your relationship, it’s been a big decision in the making. truthfully, it had always been at the back of your mind; the intimacy of sharing a living space with your partner. you knew you wanted to take this step with soobin and knew that it would require months of planning and arranging for it to be realized, but you were prepared to overcome whatever came your way.
finding an affordable place that wasn’t a considerable distance from both of your workplaces was challenging enough, but when you finally decided on a few candidates, another series of obstacles were presented. landlords had complicated requirements, especially for couples who weren’t married yet, and that left you with even fewer options than you’d first anticipated. add a pet into the equation, and you could count your choices on one hand.
(soobin had jokingly suggested you two get married to avoid one of the issues, but more and more often you found yourself wishing he meant it.)
the place you’d found was quite short of perfect, but it was lovely and fitting in its own regard. it had enough space for both of you and your baby (odi), and it was located in a neighborhood that allowed you to easily access family, the workplace, and a recreational area. soobin was going to live there with you, and that was enough to get you to overlook the less-than-perfect parts.
sitting down, you thank the universe that the place was at least clean when you arrived. you rest your back against the wall and close your eyes, listening as soobin cycles through another round of phone calls in the hallway.
you don’t realize you’ve drifted off until soobin gently wakes you up by patting your head. groaning and stretching, you almost fall over from excitement when you realize that the room smells like food. not just any food, but your favorite noodles.
the room’s still disappointingly empty and the sky outside is getting dark fast, but soobin’s looking at you with a dimpled smile and holding up a bag of takeout from your dearest restaurant like a trophy. you can write today off as a good day.
despite the fact that you still have no chairs or a table to eat on, you and soobin arrange yourselves and the few belongings you’d brought into a formation that allows you to eat comfortably on the floor of the apartment. you didn’t exactly dream of eating takeout on the floor of your empty place on move-in day, but hey, things have a way of working themselves out.
“this would be a good place for that shelf you liked at ikea,” soobin mumbles between chews, pointing his chopsticks in the direction of the wall adjacent to you.
nodding, you set your box of noodles down and gesture to the area by the grand window. “right? i was thinking odi’s cage can go here. and we can put up some curtains to make sure he doesn’t get too warm.”
something in your chest lets up. rolling your neck, you ignore the painful creak in your back and blink through your tired haze to admire your boyfriend. soobin, who had tirelessly pushed through today and made sure things worked out the best they could. soobin, who made sure you felt comfortable and accommodated throughout the whole process, especially when things got physically demanding. soobin, who loves you endlessly and got you your favorite meal after a long day.
“i’m really happy we’re doing this,” soobin whispers earnestly. his eyes dart around the empty room before settling on your hands where they’re cradled in your lap. “even if not everything goes our way, i’m glad i’m going through everything with you.”
“we’ll work this out too,” you promise, and it feels hopeful on your tongue. reaching out to encircle soobin’s free hand in your own, you squeeze it reassuringly. and when he smiles back, you start to believe yourself.
✧ beomgyu - meeting his family
there’s an element of truth to the saying karma is a bitch.
partially, you are at fault. but the instigator at fault here really, are those stupid romance movies you’d watched with beomgyu.
an important thing to note: neither you nor beomgyu are fans of romance movies. if anything, you two are able to bond over your mutual dislike of the genre, no matter which forms you choose to consume it in. that being said, your decision to binge-watch and extensively criticize them was coming back to kick you in the ass. hard.
“i promise my parents don’t bite,” beomgyu had said, in a light-hearted attempt to reassure you. “my brother might, but i’ll bite him back.”
you weren’t able to formulate a response back without screaming, so you gave beomgyu what you hoped was your best convincing smile. five minutes later, you found yourself at the threshold of his childhood home, stepping into it with quivering hands and a smile so shaky you feared it’d turn into a frown the second you relaxed.
here’s the thing. you’d always found it silly when couples met the parents in movies. you’d told your boyfriend that it was overexaggerated. cringy. unrealistic. sitting through the scenes made your skin physically crawl, especially when the characters purposefully got themselves into situations that evoked the strongest sense of second-hand embarrassment you’d ever gotten.
however, the worst part, inarguably, was the parents. without fail, every time, they were handpicked to be teeming with the most awful traits known to man. you understood it was purely for entertainment purposes, but god did it drive you up the wall.
tldr: you and beomgyu think romance movies are silly. you in particular think the meeting the parents scenes are the worst.
almost ironically, here you are, a solid five months into your relationship with beomgyu, meeting his parents.
they’re warm and inviting and the complete opposite of what your self-sabotaging brain had expected. his mother hugs you like you’ve known each other for years, smiling at you with a gentleness that makes your heart feel all funny. his father’s equally excited to meet you, eagerly ushering you into the house and bumbling about a much-needed tour (and a whole bunch of other things, but you’re still panicking and barely picking up anything else).
beomgyu remains at your side the entire time, hand securely held in his own as you shuffle after his father through the different rooms. you even get the pleasure of seeing beomgyu’s childhood room, which still retains a semblance of his younger self, encapsulated by the copious amounts of band posters and colorful figurines lining his shelves.
you’re joined by his older brother at dinner, who graciously introduces himself as beomgyu’s worst enemy and promises to show you blackmail-worthy material later. the meal itself is just as lovely, and you find yourself sheepishly reaching out for seconds and thirds when his parents encourage you to. the dishes spanning from one end of the table to the other are deliciously colorful and vary in taste and texture, and the thought of the family preparing for you in such a way has your heart clenching.
“this is freaking me out,” you tell beomgyu once the two of you retire to the guest room for the night. “why do they like me? why hasn’t one of them made fun of me for what i’m majoring in? are they going to hit me with it over breakfast tomorrow? because i’d rather not, i was really looking forward to those blueberry pancakes that your mom mentioned and–”
“babe,” he cuts you off, though not unkindly. his hands worm themselves around your waist, drawing you into a much-needed embrace.
letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you rest your forehead against his shoulder and allow yourself a moment of vulnerability.
“i wasn’t just saying things when i told you they’d love you,” he murmurs. you feel him beginning to gently sway you side to side, and you let yourself become boneless in his hold. “you’re perfect for me, and i’m perfect for you. it’s not hard for them to tell.”
nodding, you try to even out your breathing to match his. after a few minutes of silent rocking, your boyfriend pulls back to look at you head-on, and your heart leaps into your throat at the sheer fondness in his expression. even in the darkness, his eyes gleam with adoration and you find yourself overwhelmed with love yet again.
“thank you,” you say earnestly. you hope beomgyu understands how much this means to you.
the next morning, you’re finally able to indulge in a choi family breakfast (featuring their infamous blueberry pancakes and breakfast tarts). the table isn’t filled with hostile comments regarding the ins and outs of who you are, but rather genuine inquiries into your field of specialty and interests. beomgyu and his family listen attentively, responding in their own unique ways and furthering the conversation with interesting bits about themselves.
you feel beomgyu’s eyes following you throughout the entire morning, straying only once his attention’s called for by his parents. you spend most of your time at the table, exchanging embarrassing stories with his brother, and before you know it, it’s already noon.
you and beomgyu are tasked with washing the dishes while the rest of the family head up to get dressed for the afternoon activity that your boyfriend had suggested. for the most part, it’s slow and quiet, just like the rest of the morning. you’re bringing over the mugs when it happens– beomgyu moves in and readily corners you against the counter, grinning mischievously when you go red all over.
“i’m starting to regret bringing you here,” he whispers, and you feel yourself freeze as the sound of footsteps approaches the kitchen. “i can’t even get you to myself…”
“here’s that photo of him with his underwear on his head,” you immediately recognize his brother’s voice, and you rush to set the mugs down in the sink before you drop them.
beomgyu whirls around with a glare so harsh you worry he’ll start wrinkling at 30, and promptly tries to rip the photograph out of his sibling’s hand. the kitchen’s soon filled with yells, and if you had no concept of who was fighting in the room, you’d think it were two toddlers.
you know it’s no use picking a side, so you use the distraction as an opportunity to slip out the back door and greet your favorite family member– toto.
✧ taehyun - saying “i love you”
there’s something on your mind.
you can’t pinpoint exactly when it started following you, but ever since you’d first taken notice of it, it hasn’t left.
it’s present in the little things; when taehyun’s mittened hand seeks yours out blindly, when his eyes follow you through crowds fondly, when the scent of his cologne fills the empty gaps of your life with familiarity, when his mouth wraps around the syllables of your name with care.
it’s everywhere even when he’s nowhere to be found; he’s the tiger lilies at the florist boutique on your block’s corner, he’s in the rhythm of the pop songs you hear at the grocery store, he’s the stuffed otter you hug to sleep on difficult nights.
it’s abstract and yet it isn’t. by all standards, it isn’t tangible. and yet you know you feel it when taehyun weaves his fingers tenderly through yours; you know you see it when taehyun’s eyes meet yours and the edges curl like crescent moons; you know it’s part of you when you feel warm and electric all over at the prospect of telling him.
you’re in love with taehyun, and you’re going to tell him tonight.
“there’s something on your mind,” he says, and the grin on his face tells you he already knows.
shrugging, you look back down at your phone, situated precariously in your lap. the bright numbers on your screen read 11:54 PM. six minutes to midnight.
“you don’t have to tell me what it is,” taehyun continues. “but you know you can tell me anything. right?”
“right,” you confirm, voice soft. looking over at the neighboring rooftop, you notice a group of teenagers beginning to spill out into the night air. “of course. i know that.”
five minutes to midnight. the december air is brittle with snow as it blankets seoul, coloring the dazzling landscape a muted white. taehyun’s coat sits snugly around your shoulders, warm and familiar, encasing you like an unspoken promise. even as your breath curls into the night in gray tufts, you can’t feel a semblance of cold.
four minutes to midnight. scuffing the edge of your shoe against the ground, you tuck your phone into your pocket and stand up. taehyun’s eyes follow you, but you’re too afraid to look back. you pace over to the railing and lean against it, breathing in deeply to steady yourself. your ribs ache with anticipation, your fingertips buzz, and your throat feels tight.
three minutes to midnight. somewhere in the distance, a loud shout rings out. the teenage company on the next roof over begins to light their sparklers, giggling buoyantly at the flares that spring up.
two minutes. your breaths begin to thin out, each stretching just a millisecond reach less than the other. your mind is reeling, positively overwhelmed with how much there is to say, but the diminishing seconds keep growing and you’ve got no time.
one minute. from inside, you can hear the tv program’s commentator begin to count down the seconds. stepping back from the railing, you look up at the sky. it’s dark and empty, void of any stars that should be there.
“i have something to tell you too,” taehyun whispers.
you blink the world back into focus. taehyun’s to your right, looking at you with the words ready on his lips. seoul is loud and brilliant, but you can only see him.
taehyun’s hand finds your own, and you don’t have to think. you love him.
“and i love you,” taehyun responds.
you don’t realize you’ve said it out loud until the birds in your chest spring free. the world around you erupts into a colorful blast of fluorescent yellows and reds and blues, deafening as the fireworks fill the sky with vivid spirals. your ears are ringing and you feel out of breath and your throat aches, like you’d just screamed away every last second into january.
“i love you, i love you, i love you!” your shouts are drowned out by the whistle and crackle of the ceremony unfolding above you, but taehyun can hear you and that’s all that matters.
the cotton of his mittens envelopes the sides of your face and he brings your lips to his own with a toothy grin. he’s warm and smells like evergreen pine, tastes like the cider you had earlier, and you love him.
✧ kai - first kiss
“i’m not making this a big deal,” kai pouts. his eyes flit across your face, and his brows furrow when he picks up on the nervous twitch of your lip. “i’m not, right?”
