#and that means giving up her sick and vacation days! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

koqabear · 5 months

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Like Cat and Mouse!

☆ Playlist! ☆

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

Beomgyu x fem!reader, ft. Hueningkai

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

Word count: 37.1K

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is exactly how you got where you are now.

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

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

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

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

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

The seat in front of yours is quickly filled.

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

Jesus.

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

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

“No, I haven’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Home— I’m sick!”

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

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

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

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

This new purse would be divine in your collection.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who are you anyway?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course.“

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The rest of the day is quite underwhelming.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You think you’re dying.

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

Maybe you should call someone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Well, maybe not.

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

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

“But— you said it was—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You’re out like a light moments after.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His phone remains silent all night.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beomgyu can only gawk at your comment.

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

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

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

“Do you wanna hold him?”

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

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

It begins to climb up your arm.

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

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

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

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

Your body practically slumps in relief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Softly, he nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His stomach flips at the sight.

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

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

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

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

“This was fun.”

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

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Why did you do that.

“Oh god, why did I do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lemme make it up to you. Please?”

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

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

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

Pick me up please.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I need to go shopping.”

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

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

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

This department store is useless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck this. You’ll just order it online.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t tell me you worked here.”

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

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

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

“I thought you worked as a server.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

So pretty.

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

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

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

You’re carrying the purse like it were a baby; it isn’t until Beomgyu offers to bag it for you that you finally let it go, placing it gently on the counter and smiling fondly as you watch Beomgyu place it carefully in the equally luxurious gift bag, placing filler paper on top and handing it back to you, his movement practiced and calculated as he says his usual lines— his mind is running on autopilot once more, but you’re particularly eager to break him out of it as you reach out to take the bag from him, warm hand wrapping around his and tugging him slightly towards you.

“Thank you for all your help today,” you purr, shining lips stretching into a coy smile, leaning against the counter and watching as he gulps, adam's apple bobbing, “I think I’ll do well on our upcoming quiz— you’re such a good tutor.”

You don’t bother to stick around after that; your steps are brisk and you’re hugging the purchase close to your body, as though someone were after it and ready to take it, confidence in your step as you exit the store— Beomgyu, on the other hand, practically crumbles the moment you’re out of sight, fingers turning white from how hard he grips onto the edge of the counter; his heart pounds and the sound of blood rushing fills his ears, mind inevitably going back to your teasing action before he’s flustering again.

You’re laughing to yourself the whole ride home— his reaction plays on your mind like a loop, beyond amused by the sight as you pat yourself on the back for being able to come up with something so clever on the spot.

What you don’t realize, however, is that there are consequences to your actions— consequences that are far beyond your control.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“Are you for real?”

“Uh-huh,” you grin, placing a fond hand on your cheek and batting your eyes at Yunjin, “totally aced it.”

“That’s something I never thought I’d hear from you,” your friend says, poking her fork at her salad before taking a bite; she furrows her brows as she takes in your expression, mouth agape and eyes wide, as though you were offended. “What? It’s true.”

“Okay, first off— I’m not stupid, just lazy,” you clarify, pointing an accusing finger at your friend as you pout, “and second of all, you should really believe in your friend a little more.”

“I mean, it was a little hard to when all you would do was skip classes and go shopping instead,” Yunjin says, raising a challenging brow when you open your mouth to refute her claims— then proceed to promptly close it again, finding that you really can’t deny that— and a small smile tugs at her lips, the kind that lets you know that she’s about to say something really annoying, “but I guess your study sessions with your little boy toy really did work.”

“Boy—?!” you’re in the middle of taking a sip from your iced coffee when she says that, the straw slipping from your mouth and a bit of the liquid escaping from the sheer surprise of her comment— you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling a slight heat rush to your face as you stare at her incredulously, “boy toy?”

“I mean, am I wrong?” Yunjin challenges, tilting her head in curiosity while you simply try to deny her claims, “you were literally just telling me about the way you had him wrapped around your finger a while ago—”

“Not like that though!” you huff, feeling worked up from the mere idea of Yunjin finding out the complete and utterly stupid slip up you had a while ago, “god, he’s literally such a fucking loser, don’t try to pair me up with him— other people might get the wrong idea. It’s already bad enough that I had to get a tutor, because it’s not like I was doing bad in my classes until recently. I mean, it’s still my fault and I did let myself go, but I didn’t think I’d have to stoop so low! And now I have to take so much time out of my day to spend my time studying with him and even worse, you’re trying to insinuate something that definitely isn’t true—!”

“Yes! Okay! Enough of that please!” Yunjin says exasperatedly, glancing over your shoulder briefly before she’s taking another bite of her salad, muttering something about you having a motor mouth, “god, it’s just that… people have seen you two together a lot, you know? And with the way he’s looking over at you right now, anyone would think that he’s like… in love with you, or something.”

You’re sitting up straight and whirling around at that; following Yunjin’s previous line of sight, you’re able to pinpoint the said boy immediately— sitting a few tables away, catching him staring at you over his laptop, clearly distracted from his work— the moment your eyes meet, he flinches, hunching down so the screen hides him; it doesn’t work very well, and you’re able to see his downcast eyes and reddening face with ease.

Oh my god, you think with horror, a cold wave washing over you as you stare at him longer— and after a few seconds, he’s peeking back up from his screen, meeting your eyes once more and scrambling to hide unsuccessfully yet again. You decide to turn back around before anyone else around you catches on to this interaction.

“Oh my god,” you breathe out, meeting Yunjin’s gaze as she simply nods at you, her face screaming I told you so, “how long has he been there?”

“Like… basically this whole time,” Yunjin says casually, not fazed in the slightest by your horrified expression, “been staring at you for a while too.”

“Ugh, gross,” you groan, throwing your head back in defeat and staring up at the ceiling with a frown, “I think I might’ve gotten his hopes up too much.”

“C’mon, go easy on him,” Yunjin teases— your head is straightening up to look at her again, but a single glance is enough to tell you she merely finds this situation amusing, “it’s probably his first time properly interacting with a woman.”

“That’s even worse,” you mourn, slumping down and placing your head in your hands; a sudden reminder of your schedule is popping back into your head, and your peeking through your fingers in dismay as you relay the information to your friend, “and I have a study session with him today too.”

“Aww!” she coos, clearly having a blast as she grins, glancing behind you and undoubtedly at Beomgyu once more, “I’m sure he just can’t wait to see you again.”

“God, please shut up,” you whine petulantly, but your friend brushes off your pleas with a mischievous smile, “you’re making me wanna throw up.”

“What, you gonna cancel then?”

Silence. Any other day, you would’ve immediately jumped to say yes, pulling out your phone to text him and bailing like it was nothing. But today, you find yourself oddly reluctant to say this three letter word, unsure of why the answer is difficult to voice before you finally give in to the truth— your head slumps with defeat and you’re too ashamed to look Yunjin in the eyes.

“No.”

“Oh wow,” you hear her say, still blatantly teasing you as she laughs giddily— you don’t bother to react at this point, choosing to ignore the unspoken question of why you’re not ditching him this time.

“Hope you have fun,” she muses, taking one last glance behind you before she’s giggling to herself, “try to go easy on him, m’kay?”

Fuck, this was so embarrassing.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Today, you’ve changed up your meeting spot quite a bit; Beomgyu was thoroughly surprised when you asked him to study later on in the day, in a more secluded area on the upper levels of the library, telling him to pick a table and wait for you to get there after— usually, you tried to make your meetups as convenient for you as possible, choosing places that you could easily flee from.

When you finally come into his line of sight, Beomgyu frowns. You carry your bag with you, along with a troubled expression and tense posture, glancing around you continuously even if there was no one around, even if the table was hidden behind bookshelves— as though you were afraid of getting caught for something.

You’re dumping your things onto the table unceremoniously— and instead of taking your spot across from Beomgyu like always, you’re sitting next to him, catching him off guard and missing the way he tenses at the action— you’re scooting your chair closer to him and filling his senses with your scent, making him gulp thickly as he tries to not let his mind wander off; he realizes with dread that it’s really not working.

Beomgyu is a stuttering mess today; you pick up on it with ease, frowning at the way he continues to blunder through his explanations and having to repeat things to you multiple times, hands shakier than usual as he points out certain things in the text before he’s relating it back to the assignment.

“That— that’s one of the things the… the uhm, the professor said would be important to remember,” Beomgyu stutters, feeling his body heat up at the way you raise your brows at the sound of his cracking and meek voice. With one glimpse at your (clearly) judgemental and demeaning expression that you didn’t even bother to hide, Beomgyu is scrambling to get his act together.

It works, for a while; the two of you are left in silence as you work on the homework your professor assigned to you, and you remain unfazed at the feeling of Beomgyu catching glimpses at you from time to time; whether that be to look at what you had written down or simply to look at you, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care.

You’re snapped out of zone of concentration at the sound of rustling; a peek from your peripheral vision allows you to watch as Beomgyu has now begun to dig through his bag, wondering what he could be up to; with a roll of your eyes, you’re focusing back to the question you were working on, not bothering to glance back again even once the rustling has ceased.

Without warning, something is placed gingerly on the open surface of your textbook; you’re blinking in surprise before you’re registering what it is that has been put before you, brows knitting together as you wonder how you should react.

It’s a… mini paper flower bouquet.

You’re staring at the item for a solid few seconds before you slowly turn to look at the culprit. Beomgyu meets your intense gaze the best he can, putting up a confident front and fighting back the heat that threatens to engulf his face.

“Y–You— I heard you did well on your test.” He says, glasses slipping down his nose and bangs falling into his eyes, gaze flickering away for a split second before he wills himself to look at you again. Your stare is dead and unreadable.

“I never told you that.”

Beomgyu is losing this battle, his confidence visibly wilting away as his cheeks begin to get dusted with pink. His eyes are wide like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to respond as you give him a look that is expecting an explanation— his cheeks are now a bright red.

Even without his explanation, you both know how he got a hold of this news— and you’re thinking back to Yunjin’s teasing, the fear of being seen with him during today’s study session, and the flustered boy in front of you— and your mouth is running faster than you can stop it.

“Choi Beomgyu, do you like me?”

If the floor around you was already quiet before, it’s dead silent now; you’re even able to pick up on the stuttered breath Beomgyu lets out, his eyes growing comically wide as he simply stares at you; almost as though he couldn’t believe what you just asked of him.

“Actually, don’t even answer that,” you wave him off, choosing to ignore the way this seems to spring him into action, stuttering and failing to put together a proper sentence to tell you that no, he definitely doesn’t— you just caught him off guard!

But it’s not like you would believe him anyway, with the way he remains flustered long after you asked the question, unable to even look your way for the rest of the session, staring straight at the textbook and nowhere else whenever you would ask him a question— after a while, you begin to tire of his behavior.

“Choi Beomgyu,” you call out again, soft and dangerous as you turn to face him— he was attempting to explain a question to you, words dying on his tongue as he took in your sudden proximity— leaning in toward him, you tilt your head as you observe his reaction, watching the way his lips press together and his adam's apple bobs as he gulps softly; his puppy-like eyes shine as he waits for you to say something.

“Are you okay?” you ask him, your voice beginning to dip into that coy lilt that you’ve used on him only one other time— and that’s enough to have Beomgyu’s mind spinning, the poor boy thinking thoughts that he’s tried to suppress this whole time— your affect on him is beginning to show once more.

“You look a little…” your eyes flicker down beneath the table, a smile tugging at your lips before you’re looking back into the boy's eyes; catching where you were looking, Beomgyu can’t help but tug his sweater over his lap in embarrassment.

You’re leaning even closer now— your breath is fanning against the shell of his ear, the boy’s face practically on fire as his hands remain clenched and tense on his lap— he’s practically a statue due to your proximity.

“Distracted.”

Your hands are mischievous; curious, setting your pencil down carefully before they begin to wander, sliding across the table before it falls off the edge, nails scratching at the wool material of Beomgyu’s sweater before it lands on top of his hand that covers his lap— you grin at the choked breath of surprise he lets out from the simple touch.

“What— what, what are y–you—?” Beomgyu is about to bite through his lip at this rate, eyes wide and panicked as he watches your hand push his away, taking in the bulge in his pants as a flush of shame rises up his neck; you’ve caught him, but you don’t seem to be fazed in the slightest as you’re cupping him gently, looking up at him with doe eyes and lashes that flutter innocently— he thinks his heart might just explode from how quickly it’s pounding.

“Wait, wait wait— we’re in— other people might—” he’s tripping over his words, saying so much yet nothing at all, but the way his eyes skirt over the perimeter is enough to tell you what he’s thinking— yet all you see are bookshelves that surround and hide you well— beneath the warmth of your hand that has yet to move, you can feel Beomgyu hardening within seconds.

“It’s late. There’s no one else here right now,” you say sweetly, too sweet, a bit patronizing as you lean in close and coo the words directly into his ear— you’re brushing back his long hair with a gentle hand, tucking it behind his ears that he always seems to hide; they’re a pitiful bright red and decorated with silver piercings, absentmindedly caressing along his jaw with the back of your hand; his eyes flutter shut at the tender action, along with the feeling of your hand finally beginning to rock against his cock gently— and he melts into the chair, like putty in your hands as you watch his shoulders slump and cave into himself, his head hang at the stimulation; you’ve barely done anything, yet he’s already a mess— the sight surprises you.