“you’re totally making this a big deal,” despite the fact that you feel like your heart’s about to beat out of your chest, you giggle.
perhaps, in retrospect, you shouldn’t have told your boyfriend about your inexperience surrounding kissing. though it was a conversation you knew kai would handle with utmost consideration, you felt jittery and nervous all the same.
the secret’s involuntarily revealed a few weeks into your relationship when kai tries to kiss you at the end of a date. in an anxious fit, you’d freaked out and backed away, but not for the same reason that your boyfriend initially suspected. after copious reassurances and promises, you’d told him the real cause behind your panic: lack of experience.
if anything, kai took your confession in stride. he’d hugged you instead and promised to talk about the matter later, when you two weren’t trembling outside of your apartment at midnight.
the talk in question was currently being held on the floor of your living room. the two of you are curled up by the foot of the couch, facing each other with varying degrees of red on your faces. there’s a show playing in the background, but you’d stopped paying attention a long time ago.
you’d told kai that you didn’t want to make it a whole thing, and that he didn’t need to feel obligated to do anything out of the ordinary for you. a kiss was a kiss, and whether it happened in the mundanity of your home or at the top of a ferris wheel, it only mattered to you who it was with.
you just wanted to get it over with, for both your and your boyfriend’s sake.
kai looks at you with something so tender in his eyes you feel your breath catch in your throat. as the last of your laughter dies out and the silence returns, you try not to think about how much you want to throw caution to the wind and press up against him.
“i’m going to do it now,” he announces, and you try not to burst into another fit of laughter. 
the ghost of his hand brushes by your nape, cradling the back of your head and thumbing at your skin soothingly. you hadn’t even noticed that you’d gone warm all over, and the contrast of his cold fingers against your neck makes you shiver. kai’s eyes meet yours questioningly, and when you give him an affirmative nod, he leans into your space with purpose.
it’s short and chaste and achingly sweet, but above all, more than you could’ve asked for. the pressure against your lips is unfamiliar but not unpleasant, and you find yourself melting right into the feeling. but it’s gone before your mind can catch up, leaving you suspended mid-air with a rushing heart, yearning for more.
kai draws back from the kiss with a nervous exhale, though he hovers in your orbit with a giddy smile, watching for your reaction. his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are chasing your lips like he wants to dive right back in, and you’re sure you’re in a very similar predicament. pressing your palm against your cheek in an attempt to soothe your burning skin, you shyly look up at him through your lashes.
“how was it?” he asks, the question spilling out between the two of you like a secret. there’s a vulnerable undertone to it that immediately has you sitting up and smiling reassuringly.
“hmm, i don’t know,” you say teasingly, with an embarrassingly breathless quality to your words. you reach out to brace your arms around his neck, toying with the soft tufts of hair you find. “you’re going to have to do it again, i wasn’t really paying attention.”
kai’s eyes grow the tiniest bit wide, but then his lips pull into an uncharacteristically smug grin as he moves to lean in again. “yeah? well since you insist…”
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banggyu0308 · 10 months
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Please give your Hard thought on any member reaction when you ask them to tell you you’re a good girl while they dom 🤒🥴
warnings: praise kink, dom!txt, members call the reader 'good girl', yeonjun: doggy style, dacryphilia, calls the reader 'baby', soobin: handjob, blowjob, handholding, beomgyu: teasing, begging, breeding kink + creampie implied, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, taehyun: hickeys, daddy kink, kai: missionary, soft sex, he calls the reader 'angel'
yeonjun would get so confident the moment your plea leaves your lips, tears streaming down your cheeks from the pace his pelvis is meeting your ass, a smirk on his face as he presses a line of kisses to your shoulders such a good girl, you know it, don't you baby? taking my cock so well, aren't you? loves the way his cock fits his baby's cunt so perfectly <3
mumbling out your request with soobin's dick in your mouth, struggling to take all of it but doing the best you can, jerking him off with one hand while the other holds his, his ears going pink but he gasps it out anyways, free hand tugging at your hair when his words make you moan slightly around him 🤭
beomgyu would just smirk and squeeze your thighs slightly, a cocky grin on his face cause he's gonna make you beg, only speeding up more to see how incoherent he can get you, the little shit he is. laughing at the way your eyes shut when you try to make yourself concentrate, it's not working very well, is it? but the moment the sentence leaves your mouth he's lowering his lips to your ear, whispering in his fucking deep voice, can you take my cum like the good girl you are? yeah? chuckling when you nod pathetically, tears in your waterline, gonna find out then..~
taehyun's pace increases when a sharp gasp of call me good girl, please tyun? is whimpered against the palm you have over your mouth, his lips on your neck, splotchy hickeys sucked against your skin without a word from him, and it gets to a certain point where you think he hasn't heard you, repeating yourself and he just smiles at you before rubbing at your clit lightly, the extra stimulation tipping you over the edge, humming in approval at your shaking form, never stopping his movements... there we go, there's my good girl, cumming all over daddy's cock..~
kai gets so flustered kjsbdejk cunt feels so freaking good around him that he mumbles it out repeatedly, wants you to know how good you feel around him... fucking into you in missionary with his face in your neck, soft whispers of good girl, angel, feels so good... over and over until the two of you cum :((
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luvyeni · 1 year
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txt’s reaction to u teasing them by running off and leaving them w a boner? 👀
—{🎂}TEASING AND LEAVING THEM; W/ TUBATU
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pairings. OT5!tubatu x fem!reader
wc. 0.5k
warnings. dry humping, allusions to sex, marking, yeonjun almost cums in his pants
synopsis. tubatu reactions to teasing them and leaving them with a boner.
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—{🍰}... SOOBIN ⋮ whiny baby pt1 !
he's gonna be so whiny if you get up and leave him with a hard on
"hey baby." you sat down on his lap. "hey ba- w...what are you doing?" he whined as you began to grind down on his clothed cock. "baby im not doing nothing." you smiled innocently, but he knew you acting. "you okay baby? maybe i should go get you some water." you climbed off his lap , walking into the kitchen. "baby please , please don't do this to me." you smiled hearing him whining from the kitchen.
"baby please come back im so hard now."
—{🍰}... YEONJUN ⋮ chasing after you !
he's getting right up and following you, you're not gonna leave him like this.
"f..fuck baby keep grinding like that on me." he kissed your jaw , making his way down to your neck , leaving little marks. "fuck im gonna cum in my pants if i don't get inside of you right now." you mentally smirked, knowing you had him right where you wanted him , climbing out of his lap , smiling innocently. "im sorry yeonjunie , i can't i have class, i have to get ready." you turned to walk to the bathroom , but he got up following you.
"then im fucking you in the shower, you aren't gonna leave me here with a hard cock."
—{🍰}... BEOMGYU ⋮ teasing you back !
he's gonna get you back , he's gonna wait until later when he's actually fucking you.
"s..shit beomgyu, right there." you moaned , gripping his hair, as he fucked his tongue into you. "f..fuck beomgyu , im gonna cum." he smirked against your soaking cunt , he could feel you twitching as you were right at your peak, only a few seconds from your orgasm , he pulled away. "n..no , what are you doing." he laughed tapping your clit.
"remember earlier , when you left me with a boner , i had to get myself off , it's only fair you make yourself cum like i did."
—{🍰}... TAEHYUN ⋮ not even gonna give you the chance !
once you sat down on his lap with those eyes, it was time to have sex , he wasn't letting you up
taehyun saw it the moment you sat down, the sexy but mischievous look in your eyes as you straddled his waist, grinding down on his cock. "f..fuck you feel so good." he threw his head back against the couch , you felt like this was the perfect time to do it, kissing his neck. before you tried to get up , taehyun held your waist holding you down, bucking up into your heat. "i knew what you were up to , and im not up for the games." his eyes grew darker.
"you cause this , now you're gonna fix it."
—{🍰}... HUENING KAI ⋮ whiny baby pt2 !
he's gonna be whiny, but he's not gonna sit there and whine.
"mmh shit." he hissed as you grinded your heat against him. "baby you feel so good." you smiled ,knowing he was slowly breaking "baby, fuck , baby i need to be inside you." his hips twitched. you got up like you were about to take your clothes off , but instead you walked to the kitchen. "im so thirsty." he whined getting up following you , walking up behind you, whining into your ear as he rutted up against your ass.
"baby please don't do this , please let me fuck you, please."
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©️LUVYENI
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astrozuya · 8 months
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⁺ ˳ ☆ BEOMGYU + ACTS OF AFFECTION !
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✦ content‎: ‎beomgyu x gn!reader. fluff. 0.2k wc.
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( 범규. ) 🧸 kissing your lips
whether it's in a playful way or in a lustful way, no one is better at kissing than beomgyu is— and he knows it.
if you're a little annoyed with him he'll slyly pepper your lips with kisses because he knows how weak you are to them. "are you still mad?" he'll ask teasingly when he pulls away. "you seemed to really like that kiss though."
( 범규. ) 🧸 squishing your cheek
beomie likes seeing you smile and playfully swat his hand away when he squishes your cheek.
if he wants your attention and whining doesn't work, he'll resort to irritating you by holding your cheeks and squishing them, turning your face towards him and playfully asking, "have i got your attention now?"
he's always gentle though, and if it upsets you he'll press his lips to your cheek afterwards, "to kiss it better" <3
( 범규. ) 🧸 tickling you
gyu gets really happy seeing you laugh and try to wriggle away when he tickles you.
he knows all your weak spots from experience and knows how susceptible you are to his attacks. if you annoy him or tease him he'll unleash his tickling attacks onto you until you're giggling and pleading for him to stop, almost in tears.
( 범규. ) 🧸 thigh squeezes
although he isn't always the best with serious conversations or words, if you're anxious or sad he'll gently place his hand on your thigh and squeeze. just to let you know he's there for you and you aren't alone.
although it might seem like a playful gesture, he only does it when you need comfort, and he's always serious about it. it's meant to be reassuring, and it is— knowing that no matter what, gyu will always be there for you.
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jjunieworld · 9 days
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hii!! i love ur work and i was wondering if u could accept this ask and write about how reader is a cat person and their cat hates beomgyu (or the other way around) since hes one for dogs (txts recent vid 😓) but he gives the cat a chance and gradually grows closer with it? i just think itd be really cute 🙁
ˋ🧾 ‎⸝⸝⸝ your cat vs. beomgyu
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this is cute omg!! it reminds me of like when you got a pet that your parent clearly didn’t want but all of a sudden the pet is their baby and they’re calling you like “do you think [your pet] will like this??” or “look at what i got for [your pet]! isn’t it so cute???”
that’s how i think beomgyu would be like one day you bring home a little cat that you found on the street or something and he’s not very pleased… but you look at him with big pleading eyes like “i couldn’t just leave the small thing there, look at it!!” and he agrees on the both of you keeping it to your utter joy
you then quickly start to notice how him and your cat always seem to have it out for each other :(( everyday he’s showing you the multiple scratches from your cat with a pout until one day you come home to see the two of them curled up next to each other sleeping and it’s the cutest thing in the world (but don’t tell beomgyu that you saw it cause he would deny that it ever happened!!)
and it’s a complete 180 from that day onwards! you start to hear him talking to your shared cat in some type of cat language he acquired and your cat actually responding and you begin to wonder how you got to this point but are also happy that the two of them are getting along now ♡
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soobinsonly1bf · 4 months
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okay guys, but can we talk about puppy gyu... LIKE I'M SO SURE HE'S INTO PET PLAY, YOU CAN'T TELL ME I'M WRONG.
warnings: nsfw kinda?, pet play, puppy!beomgyu
he would love to wear a collar with his owner's name on it, showing it off to everyone, but most of them are oblivious to what he really has around his neck...
he would love to just sit right next to his owner's feet while they're working. he would just wait here until he gets some attention, trying to be a good boy... but in the end he wouldn't be able to wait patiently, so he whines and interrupts his owner, just making his situation worse and not getting attention for even longer.
he would love to be petted on his head, just laying it on his owner's hand and begging them to pet his hair.
he would always try to be a good boy... and always fail, because he's so impatient. he likes being bratty and having to learn his lesson tho...
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lualuabestningdungie · 2 months
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Soft Kisses | C. Beomgyu
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Genre fluff; pairing boyfriend!beomgyu x gn!reader; warnings lots of kisses, established relationship, not really suggestive?; wc 400
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Places where Beomgyu loves giving kisses
Forehead
While cuddling close to him, his arms around you engulfing you in a tight embrace while your head is pressed to his neck, your breathing giving him a soothing feeling of warmth. He pulls you in a little tighter as his lips press against your forehead leaving soft kisses there. Whispering ‘i love you’ and feeling his heartbeat increase with yours.