“Go ahead,” you continue softly, hand cupping his jaw and cradling it carefully, attempting to get him to look at you again— and he follows your commands effortlessly, pretty eyes fluttering open and his head turning at the gentle push of your hand— and he’s looking at you with glassy, wide eyes, cheeks flushed pink and mouth parted as his eyes begin to flutter shut again— and your thumb is rubbing soothing circles along his cheekbone teasingly, leaning in slightly to whisper again, close enough that he can feel your breath fanning against the tip of his nose, “Puppy, look at me.”

He follows your command in a heartbeat; he’s met with another of your sickeningly sweet smiles, deceiving and comforting all at the same time.

“Go ahead now puppy,” you murmur, any movements of your hand ceasing entirely as you watch him with eager eyes, watching the way he seems to sober up at the loss of your touch, “take my hand off— c’mon, take it off if you really want to.”

A moment passes— he really should be taking your hand off, shouldn’t he? But his mind is clouded now and you look so pretty under the warm library lights, pristine and perfect as always, glossy lips and lidded eyes encouraging him with a deceivingly fond look— but Beomgyu loves it, and he loves the way you laugh mockingly at him, unable to control the way he whines petulantly and shakes his head, giving you your answer by thrusting his aching cock into your hand desperately.

“Good boy,” you utter absentmindedly, a compliment that makes Beomgyu’s hips stutter as you finally begin to inch up his bulge, careful fingers making quick work to undo his pants— and with one last glance at the deserted area around you, you’re slipping your hand inside and past the tight waistband of his boxers.

“Haah—!” Beomgyu is slapping a hand over his mouth and beating you to it, eyes wide and face even more flushed than before as he stares down at the way your hand disappears beneath the material of his boxers, expertly wrapping around his length and slowly beginning to jerk him off underneath the table.

You don’t seem to be worked up by any of this at all; your eyes are lidded with a slight boredom, a tiredness he’s seen at every one of your study sessions, watching the way you turn back to your homework and begin reading the instructions, hand still working expertly at his length as you do; Beomgyu has to press another hand firmly against his mouth the moment your thumb is swiping over his tip, collecting the constant arousal that collects there and using it as lube— you don’t even bat an eye at him during all this.

After a few minutes, you’re able to hear the slick sounds of your hand working against his cock effortlessly; the poor boy is aroused and leaking beyond belief, now sporting a wet patch against his pants that you seem to be dead-set on worsening— your pace is picking up and you don’t bother to glance at Beomgyu to check up on him, though you also don’t bother to hide the way your lips quirk in amusement at the sight of him trying (and failing) to keep his composure.

“M–mmh, agh— close, s’close…” Beomgyu stutters out pathetically, bucking his hips up messily and turning back into that desperate and rambly mess from the first time you sucked him off; his voice is deep and breathy as he whispers out these pleas to you, begs to not stop, to go faster, to—

“Beomgyu,” you whisper coyly, using this chance to finally put your plan into action, “Beomgyu baby, d’you wanna cum? Hmm? Want me to make you feel good?”

He’s nodding thoughtlessly; of course he’s nodding, his mind has gone blank and there’s nothing else in there that seems to make sense except for the way your warm hand wraps around his cock so perfectly, unable to stop the choked whines he lets out every time he feels you squeeze him teasingly.

“Then you gotta do something for me, okay pup?” you coo out, making sure to use the nickname you know he loves so much— he lets out a choked whimper at the sound, brows knit tightly together and hair falling in front of his face with the way he hangs his head— and you’re leaning in close to him again, breath fanning on his skin and your palm slapping his cheek softly, tapping at it to get his attention; it works like a charm, and his glassy eyes are meeting yours once more. “Puppy, are you listening?”

“I’m—” his words get cut off by a weak whine, feeling your hand tighten teasingly around him, “I’m listening— I’m listening.”

“Good,” you coo out, feeling the way his hips buck and he starts becoming restless, “now if you wanna cum, you gotta promise me something, okay?”

Anything, anything for you, he breathes out absentmindedly, and you’re sure he has no idea what he’s even agreeing to at this point.

“Don’t act like you know me when we’re in public,” you say sweetly, muddling his mind by increasing your pace, by doing exactly what you’ve noted makes him squirm and cry the most, “I don’t know you, you don’t know me— we’re strangers.”

You notice the way his face is twisting up in confusion; his mouth is parting and he’s fighting to say something, to ask why— but you’re not giving him a chance to, brushing his hair back and cupping his face, turning him to look at you and digging your nails into his cheeks to get him to meet your eyes; through the intense pleasure you give him, you can still see the hurt that swims within. You let out a soft coo at the pathetic sight.

“Come on, promise me, okay?” you pout, “you’re a good boy, right? You’ll keep your promise?”

His hips are stuttering and fucking into your fist again; you’ve got him pinned down precisely. Any coherent thought is fading out of Beomgyu’s mind and the only thing he’s concerned himself with is his impending orgasm, the feeling of pleasure that is only heightened with every string of praise you say to him.

“Be a good little puppy and say you’ll promise me,” you say, thumb swiping over his bottom lip before you’re pulling at it, dark eyes observing the way he melts before your touch and finally gives in— he’s nodding, you’ve got him right where you want him, and all you needed was a little bit of mindless praise. “c’mon, say it, say it and you can cum.”

“I promise,” he breathes out, whiny and high pitched and strained, as though speaking was a challenge for him, “I’ll do anything, please— pleasepleaseplease, let me cum, I’ll— I promise.”

“There we go baby,” you hum in approval, pressing a peck to his pouting lips and taking in the way his waterline is filled with tears that hang precariously, “such a good boy— my good boy.”

His hips stutter, rising off the seat, and you’re feeling warm spurts of cum land on your skin. His mouth is falling open and you’re sure he might just let out a loud noise, so before you can think twice, you’re pulling his face close to you and smashing your lips against his; he whines weakly into mouth, and you’re swallowing it greedily, kissing him languidly and guiding him through his high with praise that makes his breath stutter and his knees weak.

You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, and good.

It takes a while before Beomgyu is finally coming to his senses. He’s panting softly against your mouth, lips swollen and bitten at, his cock sensitive as the feeling of you continuing to pump him slowly suddenly becomes too much; with a shaky hand, he presses against your shoulder and attempts to signal you to stop. You’re pulling away immediately.

Beomgyu looks, for lack of a better term, absolutely destroyed. His face is flushed and his eyes are droopy with exhaustion, hair mussed and messy and his clothes in complete disarray; you look down, and you’re wincing in half amusement and half pity at the sight of the wet spot against Beomgyu’s jeans. He’s following your gaze, and if he could turn any redder, you’re sure he definitely would’ve; his ears burn.

Your hand is messy; his cum is still coated on your skin, sticky and incriminating as it sticks to your fingers and pools in between, a grimace twisting your face into a look of dismay as you stare down at the mess— before you can even think of what to do about it, Beomgyu is handing you a tissue.

His hand is shaky as he extends it out to you; your gaze is snapping up to meet his, only you’ve found that he can’t look at you at all— it seems as though the fog in his mind has already subsided and he’s realized what you’ve asked of him, lips pressed together and face still flushed as you finally take it from him. He turns away from you immediately, pulling his sweater over his lap and staring down at the disarray of textbooks and notebooks before him.

The silence is suddenly unbearable. You feel awkward as you wipe at your skin, even more so when you’re stuck with nothing but a soiled tissue and a hand that’s still undeniably dirty, the tension between you two now growing tenfold by the second as you finally decide that you should probably just go— it’s not like he’d be surprised by it anyway.

You’re opening your mouth to excuse yourself— to ignore the elephant in the room, to simply run away with a coy smile like you always do— but Beomgyu is beating you to the punch, and you can’t even hide the startled flinch your body does as he stands and begins to pack up hastily, shoving his materials into his book bag without a second glance to see if everything is perfectly aligned and neat.

You can only sit there and watch; it’s clear that your words seem to have gotten to him, and though you were expecting the awkwardness that would stem from it, you didn’t expect Beomgyu to be upset; your mind races to find reasons why, to try and wrap your head around why he would be feeling this way.

“I asked the professor how you were doing in the class, since you never seem to want to tell me,” Beomgyu finally says, breaking the tension and adjusting the materials in his bag to be just the way he likes it; he zips his bag shut in one aggressive swoop, and you can’t help the surprise on your face when he sends you a harsh glare.

“He says you’ve been improving greatly; said you were a good student from the very start, that you only needed to catch up on the materials.” he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder, pushing the chair in and taking a step back from your dumbfounded figure, “so it looks to me that you achieved your goal with our sessions.”

A moment passes— and your eyes widen slightly, catching on to what he’s trying to tell you, finding that you really want to deny the professor’s claims, even if they are true. But your pride impedes you from uttering a single word, knowing that it would kill you to try and coax Beomgyu to stay with you, to keep these study sessions going— and through this sudden urge, you catch yourself wondering why you would even want this to continue.

“I’m glad my help seemed to work— but it seems that you don’t even need it anymore,” Beomgyu finalizes what he needed to say, and you can see the way his shoulders practically sag from the relief of getting his thoughts across; his hand goes to tug his oversized sweater down, completely covering his lap and the mess you left— he grimaces softly.

“What? So that’s it?” is all you can say, watching his face harden at your words, “Just like that? What about me?”

His face twists up in anger— your words have struck a nerve, and suddenly, he’s remembering why no one wanted to tutor you in the first place.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine,” is all he says, taking another step back and increasing the distance between you two, “anyone would be willing to tutor you with the rate you like to offer.”

You both know what he really wants to say— just use your money on someone else to get what you want, like you always do. You find that you can’t really say anything to that. You remain silent.

Beomgyu turns around, and leaves; he doesn’t bother to say goodbye, and you’re left to watch his retreating figure, the hastiness of his pace and the way he continuously tugs his oversized sweater down over and over, even if it doesn’t move an inch.

That’s it, you tell yourself, leaning back against your chair, staring down at the display before you, at the notes you were actually taking, the work you were finally doing, you finally got what you wanted.

After a moment, the seat next to you is feeling a lot emptier than it did seconds ago; the room feels endless, as though you were left alone in this lonely labyrinth. Beomgyu’s words echo in your head, and you frown.

Is this what you wanted?

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Beomgyu has kept his promise well; you haven’t seen him in weeks.

Not around campus, not around the dining halls, not even in the library, a place you’ve found yourself actually attending regularly— not even in the only class you shared— and it seems as though he’s vanished off the face of the Earth.

You’ve found yourself thinking about him more often than you’d like; wondering if he’s okay, if he’s off at one of his many jobs again, if he’s resting— it makes you shiver with disgust every time you catch yourself, grimacing at the idea that you would even find yourself worried about him— and while you tell yourself that you’ve finally gotten rid of one of your biggest burdens, you can still feel the nagging feeling to talk to him every time you see his contact in your phone.

“Did you finally get him off your trail?” Yunjin asks you one day, when you’re busy checking the due dates for this week’s assignments online, making a mental schedule of what to work on first as you leave your food untouched; her words are snapping you out of your trance, looking up at her with a gaze that screams I wasn’t listening, what?

“Your little plaything— the loser guy?” she drawls, watching your face carefully, taking your small reaction as a sign that you’ve caught on, “did you finally shake him off?”

“I— yeah, I did,” you say apathetically, letting out a soft tsk as you’re looking back at your laptop, “finally.”

“Wow, look at you,” Yunjin awes, seeing the way your brows furrowed in concentration and you have yet to eat, too immersed in your course load to roll your eyes at her clear, mocking tone, “looks like he really did a number on you— I didn’t know you used your laptop for anything other than shopping.”

“Yunjin, come on,” you sigh, jaw clenching as you suddenly don’t find yourself in the mood for her teasing, “I mean, I know I’ve been slacking really bad recently, but you know that’s not true.”

She doesn’t seem to take you seriously— then again, no one ever really does, a constant in your life that makes you jaw tick and your eyes mentally roll— and she laughs, shaking her head and pouting as though you were a thing to be pitied. You wonder how much of this is supposed to be friendly teasing.

“Yeah sure,” she sighs, leaning her chin on the palm of her hand and leaning over to look at your screen, “Don’t work too hard though, it might hurt your brain.”

You ignore her comment; Yunjin doesn’t seem to care about your silence, doesn’t bother to gauge your reaction as she continues to poke at yet another of her salads, pushing the contents around with her fork in boredom as she speaks up again.

“You know, hopefully he has the same effect on me.”

This gets your attention immediately. Yunjin is looking at you with surprised eyes that feign innocence, raising a confused brow at your narrowed eyes.

“What do you mean by that,” you ask slowly, attempting to keep your tone indifferent as you speak.

Yunjin shrugs, as though what she was about to tell you next wasn’t of any importance— and it really shouldn’t be, but you still can’t ignore the way it makes your body feel like you’ve been shocked with a wave of electricity.

“I mean, your little tutor seemed to be such a good influence so…” she stabs at her salad lazily, bringing up the fork to her lips before she’s sending you a small smile. “I thought I’d give him a try.”

You bristle quite visibly at that; your mind is running a million miles an hour, wondering where this sudden idea is coming from, being friends with Yunjin for longer than you can remember as your mouth begins to run before you can stop it.

“You said your parents have tried to set you up with multiple tutors— the best in the country,” you say, brows knitted together as Yunjin simply shrugs her shoulders, raising her brows as if to say and? “You said you’d rather die than to get tutored— you said it was a waste of time.”

“Yeah… but…” Yunjin shrugs again, and you wonder how much of this is just an impulse from her as she continues, “I don’t know, my parents are on my ass again about giving me a tutor, and I don’t wanna deal with all those stuck up pricks they send to me.”

She admits her true motives with her next words.

“And I don’t know… he’s kinda cute?” she says, laughing like a schoolgirl who was embarrassed to admit a crush, “In like, a pathetic kinda way— and now that he’s done tutoring you, I’m sure he has a slot that opened up.”

Your mind is spiraling with things to say to her; you want to tell her to stay away from Beomgyu, to not try to mess with him— tell her that he’s a loser that isn’t worth her time, a nerd with an obsession with a lame game and the owner of a creepy bird— but you catch yourself, biting your tongue and taking in the way Yunjin simply looks at you expectantly; as though waiting for your embarrassing outburst, you realize.

With a scoff, you’re slamming your laptop shut— Yunjin flinches in surprise.

“I’m sure one did— I’m leaving,” is all you say, knowing that nothing would change, even if you tried anything. Yunjin scrambles to try to get you to stay, but all attempts fall short— you tell her there’s an exam you need to study for, and she sighs in defeat.

“You’re coming to the party this Saturday, at least?” she says, clearly annoyed at your sudden sensitivity, at your sudden change in attitude, “you promised you would.”

Your mind is attempting to remember what she could be talking about— then you’re finally remembering the event she spontaneously planned a few weeks back, telling you that she hasn’t seen everyone together in one place in so long— and while you found yourself agreeing excitedly back then, you don’t have much energy to do so now. But Yunjin is staring at you expectantly, raising a brow at your silence, and you find that there’s really not much of a choice for you. (There is, but you know there’d be consequences if you chose wrong.)

“Yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Perfect!” she beams, eyes crinkling and her hands clasping together happily, as though there was no previous tension between you at all mere moments before, “I’ll see you then.”

You merely nod, turning around and taking your food to the nearest trash can— you weren’t really hungry, anyway.

You can feel Yunjin’s eyes pinpointed on you the whole way out.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You’ve always loved parties.

You loved to dress up, make yourself look pretty and catch the eyes of everyone with your pretty dresses and makeup done to perfection; loved the attention that came with it, the way you could let loose for once and not worry about your image, drinking and feeling your body become loose, mind finally being allowed to forget about any worries you had.

You were known to be a social butterfly; the pretty airhead that couldn’t stop talking once you got her started— always the life of the party, never one to cling to the wall and stare at the dance floor wistfully.

Standing before the beach house of Yunjin’s parents, one they didn’t use as much as they once did when Yunjin was only a little girl with an affinity to the sea, you begin to wonder where that part of you has gone.

You feel dreadfully out of place. You haven’t even gone inside yet.

Music is blasting and the windows are dark, save for the bright neon lights that come from an unknown source; Yunjin has always been a sucker for that club vibe, anyway. You want to go in, want to walk inside and pretend like it’s nothing, but this time, you can only stand at the bottom of the steps and tug your dress down a little more. You feel like a prude.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself— one in, one out, your chest rising and falling slowly as you try calm your racing pulse— and with a silent okay of reassurance to yourself, you will your body to begin its trek up the steps.

The door is unlocked; it’s not like you needed to knock to get in, anyway— only those with an invite even knew this party was happening. The place isn’t packed— nor is it meant to be— but it’s a bit crowded at least, filled with familiar faces for the most part; all people you grew up with or around, sons and daughters of influential families that grew to be nothing but partiers and troublemakers. In other words, your usual crowd.

There are some exceptions to these guests, however. People you’ve seen around campus, student athletes with a scholarship and business majors that have already found themselves internships to the companies others in the room are a part of— and it seems that no matter how much everyone here tries to pretend and deny, they can never really separate their personal lives from the responsibilities passed down to them at birth.

Your first instinct is to beeline it to the kitchen; in other words, to the makeshift bar Yunjin always sets up, an impressive display of alcohol and even a hired bartender making drinks left and right— you immediately ask for two jello shots, something Yunjin always made for herself and in extension, you, not in the mood for anything stronger as you opt to get this nervous energy out of you instead; you proceed to get two more a second after, just out of habit.

You should find Yunjin; let her know you’re here, make sure she doesn’t try to scold and bitch at you for promising to go to her party only to end up ditching— you’re sure she’d never believe you unless she saw you with her own eyes.

The kitchen is empty. The makeshift dance floor seems to be empty as well, spending a few minutes scouring the place and shrugging off any passing advances; with a heavy sigh, you decide that you should check upstairs, just in case, ready to make your way up before a rough hand is grabbing at your elbow and tugging you back; the smell of alcohol greets you before Yunjin can.

“You actually came!” Yunjin yells over the music, her face flushed from the alcohol and her balance off as she stumbles slightly; you make a quick move to catch her, eyes drifting down before you’re catching sight of the uncomfortable heels she dons— meeting her gaze once more, she pouts.

“I don’t even know why I wore these,” she groans, running a hand through her auburn hair, watching the way it falls back into place perfectly— she then proceeds to scan over your own outfit, letting out a sound of awe as she smiles, “you look great! Pretty as always.”

She’s muttering something else, but you can’t really hear it over the sound of the music; eventually, you find your eyes drifting away to the dancefloor, wondering if there’s anyone else you could recognize— your eyes lock with a particular, infamous athlete’s, one that you’ve been dying to get with since the beginning of the semester— and you’re suddenly thankful for the buzz the jello shots provided you, Yunjin eventually following your gaze and cheering at the realization of what you were planning.

She’s pushing you forward before you can even think things through; the man with dark hair simply smiles at you, coy eyes beckoning you closer— and with a deep breath, you decide to let go of any worries you had and go back to being your airheaded, carefree self— even if just for a moment.

“Hey,” he says simply, a hand going to rest on your waist; the music is much too loud for you to converse properly, but you don’t really seem to mind as you allow yourself to get lost in the rhythm instead— that, and because your tipsy brain has forgotten his name, and the low lights that obscure his face aren’t exactly helping either.

But it seems as though he was thinking the exact thing; he’s leaning down to ask the exact question you were wondering into your ear, deep voice and pouty lips that brush against the shell of your ear making you shiver— you’re muttering your name into his ear, tilting your head toward him to allow him to do the same.

Yeonjun. Your head seems to clear for the moment.

“Looks like we finally meet,” he grins, still close to your face in order for you to be able to hear him; your face twists up in confusion, and he laughs softly before continuing. “You’re just as pretty as I’ve been told— my friend talks a lot about you. You’re trouble, hmm?”

“Your friend?” is all you can say in response, placing a hand against his chest and leaning in closer, the music muddling his words slightly; his hand continues to hold you steady, and the two of you continue to sway to the rhythm.

“Yeah,” he laughs, staring at your face that’s twisted up in obvious confusion, “My roommate, Beomgyu? I heard he tutored you for a bit.”

His name is enough to clear your head entirely, as though a bucket of ice water has been poured over your body and drenched your figure.

“He— he told you about me?” you ask, mentally slapping yourself for sounding so pathetic, for feeling so curious as you stare at Yeonjun with undeniably hopeful eyes; instead, all you get is another amused laugh from him.

“Are you kidding? You practically traumatized him!” he jokes, though you don’t find yourself laughing along to that, lips twitching and a frown threatening to take over your features, “You’d think he was scared of you from the way he talked about you.”

You don’t respond to that; you’re not sure how you would respond to that anyway, letting out a weak laugh and falling silent as you look over his shoulder and fall back into the beat of the song— but it seems as though Yeonjun is too drunk, and frankly, unaware to take in your reaction, because he’s leaning into your ear and murmuring words that strike the final blow into your heart.

“He’s here, actually— Yunjin and him really seem to be hitting it off. Didn’t think he had it in him”

You chose to bite your tongue, biting back a bitter comment about how he really doesn’t have it in him to woo someone like Yunjin. But Yeonjun is too amused by his own comment to pick up on the sudden sourness of your mood, mouthing the lyrics to whatever’s playing and guiding your hips with a hand, a smile tugging at his lips as he sends you a wink. But you’re too shaken by this sudden news that you no longer feel the need to play along, much less try to hook up with him tonight. Now that you think about it, the once superficially important goal of chasing after the athlete before you had been pushed down the list of your priorities long, long ago.

“‘M gonna get a drink,” you mutter miserably, pushing against Yeonjun’s chest and ignoring the way he immediately begins to complain, untangling yourself from his grip as you leave with one final, half-hearted sorry!

Screw jello-shots, you think to yourself, stumbling back to the kitchen with sore feet, I need something stronger.

Something stronger comes in the form of a mysterious drink you let the bartender make for you; you didn’t exactly keep track of the ingredients he listed off to you, simply nodding instead when he asked if that’s what you wanted— if you think it’s strong enough, you replied with a smile, choosing to ignore the hesitant nod he gave you in return.

The speed at which you downed the drink was enough to have the bartender at your side with a water and a warning look— you ignored it, of course, drinking the water with a slight pout, only bothering to drink half before you were back to the dancefloor; maybe you could distract yourself with Yeonjun for a while, you think.

But any plans to track down the said man come to a glaring halt the moment you’re stepping out the kitchen; your eyes widen, surprised expression mirroring Hueningkai’s as he stands before you— his eyes scan over your figure, running back up and stopping at your hazed eyes and flushed face, the slight sway in your movement helping everything click in his mind; you’re a few drinks away from getting utterly wasted, and it seems as though that’s the path you’re getting ready to take.

“Didn’t think you’d be here,” Hueningkai says, watching your face scrunch in confusion, taking a step forward to hear him better, “Thought you’d be too busy doing another study date to come.”

“Shut up,” you sneer, rolling your eyes and scoffing at the implications of his words, “And why do you care? I’m surprised you’re not fucking a random girl in Yunjin’s bathroom right now.”

“I tried,” Hueningkai rolls his eyes, smiling in that obnoxiously smug way as he watches you frown. He leans in, placing a hand on the doorway and above your head as he reaches out to grab your waist; tugging you close to him, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he mumbles quietly, “but she wasn’t anywhere as good as you.”

“You’re gross,” you glare, leaning back as you let your lips upturn in disgust, already knowing what he’s implying— asking of you— with a simple look at his face. “Leave me alone, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Are you still mad?” Hueningkai asks, beginning his chase even after you’ve successfully escaped his clutches, ignoring him with a roll of your eyes as you cross your arms and make your way out to the living room, “you never even told me what was wrong, you just ran away and kept bitching at me.”

You huff; it doesn’t seem like Hueningkai will give up anytime soon, so you’re whirling around and sending him a pointed glare as you finally give him the closure he so desperately keeps asking for.

“I did tell you what was wrong,” you start, clenching your jaw at the way he immediately opens his mouth to refute that, “you treat me like nothing more than a fuck buddy, acting as though we weren’t actually friends before that! All you do is make me feel worthless, then you have the audacity to turn around and play the victim?! Like seriously, Hueningkai, is this all you see me as? A body to fuck?”

Hueningkai began asking you to keep it down the moment you felt yourself get riled up; volume rising, face heating up, you ignored him, ignored the odd looks you got from others, deciding that since the man before you wanted to hear your thoughts so badly, you’d let it all out.

“We used to be friends. We grew up together!” you say, feeling ridiculous for continuing to grieve the past, the days where things weren’t so complicated and all you felt for Hueningkai was a harmless crush. “I can’t believe I let you use me like this, just because I thought I liked— god, I’m so stupid.”

You don’t give him a chance to retaliate; you’re turning around and ready to weave your way through the faceless people and go outside, only making it halfway before Hueningkai is grabbing at your elbow and asking you to wait. His persistence garners yet another roll of your eyes.

“You what? Hang on, what was that last part?” he asks, trailing behind you and desperately asking for an answer— because of course he would hone in on that part. You continue to ignore him, tugging your arm out his hold and beginning to push through the crowd at the dancefloor— seriously, how many people did Yunjin invite? You seem to have severely underestimated the capacity of this place.

“You— did you like me? Do you like me?” Hueningkai’s last attempts to get something, anything from you are childish and do nothing but make your stomach churn, “Come on, we can talk this out, be mature about it— I can fix things, I can make it up to, yeah? Hey, don’t bail on me now—”

“Enough!” you yell, getting yet another round of side glances and strange looks from others; listening in like always, pretending horribly to be ignorant to it all.

You’re right before the doorway; so close, yet you know that if you leave now, Hueningkai will continue to follow and pester you— so as horrible as the timing is, you realize with a heavy feeling that now is your chance to do what you’ve been debating on for so long.

“Please, I don’t want to do this anymore,” you say, your words weak as you look right into his eyes— and everything surfaces into your mind once more, the innocent hope you once had of stealing his heart one day, “Let’s just end this— everything.”

The words feel familiar on your tongue, only this time, you realize that this is the person you should’ve directed this message to in the first place.

“We don’t know each other,” you say, jaw clenched at the way it takes Hueningkai a second to process things due to the music that tries to drown you out— you still catch onto the exact moment where it all registers in his head, eyes widening and mouth opening to protest— but you beat him to it, not giving him another opportunity to try and haphazardly fix thing, albeit momentarily. Your eyes meet his, and your heart wrenches upon seeing that he’s more annoyed than hurt.