Shoulder
When you have a tough day, feeling stressed out and very irritated, Beomgyu will offer to help you relieve your stress. He gives you a massage to relief the tension on your shoulders. His hands move soothingly on your back and shoulders making you feel better. Once he’s done, he’ll place a soft kiss on your shoulder.
Palm of your hand
When his head is resting on your lap as you play with his hair. Beomgyu’s trying to concentrate on the movie playing on the TV, as your hand brushes his hair softly he feels his eyes flutter shut. The feeling of tranquility and calmness you’re both sharing makes the moment even more special. He takes your hand and brings it close to his lips giving a short kiss to your palm.
Neck
His head is on your shoulder as you’re sitting on the couch. Your comfort show is playing on the TV, but you’re not really paying attention. You and Beomgyu talk about your day, the voices from the show become background noise. He moved closer to you, nuzzling his head on the crook of your neck, and you can feel his warm breathing. He leaves a few kisses on the base of your neck as he pulls you closer to him. He then placed a kiss below your jaw making you blush.
-
Lua’s note: Hello loves, im back with this uh little something. I’ve been really inactive lately and, but I’m afraid I’m going to suspend some of my works for a while since I’m working on my Bewitched series (I haven’t finished it and it’s eating my brain). Since the stories are a little long, it’ll take more time to upload. But thank you for the support <3
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andkisses · 3 months
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♡ a good way | beomgyu ♡
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despite the director casting you and beomgyu, your best friend, as the romantic leads, you both promise it won’t change anything between you
♡ beomgyu x gn!reader | wc. 9.1k ♡ genres/tropes: college!au, friends-to-loves, theater!au, hurt/comfort ♡ mentions of/warnings: injuries, lmk if there's anything else ♡ a/n: this is a rewrite of a fic i wrote and posted YEARS ago; unfortunately it was eaten up when i accidentally deleted my blog :’) it was originally for joshua from svt; i changed some of the times in the fic from the original, so if it’s a little wonky that’s why :’) pls enjoy ! <3 at the time it was my longest fic, now only second to roman holiday ^^ a/n 2: apologies for my absences ! i had some health issues even tho it was supposed to be my break :') im doing well now ^^
♡ masterlist ♡
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It was strange. Weird. Practically unfathomable and there must be some kind of mistake. The play had those two characters as romantic leads. The ones who slowly turn to look at each other, catch the starry glint in the other’s eye before slowly leaning in, before slowly closing their eyes, before slowly feeling their heartbeat accelerate because oh heavens this is it—before slowly kissing each other for the first time with such tender passion some members of the audience start to cry.
Those roles were not ever meant for the ones who have been friends since seventh grade, where one of them accidentally tripped and tossed their lunch all over the other, rendering the former an apologetic mess and the latter slightly smelling of garlic for the rest of the day. Not for the ones who stayed up far too late binge watching whole seasons of anime because they finally turned in that big project and it’s in fate’s hands now. Definitely not friends who are each other’s best friends, always. Never them.
But when the director swings back to the two of you, the mischievous and excited glint in his eye is unmistakable. His giddiness even bubbles over and he repeats himself, happily gazing between you and the best friend of 8 years standing beside you. “Beomgyu, Y/N, you will be the best two leads this stage has ever seen.”
You don’t want to talk about it. You avoid it for as long as possible. Have every conversation about everything else possible except the one topic that actually needs discussion. The trees outside are slowly losing their crunchy leaves, littering the ground with crimson and gold and sprigs of chocolate in between. They rustle and fuss when walked over, and shuffle down the street in a hoard of warning, proclaiming threats of the bitter winds of winter that would soon approach and engulf everyone whole.
Some mornings, you can see remnants of late-night frost on window panes, icy designs laced over the glass in the early morning hours. The grass glistens and shimmers with frozen dew, and the sidewalk is slippery enough to encourage walking slowly or bypassing concrete altogether and walking through the dead leaves. Some nights, you can see your breath curl as you wait outside the diner, a translucent white beast disappearing into the night. As night draws darker earlier, the air grows colder, like a mysterious ghost. One moment, you’re warm—the next, a bitter chill sprints around you, immersing everything in a coldness that drills past your layers and settles into your bones.
But you’d wait a thousand years in the cold just to walk him home. You’d wait forever if it meant seeing him one last time before the day ended and blurred into the next through a series of dreams and quiet darkness.
Beomgyu is one of the last few people out of the diner; he never closes, but he stays as long as he can, helping out and cleaning before his boss gets angry and tells him to “go home! Don’t you have homework?” When he steps out onto the street, making sure to close the door behind him, he’s safely bundled up in a black pea coat and a plaid woolen scarf that, when wound up, nearly encompasses his neck, chin, and even the bottom tips of his ears. When he sees you waiting for him again, he smiles, eyes lighting up like firecrackers and his grin is so warm it starts to defrost your bones, slowly but surely.
“You know you don’t have to wait for me?” he says, falling in step with you as the two of you began the chilled trek back to your apartment.
“Yeah,” you shrug, “but then who will make sure you don’t get lost on your way back? Or, I don’t know, get eaten by a star-monster?”
“A star-monster?” He quirks his head towards you, raising his eyebrow in mild but amused confusion.
You nod your head. “What if the stars gang up on you and snatch you right off the face of the earth and you disappear into the sky? And no one knows or can save you because I wasn’t there? Hm?”
A bitter chuckle escapes his lips. The white curl of his breath fills the air in front of him before it fades, taking the bright look in his eyes with it. “Then I guess I wouldn’t have to be a part of the musical, would I?”
Silence washes over you like a breaking wave—it hurts and stings, knocking everything away and tossing the tiny ships around into chaos. The only sound now is the brush of the wind skirting the leaves down the street with you and the distant city noise. The heels of your shoes hit the pavement in time together, and your breaths slowly start to match up. But something’s off; you feel it in your heart and your bones begin to ache again as the cold ice returns once more, spreading their chilled fingers across them.
Somehow, you find your voice, but it’s quiet and small. “It couldn’t be that bad, could it?”
Beomgyu shrugs, looking anywhere but you. He throws his head back and stares up at the night sky, where the stars kindly twinkle back at him, almost as a promise of we’d never steal you away. You look up, too, but all you see is a menacing darkness that you’re not sure you can get rid of. It feels like it’s bearing down on you, pressing down on your head, your shoulders, and your heart. With it comes a dark doubt, one that oozes into the cracks of your armor and makes you start to question things. It beckons out the dangerous thoughts—the what ifs—and coaxes them into the light and forces you to acknowledge them. What if... this changes things. What if... it ruins things. What if...
“Y/N?”
Your gaze drops back down. Beomgyu stands a few yards ahead of you, in the light of one of the yellow streetlamps. You must have stopped while lost in thought, slowing down until you ended up stuck in between two lamps, in the shadowy part. “Hm?”
He shakes his head. “You just stopped walking.” He turns toward you completely and quickens his pace until he’s beside you again. The look on his face screams of concern, of wondering if his best friend is fine or if it’s something he can’t fix. He reaches out to take your hand in his. “Is everything okay?”
Your heart swells, but it still feels as if it will break, shatter, crumble at any time or place. It feels like porcelain, that if it isn’t handled with care and marked FRAGILE, it will ruin to the point that nothing can fix it. You know what question you have to ask; it’s weighing down on your tongue and you’ll have to force it out.
You gulp, and you can feel your hand shaking in his. Beomgyu’s eyebrows knit together, his starry eyes trying to search for what’s wrong. For what is in need of helping. You stare back at him, garnering the courage to ask the question that’s been plaguing you since roles had been assigned. “The show–it won’t change anything between us, will it?”
And then, he does something unthinkable.
He laughs.
Beomgyu lets go of your hand and bends over in half, practically cackling at the idea, whisker dimples on full display. When he stands back up again, he’s still laughing hard enough he crinkles into your frame, resting a hand on your shoulder and burying his head into your neck, an arm resting across his stomach. His body shakes with laughter, and it’s infectious. A grin slowly spreads across your face, and then a giggle works its way out until the two of you are both laughing like fools. You may be between two lampposts in the shadows, but there’s light where you are.
When the laughter finally subsides to gentle smiles, Beomgyu takes your hand again and tugs you close. He starts walking again, pulling you along, swinging your arms between the two of you. He knocks into your shoulder jokingly, and the both of you smile harder.  “Of course not,” Beomgyu says. His smile is pure, assuring. The hand in yours is warm, stable. “Nothing will ever change us.”
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Seventh Grade.
The auditorium was full of anxious students, the buzz of noise telling the story of those who were waiting for their turn to shine on stage. The lights were turned on as bright as they would be for a performance, and the stage was decorated with real props from last semester’s performance, a steampunk rendition of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. No one thought the director could pull it off, but when the curtains closed for the last time that first showing, everyone was left starstruck and a new round of students was inspired to try out for the next performance.
A loud clap from the director thundered through the auditorium, signaling for attention and shocking you into your seat a little further. The red fabric bristled against whatever skin your sweater didn’t cover. Outside, the harsh winter weather pummeled the barren landscape, the dead, empty tree branches getting whipped by the bitter, unforgiving wind. The light dusting of snow made everything brighter, almost to the point it hurt to look out the windows at the white world. Inside, however, was full of warm tones and warm breaths. The heat of the auditorium practically had you sweltering, making you wish you had worn layers instead of a bright green sweater. The threads around the collar began to itch at your neck, and you tugged at the hem in search of relief. You really wanted to be here. You really wanted to audition. But the number of people and how long you’ve waited has started to play mind games with you. What if they don’t get to you today? What if they skip over you entirely for someone else? Someone with more theater experience from prior years than you, a complete newbie? What if—
“Hey, uh, is this seat taken?”
You looked up, still fiddling with your itchy collar. It was the boy from the day before—Beomgyu. The one who had accidentally tripped over someone else’s backpack and thrown his lunch all over you. He looked like a complete wreck, one hand holding onto the wrist of the other arm, his dark brown hair falling into his eyes as he struggled to even look in your direction. You shelf your own nerves and offer up a kind smile and pat the seat, which he hastily filled.
It’s quiet between the two of you for a while afterward. On stage, more students rotated through songs and performances, some spectacular and others a little lackluster. It was beginning to become monotonous, and your mind started to wonder if you had gotten here earlier, would you have already auditioned by now? But then something happened. A student walked on stage, introduced themselves politely, and then began to blow everyone and every other performance out of the water. The way they moved, spoke, sang—everything they did was captivating and you felt yourself leaning forward in your seat, drawing ever nearer to the practically perfect audition. There was no music playing in the background, but their vocals and stage presence was more than enough. The entire auditorium erupted in applause when the student on stage finished.
“Wow,” you breathed out. You’d practically fallen out of the chair—feet standing on tiptoes, elbows on knees, chin rested in your cupped hands with a shimmer in your eyes. That. You wanted to be like that. Bewitching, enchanting, and utterly spellbinding.
“I know right?” the boy whispered beside you. The two of you turned to look at each other, and somehow, in the back of your mind, you registered he was sitting the same way you were, looking completely and utterly enraptured with the previous performance. He stared into your eyes—the first time, you noted—and you could see the stars, like a secret milky way full of wonder. There was a serious note in them. “Let’s both do our best so when we grow up, we can be that good.”
“No.” You shook your head, and Beomgyu’s face collapsed into confusion. You shook your head again, this time with a mischievous grin spreading across your lips. “No, when we grow up, we’ll be way better.”
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A murmur ripples around campus. Sophomore year of college, and all of high school behind you. You’d think you would be used to it by now, the way quiet words spread around so sneakily but somehow always managed to make their way to your ears, too. But when the girls in the bathroom see you and slyly turn away, whispering how you and Beomgyu have the romantic leads, how of course they do, you can’t help but feel the knot in your stomach form and twist your insides until you feel pressure on your heart as well. Until it feels like you’re about to burst and spill everywhere. You want to spin at them, throw your hands out, and tell them how it’s not like that! That there’s nothing between the two of you except for friendship, the purest of kinds! Stop thinking that way!