“Don’t talk to me— we’re strangers now.”

The final blow is like a weight that is immediately taken off your shoulders; you reach to open the door and slip out. This time, Hueningkai doesn’t follow.

The air is cool on your face and a nice contrast to the stuffy air inside the house. Slowly, you make your way to the corner of the porch fence, stumbling over due to the soreness of your feet and the alcohol that still runs through your system. So many emotions course through you, seemingly wanting to bring about a wave of nostalgia and sadness, lingering feelings for the man you’ve just let behind— but you won’t allow yourself to cry over him, scoffing instead at the way you allowed yourself to foolishly bend over backwards for him for so long.

“Wow,” you hear a voice say, not bothering to look back as you immediately recognize who it is; Yunjin joins you, leaning against the fence and craning her head forward to properly survey you— you don’t bother looking at her, even more so when she finally continues,“That was harsh back there.”

You sigh. Because of course Yunjin heard that, and of course she’s the one to bring it up immediately after.

“Didn’t think you’d actually cut him off— I thought you’d always be like, head over heels, hopelessly in love with him— like a little girl, you know? You never seemed to grow out of him.” You glare at her, but continue to remain silent; she laughs, throwing her head back at the sight, only to wobble back slightly from the sudden motion.

“Oh come onnnnn, you know it’s true!” she coos, proceeding to poke at you teasingly and twist her voice to sound like you, “Huening called me pretty. Huening bought me the purse I really wanted. Huening wants me to go with him to dinner with his parents. Huening Huening Huening—!”

Her laugh is obnoxious, even after you’ve hissed at her to be quiet; she continues to mock you under her breath, drunkenly quoting things she overheard from your outburst, and you realize with a disappointed sigh that she definitely won’t be stopping soon.

“Heyyy, don’t get all sensitive on me now!” she whines, grabbing your hand and tugging you back when you attempt to leave; it doesn’t work, and you merely tug yourself out her grip, not even bothering to respond to her cries to stay.

Yunjin pauses her dramatics the moment you’re turning and leaving, scoffing at the way she offhandedly apologizes, words slurring together as she says that she’s sorry if you feel offended! You’re shaking your head at that, making your way back to where the stairs are, glancing back at the home one last time— and you’re freezing for a second when you meet Beomgyu’s gaze, the boy wide eyed and awkward as he stands at the doorway. Behind you, Yunjin cheers drunkenly.

“Beomie! Hey, could you tell her to stop being so dramatic? Like come on, I’m just trying to have fun,” Yunjin’s rambles are left unacknowledged by you both, and you finally find strength within you to walk away after a second; it’s not like you and Beomgyu had anything to talk about, anyway.

Behind you, Yunjin calls for Beomgyu to go to her and give her attention; her pleas fade from your ears and you’ve finally made it onto the beach, pulling out your phone and fumbling through your contacts before you’re finally ordering an Uber to pick you up instead— it was too late in the night for you to bother your driver.

The closest driver will be here in fifteen minutes; you’ll spend those fifteen minutes sitting before the ocean, clothes riddled with sand and body still sobering up slowly, your shoes placed to the side as you dip your legs into the water— fifteen minutes of silence, allowing you to ponder if these people are really the ones you’ve chosen to affiliate with for half your life.

You’ve become so entranced with the white noise of the waves that you couldn’t pick up on the approaching footsteps of another; it isn’t until the said person is sitting at your side that you’re finally snapping out of your trance.

Beomgyu settles down beside you without a word. You watch him for a second, taking in his appearance— he must’ve been dragged here, if anything, his attire not straying from the usual sweaters and jeans— and you look away, staring back out into the horizon as silence continues to drag down between the two of you.

“You’re not sensitive,” Beomgyu suddenly says, his voice so quiet and hesitant you almost missed it, “Or dramatic.”

You laugh humorlessly.

“I know.”

“You deserve to feel wanted,” Beomgyu adds, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, taking in your troubled expression and distant gaze, “...And, your friends are all assholes.”

“...I know.”

It’s quiet. You’re staring down at your feet, at the waves that slowly make their way up your shins before they retreat. Tonight made everything clearer than ever— why did you ever bother to associate with those people? Family and social status was the answer, but as you sit on the beach and away from the rowdy, ruthless crowd, you realize that you feel much more comfortable where you are.

“No one ever takes me seriously,” you say suddenly, staring at the ground and tracing shapes into the sand, “I mean, I never really gave them reason to; it was all just fun and games at first— since I was a girl, I mean. Everyone thought that because I was so obsessed with superficial things that I just didn’t have anything going on in my head, and I guess that was enough to let me become a joke to everyone. A pretty airhead who just thinks about makeup and clothes and purses.”

“I mean, I worked hard to get to where I’m at, y’know? There’s more to me than just that. I won’t deny that my parents and their wealth helped get me a lot, and I certainly won’t deny that I seriously slacked this semester, but I— I don’t know, I just wish people wouldn’t take the shit I say and do like an absolute cosmic joke sometimes; that everyone I know and surrounded myself with wasn’t so superficial and fake.”

Your mouth just began running without you realizing it, forcing you to spill everything that’s been weighing on your mind; you don’t even bother stopping yourself, refusing to glance at the boy beside you as you continue.

“And you wanna know what the worst part is? For a while, I started to believe what they thought of me, started to play into it if it meant them… liking me more. Ugh, that sounds so pathetic, seriously. I need to get it together.” You roll your eyes, tossing your head back as you scold yourself midway through your rambling, “I thought that if I acted all cute and stupid, if I just molded myself into what they liked, they… he would choose me. Would decide to keep me around for more than just a fuck. Would reciprocate years and years of pining and pretending to be cool with him fucking around with other people— all while he got all sulky if I even mentioned other guys.”

Silence. You go quiet for a moment, hand stilling for a moment, brows knitting together as you stare at the mess you’ve made in the sand; Beomgyu opens his mouth to say something, but is swiftly cut off by the sight of you sitting up straight abruptly.

“But I’m worth more than that, y’know? I deserve to have someone take it slow with me, to like me for who I am, to really take me seriously. Even if I act ridiculous sometimes.” You sigh, your lips twitching in a soft smile as you finally look up from the mess in the sand and at Beomgyu; his eyes meet yours, doe-like and wide as always. You laugh at his expression, and his face heats up at the sight.

“God, I’ve been really insufferable, huh?” you laugh, looking away from him the moment you felt your heart beating a bit faster, “I just never shut up, I’ve been told it’s really annoying— I didn’t mean to dump that all on you like that.”

“It’s alright,” Beomgyu says hastily, biting at his lip and averting your gaze as he continues, “I like listening to you talk.”

Your eyes widen and his words echo through your mind, bouncing off the walls and repeating the message over and over. I like listening to you talk.

Your mind seems to have entirely blanked out at that; how do you even respond? All you know is that your body seems to heat up entirely after a second, shivers running through your spine as you attempt miserably to find something to say, something that’ll probably shatter the mood entirely— but you can’t, and you’re stuck in a silence that grows tense as minutes pass.

The ding of a notification sounds from your phone; the two of you are looking down at the screen that lights up, and you immediately scramble to leave the moment you read that your car is here.

“I— I have to go,” you say lamely, wincing at your accidental stutter; you don’t give Beomgyu a chance to say anything more, wiping the sand off your clothes and giving him a half-hearted wave goodbye. “See ya.”

If anyone accused you of running away like a coward, you wouldn’t even bother to deny such claims— because it’s true, and you all but sprint away in order to get out of Beomgyu’s sight, eyes frantically sweeping over the street until you finally spot your Uber, sending a small wave and getting inside quickly.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say sheepishly, glancing down at your shoes that tracked in remnants of sand; slowly, the car begins to move, and you’re staring out the window and watching Yunjin’s beach house pass by— in the very distance, your eyes catch onto Beomgyu, who remains sitting still by the shore.

Your mind echoes his words to you, and you’re failing miserably to push down the way your stomach seems to be filled with a flurry of butterflies, the way your face heats up and a smile threatens to break through your face.

Fuck, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you’ve only felt something this intense one other instance, many years ago.

Fuck.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

It’s been a few weeks since Yunjin’s party; a few weeks since you stopped talking to her, a few weeks since you dropped all your snobby friends you only made for connections, a few weeks since you finally broke things off with Hueningkai.

A few weeks since you realized that you might see Beomgyu as more than just a nerdy, pathetic loser.

You’ve found that you have a lot more free time these days; now that you’re no longer worried about attending worthless cocktail parties or going golfing to help Yunjin impress a CEO’s son who she’s had her eye on for days, you’ve found that your life has become a lot more peaceful— or rather, boring.

Your social life is nonexistent; what else did you expect, after cutting off practically everyone you knew? You’ve become a homebody, much more focused on your work and finding more mundane hobbies— your grades have never looked better.

Avoiding Yunjin and anyone associated with her was simple; it was nothing, passing by her and pretending like you two never knew each other, like the two of you weren’t once attached by the hip. It never phased you to be in the same room as her, not even batting an eye when she found herself sitting a table away from you in the dining halls.

You just wish you could say the same about Beomgyu.

God, what the hell has gotten into you? You’ve become a fumbling, ridiculous mess, not even able to look him in the eye when you spot him in the halls, in the library, in cafes; your body heats up and words get stuck in your throat whenever he’s so much as close in proximity, always finding a way to flee as soon as possible— you don’t even bother being inconspicuous anymore.

It was apparent to anyone who knew you that this behavior was a complete switch from your usual self— cocky, flirty, bold— and Beomgyu, who had to spend hours on end with you, knew that better than anyone.

He’s able to spot your odd behavior immediately. Though unfortunately for him, he’s unable to come to a proper conclusion as to why you may be acting like that, and simply decides that you must be holding up your promise still; the promise to act like complete strangers, that is.

Beomgyu frowns, staring at your back as you stand in line at the cafe across the campus library; you’re rigid, as though turning around and acknowledging the man behind you could kill you. Did you really hate him that much? He thought he made progress back at Yunjin’s party, your moment of vulnerability allowing him to see you in a completely new light— because after a moment of thought, after you fled the scene with an awkward wave and an empty smile, Beomgyu began to think; he really didn’t know anything about you. He didn’t even know your major.

All he knew about you were superficial things— and Beomgyu found himself oddly irritated by the thought, wondering if he was any better than the very people you were complaining about; it weighed his mind, finding himself prattling off to Yeonjun about it one day, laying on the couch and petting Toto absentmindedly as he stared up at the ceiling.

“She’s an architecture major,” Yeonjun said from the kitchen, looking up from the stove and meeting Beomgyu’s surprised gaze, “Yunjin told me once that she’s been working to try and get an internship at her father’s company— starting from the bottom up and everything. Heard it’s super competitive over there.”

You were a lot more hardworking and studious than Beomgyu— or anyone, really— gave you credit for. And as he watched you recite your order to the cashier, something so convoluted that the boy wondered if it was even good, he found himself wanting to learn more about you. You stood off to the side, staring down at your phone with a concentrated pout, and he wondered if he should bite the bullet and finally attempt talking to you.

Just as Beomgyu was mustering up the courage to say something, just as he was about to open his mouth, your name was called and you picked up your drink with a swiftness he’s never seen before, making your way out and passing Beomgyu in the blink of an eye. He’s left waiting for his drink long after, snapped out of his reverie by a text notification.

Huh Yunjin:

im at the library rn r u coming ??

dont keep me waiting :(

Beomgyu sighs, and trudges his way to the library with a pout; the feeling is reminiscent, but he can’t help but find himself thinking that it was you he was studying with instead. He spots Yunjin’s bright head of orange hair instantly, eyes glued to her phone and brows knitted together in a soft frown— and though Beomgyu apologized for being late and asked her to start without him, she didn’t seem to bother to even get her materials out.

Internally, Beomgyu finds himself rolling his eyes— But he’s masking that with a soft clear of his throat, his calm voice asking Yunjin to get her textbook out so they can start their session— and she finally looks up from her phone, bright eyes filled with confusion before she smiles sheepishly.

“Oh right, the textbooks,” she murmurs, looking over at the seat next to her where she’s placed her bag, then across where Beomgyu sits; his eyes widen at the sight of her collecting her things, standing up and rounding the table before she sits next to him— before he can question what he’s doing, she scoots her chair closer to him, shoulders touching as she sends him an innocent smile. “I… forgot mine… you don’t mind if we share, right? You said you took this class last semester.”

Beomgyu can’t contain the way he lets out an exasperated breath; he pulls out his laptop, pulling up his digital copy as he mentally complains about how unprepared and demanding Yunjin always seemed to be— he can’t remember the last time she actually brought her own supplies; if anything, Beomgyu was sure she hadn’t even bought her required texts.

And as he scrolls through the index in search of the needed chapter, he feels Yunjin leaning in closer; all under the guise of seeing the screen better, but Beomgyu knows better than to believe that her intentions are all innocent. And despite Beomgyu’s multiple attempts to scoot away from her, he quickly finds himself trapped by the girl again, frowning at the way she laughs at everything little thing he says and tugs at his sleeve when she’s confused about something.

For a moment, Beomgyu wonders if she might actually be hitting on him— but he soon catches onto the way she peeks over his screen after each attempt to be touchy, how she glances in the same direction after every soft coo of that same nickname that makes him wince— and he follows the path of her gaze eventually, not entirely surprised at what he sees; if anything, it helps everything click together.

Beomgyu spots you sitting two tables away, face twisted up in concentration and headphones obstructing your ears, head bobbing rhythmically as you scribble things on your notebook, glancing back at your laptop’s screen ever so often; he catches sight of numbers and equations, and he realizes that you must be working on math homework.

Without realizing, he’s found himself staring at you; this side of you that he never saw much, private and calm and hardworking, the image you said you wished others saw in you— and, as though you could feel it, you’re looking up from your work, meeting Beomgyu’s eyes instantly and watching as he flusters and looks away; your eyes then fall onto the girl who has him backed into the corner of the table, who leans into him and glances over you with a slight quirk of her lips— she sends you a small wave, then turns back to Beomgyu, calling out his name softly.

Undeniably curious, you lower the volume of your music slightly— you didn’t expect Yunjin to actually go through with her plans of getting Beomgyu to tutor her, and much less her lasting this long— you’re bringing up a hand to your head as subtly as you can, moving the right side of your headphone away from your ear slightly and allowing yourself to listen in to whatever it is they talk about.

While Beomgyu attempts multiple times to tutor her and teach her materials, Yunjin can’t seem to stop steering away in a completely different direction; asking him entirely unrelated questions, blatantly flirting and acting coy as she pulls at his sweater everytime he seems hesitant to answer— the sight is slightly amusing, but you can’t deny the way it makes you wince with annoyance.

“Today’s your day off, right?” Yunjin asks eventually, smiling widely when he nods, albeit hesitantly, “Great! You know how you said you’d take me to dinner if I got a good score on my test?”

You hear the sound of Yunjin’s nails clicking against a screen; undoubtedly searching for something, the soft mutters of Beomgyu’s you were the one who struck up the deal, making you bite your tongue in a desperate attempt to remain inconspicuous; from the corner of your eye, you’re able to catch the way the said boy glances over at you.

“Well… ta-da!” Yunjin squeals happily as she shoves the phone into Beomgyu’s face, allowing him to see her results for the said test. Beomgyu hums absentmindedly at the sight.

“Your place at seven?” Yunjin grins, poking his shoulder teasingly; Beomgyu doesn’t answer, but she chooses to take that silence as a yes. “Great! I have to go actually; promised my girls I’d have brunch with them— you understand, right?”

Instead of fumbling with his words and asking her to not leave so abruptly, Beomgyu simply nods and hums a soft uh-huh. The sight is enough to have Yunjin scoffing, slinging her purse on her shoulder and reaching over to grab Beomgyu’s chin— she tugs it and makes him face her, the action so sudden that his eyes widen drastically— and she smiles, squishing his cheeks teasingly and pouting at his distant behavior.

“Don’t get all pouty with me— I’ll see you soon ‘kay?” before Beomgyu can even process anything, Yunjin leans down to press a kiss to his cheek, feeling her lipstick transfer onto his skin— he’s slightly dazed, reaching up immediately to place a hand over the spot, staring at Yunjin with furrowed brows; she simply laughs and waves at him one final time, practically skipping out from how giddy she seemed.

From a distance, you watch Beomgyu quietly reach for his bag, his expression blank as he pulls out a tissue and his phone; you watch him use his front camera as a mirror, wiping at the lipstick with a soft frown.

From a distance, you laugh to yourself— the distaste that appears on his face is obvious to you, and you can’t help but shake your head at Yunjin’s ridiculous behavior; god, was that what you looked like whenever you would bail on him mid-session? The very thought was terribly humbling to you.

Yunjin’s attempts to get back at you by using Beomgyu were more than obvious; you think back to her actions, the way she blatantly flirted with him, the plans she suddenly tacked on him— on his day off, not to mention— and you roll your eyes, deciding that you might as well put an end to all these dramatics; not just for your sake, but for Beomgyu’s as well.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Beomgyu is groaning to himself the moment he hears a sharp knock on his door— the last thing he wanted to do on his day off was spend his time entertaining a girl who was clearly using him for some odd, petty reasons— but he got ready nonetheless, texted Yunjin his address hours prior after being told that her driver would come pick him up, (he hadn’t gotten a response in relation to that message, but she’ll probably see it soon) and waited patiently on the couch, albeit much earlier than the proposed plans.

Another sharp knock— Beomgyu wishes he had some proper excuse for her, told her that he already had plans with his roommate, but the said man was off on his shift already— he trudges over to the door, twisting the doorknob with a heavy reluctance, and sighs. He braces himself as he swings open the door to greet Yunjin with a halfhearted smile.

“Hey,” you pant instead, leaning against the doorway and ignoring his confused— and shocked— expression, “I— am I late? I thought I was early, did you get ready early?”

You gulp; since when could Beomgyu clean up so nicely? He’s forgone his usual, comfortable and casual outfits in favor of a perfectly pressed button up and a clean hairstyle— Yunjin must’ve planned to take him to quite the expensive place, you think to yourself.

“Of course you’d be the type to get ready an hour early,” you mutter bitterly to yourself, the comment enough to have the said man glancing at the nearest clock in confusion— and just like you said, a bright six o’clock greeted him on the digital clock.

“You— what’re you doing here?” Beomgyu stutters pathetically, unable to do much but relent to the way you step inside, closing the door behind him and turning around to face you, “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Yeah well, I lied.” you simply say, the words confusing the poor man even more, “I came to tell you to cancel your plans with Yunjin.”

“Can— huh?” he searches your expression for the traces of a joke, but finds that you’re dead serious. “Why would I cancel? That’s rude.”

“Jesus, can’t you see?!” You say exasperatedly, reaching out to place your hands on Beomgyu’s shoulders, fingers digging in so he can look at you— it’s only when he finally does that you continue. “She doesn’t want to do this— she’s using you. She’s doing this to get back at me.”

“But why would she…” Beomgyu utters, and you wonder with a roll of your eyes where that boy genius of yours went.

“Beomgyu,” you start, the sound foreign to the said boys ears as he blinks at you owlishly. You bite at your lip, brows furrowing at you think over what to say— you start again, but your words are hesitant and muddled. “She’s using you because she’s petty and because… because…”

He gives you a look encouraging you to continue.

“Because— god, are you really gonna make me say this?!” you break, letting go of his shoulders and taking a step back— your face feels like it’s on fire and your stomach feels like it’s been twisted into knots, your hands clammy as you glance over at Beomgyu again— and he looks at you with the most stupid, oblivious expression known to mankind.

You take a quick, deep breath, and you start again.

“Choi Beomgyu. She’s using you because I…” you say sternly, reaching over suddenly to grab his face, cupping his cheeks and taking in the way he becomes red at your touch. You bring him close to you, pressing your lips in a fine line and hesitating before you observe his face— and god, he looks so pathetic and lost that you don’t even seem to mind the way the next words tumble out of you, fluid and clear and true.

“Because I like you.”

Silence. You’re waiting anxiously in response, looking into Beomgyu’s eyes in anticipation, but all he does is stare. He stares and stares and stares, and for the first time in a while, you’re unsure of what to make of this reaction.

“And I’m not lying either.”

Still nothing. His skin is warming up under your fingertips, and his mouth opens hesitantly to say something, only to close again— he must still doubt you, so you decide to take a leap of faith and reassure him the only way you know how.

“I think you’re cute and kinda pathetic in an endearing way, I think that those glasses really compliment your face and make your eyes look super doll-like, and I don’t really mind Toto. I think he’s still a bit weird to look at but I love that you love him, and it makes total sense to me that out of all the pets you could’ve had you decided to get a big freaky green bird of all things, and I think it’s super cute that you’re attached to him— I think you look kinda hot when you get frustrated on a problem, and I think it’s really hard to hold myself back from kissing you when you start stuttering at me like an idiot— also, it’s really not that bad that you play League of Legends, and I can’t believe I’m gonna admit this, but I started playing it myself and it’s not that bad— but that’s not the point, what I’m saying is that you’re— you’re a nerd and a loser but I don’t mind because I really— fuck, I really like—”

His lips are mashing onto yours before you can process his sudden movement, rough and sloppy and desperate that all you can do is slide your hands into his hair and pull him closer; his hands wrap around you in response, one on the small of your back and the other against the back of your head as he pulls you closer still, close until your bodies are pressed flush together.

The two of you are so rough with your movements that he’s stumbling back, knocking against the wall and groaning softly at the impact; you’re sneaking your tongue into his parted lips, listening to the way he pants and moans against your mouth, slotting a leg between his and feeling as his thigh is quick to retaliate and press against your core.

“Mghh– ugh, fuck,” you moan mindlessly, feeling his hand press against the small of your back, forcing you to arch and push your weight onto his strong muscle, allowing yourself to rock against it desperately; your mind is running a million miles an hour, pulling away from his lips breathlessly and staring at the gloss that has transferred onto him; his eyes look dazed, lips parted and in need for more as he tries to lead your head back to his.

“Can’t believe she tried to use you against me,” you mutter, going back in to press quick, chaste kisses all along his face; he curls in shyly at the gesture, weakly grasping at your clothes as he feels the way you begin to trail them along his jaw, sucking and biting until you’re seeing the beginnings of marks that will bloom there, “shame it didn’t work— cause you’re all mine, right gyu?”

Like clockwork, he nods; his face heats up and he feels a bit ashamed at how quickly he’s melted under your hold, but any embarrassment is washed away the moment he feels your hand begin to fumble with his belt, clumsily undoing it before you’re moving to undo his jeans.

“Wait,” you breathe against his neck, feeling him shiver softly; he’s confused, whining softly at the sudden loss of touch until he’s watching as you pull away, glancing behind your shoulder before you’re meeting his eyes with a blank expression, “take me to your room.”

For a second, he’s confused about the sudden switch of your behavior— but then he’s looking over your shoulder and right at the direction you glanced at, a sudden laugh breaking through him when he spots Toto in the corner; sheepishly, he nods.

“Okay,” he says, smiling shyly at the way you reach out for the hand placed on the small of your back, intertwining your fingers so naturally it’s almost instinct, “yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

He watches you kick off your shoes and allows you to lead him straight to his room— he’s surprised you even remembered where it is— and smiles at the way you tug him closer by the collar the moment you step inside, palms pressing flat on his chest and making him walk backwards until his knees are hitting the edge of the bed— he falls back, hair splaying prettily on his sheets as he looks up at you with expectant, adoring eyes.

You’re straddling him immediately after; planting your core directly on his prominent bulge, taking in the way he lets out a broken whimper at the feeling of your heat pressing against him so well— his hands fly to your waist, fingers weakly digging into the meat of your hips as he attempts to subtly buck up into you; you tsk, shaking your head and leaning down to place a hand firm on his chest.

“Bad pup,” you say softly, hovering above his lips and watching as he desperately chases them, “You need to be patient, okay?”

He nods frantically, eyes fluttering shut the moment you press your lips against him slowly, feeling the way he desperately seeks to taste you— you allow him to, wandering hands beginning to unbutton his pristine white shirt slowly as he remains distracted.

Beomgyu is a lot more fit than you expected; lean muscle greeting you the moment you slip his shirt off his shoulders, leaning up to let him take it off and raking your nails down his skin— his stomach flinches at your nails scratch at it, and you smile childishly at the sight, the action reminiscent to the first time you got your hands on him.

“So pretty…” you mumble to yourself, tracing a path along his chest, down to his navel, watching as he shivers at your touch; a shaky gasp escapes his lips, hands grabbing at his sheets and eyes fluttering shut as he fights back the urge to buck up into you again— your eyes flicker up to study his expression, titling your head curiously as a smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re so pretty, Beomgyu,” you say again, leaning down to plant soft kisses along his neck, beginning to trail down until you’re at his chest— you’re able to watch the way his skin flushes a soft pink at your words, shy gaze averting quickly the moment you’re looking back up at him— and you laugh softly to yourself, hovering over his lap and trailing a hand down as you begin to undo his pants with ease.

“Y’know, I’ve never seen you so dressed up before,” you comment offhandedly, taking a moment to observe his pristine clothes, his styled hair— and your jaw clenches at the thought of Yunjin seeing him like this, an inkling of jealousy beginning to rear its ugly head the longer you think about it; you’re tugging at his pants, watching as his hips lift to help you tug them down more, and scoff at your wandering thoughts.

“Bet you would’ve loved to have her attention on you, hmm?” you say, beginning to roll your hips against his the moment he opens his mouth to protest— a sharp moan leaves Beomgyu instead, mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt grinding against his, the only thing separating the two of you being your thin panties and his boxers that are quickly becoming ruined; his eyes flicker down to where you continue to roll your hips, the sight of your skirt riding up and bunching up at your thighs enough to have his cock twitch.

“Just can’t control yourself when you’re with a cute girl— just can’t say no,” Beomgyu’s hips jump and he lets out a long whine at a particularly harsh roll of your hips, feeling his cock slot perfectly against your cunt, the material of your panties soaked and sticking to your pussy, able to feel you better the more pressure you add; his hands fly to your hips once more, but instead of trying to guide your pace, they simply remain there, grabbing at your skirt and fisting the material in his hands, flushed face and shining eyes begging silently for more.