But the wiser part of you, the one that’s been through high school, knows that they would just nod their head and try to hide their smirk. You can’t change their minds; they’ll always be thinking and imagining what they want.
Outside, the halls teem with people trying to get to their next class or break. You debate on stopping by your locker near the theater—you won’t need your books again until you go home thanks to rehearsal, but it would be out of your way to get there, on the opposite side of the arts block. But your books are heavy. Really heavy. Like shoulder-breaking, premature back pain-inducing heavy. You find that your feet have started to take you through the crowds to your locker before your mind decides on the plan itself.
In middle school, your and Beomgyu’s lockers were practically as far as they could be from one another. Yours by the gymnasium and near the arts building and the theater. With your mismatched class schedules, you only got to see each other at lunch and for theater. As your friendship grew, he would let you borrow locker space. It got to the point where you basically co-owned each other’s lockers; everything for classes on his side of the building was in his locker and everything for classes on your side was in yours.
By the time high school rolled around two grades later, the two of you were inseparable. As were your lockers. His at one end of the hall, yours at the other end on the opposite side. This only caused trouble junior year, when the two of you had such a bad falling out you could hardly bare to walk past one another’s locker let alone the other person. You would end up taking roundabout ways to your own locker, which worked until you ended up running into him one day without warning.
But you don’t have that problem now. As you walk past Beomgyu, who’s standing by his locker talking to another theater kid, you lightly slug his shoulder. You turn to walk backward and catch his reaction, and he’s staring back at you with fake confusion and his arms thrown up in the air. “You’ll pay for that!” he calls after you.
“Yeah, yeah, sure I will!”
You reach your locker, a happy smile on your face, glad your best friend is the kind of person you can beat up on. You spin the lock with precision, ready to open the door, slam your books inside on the shelf, and hurry to the theater for rehearsals. You can’t wait to see what strange exercises the director would have up his sleeve today; last time, he had everyone stand on the steps in the audience and each time they recited a line correctly, they got to move up two steps. First to the top wins; you and Beomgyu tied for first.
When you pull out the lock and swing the door open, what you see ruins your mood instantly. The crisp, white, inch-thick script stares back at you with quiet remorse. Remember me? it seems to say. Don’t forget about me. You’re almost afraid to touch it, knowing exactly what it holds in its pages even without having read a single line. If your fingers were to graze it, it’s as if an electric shock would shoot out and stop your heart from ever beating again. A tiny part of you wonders if, if your heart really did stop beating, would Beomgyu come to your side and rescue you?
Or would it be like the other night, with a sharp, bitter laugh and a mild happiness over a forgotten kiss.
You’re jostled out of your stupor by a neat punch to your arm, and you fall back into your locker with a metallic clang. When your vision focuses back on the real world, you see Beomgyu walking away from you towards the theater with a confident smirk on his face. He throws out his hands, his smile growing even wider. “I told you, you’d pay for that!”
You’re smiling too, now, and you hurry and grab the script and race after him.
It will all be okay. The two of you had already talked about it, how nothing could change between you two. Regardless of what the girls in the bathroom would dare to say in front of you. Regardless of what anyone else on campus or your major are thinking. Regardless of the script that burns slightly in your grasp, the crisp paper threatening to cut tiny slices into your delicate skin. You and Beomgyu—inseparable best friends for the rest of time.
It would always be that way. No play, no roles, no romantic leads, would get in the way of that. You’d promised each other you’d be each other’s best friend, always.
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Freshman year.
Sunlight streaming through the loosely drawn curtains was what woke you, lit patterns playing across your face. Your back ached from sleeping on a couch at a crooked angle for who knows how long. You stretched and tried to pull at your sore joints, attempting to return them to pre-crooked status. The room was still dark; the lamps were all off and the only other source of light was the television, where Netflix was playing some random anime you don’t remember ever selecting or talking about. Vague memories float up to the surface slowly as you finished waking up: you and Beomgyu had turned in a big semester final project that neither of you had thought would be finished on time but somehow managed to pull off. Deciding to get take out and stay up as long as possible watching as many seasons of anime as you could fit in and—
“Boo!”
Your scream echoed through the small dorm and you pulled at the blanket on top of you, trying to hide behind the soft, comforting quilt. On the other side of the couch was Beomgyu, laughing so hard he nearly rolled off onto the shag carpet rug. You half thought about being kind, and warning him to be careful because if he fell he could hit his head on the coffee table, but the other half said he scared you and deserved whatever happened next.
“How could you be so mean!” you whined, reaching behind you to grab a pillow to throw at your best friend’s face. “How long had you been planning something like that?”
Beomgyu paused his laughter to think. “Probably since I woke up about ten minutes ago. It would have been more elaborate, but then you woke up and I ran out of time.”
“You’ll pay for that, you know,” you muttered, drawing the blankets closer against your chest, where inside your heart still beating faster than usual.
“Even after helping you with that project and pay for dinner? On a college budget?” He paused for another moment, resting his chin between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. “Wait, pay for dinner... seems like I’ve already paid for it, Y/N.”
“Beomgyu!” You lunged forward, diving towards his end of the couch. Instead of a successful attack, you landed squarely in his arms, where he proceeded to tug you tightly against his chest. Escape, you soon realized, was futile. You’d have to talk your way out of this one. “Beomgyu, let me go. Now!"
“You know, you sure are whiney when you wake up,” he commented, rustling the hair atop your head. Your heart was still beating quickly and you were convinced the flush of your cheeks was due to large bouts of boiling hot rage streaming through your veins. “And why should I?”
“I would be in a nicer mood if you hadn’t scared me!” You tried to wriggle your arms up and pry your way out, but his grip was solid still, strong and warm. Since when was he ever this strong? His cheeks, you noticed, were warm and rosy as well, but that was from laughing too hard, you were sure. Why else would they be flushed?
“You may have a point…”
“Of course, I have a point! Now let me go!”
Mischief swam around with the stars in your best friend’s eyes. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, planning something you could only hope wasn’t entirely embarrassing. One eyelid dropped shut, and the smirk on his lips was unmistakable. “I will, but only if you pay for breakfast. From somewhere nice,” he rushes to add. “Student union doesn’t count.”
You released a terse sigh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “Fine! Deal! Now, release me!”
His arms slid away and you rolled over onto the floor, gently landing between the couch and the coffee table. The carpet was rough against your bare arms, but you were glad to be freed from Beomgyu’s death grip.
He was situated on the edge of the couch, chin resting lazily on his forearm, his eyes filled with mild shock and awe. “Really?” he gasped, as if he couldn’t actually believe you’d agreed. “Even if it’s the overpriced brunch food from the boutique down the street?”
You sighed, staring back at him.  “Yes. Even the brunch food from the boutique down the street.”
A moment of stillness, then...
“I’m glad we’re best friends," he said plainly, no hesitation in his voice. His dark eyes had warmed to a welcoming honest color, the kind some people could describe as home. The air around the two of you was still, a precious silence that quietly begged to be broken softly. Outside, the morning birds began to sing their late winter tune, beckoning spring to arrive as soon as possible. The sun filtered through the tiny windows brightly now, filling the dorm with warm yellow like that made everything feel nostalgic. Like the perfect ’80s movie.
When you found your voice, your words were soft but not timid. They held the same amount of honesty and weight as his had. “Me, too. We’re best friends, always.”
A soft smile played at Beomgyu’s lips as he echoed your promise. “Always.”
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The walk back to your apartment is chilly. Even though the sun shone brightly ahead, the first freeze of the season the night prior plunged your town from late autumn into early winter. What few leaves remain on the trees might as well be frozen on, and the rest of the dead ones scattered around on the pavement, crunchy husks of their former selves. It’s daylight, but you can easily imagine if darkness were shrouded around you, your breaths would be rising out in front of you in vague translucent puffs. Cold describes everything in sight.
Beomgyu is close by your side, nestled in that ridiculously oversized scarf of his. Christmas is a while away, but you’re already planning on getting him a nice, Beomgyu-sized scarf, probably a deep brown to match his eyes.
“What’cha thinking about?” His voice, clear as crystal, cuts through the air like a sharpened knife, but it doesn’t startle you. It’s warm and inviting against the bitter winter weather, a gentle fire among the cold.
“What I’m gonna get you for Christmas,” you reply, burying your hands into your coat pockets. The pavement scuffs beneath your boots, the walk back home growing boring. As you crossed the street where you two used to part ways freshman year, him to the left and you to the right, you remember when he said his parents told him they were moving during high school. How distraught the two of you became, only to find out he was moving in across the street from your house. Now, you split the rent for a two bedroom apartment. “How about you?”
“To be completely honest, I’m wishing I had remembered my gloves this morning, because right now, my hands are extremely cold.”
You laugh, a bright chuckle, and pull your own hands out of your pockets, staring down at the grey gloves cloaking your fingertips. You hold out your hand towards him. “Want to take one?”
Beomgyu scoffs. “And let you suffer from an equally terrible fate as myself? I think not. At least one of us needs to live.”
You laugh again, throwing your hands back into your pocket. “Fine, be that way.” You cut in front of him, dashing over to the short decorative stone wall running as a divider between the grassy park and the sidewalk. In a quick hop, you’re walking along the top as it gradually slopes higher to the point your feet are even with Beomgyu’s waist.
He stares up at you as you hold your arms at length on either side of you, a small frown playing on his lips. “Be careful,” he warns, the tone of his voice surprisingly stern, something he rarely treats you with. When you look down, you see his brows creased as he follows your pace.
“Yeah, okay, dad,” you laugh, finding the bitter look on Beomgyu’s face amusing. The stone wall beneath your feet is sturdy, and your balance is just as solid. Years of strange theater exercises had brought you that. You can even see your apartment down the street; you’d walk all the way atop this wall, taller now still, and show him.  You’ll get to the end and hop off dramatically and tease him for worrying. He keeps pace with you perfectly, still by your side even if there’s distance. The look in Beomgyu’s eyes tells you he wants to reprimand you, take you by the waist and set you safely on the sidewalk before scolding you on every reason why you shouldn’t have done that. But you don’t need him to. You’re perfectly safe with no reason to worry and—
You’ve misstepped.
Your foot is too far from the center, closer to the edge of the stonewall than you had anticipated. There’s not enough foot on the edge to save it. Your impressive balance is misplaced even further as your arms circle widely at your sides, trying in vain to regain some semblance of stability. You can feel yourself pitch sideways, your feet finally coming out from beneath you, and now you’re looking up at the crystal blue sky.
There’s not a cloud in sight, odd for this early winter day, and for the shortest of moments, it’s like you're falling through the atmosphere. The cold wind biting at your cheeks is caused by your descent. The screams you hear are just the air rushing past your ears, calling your name, not anyone else. The clunk of bodies hitting the pavement is just an illusion.
Your vision snapping to black is just a mistake, a cruel trick of fate, like the dark doubts that swarm around your head when you’re all alone. The blackness is almost welcoming, and you succumb quietly.
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Twelfth Grade
Four weeks.  Just under a month. Your life had gone from bold with color and emotion to two steps from dead and lifeless. Subjects you’d once enjoyed, now dull and monotonous. Walks to school were boring. Lunch and free period were non-committal. You’d skipped theater more than your fingers could count; you’d gotten an email from the director asking if everything was okay.
But it wasn’t. Nothing was.
Because it had been four weeks, just under a month, since you’d talked to your best friend.
What you’d even been fighting over, you couldn’t remember. That entire night is a fogged mess in your memory banks, existing but inaccessible. You know it’s there, but your brain, or maybe your heart, refuses to replay the details for you. The only information it relays is that there was a fight, and somehow some kind of words were said that ended in hot tears and storming out of houses with no goodbyes, take cares, or any sign of always.