“No— can’t, can’t say no— ah!” Beomgyu begins, unable to speak properly with the sight of you on top of him and the feeling of your warm cunt on his aching cock, “can’t say no to you… fuck…”

His words are enough to catch you off guard; your pace is stuttering and your eyes are widening, the brief pause enough to give Beomgyu enough confidence to continue— his eyes are glassy as he stares up at you, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles on your hips as he speaks.

“Could never say no to you…” he says softly, face reddening as he continues, “you’re too pretty to say no to.”

He doesn’t quite meet your gaze after that; he’s too shy to, but with the way you immediately begin to undress before him after a moment, he’s sure that he must’ve flipped a switch inside you.

“God, you’re so cute…” you mutter, throwing your shirt off in a random direction before you’re sliding your skirt off— and Beomgyu is growing flustered at the sight again, practically malfunctioning from seeing your body for the first time.

You’re left in only your underwear when you finally decide you’ve had enough of his shyness, grabbing his face with a firm hand and turning it to look back at you; your nails dig into his plush cheeks and his eyes grow wide at the gesture, meeting your eyes as you simply give him a coy smile and a peck to his lips.

“So pathetic too,” you continue, watching his adam’s apple bob at your condescending words, “I love it.”

You lean close to his ear; slowly, you take his hands and begin guiding them along your body, feeling the way his breath hitches and his chest begins to take shallow breaths, shaky fingertips grazing against your skin, up your biceps until you’re leading him to your back, straight to your bra strap.

“Undo it,” you murmur against the shell of his ear, able to listen to the way he gulps softly; nervous hands fiddle with the clasp, the way you place chaste kisses to the spot behind his ear not helping in the slightest— and after a moment, you’re finally able to feel the garment loosening around you, along with a soft sigh the boy lets out.

The straps slip off your shoulders slowly, and with a coy smile, you make a show of discarding your bra, sitting back and watching as Beomgyu’s face turns impossibly red; his eyes are wide and his hands are frozen, unsure of what to do as you simply huff at the sight— and your hands are taking his once more, guiding them slowly until he’s cupping your breasts; he gulps again, and you pout at the sight.

“Don’t you wanna touch me?” you pout, tilting your head and watching as the man underneath you remains reliant on your instructions to do anything; his eyes snap back up to meet yours at your words, shaking his head softly and opening his mouth to stutter protests.

“I– I do, I do,” he says, licking his lips nervously before looking back down at your breasts, thumbs experimentally swiping across your nipples; you shiver at the feeling, the sight of even your smallest reactions making Beomgyu’s cock ache, “I just… I’m not sure what to do….what you’d like.”

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, absentmindedly guiding his hands to touch and caress your breasts just how you like, your back aching slightly at the stimulation, “I can teach you.”

“Please,” Beomgyu whines out, hands finally beginning to move on their own as a smile grows on your face, watching the way looks at you with needy, fucked out eyes, “Please, wanna make you feel good.”

“Do you now?” you tease, titling your head and raising a brow at him questioningly; he nods his head fervently, eyes filled with an undeniably desire that leads him to take your body in hungrily, trailing from your chest down until he stops right at your cunt thats pressed so perfectly against him.

His line of sight is terribly obvious— though you don’t think it was Beomgyu’s intention to hide his desires anyway, not with the way your back is suddenly colliding against his bed, a gasp escaping you the moment you feel warm hands prying your legs open; you’re propping yourself up with your elbows, wide eyes meeting Beomgyu’s; the said man kneels on the floor and is now at eye level with your soaked cunt— his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, and with a soft laugh, you realize that Beomgyu is yet again waiting for further instructions.

“Can I taste you?” He asks meekly, eyes shining behind the lenses of his glasses, the sight endearing and a complete switch from the words that leave his mouth, “will you let me?”

Silence— all he gets in response is a slow sigh, the boy peeking through his lashes to get a gauge of your expression; he gulps at the sight of your narrowed eyes and pinched brows, mind undoubtedly thinking of scenarios that sour your mood— but the sight of you like this is much too tempting, and Beomgyu will be damned if he doesn’t get to lose himself in your pussy at least once; his cock pathetically twitches at the mere thought.

“I don’t know puppy,” you murmur, sneering at the way he pouts immediately, strong hands tugging at you and pulling you towards him more, body sliding at the movement— and though you can feel him breathe against your clothed cunt, he still refrains from doing anything, waiting loyally for your okay with pleading eyes.

“Do you think you deserve it?” you ask, throwing a leg over his shoulder, digging the heel of your foot in between his shoulder blades roughly— he practically keens at the feeling, a poorly stifled whimper escaping him, followed by a shaky sigh, “after seeing the way you’ll give anyone who approaches you all your attention like a slut, I don’t think you do.”

You make sure to punctuate your words with another dig of your heel, but Beomgyu remains unaffected— if anything, it manages to spur him on more, and you’re left to pretend as though his next actions don’t leave you terribly weak.

“Please…” he whispers, the sound so soft you barely miss it— he’s pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, lips lingering on the skin before he looks back up to meet your gaze; his eyes are glazed with nothing but need. The single word continues to leave him like a mantra, unable to do anything more than watch as he begins to litter kisses all over your inner thighs, soft begs slowly increasing their intensity the longer you deny him.

I deserve it, I do; please, please let me make you feel good, promise you’re the only one for me— please? Please, please please please…

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of Beomgyu’s broken, repetitive begging— his hair brushes against your sensitive skin that has been peppered with endless kisses, and if it weren’t for the way Beomgyu’s eyes were beginning to become watery from his desperation, you would’ve allowed yourself to enjoy the show a little more.

“You want it that much?” you seethe, a hand going down to tangle itself in his long hair— and, just as expected, he lets out a broken whine, followed with an immediate, breathy “yes” that affects you much more than you let on, “Go on then.”

You’re guiding his head to your cunt without another word, fingers still entangled tightly in the roots of his hair; he begins with a soft kiss to your cunt, the sight making you roll your eyes— for someone so eager, he sure was hesitant.

His tongue is hot and heavy against your clit; he’s running the tip of it along your slit, listening to the hitch of your breath and taking in every miniscule reaction you provide— he’s teasing you, albeit unintentionally, and the realization has you tightening your hold on his roots in warning; you feel the way he lets out a shaky breath at the action, and soon after, his fingers are tugging at the waistband of your panties, making slow work to properly take them off.

Beomgyu’s every movement is feather-like and hesitant; it’s clear he’s testing out the waters, unsure of what to do in order to please you— and while a part of you is endeared at the messy kitten licks of his tongue and the way he circles your clit sloppily, the other part of you seems to be feeling much more unforgiving— you’re tugging his hair and telling him to look at you with a harsh voice.

“What happened to wanting to please me? To deserving this?” you mock, lips quirking to a satisfied smile the moment his face heats up, ears tinting a soft red, “are you too much of a virgin to know how to eat a girl out?”

His face turns a bright red and he remains silent— you can only manage a bewildered laugh at the sight.

Of course, how did you not piece it together before? It seems as though you were much too generous to give him the benefit of the doubt before, because as you stare Beomgyu down with a gaze that’s nothing short of predatory, you’ve realized that his silence tells you more than enough; He’s a total virgin.

“Oh, you don’t know anything, do you?” you coo softly, letting go of Beomgyu’s scalp to caress his face softly, a grin threatening to break through your face from the simple sight of the man melting into your touch, “you need me to guide you through it?”

With a shaky sigh, Beomgyu nods— it barely takes a moment before you’re pushing at the back of his head and guiding him back to your cunt.

He didn’t bother to take off his glasses; you didn’t bother to remind him, smiling cruelly as you murmur soft instructions to him, telling him to suck on your clit or guiding his mouth to lick at your entrance, responding with soft sighs of pleasure whenever he does something particularly well; he’s sloppy, inexperienced, and undeniably nervous, but you suppose he makes up for its with his eagerness to do well as he continues, slowly taking note of what makes your hips buck and your fingers tighten against his hair— and after a few minutes, you’re no longer instructing Beomgyu step by step, but instead throwing your head back and letting your mouth fall open with unabashed moans.

Beomgyu’s eagerness is abundant and blatant. He’s pressing his face against your cunt after having gained confidence, mouth sloppy and hanging open as he allows you to grind against him, feeling his glasses slip down the tall bridge of his nose and fog up with every pant of breath— but he finds that he doesn’t really mind, eyes fluttering shut and lips circling around your clit as he hones in to the sounds you make instead.

You think Beomgyu’s head is completely empty at this point; his fingers dig into your thighs and he continues his attempts to bring you closer against his face, greedy mouth drinking up any arousal that slips from your entrance before he’s fucking you with his tongue— your hips buck unintentionally against him at that, and from the way he only increases his efforts even further, you think he might’ve enjoyed that.

“Beomgyu— puppy, fuck,” you hiss, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the way his nose is now pressed against your clit from how close he’s attempting to get to you. Your chest heaves and you can feel a tight knot forming in your stomach, body beginning to become restless as Beomgyu remains unfazed at your sudden squirming— you’re close, so close, and Beomgyu wants nothing more than to feel you fall apart against his face.

“Shit– right there, just like that— don’t stop, god, fuck—!” Your eyes are screwed shut as a sudden wave of pleasure breaks through you, your hand pulling at Beomgyu’s hair and your heel digging sharply into his back as you cum; the boy only lets out a pathetic whine at the feeling of you rolling your hips smoothly against his face, mouth left ajar and eyes fluttering shut as he lets you use him, riding it out with twitchy legs and soft moans.

Beomgyu only moves after your grip slips from his head entirely; your whole body is falling slack, a deep sigh escaping you as you attempt to catch your breath, eyes bleary and slowly opening after a moment— you’re able to watch as the said boy goes to stand, a weak hand of yours stopping his motion and grabbing at his shoulder— and you’re guiding him to hover over you, smiling coyly at the wrecked sight of him.

His glasses are completely skewed— a slight heat burns at your face from the sight, but it’s all washed away by the lopsided smile Beomgyu gives you, entirely unaware of his flushed and messy appearance; gently, you reach out to slip off his glasses, putting them off to the side as you reach to adjust his mused hair next— he merely watches your face with doe eyes as you brush his hair away gently, tucking it behind his ear before you cup his jaw, tugging him down to kiss you again.

“You’re sure you wanna do this?” you mumble against his lips, hands absentmindedly running along his skin soothingly, lips beginning to wander off as you trail soft pecks against his jawline, smiling at the way he doesn’t hesitate to nod, “you want it?”

“Need it,” Beomgyu whines, letting out a shaky breath as he grabs your hand, guiding it down his chest slowly, adding pressure once you’ve reached the bulge of his boxers— you can feel the way he twitches the moment you touch him, gulping softly before the continues to plead, “need it, need to feel you.”

His voice is sweet and soft in your ears, and you find that you can’t really bring yourself to put up a front and resist; it’s physically impossible to, especially with the way he ruts his cock against your hand, leaking pathetically and twitching at even the slightest stimulation.

Beomgyu’s attempts to remain calm and collected falls apart the moment you relent, face red and eyes wide with anticipation the moment he feels your hand go to pull his cock out; he falters above you for a split second, teeth sinking into his lip to suppress a whine that builds up in his throat. But his attempts are futile as always, a broken whimper leaving him the moment you press the head of his cock against your cunt, tightening around the shaft and proceeding to run it along your slit teasingly.

He’s practically panting above you, fingers gripping onto the sheets as he allows you to toy with him, eyes glassy and meeting yours as you simply coo mockingly at him, teasing him for being nothing but a toy for you to use.

The moment you press his tip against your entrance, the two of you tense; a shaky sigh escapes you at the stretch, looking up at Beomgyu and whispering for him to just put it in already; and he swallows, eyes watering at the feeling of him finally pushing into you— warm, wet walls that flutter around him, stretching and adjusting to his size; your hips that jolt with every inch he slides in, eyes widening and mouth falling open as you try to contain your composure— but his size is no joke, and curses leaves your mouth endlessly at the feeling of him filling you up.

“God— you’re so… so warm, so tight,” Beomgyu cries above you, hips stuttering and making him push himself deeper into you; a yelp escapes you at the feeling, hips pressed flushed against his as you stare up at him with wide eyes, cunt clenching at the anticipation of him fucking you.

But he simply remains still, and you’re just about to complain for him to move when you catch sight of his expression, screwed up into concentration as he lets out a deep breath— probably trying not to cum, you muse to yourself— and he sits up, no longer hovering over you as his hands move to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles on the skin as he looks down where the two of you connect; he looks up at you, puppy eyes begging for one thing.

“You— you can move,” you breathe out, cringing slightly at the weak sound of your voice, the way you trip over your words; Beomgyu nods, sighing shakily again before he finally begins to move, slowly pulling out until the only thing you feel is his tip catching at your entrance— then he thrusts back in, and you don’t bother to swallow down the moan that manifests from that.

Beomgyu isn’t faring any better than you; his brows are knitted together and his fingertips dig into the soft flesh of your hips, voice pitchy and whiny as he attempts to fuck you properly— but his thrusts are sloppy and rough, and it seems as though he’s too concentrated on the feeling of you around him to find a good pace.

You’re opening your mouth to tease him about it, only to get cut off at the feeling of him bumping his cock against your sweet spot; a whine leaves you unexpectedly, the sound accompanied with the feeling of your legs attempting to wrap around his waist to pull him in enough to snap him out of his pussy drunk daze. He’s drinking up your expression, his pace slowing down enough to allow him to search for that spot again— it takes a few attempts, but once he catches onto it, he doesn’t relent.

“Sh–shit, just like that,” you whine, his thrust becoming more calculated as he begins to take note of what makes you feel good once more— though it’s still slightly sloppy and uneven, his weak pants and pitchy whines enough to tell you that his mind is much too hazy to care.

Absentmindedly, your hand snakes down to circle at your clit in search of more stimulation— only to get it knocked away roughly by Beomgyu’s, eyes widening at the action until he’s replacing you hand with his— and though you wish you could make fun of him for being such a desperate bitch, the stimulation has your voice getting caught in your throat.

“Does— does this feel good?” Beomgyu suddenly asks, puppy eyes watering and glazed as he picks up his pace, one hand gripping onto your waist while the other continues to rub your clit, “Am I– ah… am I doing good?”

You almost miss the last part with how softly he says it— but once you process his question, you let out a breathy laugh, biting at your lip in an attempt to suppress the smile that tugs at your face; you fail miserably, but all the patronizing look in your eyes does is make Beomgyu’s cock twitch inside you a bit.

“Does my stupid puppy need something? Need my approval?” you ask, pouting at the way he hesitates to answer, “I won’t know unless you tell me, baby.”

The pet names are enough to have Beomgyu short-circuiting again; his face feels hot and he lets out a petulant whine at the way you continue to tease, ignoring his pleading look as you reach up to cup his jaw, cooing his name so sweetly he’s unable to be ashamed at how easily he breaks.

“Tell me I’m doing good,” he whines, and you simply smile at him, stuttered breaths and soft moans the only thing leaving your lips as you notice the increased sloppiness of his thrusts, his erratic voice and face that slowly nears yours, hovering over you as he speaks.

“I’m— ‘m good, right? Your…” he trails off, punctuating his next word with a harsh, deep thrust that has you yelping, “your good boy— tell me, tell me I’m good, just wanna hear you say it, ah, wanna be good for you.”

He’s a babbling, whining mess, hiding his face in your neck immediately after the words escape him— and with a request so sweet, how could you ever deny him?

“So good for me,” you immediately respond, listening to the muffled whimpers as he buries his head deeper into your neck, wandering lips sucking and biting at the skin, “good little pup— fuck, are you close? Gonna fill me up?”

You feel the way he nods frantically against you, his hand leaving your hip to circle under your back, pulling you flush against him as he continues his rough, haphazard thrusts— and you turn your head to face him, pressing a kiss to his head before you lean in close to his ear, the sounds of your breathy moans and sweet voice enough to bring him over the edge.

“C’mon, cum for me puppy,” you coo, listening to the long whimper he lets out in response, hips stilling and pressing flush against yours as he follows your command, warm cum filling you up as he rides out his orgasm, cock rutting subtly into you all the while, “that’s it— such a good boy, so perfect to me.”

His chest heaves against yours; his other arm comes up to sneak under your body as well, successfully hugging you close against him, bodies pressed together and practically one with how tightly he’s got you in his grip— his cock remains inside you all the while, head nuzzled deeply in the space of your neck as you merely let out an amused huff, giving him a moment to catch his breath before you tease him again.

The moment of peace between the two of you is cut by the abrasive sound of his phone ringing, the two of you looking at the source with furrowed brows; neither of you make a move to get it, watching it continue to vibrate on the bed before it goes silent— you’re both falling back against the bed the moment in bliss the moment the ringtone disappears, and you can feel Beomgyu’s arms tightening around you even more, not expecting him to be so openly clingy—

“You didn’t cum,” Beomgyu suddenly gasps, head popping up from his hiding place as he hovers over you with wide eyes. You simply reassure him that it’s alright, already feeling your body get heavy with exhaustion— but he isn’t having it, shaking his head and standing back up as he looks at you with an unbelievably solemn expression, wincing softly as he pulls out of you, “No, I wanna make you cum— wanna feel you cum on my dick, wanna make you feel good.”

The words sound clumsy coming from him, oddly shy to say what he wants out loud— and it makes you laugh, attempting to tell him that you really don’t mind when you’re getting interrupted by the annoying sound of his phone ringing.

“Seriously, who the hell is…” you’re trailing off as you watch Beomgyu’s eyes widen, leaning over to snatch his phone as he reads the contact name, his horrified expression telling you all you need to know.

“Don’t answer it,” you seethe, ignoring the way he stutters about how he totally forgot to cancel, feeling a hot anger bubble in your stomach as he talks about how bad he feels for not communicating properly, “Beomgyu, don’t answer it!”

“I— what if she’s waiting outside right now—?!”

Your movements are much too sudden and swift for him to process; he can only watch and allow you to snatch the phone away from him, rough hands gripping his shoulders and hissing at him to fucking sit; he’s quick to comply, and you’re even quicker to climb onto his lap and situate yourself just how you like— he cries softly at the feeling of you grabbing at his sensitive cock, stroking it for a moment and aligning it with your entrance before you’re sinking down on him slowly.

“Who cares if she’s outside right now,” you scowl, digging your fingers in his cheeks and forcing him to look at you, swollen lips red and pouty as he merely whines at the feeling of you rocking slowly against him, “it’s the least we could do to get back at her for trying to fucking use you.”

His protests die down once you pick up your pace; oh, his face practically screams, eyes glazing over at the feeling of your warm pussy using his sensitive cock to get yourself off, soft cries leaving him as he merely watches you begin to ride him expertly, already feeling himself get hard inside you, the sight of you on top of him and the sounds of skin against skin riling him much more than expected.

“Hnng, wait, slow down please—!” he whines softly, hands flying to your hips yet making no attempts to control the pace— and you can only laugh at him, the sounds of his soft cries enough to encourage you more.

You’re close— so, so close, and all Beomgyu can do is sit and take it, tears of sensitivity pricking at his eyes and falling along his cheeks the moment he feels your walls clench against him— but he’d rather die than stop you, sp entranced with the sight of your face twisted with pleasure that his body screams at him to do what he can to make you feel good.

Like instinct, your hand tangles itself in Beomgyu’s hair the moment he latches his lips against your nipple, back arching and the tight knot in your stomach falling apart the moment his wandering hand goes to play with your clit; the way your walls spasm and hug him tightly is enough to have Beomgyu cumming inside you again, a pathetic keen sounding from him as he buries his head in your chest, beyond sensitive with the way you continue to ride your orgasm long after.

It’s quiet, save for the sounds of your panting and Beomgyu’s soft whimpers— but it doesn’t last long, a tired groan escaping you at the sound of Beomgyu’s phone ringing again; without much of a thought, you reach for it and finally answer.

“Leave him alone. He’s busy.”

You hang up immediately after— the girl on the other side didn’t get the chance to utter a single word, and you find that you couldn’t care less as you toss his phone to the side and look over at Beomgyu— you’re smiling softly at the way he seems mortified at your action.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you feel bad,” you sigh, placing your hands on his chest and pushing, gently guiding the two of you to lay down— he remains inside you as he pulls you in close, your limbs heavy and tangling quickly as he mutters a soft no, I don’t; you smile. “Good. Cause I almost got mad again.”

He chuckles softly at that, falling quiet after; you look up at him to gauge his expression, finding that he’s lost in thought. After a few minutes, he meets your eyes meekly and finally speaks.

“Did you really mean what you said earlier?”

A pause. You said a lot of things earlier— but as you retract on every little thing that's come from your mouth, you realize what he’s talking about— and you laugh, reaching to cup his cheeks fondly as you nod.

“Of course I did,” you grin, pecking his lips, your heart fluttering wildly at the way he immediately chases after you for more after you pull away, “I meant all of it— and more.”

Softly, he smiles. His arms that were wrapped around you pull you in close, closing the space between you and bringing you in for a slow, sweet kiss— he pulls away, leaning into your ear to whisper something with a coy smile.

“So do you wanna play League of Legends later?”

You let out an annoyed yell and punch at his chest— you practically fuck his brains out, and this is all he can say?

“You’re such a fucking loser,” you mourn, hiding your face in your hands.

Beomgyu laughs, and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“But I’m your loser,” he says sweetly, nuzzling against your hair with a content sigh, “all yours.”

Under the covers of your hands, you smile.

All yours. You like the sound of that.

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #beomgyu ff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fanfiction

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sopebubbles · 10 months

Text

Master List

Twelve

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: Yoongi takes you on a date

Warnings: slight angst (mostly talking about her past), mentions of past abuse, homelessness, fear of abandonment

Honestly yall its a lot of yoongi and oc being freakin soft 😩

Yoongi was only slightly disappointed to find you awake and making breakfast with Hobi in the kitchen when he came in after eight in the morning. He'd kind of been hoping to be able to take a peek at you in your nest, just to see for himself that you were as safe and cozy as his other omega had promised (many times) that you were last night. Although he hadn't been gripped by the same agonizing fear he had known for the month you were gone, he still hated being away from you so long last night, and he'd texted both Jimin and Hoseok multiple times last to assuage his anxiety (and his guilt). They'd promised him that you had nested just fine, had eaten well and seemed perfectly happy with Jimin's company before peacefully going to sleep. It was cute just how much he worried about the details.

"Yoongi!" You said his name brightly when you saw him and rushed over to give him a hug. You were too energized from a good night's sleep and the cup of fresh squeezed orange juice Taehyung gave you to be self conscious about it. You didn't seem to notice the flour on your cheek until Yoongi brushed it off with a smile. "Oh sorry. I'm probably getting you dirty," you said as you tried to pull away. He held you close.

"I don't mind. Good morning," he hummed as he rubbed his chin over the top of your head.

"M-morning." Yoongi's arms tightening around you turned to jelly when you'd been solid only moments ago.

How can he be so warm? He must be tired and hungry.

"Can I get you some pancakes?" You offered, and he finally loosened his hold.

"Only if you eat some with me. Have you eaten yet?"

You shook your head. "But I need to help Hobi."

The omega waved a hand at you without looking back. "I can handle it. If your alpha says eat, then it's time to eat. Which you know. She kept saying she didn't want to eat until you got here," he added just to make you squirm. A small whine escaped your throat, drawing the attention of all the men, whether they intended to look your way or not. "Careful, girl. Your whines have power here," Hobi smirked as he set two plates in front of you and Yoongi on the counter.

You sat down and ate quietly for a few minutes while Yoongi tried and failed to pretend he was paying more attention to the food than to you. Jin and Jungkook were laying on the couch, nearly falling back asleep after stuffing themselves before anyone else got up. Jimin had gotten up to take your place helping Hobi while Taehyung and Namjoon sat at the table sharing the newspaper.

"What do you want to do today?" Yoongi asked after several minutes.

You swallowed and cleared your throat. "I have to work later."

Yoongi's fork froze halfway to his mouth. "What? why?"

You shrugged. "I work Saturdays."

"You work six hours a day, six days a week?" You nodded. "That's too much."

"I-I thought you d-didn't mind me working…"

Screwed it up already. Now you'll see how he really feels. The pancakes in your stomach turned to lead.

Yoongi could see you getting nervous, watched you grow even smaller. "No. No, I don't," he managed, forcing his voice to be calm. "I don't mind you working if it's what you want. But that's a lot. Thirty-six hours is almost full time but no benefits. That just seems…sketchy."

You tilted your head at him. "What do you mean?"

"Just that it seems like your employer is taking advantage of you. Do you get any benefits?"

"Well, I get heat leave."

"But what about health insurance? Vacation? Extended sick leave? What if you get pregnant?" Yoongi could feel all the air leave the room and wished he could take the words back.

You shook you head and spoke softly, "Yoongi, I'm not–"

"I know. I didn't mean that. I'm an idiot. I swear I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying, those are things you'd expect in a full-time job."

You shrugged. "It's not like I have a lot of options, Yoongi."

"I know," he sighed. "I just want you to be treated fairly."

You stood from your stool and walked toward the stairs. "People like me don't get treated fairly."

Yoongi got up and followed you, catching your arm as gently as he could. "I'm sorry. For what I said and how I said it. I know that you've been doing the best you could, and I have no right to judge that. Everything is okay." His hand laid hot against your neck, thumb stroking just the bottom edge of your scent gland. When he felt your shoulders relax, so did his. "Come finish your breakfast, and when you're ready I'll take you to work."

You turned worried eyes up at him. "You worked so hard, alpha. You must be tired. I'll finish, but then you need to go to sleep. Jimin and Tae will take me."

The corners of Yoongi's mouth turned up in a placating smile. "Okay."

He watched you walk back to your seat at the counter and pick up your fork, ignoring the eyes of the others as he joined you. He wanted to talk it through with you more, but he wasn't going to make you do it in front of everyone, and he didn't want to get into an argument before you went to work all day. Instead, he asked you how your night was and what you did the day before, and you plastered on a smile that slowly became more natural while you told him all about nesting and your newfound love of pillows.

When you'd both finished eating, you took your plates and washed them along with the others, no matter what Hobi said. You couldn't sit down and relax now. Doing so would only create nervous energy you wouldn't be able to dispel. You'd have to spend the rest of your day in motion. Yoongi followed you again when you went up the stairs to change for work, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a little annoying.

At the top of the stairs you turned to look at him. "Are you going to follow me around all day?" You snapped.