Life since then had been weird, like you had shifted from one plane of existence but the world didn’t shift with you. Like a blurry camera shot, where one part of the image is in focus with fuzzy edges but everything else is shaken and smeared like thick wet paint.
All the love and joy theater had brought you since seventh grade was gone, five years nearly shattered to pieces inside your nearly-broken heart. You had no idea when the light would return, or if you would ever act again. It was so closely entwined to him, it physically hurt to walk near the theater or even think of certain plays.
Just like it hurt in the classes you shared. Sitting across the room from each other as far as possible, as opposed to right next to each other and sharing looks and soft smiles. The other students and even the teachers were left in a mild tailspin of confusion. There was never a scene made, nor any words spoken. Glances weren’t exchanged anymore. You never looked in his direction; your heart would ache far too much to handle.
Different pathways were even chosen to get between classes. You didn’t want a chance encounter in the halls, you couldn’t handle it. You guessed he couldn’t either, because you never saw him. There were never any accidental meet ups by your lockers, either.
Your plan had been to skip theater again and take the bus home, riding it around until it dropped you off last. You wouldn’t have to see him, it wouldn’t have to hurt, for that day at least. But you were running late, another teacher asking if you were okay needing brushing off. You needed to hurry and stop by your locker to retrieve your books. The bus was leaving soon; if you wanted to leave, you’d need to rush.
The halls were empty, everyone either in their after school clubs or outside waiting for the buses. You hurried to your locker, fingers anxious to spin the code in, grab your books, and leave. You reached inside, ready to retrieve the books by their spine and disappear from this place for what would feel like a short eternity. The hall was too bright, too empty, too--
“Y/N?”
Your heart skipped a beat, head whipping to the side. Beomgyu stood mere feet from you, but he might as well have been a thousand miles away. There were no longer any stars in his eyes, no warmth or cheer. They were sad, dark pits of self-doubt. They were muted screams, begging for help but not being quite loud enough. The dark circles under his eyes pleaded as well, and the downturn of his lips was what sent your stoic, bored, “I can make this” facade spiraling downwards.
You reached forward instinctively, wanting to cup his cheek with your hand and gently rub away the dark circles with your thumb, but you froze midway. Your voice even hitched. “Beomgyu... you look…”
“Awful? Dreadful? Like hell?” he filled in for you, and you couldn’t help but nod. Your chest was tight, almost to the point you wanted to clutch and tear at your heart to find relief. And the way your best friend was standing, shoulders slumped and body looking one strong wind from caving in like a fragile house of cards, it seemed like his heart was aching, too.
“What happened to us?” you asked, voice quiet and quivering. The hot buildup of tears began behind your eyes, making the edges of your vision blur together in a mass of sad, muted tones. “Why did we—”
“I don’t know,” he answered quickly, anxiously, as if he doesn’t speak fast, he’ll lose you again. He took a tender step forward, leaving only a few feet between you, but it was still too much space. You missed being side by side, close enough to bump into each other’s shoulders or elbow each other’s sides. Beomgyu took another tiny step towards you when you didn't move back. “What were we even fighting about?”
“I don’t know.” You felt like one step away from crumbling inwards, clasping in on yourself and all the way to the cool hallway floor. Your hands were shaking now at your sides, and you gripped your hoodie hem to prevent the shivers from racing up your arms and shaking the rest of you until you shattered into tiny shards. The moment your fingers curled around the soft hem was when you realized: it was his. You’d thrown in on that morning without even thinking. Now, all you could notice was how strongly, how nicely it smelled like him. You took in a solid breath of air to prevent the tears from spilling over, but it was shaky and unconvincing. “Whatever we were fighting about, it’s not worth this. I miss you, Beomgyu.”
His eyes were still empty, no stars in sight, but now they were glossy with tears. His chin quivered, and his lips moved to say something but couldn’t. His fingers curled and uncurled around the leather strap of his messenger bag. His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “I miss you. So much it hurts to breathe, so much I can’t stand to look at you in class or else I feel like crying. Whatever I did, I’m sorry. Please, please, forgive me and be my best friend again. I don’t think I can take life without you anymore.”
The both of you lunged forward at the same time, wrapping each other in a hug. Your arms clung to his neck while his encircled your waist, holding you close. Warm, salty tears finally spilled over, running down your cheek and onto the soft denim of his jacket. By his shaky breaths, you figured he was crying, too. “I don’t want you not in my life anymore either,” you managed, hoping somehow that you’d made sense.
Beomgyu laughed in your arms, drawing you even nearer. “Good, because I really didn’t want to have to explain to your father why I was standing under your window with my guitar instead of just letting myself in like usual.”
You laughed too, but the kind of broken laugh where you find pure happiness just after harsh sadness. Your heart swelled with joy, knowing that Beomgyu was still yours. The time you’d spent apart, not talking or goofing around or shoving each other playfully with stupid grins on both of your faces, had been life-draining. You’d never get it back, even if you spent forever together. You never wanted to go through anything like that ever again.
Beomgyu nestled into the crook of your neck, words whispered so quietly you knew instantly that they were just for you. “We’re each other’s best friends, always. Right?”
You wrap your arms around even tighter, a true smile on your face for the first time in weeks. “Right. Always, Beomgyu, always.”
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The apartment is quiet. The shades are drawn open, allowing late afternoon sunlight to spill in and swim around on soft carpet floors, bathing them in warm yellow light. The television in the corner is on but mute, the news airing with no noise. The heater kicked on a minute or so ago, filling the house with nicely warm air. Outside, soft baby snowflakes begin to fall out of the sky, the first snowfall of the season. If the sound had been on, you would have known that the weatherman said the snow was no reason for concern—it wouldn’t accumulate to the point it was dangerous. Just a light dusting, something to make the outdoors look nice and wintry.
But you are unconcerned with whatever the weatherman’s words may be or the consequences of the snow. There are more pressing concerns.
Your voice warbles as you pull out the first aid kit from above the washer and walk back into the living room. “Beomgyu, I’m so so sorry, I—” You bite down on your lower lip to prevent yourself from crying; there wasn’t time for that now.  The white plastic lid snaps open, and you pull out the gauze, the alcohol wipes, and the bandages with shaky hands. He sits on the edge of the couch, one hand bracing himself on the cushion, the wounded one resting tenderly on his lap.
You lower to stand on your knees and reach out to take the hurt one in yours. You stare down at his split second knuckle, an ugly gash that would surely scar no matter how kindly or tenderly you treated it. Caused because of your stupidity, your recklessness. Caused because you tripped or slipped or something and fell off the wall. Caused because he risked his safety to catch you. You feel your heart break, knowing the scar would be your fault, forever, and you can’t ever fix it no matter how hard you try.
There’s no going back, or rewinding time to try again.
Beomgyu winces as you wipe at the cut with the alcohol wipes, and you mutter sorry after sorry. It’s beginning to not even feel like a real word. You can feel your chest heaving, one step away from a total breakdown as you swim through deep and measured breaths. Guilt pours over you like a thick syrup, sticking to every surface and threatening to drag you down and drown you whole. It fills into the cracks of your armor, bubbling up inside you like a witch’s brew. As you place the gaze and wrap the bandages around his hand, your breaths are coming shallower and shallower, your ability to keep it together fading. When you tie the bandages into place, you let go and drop to sit on your heels, all energy gone. Your head hangs in shame, and you wish you could crawl away and hide somewhere until further notice.
Which would be easier if you didn’t share a damn apartment.
However, your best friend won’t let you.
“Hey,” he calls, his voice soft and soothing. His healthy hand curls under your chin, gently begging you to look up, and you comply. His eyes are calm and filled with stars again,  and other emotions you can’t quite place. He smiles kindly, and you can feel your heart shatter at that instant. Right now, you don’t deserve that kindness. Your shoulders spike up and tears begin to spill over. Beomgyu’s face collapses into concern, and he slides off the couch to sit on the floor next to you, legs crossed.
When he places his hands on your shoulders, you try to shake them off. “Please, just...” Your voice falls away. How could you ever apologize for what happened? You knew you shouldn’t have, and yet you did. You knew he seriously disapproved, even if he didn’t voice it totally, and yet you continued. You knew, deep down, that you were getting cocky, and yet you didn’t stop. You had plans on teasing him, mocking him for his concern. The guilt presses down and down, crunching against your head, your shoulders, and your heart until you could scarcely breathe. Quiet sobs heave against your frame, from your torso down to your whole body. You could tell, soon, that you’d simply shake apart into fragments that could never be pieced together again.
You injured your best friend from your own stupidity.
“Hey,” Beomgyu says again, and this time, he reaches for you and pulls you into his lap, safely tucking you under his chin. You don’t resist, and even if you wanted to, you doubt you could have done it past all the crying. He gently rocks you back and forth, rubbing your back, soothing you as one would a small child. Once your sobs have subsided, and your breaths return to a semi-normal state, he speaks again. “I don’t hate you for what happened, if that’s what you think. I could never, I…”
You pull yourself slightly from his grasp, enough to stare at him at eye level, coming out from underneath the warm spot of his chin and neck and shoulder. The emotions swirling around amongst the stars in his eyes are new and unusual to yet, and some part of you feels at home with them. Your voice is quiet, almost hesitant, when you talk. “You... what?”
Beomgyu takes a breath, as if steeling himself. "I have something I need to tell you."
"Need?" you echo, head quirking to one side in confusion.
He nods, staring straight into your eyes. When he speaks, his tone is something you’ve rarely ever heard before. “Need. My chest might burst if I don’t get this off it, and that wouldn’t really help me graduate. Or tell you this. So... and seeming we might as well have almost died…” You roll your eyes at his dramatics, and Beomgyu seems hesitant, but only for a moment. Years of going up on stage have prepared him, but you can tell in this instance, he’s honest, 100% himself, and your best friend, not some actor playing a character for some play. 
He takes another breath before: “I think I’m in love with you.”
Your eyes grow wide, a small gasp escapes your lips, but he doesn’t stop.
“No, that’s not right. I know I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you for a long time but this... this is different. I want to keep you safe, to wipe away any of your tears. Seeing you sad just... tears at my heart. It hurts. Whenever you're sad or upset, I feel the same way, even if it’s just words over a text message. I really did feel like I was going to die when we had that fight. Living without you was unimaginable, but I had to go four weeks without you. Without your voice, your stupid jokes, your laugh. I guess I was in love with you then, too, I just didn’t know it.”
Words escape you, any witty comeback gone. You stare at him, the honesty in his eyes, thinking you’d see him differently after his confession. But you don’t. He’s still Beomgyu. He’s still your best friend. He’s still your Beomgyu.
One of your hands raises, and you tap yourself on your sternum. “Me?”
Beomgyu rolls his eyes now, as if he expected some kind of response like this. “Yes, you. I mean, who else would look up at the night sky, invent a star-monster, then worry about it taking me? I’ve wondered if I was really in love with you, like really actually in love with you. But when you fell and I caught you and you blacked out and I didn’t know why... Y/N, I was so worried. I could feel my heart breaking and I knew that if you never woke up, I wouldn’t ever be the same again.”
He’s mere inches from you, arms around you, body heat radiating off in such pleasant ways you feel okay with melting straight into the floor. His hands move from around your back to ghost around your face, like they want to caress you but are too afraid you might shatter like a fine porcelain under his touch. And his eyes—damn, his eyes. Every star, every galaxy, stirring together to create a beautiful milky way, a gaze so firm and caring you feel as if you’ll never look away. That if you somehow managed, too, you’d feel as if you were missing something dear and important.
Your heart flutters in your chest, its beat stuttery against your wrists. Oh, how on earth did you get here?
Maybe it was when one was so starstruck by the other they stopped watching where they were walking and dripped over someone’s strewn out, overstuffed backpack. When the other offered up a seat beside them during the audition to help settle nerves. Maybe it was when they woke up next to each other after having fallen asleep after binge watching an entire anime season or two, with Netflix on some other autoplay show, one was wondering how the other could look so soft and delicate just after they wake. When the other was happy that they were in each other’s lives. Maybe it was when they declared they’d always be friends, best friends, but now always seems to be more weighty and mean a little more than before.
Maybe, just maybe, this is when they slowly turn towards each other, catching the starry glint in the other’s eye. When they slowly lean forward, ever closer, to the point they can feel one another’s soft breath. When gazes go from eyes to lips and back. When heartbeats slowly start to be harder and louder. When you feel like you might be the one crying because oh heavens—this is it.
But there are things those plays never mention, things the audience can never detect.
They never mention how the palms of hands become sweaty, or how automatic it is to take a soft breath before another pair of lips meets yours, a touch so delicate you finally understand what all the hype is about.
How nice it feels to have two hands cupping your cheeks so gently, their little fear of shattering you gone, or how your own hand curls into the fabric of his shirt as if it’s second nature, the most right thing in the world.
How tantalizingly dizzy a first kiss is.
How soft lips are, how soothingly warm to the point you wouldn’t mind if they were all you felt. How tender goosebumps trail down your spine until something begins to pool in your stomach.
How, even though you’ve become utterly breathless, you can’t stop at just one, because now something that's been building and growing for years has unlocked.
Hands that trail from cheeks to ghost over the nape of the neck, sliding down arms softly to then find purchase at your waist. Kisses, more warm, tantalizing kisses that leave you craving for more. Kisses that roam from lips to chins, then trail down the jaw to tease and nip tender patches of skin on necks, only to return to corners of lips for more wholehearted, dizzying kisses.
You’re warm, almost hot, but it’s so pleasant. What exposed skin you have tingles with feeling, with a craving touch and affection, too. The two of you rest your forehead on one another’s, breath still shallow from all the kisses exchanged, hands softly interlocked with fingers entwined, or as much as one can with bandaged knuckles. He finds his voice first, though even it is soft and a little hoarse. “I should have done that a long time ago, huh?”
You giggle and snuggle closer, nestling into the crook of his neck. You place a kiss underneath his chin. Beomgyu rubs even patterns on your back with his healthy hand while you take the bandaged one in your own, cradling it gently. You pull it up to your own lips, kissing where each knuckle is softly. When you look up, you see the stars glowing in his eyes, brighter than anytime you’ve ever seen them. 
Beomgyu sighs, eyes softening at the corners. “I guess the kiss in the play won’t matter anymore, hm?”
You lightly slug in him the shoulder, a love-filled smile playing on your lips. He smiles back in a similar manner, his eyes lighting up with happiness. “Oh, and I guess this means you love me back, too.”
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People fill and mingle around the diner, looking for an open seat among the crowds of customers. And older couple swoops in as soon as you vacate the booth, not even caring that your dirty dishes were still neatly stacked at the edge awaiting pick up. But you didn’t mind. You push through the doors to wait outside while Beomgyu paid. Even though there’s a small crowd at the counter, you knew exactly which one he was. Beomgyu wore his light blue jacket, the one that accentuated all his features nicely. You’d have to make sure that whatever Beomgyu-sized scarf you bought matched that jacket. He needed to wear it as often as possible.
The first official date was almost over, but you knew there would be many more to come. 
Once he’s finished paying, Beomgyu makes a beeline for the door, carefully navigating around all the people crowding the entryway. “Is it always this busy?” you ask when he rejoins you.
Beomgyu shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess so. But knowing you, the most gorgeous person ever alive, would be there waiting for me was very motivational.”
You do little to hid your smile.
He takes your hand in his, interlacing your fingers as if it were second nature. Maybe, it was, and you two had just been trying to ignore it. This walk from the diner back to your apartment had been done countless times before, but this one is special. And now, you think, it really is your apartment. 
Beomgyu starts to casually rub gentle circles onto your skin with his thumb. “It’s the perfect kind of weather for me to take off my jacket and give it to you to keep you warm, you know.” He then takes a deep sigh and throws his head back. His next words come out playfully clipped. “But, someone had to be smart and wear their jacket.”
“Well, you’re not dating a fool,” you chuckle. When you notice Beomgyu pouting, eyes downcast away from you, you laugh again and poke him in the shoulder to get his attention. “Thank you anyway, Beomgyu, for always thinking of me.”
He turns back to you, all smiles. “Darling, I don’t think I could stop thinking of you even if I tried.”
“Ew, gross.” You laugh, white curls of breath forming in front of you. But, unlike last time, there is no cold or ice in sight. No dark thoughts and doubts plague you tonight. You’re delightfully warm and happy.
“Ew, gross yourself,” Beomgyu mimics, throwing his tone to match yours. “I’m cold too, by the way. So I guess thanks for thinking of me by thinking of yourself. God, you’re like the smartest person ever.”
As the walk home continues, so does the conversation. "Our parents seemed pretty happy when we told them, huh?" Beomgyu mentions, a smile playing at his lips.
“Maybe they planned it,” you muse. “Maybe the director was in on it. They wrote it all together because they decided it was now or never.”
Laughter fills the air, and even in the dark spots between the lampposts are filled with light.
You nudge your shoulder into Beomgyu’s, garnering his attention. “Can I ask you a question?” When he nods, eager to hear what you have to say, you continue. “Why did you throw your lunch on me that day in seventh grade?”
“That was an honest mistake!” he exclaims, eyes filled with desperate honesty. The blush along his cheeks as he looks away is readily apparent. When he looks up, his eyes are filled with sincerity. “But sitting next to you on audition day wasn’t.”
A soft smile plays at the corner of your lips. “I’m glad I got there late, then.”
“Me, too.” A moment of silence falls between you, but it’s comfortable, like an overtly fluffy blanket made just for two. Afterward, Beomgyu is the first to speak again. “Okay, I’ve confessed something from our past that’s mildly embarrassing yet still endearing. Now it’s your turn.” He turns to you with a mischievous grin on his lips.  "’Fess up, darling."
It takes a small instant, before: “Oh! You know that time we stayed up all night and watched anime after that big project? When we woke up the next morning, even though you scared the hell out of me, I thought you were pretty cute.”
Beomgyu’s eyebrows quirk up, his grin grows wider. “Cute? Me? You thought I was cute?”
Pink blush rushes to your cheeks before you smack him on the shoulder. You drop his hand and quicken your pace. “You were cute, you’re not anymore.”
Beomgyu races to catch up with you, takes your hand again, and bumps into your shoulder gently. “Of course I’m not cute anymore. I’m handsome.”
You make a fake gag. “Oh, please!” There’s no sense of lightness when you shove his shoulder.
“Hey, now,” he says, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand, another fake pout on his lips. “Be nice to your boyfriend.”
You scoff. “Is that what you are now?”
“What else would I be? More than friends but not a boyfriend…” Beomgyu’s eyes brighten as he lets go of your hand and snaps his fingers. “Aha! Your husband!”
You shove him with two hands this time. The idea of being with him like that is overwhelming to the max. “Fine, you’re my boyfriend, then.” The word feels foreign on your tongue, but you can easily imagine them growing comfortable. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. Your Beomgyu.
He slings his arm over your shoulder and pulls you close as your apartment slowly grows larger in the distance.  He leans his head over and rests it gently on yours. “I guess I lied,” he mutters, and you pull back confused even with his eyes on you, rich and loving. “I told you the play wouldn’t change things between us.”
A smile slowly spreads across your face. “But... we changed in a good way, right?”
Beomgyu answers you with a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, caressing your shoulders kindly and pulling you just a little closer. “Yeah, we changed in a good way.”
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niningtori · 2 months
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to know him is to love him, and i do | chapter one: do you not love me? like at all?
pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, kang taehyun x you
summary: you love beomgyu more than anything. you just wish he loved you, too. or you finally break up with beomgyu and move on, but as for him? maybe he's starting to realize too little too late.
genre: romance, angst, angst with a happy ending (?)
word count: 2.1k
notes: hi friends! ... r u mad at me? be honest (*´ェ`*) i'm sorry i've been gone for so long, but i've had the worst writer's block with my other story. i decided to just post this because i couldn't get the idea of toxic!beomgyu out of my head. don't worry, he will suffer. anyway, i hope you like it!! if not, please don't hurt my feelings i beg.
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"i told you it was nothing. why are you freaking out?"
"she was fucking you with her eyes, beomgyu!" you exclaim in frustration.
"and that's my fault how?"
"it's not your fault, but i'm sick of you entertaining women, let alone your actual fucking ex, while i'm standing right next to you!" his ex is just another fish in the barrel, or at least that's what he says, but the thought that they were intimate together at one point still makes you feel sick. truthfully, your boyfriend is handsome, so you've spent the better part of the past 10 months warding off the women who circle him like vultures. you wouldn't mind as much as you do if he seemed at all interested in helping you do so, especially when faced with his ex that you suspect he still has feelings for, but he does not. quite the opposite, actually. it's like he thrives off of the attention and god it hurts.
"i'm not entertaining anybody. i told her i have a girlfriend now," he, well, you would say argues, but it's said so nonchalantly it doesn't warrant the term.
"a girlfriend you proceeded to ignore while she hung off of your shoulders and laughed all night! i just don't understand how you don't understand how much it hurts my feelings. i'm a human too! how would you feel if my ex, who was very clearly interested in me, hung around me right in front of you?" and it's like you're explaining empathy to a child.
"me? i wouldn't give a fuck because it's not that serious," he replies with a slightly irritated shake of his head.
it's always like this. always. you're always the one who cares more between the two of you. you were the one who asked him out in the first place. you were the one who initiated your first kiss. your first fight. hell, even your first reconciliation. you're not stupid, you know he doesn't feel quite the same way you do, but he has to feel something, right? otherwise, why would he say yes to you when he's rejected so many other women? your brain hurts trying to wrap your head around it all.
"you're missing the point! if you were me, you would—" you begin frustratedly, but you cut yourself off. "you know what? i don't even have the energy to explain this to you. i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" you all but shriek.
"you don't have to do shit, just leave if you're that fucking unhappy," he spits out angrily, which is the first real emotion — besides mild annoyance — you've seen out of him this entire conversation. he gets impatient when you're like this, which usually results in you relenting, but not tonight. you're far too hurt to let go so easily.
"you're right! i am unhappy! i just — why don't you care that i'm unhappy? what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" you have a brave face on but you can feel your eyes getting hot and your voice trembling ever so slightly.
"you could try not being so damn needy, maybe that'd help."
your eyes redden even further and your lips unintentionally twist themselves into a sour frown. you hate it when he calls you needy because you do need a lot from him, it feels like. his time. his care. his attention and affection. yet you never seem to get it.
"do you not love me? like at all?" you ask. all of the venom in your tone has been sucked out mercilessly and you sound more helpless than angry.
"do you not realize how fucking crazy you sound?" he scoffs as if he can't fathom why you'd be upset. as if he's not watching you break down in real time.
"why won't you give me a straight answer?" you question, voice softer than it was before.
he does nothing but scowl and you know beomgyu well enough to know that he's avoiding your question. that's enough of an answer as it stands, really. he doesn't care. never has. probably never will.
"then why'd you even say yes to dating me?" you truly don't understand. you thought you were different. you thought he saw something in you he didn't see in his harem of other suitors, and trust that there were many.
"i dunno. i was just bored, i guess," he answers with a shrug and your world as you know it collapses. the man you love sees you as nothing more than a way to kill time. he's picking you up right now just to toss you away when the next shiny toy presents itself. and so far, you've let him drag you around because you love him. that's how much you love him. but looking at him now, at how unbothered he is, you wonder if you've even got anything left to give.
"i really do love you," you manage to squeeze out with a bitter smile. your poor heart is on display for the naked eye to see and it seems like he really couldn't care less, but that won't stop you from asking. "does that mean anything at all to you?"
"well, i'm sorry you feel that way," he says simply, "but that's not my fucking problem."
your heart sinks to your stomach and you feel like you're going to throw up. in this moment, as you watch the love of your life dismiss you like you're a fucking dog begging for scraps of food, you feel an overwhelming sense of clarity as you realize he doesn't love you. he doesn't even like you. he probably hates you, actually. like a mental montage, every moment in which he showed you that exact sentiment plays all at once in your head.
all those times you let him choose everything from movies to dinner because the idea of a compromise was inconceivable. all of those occasions, special and otherwise, where you were supposed to go out on a date, but he'd bail without a word and you'd forgive him with no apology. when you'd offer him your share of dessert because he ate all of his and you knew he wanted more, and he'd take it without so much as a thank you. how you'd sit and listen to him tell stories about how amazing his friends were, but he'd never even ask about your day. when those same friends would jokingly call you the perfect girlfriend and you thought it was an indication of how good your relationship was, but in reality, it was a way to tease him because the thought of actually being with you was so abhorrent and ridiculous that it must be a joke. all those times you told him you loved him and he'd just smile and kiss you deeper. memories like these flood your brain with a vengeance so cruel it makes your head ache, and in a way, you realize it's ridiculous to be surprised when there was so much proof of his feelings in the first place.
"oh. okay," you say with what you hope is a soft and unbothered laugh, but comes out more as a choked one. "i guess there's nothing left to say. i'll get my shit and go."
you hesitate for a few excruciatingly awkward moments before collecting yourself enough to start gathering your things, which are scattered haphazardly around his apartment from his bedroom to his bathroom. it's like a walk of shame, almost, and you feel even shittier when he plops down on the couch with a long suffering sigh as he begins to massage the bridge of his nose. you feel so small in this moment — like a petulant child who just got done throwing an unsuccessful tantrum — and you're now soaking in the sobering aftermath and sitting with the thought that he just watched you have a meltdown like he was watching a monkey putting on a show. how much more is he going to humiliate you? enough is enough, you think, so before you can actually finish collecting all of your belongings, you're scurrying out of the apartment. before you go, you glance back at him one last time. "beomgyu?" you ask tentatively, tears clouding your eyes.
"yeah?" he replies with a sigh. this is it, you think.
"i don't want to see you ever again," you say firmly. before he can reply, if he ever intended to in the first place, you slam the door.
-
there's a lot to love about beomgyu. for one, he's handsome, which is obvious, but he has a certain allure you could never help but be drawn in by. he's always been a charming man, but even more so when he's talking to a woman he's interested in. as interested as he could be, that is. he's funny and comically pompous when he wants to be, but still somehow down to earth despite it all.
he's been described as a mood-maker, and while he grew to resent that term, you thought it was at least partially true, if only in the context of your relationship. when he's sad, you're devastated. when he's happy, you're over the fucking moon. his feelings are your whole world. or were, you guess, since all that's over now.
it wasn't all bad all the time, you think. there were times where you thought he really might reciprocate even a fraction of what you felt for him, and most of the time, that was enough. you could work with that. love looks different for everyone, you would reason. maybe he just had a funny way of showing it.
there were days where you'd laugh together and end the night lying in each other's arms while you'd cradle him like he was the most precious thing in the whole world because, to you, he really was. he was normally so boisterous when with his friends, but while he would never admit it to anyone else, he'd tell you about some of his insecurities while you gently combed your fingers through his long, silky hair. he'd speak of regrets and longing for people to take him more seriously. he'd never say it, but he wanted people to see you like you saw him. the real him. you'd let him cry while your hands cupped his cheeks and you'd shush him while he fiddled mindlessly with your hair like a child. you'd kiss his the tip of his reddened nose until he laughed instead of cried. times like those, you'd really think you were someone special to him. but now you realize you were wrong. you were just an outlet for him, and anyone willing to be an emotional dumping ground would do the trick too.
after a few weeks of moping, your sadness has begun to morph into anger and resentment. you spent nearly a year of your life trying to make an emotionally stunted man care about you, and that's not even counting the years of pining over him before you finally worked up the courage to ask him out. it was difficult to see it in the moment, but after being away from him for so long, it's crystal clear that he was honestly just an asshole who didn't really like you. nothing more, nothing less. maybe he'd find someone to change for someday, maybe he'd even work things out with his ex, but for whatever reason, you weren't her. that's just the way it goes, you guess. what really bothers you are the "what if's" of the situation. what if you were prettier, or smarter, or kinder. would he have seen you for who you really are? would he have grown to appreciate you if you had given him more to appreciate?
either way, there's no use crying over spilled milk now. you won't be going back to him any time soon and he certainly won't come crawling back to you. you'll continue to think of him less and less until your time together fades into a distant (and unpleasant) memory. you smile at the thought.
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enluv · 9 months
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soft launching with beomgyu !
PAIRING! - non!idol choi beomgyu × fem!reader
SYNOPSIS! - beomgyu and y/n portray their relationship through a series of soft launching <3
genre(s): comedy, tooth rooting fluff, soft launching, 01 liners !! mentions of mark lee !!
warnings: profanity, dark humor (kms, die, etc. jokes), that's all but tell me if I missed something!!
soft launching masterlist -> found here!!!
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coco’s love note: honestly I feel like this isn’t my best and I apologize for that. I have been going through immense writers block and this took me longer then usual. nonetheless, I hope you still enjoy this as I tried my best with the way I’ve been feeling lately. thank you @i-luvsang for the date ideas 🤍 and as always, feedback & rbs are always appreciated <3
txt taglist?! @en-fvr @jaerang @bloom-bloom-pow @gyuuss @yourlocalhotgf @kyublr @spooooooooooon @enhacolor @butterfly-skinnylegend @dinosdance @888ollie @14shroud @junityy @soobin-chois @fairybinie @lolalee24 @ja4hyvn @crxzs @jwonsgirl @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo (bold can’tbe tagged)
soft launching taglist: @junebug032 @jwonsgirl @ggggghost @beoms-sugar @luvlee1313 @chaerybae
— Wanna be tagged? Check out THIS post!
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channoticedmeuwu · 11 months
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𝐁𝐄𝐎𝐌𝐆𝐘𝐔 — 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 & 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄
P — BEOMGYU × FEM!READER | G — SUGGESTIVE, fluff if you want to squint, fake dating!au | W — implied alcohol consumption, written in a writer's block so possibility of it being bad 📈📈📈 + not proofread
a/n — an attempt to escape this writer's block help ✋ don't bring soobin up right now this is beomgyu's girl ur talking to
INSPIRED BY . . . ENHA'S 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐄
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the bass vibrated through the floor and synced with your heartbeat as you eyed beomgyu in a crowd of friends from across the room— a carmine colored haze curtaining your vision as you eyed his lips, shining with your clear lipgloss.
“it's so believable,” he had said before the party, laying on your bed, referencing to the relationship you two were faking, “she would totally believe it's yours.”
“she's rude,” was the only response you could cough out, jealousy clouding your vision as you reached over for the tissues to wipe the eyeliner you messed up once again, “your ex would just say my ‘dramatic girly personality’ is rubbing off on you.”
but beomgyu wasn't ever letting his ex get to him. he only turned over, running his fingers through his hair and smiling pretty at you, “am I not your girl, y/n?”
you didn't even know what he still saw in her. she loved to bring everyone down when she had no good qualities of herself to present. and you always happened to be in her line of vision. but you only chuckled at beomgyu as he bent over towards you at your mirror, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“i need to show her you're mine.”
for a second, you felt your wrist halt while you applied your make up. what did he just say?
“y'know,” he continued, “to make her jealous.”
of course. why do you even try with him?
“then just leave a hickey or something.” you felt your haste creeping up towards your cheeks in the form of a blush. beomgyu rested his fingers on your waist.
and then, with a small ooh! he grabbed the lipgloss that was trending on social media lately — your prized possession. “careful!” you turned to smack him, but stopped when you realized the close proximity of his lips near your own, “that one's expensive, beomgyu.”
“i'll buy you another one,” he rolled his eyes, unscrewing it and bringing it towards his lips, “dior, right?”
fuck. you wanted to kiss him. he puckered his lips as he admired himself in the mirror. from his scent wafting around, to the texture of his leather jacket against your bare skin; you were starting to get impatient. “y/n,” he turned to you, pleasantly satisfied, “don't I look pretty?”
“the prettiest.”
so there you were, knees weak as beomgyu's eyes searched the room for a sight of his ex— which, obviously, was starting to get the better of you. this entire ‘relationship’ was starting to get the better of you. his hand, wearing your hair tie, was fiddling with the zipper on his jacket. you could see the jacket was being pulled off his arm, taking the weak sleeve of his tank top underneath with it, revealing the small mole on his collarbones...
and then you heard the conversation of familiar voices behind you. “fuck, beomgyu looks better the last time I saw him.”
“he's got a girl now.”
you chuckled. it was his ex.
“don't know where the fuck she is right now, though.”
“gyu's looking lonely, go comfort your ex.”
“not going to lie, maybe I will.”
you placed your drink down on the table you were leaning on. fuck it.
“hey, babe,” beomgyu's eyebrow cocked with slight amusement as you approached him, knees threatening to buckle as your eyes fixated on his shining lips. “you seen her anywhere?”
you placed your hands on his chest as he tilted his head, his hands involuntarily finding themselves at your waist. it was so natural for him to treat you like his; a thumb caressing the expanse of your hand as his eyes stared at you like you were the center of the universe, listening to you talk with the habit he had of blinking lazily and humming in response.
the flashing lights made his features so prominent, and you felt yourself leaning towards him. maybe it was the drink you were sipping on earlier, but you were absolutely done with playing this game. to have beomgyu treat you so good, act like you're all he's searching for, even when there's no one around to act for, and yet, just claim that it's all a lie?
“she's watching,” your lips were inches away from his. even though you knew your back was turned to her, you could feel her eyes drilling into your head, “kiss me.”
“god,” beomgyu scoffed, a hand dragging from your waist up to your neck in a painfully slow manner, “why are you so good for me?”
“wasn't this part of the deal?” you tilted your head as beomgyu's eyes glittered, scanning your every feature. your hands on his chest started to recognize a change in the pattern of his heartbeat. was he getting nervous?
“an ‘emergency kiss’ was part of the deal,” he smiled at you, like he was proud that you were becoming more daring the more time you spent with him. “us right now was ‘off-limits’, remember?” a finger tucked the loose strand of hair behind your ear, his voice changing pitch to mimic your past words.
now he was just asking to be shut up. you felt a scowl settle on your lips as your ears turned red from guilt. “so will you not kiss me?” that sounded more whiney out loud, you thought to yourself, as you blinked up at beomgyu, who was beginning to go red in the face from your demeanor. you were seriously driving him crazy.
“since you asked so nicely, pretty.”
relief washed over you as you finally felt beomgyu against your lips, a whine leaving your throat as his hand rested against your neck, lips curling into a smile against yours.
“is she watching?” you mumbled in between, drooping eyes watching his roll shut as your fingers snuck up from the nape of his neck into his hair—his favorite. he only pressed his fingers which were resting on your hips harder against your skin, breathing hitching at your question. the taste of the lipgloss made its way to clog your senses, taking a few minutes to register what he would say next.
“she left when she saw you with me.”
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txt — masterlist
main taglist (hmu to get added!) — @koishua @navyhyuck @allegxdly @daystiny  @kdyism  @neotism  @bluejaem  @radiorenjun  @sleepylixie @oifelixcmerebrou @mrkcore @imdamnconfused  @sicluvz @abhirami20 @tyongishs @emvrd @brxght-world
I’d appreciate if you’d give me a little feedback on the drabble if you read, whether it’s an ask, a reply or in the tags of the rb! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
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nightdiary · 1 year
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txt as moments of intimacy
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word count: 2.7k genre: fluff, established relationship, comfort author's note: this is my first published work, so i'm a bit nervous to share it with the world! i'm quite happy with it though, and hope that it can bring anyone who reads it a sense of comfort and warmth. 🤍
✧ yeonjun - washing your hair
when you come home after a particularly draining day, yeonjun's almost too quick to pick up on your weariness even if you're smiling. he instantly notices the tenseness of your shoulders and your bleary eyes when you shuffle up to greet him with a hug, one that's too rigid and awfully telling.
his heart squeezes when he watches you trudge to the kitchen and slump by the counter, dropping your keys and wallet onto it with a sigh. yeonjun likes to think he’s an expert at comforting you, especially after having been together for so long, but on days like this, uncertainness creeps up on him relentlessly.
drawing up beside you, he reaches out to trace a gentle hand on your upper back, eyes softening as you practically melt into his touch. he thinks he hears you mumble an apology, and something in him falters.
"how about i run you a bath?"
and before you can fully process his question, let alone finish saying yes, he's jumping out of his seat and speedwalking to the bathroom.
the bathroom smells like sweet lavender and cream honey when you walk in, and you find yeonjun crouched by the faucet, struggling to make bubbles with the liquid soap. he doesn't realize you're there until you giggle, startling him into nearly falling face-first into the growing heap of pink bubbles.
after you strip out of your day clothes, you shyly shuffle into the tub under yeonjun's watchful stare. you dare to look up only once you're submerged up to your shoulders and find that his eyes are filled with nothing but adoration. if anything, that just makes you feel even shyer.
yeonjun takes care in gently detangling your strands and making sure that he doesn't accidentally tug at your roots. his ministrations are slow, massaging your scalp and letting the blunt end of his nails drag along just the right places. you can almost fall asleep like that, lulled into a hazy doze by his soft humming and the comforting warmth cradling your head.
he takes his time in properly washing the product out of your hair and ensuring that none of the suds fall into your eyes, cupping the area just above your eyebrows with heed. once your hair seems to be all done, his hands slip to your shoulders and begin to knead in slow circles, coaxing soft sighs out of you the closer they draw to your neck.
after you're out of the tub and wrapped up in a clean, fluffy towel, yeonjun will seat you on the toilet lid and blow dry your hair. it's a bit awkward, especially since he hasn't really done this for anyone but himself, but the fondness with which he carefully cards through your damp strands is enough to make you forget all about your day.
✧ soobin - baking together
ever since soobin initially suggested you two bake brownies a month into your relationship, baking quickly became your favorite couple’s activity.
you were never really an expert, quite the contrary, but soobin reassured you that baking required less skill and more love. naturally, you called bullshit on his encouragements. if you couldn’t properly handle a mixer, much less bake cookies without burning them, you were sure it was a sign from the universe to stay away from baking.
and yet, several baking dates later, you found yourself genuinely enjoying the silly desserts you and soobin would curate. you even had a shared pinterest board on which you added any eye-catching recipes you scrolled past, and had gone through a sizable amount yourselves. from chocolate hedgehogs to studio ghibli-inspired creampuffs and outrageously sweet brownie-oreo hybrids, you’d pretty much explored all ends of the dessert category with soobin.
“this looks like a lumpy boob, not a cookie,” you whine loudly and step back from the counter angrily.
you and soobin are currently in his apartment’s kitchen, whipping up cookies for his family to enjoy tomorrow. after you found out they’d be in town, you slipped the suggestion to your boyfriend, who delightedly offered you two take on a family recipe. in retrospect, everything was going to be fine.
until you actually got your hands on the damn dough.
“babe, you have to form it with your palm, not your finger,” soobin giggles. he abandons his own tray to sidle up behind you, grabbing your wrists gently and imitating the technique he’d been using.
“i’ve tried,” you huff. glancing down at your hands, you watch in awe as your boyfriend manages to fix up the shape of the cookies, forming them into perfect hearts and stamping space in their middles for jam.
between the two of you, soobin was by far miles more experienced and adept at baking. you often found yourself frustrated with certain steps of recipes, unfamiliar with more practical methods and tricks that the directions called for. as such, you’d end up partially screwing up, and–
–and each time, soobin would drop what he was doing and come help you. he’d gently guide you and talk you patiently through what he was doing, ensuring that you understood the logic behind the approaches. he never once responded to your panic with annoyance or carelessness, despite the numerous times it’d happened.
without fail, soobin would always knead your worries away.
“there! do you want to go try with the rest of my dough?” you look over your shoulder and blink soobin’s face back into focus. he’s looking down at you with a soft smile, raising his brows when you take a minute to respond.
“yeah, i’d like that soob,” you say. before he can walk away, you spin around and cup his face with your flour-coated palms, giggling at his surprised squawk. pecking him squarely on the lips, you revel in his dazed expression before skipping away smugly.
✧ beomgyu - teaching you how to play his favorite game
despite how cool your boyfriend is, he's also a huge dork.
the kind of dork to geek out over computer games and text you with long strings of excited emojis whenever he progresses to the next level. the kind to facetime you during rounds and send you screenshots with updates, even if you have no idea of what you're supposed to be looking at.
it's really cute, you absolutely couldn't deny that, and it makes you feel ten times more enamored with him, but he is still undeniably a dork.
he's playing something on his computer when you arrive at his apartment for your date. it’s saturday, meaning it’s movie and takeout night for you and beomgyu, so you’ve come prepared (read: a slightly damp plastic bag with several containers of noodles, rice, and various types of meat). you call his name as you slip your shoes off, frowning when all you hear in response is the keyboard clicking from down the hallway.
peeking into his room, you shyly knock on the wall to get his attention. beomgyu almost falls off of his chair in surprise, but he launches up almost immediately to engulf you in an embrace. he asks if you’re okay waiting a couple of minutes for his round to finish, at which you readily nod and proceed to plop yourself down on his bed.
watching beomgyu play through his round is surprisingly entertaining, particularly because you’re not really sure what’s going on in his game. your gaze drifts off to his concentrated expression, tracing his soft features and dropping to his bitten lip with interest. something in your chest flutters, but you quickly push it aside when you see beomgyu lean back in his chair and a leaderboard pop up on his screen.
the game’s over, and yet you can’t help but be curious.
"can i try?"
you think he might laugh it off, might just shake his head and call you cute, but beomgyu's chair swivels around to face you and he looks anything but humored. instead, his wide eyes meet yours and you almost startle at how eager he looks. he nods bashfully, and as you draw nearer, you notice the growing red tint along the tips of his ears.
you're instructed to sit between his legs and rest your arms on his desk cover, hands hovering over the mouse and LED keyboard nervously. they're quickly covered by beomgyu's own, and he situates them on top of the necessary keys as he walks you through the basics of moving around and using items in the game.
it's honestly a bit confusing at first, but you think you get the hang of it when you manage to get through the first level. it's also very difficult to concentrate when you have beomgyu's chest pressed up against your back and his chin propped on your shoulder, so it's a miracle you don't end up sending his character into one of the lava pits from the get-go.
after a few minutes of familiarizing yourself with the basics, you begin to feel a bit braver, so you decide to join the queue of a team round. it isn't exactly the best decision, given the exasperated remarks from your teammates in the chat, but beomgyu cheers you on regardless and claps keenly when you score.
unsurprisingly, you place somewhere right above last place. but beomgyu is sure to give you a congratulatory kiss (or two) when you turn around to grin at him sheepishly.
✧ taehyun - sharing clothes
drip, drip, drip.
the rain outside of your window had measurably subdued, but you were still suffering the consequences of being outside at the wrong time. wrapping the towel tighter around your shoulders, you frown up at the murky sky and slide the curtains closed again.
“you’re going to catch a cold like that,” your boyfriend’s voice rises from behind you, and you look back to find him toweling his damp hair. you also find that he’s not quite clothed, just like you, and resist the urge to scoff despite your reddening ears.
the situation you found yourself in was frustratingly preventable. if either you or taehyun had taken a look at the forecast for the day before meeting for your date, you wouldn’t be shivering or about to catch a cold. you were caught outside when the storm came on, and taehyun’s place was the closest shelter you could take, so you braved through the few minutes of running in the rain to get back.
your heart catches in your throat when he steps closer, and you pointedly look away from his defined torso. he’s smirking, you can tell from your periphery, but you won’t let him win this time.
“and it’ll be all your fault,” you huff. “where’s that sweatshirt you promised me?”
taehyun laughs, and you instantly feel yourself relax despite the way your body's shaking. he gestures for you to follow him, and you watch as he digs around in one of his drawers for the promised snoopy sweatshirt. it’s the one he was wearing when you two first met, and undoubtedly your favorite from his entire wardrobe.
as you’re slipping it on and reveling in the comforting smell of his laundry detergent, you catch a glimpse of a criminally-familiar shade of pink out of the corner of your eye. tugging the sweatshirt down properly, you thank taehyun and watch him pace over to the side of his bed to grab some moisturizer.
while he’s busy rubbing on lotion, you curiously open the drawer again, and– there it is. your beloved hoodie. in all of its stolen glory.
“hey,” you say, furrowing your brows. “isn’t this that hoodie i texted you about? the one i wanted to wear out with my friend? you said you didn’t know where it went!”
picking it up, you hold it out in front of you and frown.
any sound from taehyun’s direction halts and you look over to see him grinning shamelessly. “oops?”
“i’m going to start keeping a lock on my closet,” you grumble. ignoring the flutter in your chest, you haphazardly fold the hoodie back up and toss it onto the bed.
taehyun says nothing, but you hear him approach you and hold your breath, trying to will your racing heart to calm down. except that he doesn’t kiss you on the shoulder like he usually does when he senses you’re upset. instead, you hear more shuffling, and can’t help but sneak a glance over to see what he’s up to.
you’re met with an image that makes your chest feel stuffed to the brim with butterflies. taehyun’s wearing your hoodie, his hair adorably ruffled, and he’s looking up at you with wide, smiley eyes that melt away any last of your resolves. you can’t even pretend to be mad at him anymore.
“you can keep it i guess,” you know your exasperated sigh sounds fake to both of you, but taehyun laughs and kisses you on the cheek for good measure.
his fingers dance along the sleeve of the snoopy sweatshirt you’re wearing, humming absentmindedly as he brushes off any rogue pieces of lint. “yeah? i suppose this is a fair trade then.”
✧ kai - tracing his moles
kai’s bed is cramped. warm, comfortable, but also cramped.
you’ve woken up from your nap because of something poking you in your upper back. you don’t need to turn around to know that it’s one of your boyfriend’s plushies, likely the new pokemon you’d gifted him for his birthday. you were plenty excited when you’d found it in store, absolutely delighted because you knew he’d be overjoyed with it, but you were slowly beginning to strongly dislike it.
reaching back with a wince, you attempt to dislodge the stupid glaceon, prodding and pushing around blindly, but your bicep begins to burn uncomfortably after a few moments.
a soft huff from your front draws your attention away from the pressure against your spine. kai’s face is nestled comfortably against your chest, and it seems like he’s trying to wriggle around and make himself space further up, closer to your collarbones. immediately, any prior negative thoughts vanish, and your heart practically melts.
your boyfriend’s sleepy noises are enough for you to abandon any efforts to move the plushie, so you settle with running your fingers through his hair. it’s blond for now, and surprisingly soft given the intense bleaching process it’d undergone. he stirs in response, but the happy hum he lets out reassures you to continue with your movements.
blinking blearily, you squint over at the blinds covering the windows, where the sky outside has turned a mellow, sunset-y orange. you’d slept through the afternoon it seems, but you have no intention of getting up anytime soon. looking down at the boy in your arms, you surmise kai might feel the same.
his eyes flutter open like he can read your thoughts, and his lips pull into an adorable pout. smiling back, you let your hand gently fall to cup the side of his head, thumbing at the speckled spots you find.
“weirdo, why are you staring at me while i sleep?”
“your moles are really cute,” you say, ignoring him. tracing the tip of your finger up from his cheek, you tap his temple gently. “they sort of remind me of a constellation. like the big dipper.”
you feel rather than hear the flustered whine that kai makes, right against your sternum. he curls up against your front, and you almost forget about the fact that he’s big enough to have his feet hang off of the end of his bed. his arms and legs wind tighter around you, almost as a form of punishment, and you gasp when you feel his hand flitter up your side threateningly.
thankfully, no further moves to tickle you are made, and you relax again in his hold. he’s warm, pleasantly so, and you can feel your eyelids beginning to droop.
you’re almost asleep when the pressure along your back disappears. you hear shuffling, and then something that feels an awful lot like kai’s arm brushes your side. incoherently, you mumble a soft thank you, and you’re certain he’s understood you when he kisses your forehead and tucks you into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.
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