Yoongi took a step back. He honestly didn't even realize how close he was. "I'm sorry. I wasn't intending to." He rubbed a hand over his eyes and you could see how tired he was.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "What are you doing?"

He sighed. "I was going to sleep like you'd suggested. I think I was following you because…"

He wants to sleep in my nest.

The realization dawned on both of you. "It's not time yet," you said softly, but eased your defensive stance.

Yoongi met your eyes with equal tenderness and smiled a little. "Yet?"

"Yet," you confirmed.

Somehow the idea that there was a future nest he would be invited into was enough for him. "That's alright."

You turned on your heel to walk to your room, but he called you back. "Would you like to go on a date with me tonight?"

"A date?"

"Yeah. If you don't have any plans."

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

He chuckled. "Well, I told you we could date as part of our courtship, and I would like to get to know you better."

"But…" you looked at him with an expression of such utter confusion that he wished he had a camera to document it.

"But what?"

"I just…I don't want you to force yourself to take me on a date if you aren't attracted to me."

It was Yoongi's turn to be utterly lost. "Whatever gave you the idea that I'm not attracted to you? I'm your alpha."

"Yeah, I know, but I feel like you're just doing this, taking me in because you want to protect me, because I'm so helpless and pathetic. And you were so cool about not breeding me. Plus you have all the guys, and so I just guessed you weren't thinking of me that way." You wilted under Yoongi's amused gaze.

He snorted. "Princess, I do want to protect you because you are incredibly vulnerable, but that doesn't change my attraction to you one bit. And there's a whole world of intimacy between protecting you and breeding you. It's vast and we should go slow, but a date is a good start. That is, unless you aren't attracted to me."

Blood rushed to your face as you felt put on the spot. What kind of omega wouldn't be attracted to the alpha he was? What person wouldn't fall for his gentle, caring demeanor? But you couldn't possibly admit to it.

Yoongi stepped closer to mark the top of your head with his scent. The embrace only lasted a few seconds before he pulled away, but it still left you weak in the knees.

"I don't have anything to wear."

Yoongi shrugged. "It will be very casual. No one will see you but me. You can wear pajamas for all I care. Bonus points if you wear one of my hoodies."

You smiled at that thought. "Okay then."

"Good. Then I'll see you tonight," he told you before he turned and went into the pack bedroom to sleep.

Yoongi was pleasantly surprised to find an apple-scented pillow in his usual spot and let himself enjoy it for a few minutes before his memory from last night came back to him.

He had brought a patient to the emergency room of the hospital he had brought your ex-alpha to a few nights ago. After they filled out some paperwork, Yoongi and his partner took a break. His motivation was unclear, even at the time, but he found out what room the alpha was staying in from a nurse that liked to talk to him whenever she got the chance. She told him that he was still in the ICU, but that he was in a coma, and hadn't woken up since the night he was brought in. When he found the room, there was a woman inside. A tall redhead, an alpha as well, if Yoongi wasn't mistaken, so he steered clear, but it had stuck with him the rest of the night.

When he heard you, Jimin and Taehyung leave the house, Yoongi got out of bed and went to the living room where Jin and Jungkook were still on the couch.

"Is everything okay, Yoongi?" Jin asked when the alpha only stood over them without saying a word.

"I need to ask you some questions. Legal questions," he clarified and sat on the coffee table opposite them.

"What's on your mind, hyung?" Jungkook sat up to give him his full attention.

"I found out last night that her ex-alpha–"

"His name is Sebastián," Jungkook added.

Yoongi growled. "He's in a coma. And I just need to know what's going to happen to her if he never wakes up. And I guess, what happens if he does?"

Jin sat up and shared a look with Jungkook before he spoke. "If he doesn't wake up, there would most likely be a grand jury investigation, which would determine who, if anyone, was responsible for his death."

"In that case, the blame would likely fall on the driver, since she has already been charged with drunk driving. It would be manslaughter," Jungkook added.

"But she said she pushed him, in her statement. That won't matter?"

Jin shook his head doubtfully. "She could get charged, but in my experience, if you put that girl in front of any judge or jury, there's no way they wouldn't chalk it up to self defense. If he does survive, it wouldn't even make sense to press charges for assault. He wouldn't look very sympathetic. But whether or not she's charged criminally, if he dies, his family could bring a wrongful death suit to civil court. But again, it will be hard to make her look like a perpetrator, especially since they're both Lykos."

"You seem confident that she'll be okay?"

"I am," Jin assured him.

"But what if she had a motive?" Yoongi worried.

"You mean because they knew each other?" Yoongi nodded. Jin thought it over, rubbing his finger along his lower lip. "The prosecution would have to prove she meant to push him into traffic and not just to get him off of her. In that case, she'd just need to be coached not to take the bait."

"Could you do it? Would you take the case? If it came to that, I mean." Yoongi didn't know any other lawyers, and he certainly didn't know any he thought he could trust with something like this more than Jin.

He must have been able to read that emotion in Yoongi's eyes because Jin nodded. He wouldn't take that trust for granted again. "If she needs me to, of course, Yoongi. I'll do anything for you."

You were surprised when Yoongi said he was taking you to a drive in theater. You'd hardly been to any movie theaters at all in your life, and never a drive-in, but you liked the idea of it. There were lots of benefits to it. You got to go out to a public place, but sitting in his car was relatively private. The movie removed the pressure to make conversation, but on the other hand, if the movie wasn't very interesting, you could talk through it without disturbing anyone else. It was really a perfect idea for a first date.

He'd urged you to take a nap when you got home since the movie wouldn't start until later, and you were glad you'd taken his advice. You didn't have much to choose from when it came to clothing options, so you simply put on a clean pair of jeans and the mustard yellow hoodie he had loaned you a few days ago. Yoongi seemed pleased enough with your ensemble, repeating his compliment of how nice you looked in that color. He wasn't dressed up at all either, wearing a pair of ordinary jeans and a baggy long sleeve shirt. You wouldn't know it because he wouldn't say such a thing, but there wasn't anything you could wear that would look more appealing to him than his own clothes, because they made you look like you were his. He beamed at you when you came down the stairs to leave with him.

"Do I look okay?" You whispered to Hoseok.

He pinched your cheek. "You look adorable. He loves it. Believe me." He winked at Yoongi over your head and the alpha held out his hand to take you to the car. "Don't come home too early," he instructed as you went out the door together.

Once you got settled in the front seat, Yoongi cleared his throat before he started the engine. "This is for you," he said as he handed you a brand new Samsung phone.

"Oh, I–"

"Before you say you don't need it, just consider that it's for me. I want you to make sure that you have it with you and it's on all the time. I told you that it's important for me to know where you are, so I can keep you safe, so you need a phone. And don't worry, it's not like the newest model or anything. Besides, remember you're agreed to let me provide for you. So just accept it. It has all of the pack's numbers saved already, in case you ever need one of them, and they all have your number already. I'm your emergency contact," he rambled.

Instead of offering any protest you smiled softly and unbuckled your seat belt to lean over and kiss him on the cheek. "Thank you, alpha," you said before you leaned back into your spot. You may have wanted to refuse, but he was right, it was for him and not you, not really. If he needed you to carry this thing around in order to feel more secure, that shouldn't be hard for you.

You weren't prepared for more gifts when you got to the drive-in. When you found a spot to park, Yoongi told you to wait while he got out of the car and went to the trunk. You looked anxiously through the back window, but couldn't see anything that gave away what he was doing. Eventually he pushed a large gift bag and picnic basket through his open car door before he joined you again.

"What's all this?" You wondered, looking at the tissue paper sticking out of the huge bag at your eye level.

"Why don't you open it and see?" He teased.

You narrowed your eyes at him as you got up on your knees to be able to look over the bag, but your scrutiny only made him smile. Pulling out the paper piece by piece revealed two soft round pillows inside, one lavender and one orange.

"I figured you needed some pillows for your nest. I thought these could remind you of me and Jiminie."

Your cheeks and your eyes burned as you pulled out the two pillows, almost ball-like except for how plush they were. They squeezed nicely in your arms when you held them to your chest.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" Yoongi asked, beginning to feel nervous when you didn't say anything.

You buried your head in them to hide your wet eyes. "They're perfect." Your words were muffled, but they still warmed Yoongi's heart. When you collected yourself, you placed the pillows safely back in the bag and set it aside. "What's in the basket?"

"Oh, I asked Hobi to put together some snacks for us. But if there are any other treats you want, I'll go get something from the concession stand." Yoongi opened the top of the basket and you both reached for the box of raisinets at the same time. You whispered an apology while Yoongi plucked them out. He opened the box and handed it to you. "I'm going to go get some popcorn. Do you have a drink preference?"

You shook your head and he got out once again to go get more snacks. You shoved a few raisinets into your mouth and put the rest away. Then you pulled out the soft orange pillow from the gift bag at your feet and held it close again. You wondered if he'd already scented it, or if it was your imagination that applied the orange aroma.

The longer he was gone, your mind began to wander. It was hard not to think about all the first things you were experiencing lately. Your very first completely safe, self- made nest, your first drive-in movie, your first date. It had felt like you'd been living for years, in the most raw way possible, but maybe all you'd done was survive, and only barely. These new things seemed so small and insignificant to you when they were only abstract ideas, things you would live without because you didn't need them to survive, but now they felt monumentally important as each one carved a memory in your heart. And each one was available to you only because of Yoongi.

The man at the center of your thoughts broke through them when he returned several minutes later carrying a large bucket of popcorn, which he handed to you, and a large coke that he balanced on the dashboard.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, taking in your expression, which remained pensive as he settled into his seat.

You forced a smile, not because you weren't feeling it, but because it wasn't a thing you were accustomed to showing. "I'm fine. I…" you searched for something to say that would take you away from your thoughts. "I didn't even ask what we were seeing."

Yoongi chuckled at himself. "Oh. Yeah. It's actually a horror movie. I was actually hoping we could see the comedy that's playing on the other screen, but it was sold out, so this one was left. But if you don't like horror movies, I was thinking we could just sit and talk. Or we could leave. Or if we're really bored we could turn on the radio station for the comedy and watch it with the horror scenes."

You laughed at his ridiculous idea, but thought it actually sounded kind of fun. "Well, I do like horror movies, but option three also sounds interesting," you admitted with a smile that almost stopped his heart.

Yoongi cleared his throat as he looked out the window. "There's still like twenty or thirty minutes before the sun sets and the movie starts. Maybe we can still talk?"

You began to get the feeling that this was what he actually wanted to begin with. He had said he wanted to get to know you, and you supposed he had a right to know the person he was taking in, but at the same time you didn't want to overwhelm him with all of your baggage, at least not in one night.

"What do you want to talk about?" You hedged, shoving a kernel of popcorn past your lips.

"Well, I just really want to know more about you, but I don't want to be unfair, so you can ask me anything you want to," he offered, turning in his seat to look at you.

"I don't know what I could tell you that Jungkook hasn't already. I mean, he must have run a background check on me, right? And he would have told you before he let you take me home?"

Yoongi shook his head. "Jungkook hasn't really said much, actually. I mean, yeah, we do know about, um, where you were before you came to the city," he said diplomatically.

"You mean jail?" You asked provocatively. "You can say it. Unless it makes you uncomfortable, which I understand." You knew you shouldn't be getting your hackles up with him. He approached the subject gently and here you were, striking back with your claws out like the alley cat that you were. You closed your eyes to try to calm your racing heart.

He placed a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, it's okay. I'm not judging you. No one in the pack is, either. You're not the only person to get arrested, you know."

You opened your eyes and looked at him incredulously. "Have you been arrested?"

Yoongi nodded his head. "When I was sixteen. A friend and I stole his uncle's car and went for a joy ride. I was just a passenger, and I hadn't presented yet. They dropped the charges."

"Wow, grand theft auto," you chuckled and he did too.

"My point is, we all have a past. I mean, some of us more than others, but you're not the only one."

You eyed him uncertainly. "Did he tell you what I was arrested for? I wasn't just arrested Yoongi. I spent six months in county."

Yoongi nodded. "I know, but I'm not judging you for what you had to do."

You shook your head with a wry laugh. "That's the thing. I didn't do it. I mean yeah, she made me go out there, but I promise you I didn't sell my body. Honest. That was my first night. I may have been naive, but I'm not an idiot. The first guy I talked to was a cop, and I knew it. I could spot him easy, so I offered myself up and I let him arrest me. And when they charged me, I pleaded guilty. Do you know why?" Yoongi shook his head, dark eyes locked on yours. "Because going to jail was better than going back to my alphas."

Yoongi kept his face neutral despite the anger he felt bubbling below the surface of his skin. He'd never ever question your decision, but he would always feel angry that your situation was so bad that jail seemed like a viable alternative for you.

"You said alphas?" He questioned when he managed to speak.

"Two of them," you said with a nod.

"And one of them was female?"

"Yeah, they were husband and wife."

"How did you meet them? I mean…he's so much older."

You grabbed the coke from the dashboard and took a long drink to clear the lump in your throat. Yoongi's eyes never left you, but you tried to ignore him. "I met her first. I was on the streets. I was almost seventeen by then, but I'd been on my own for months. She just started talking to me one day when she was volunteering at a soup kitchen…offered me a place to stay. And I was desperate enough to not question it."

"So she just…took you in off the streets?" You nodded. "And then what?" He asked as if your story was the one he had bought a ticket for tonight.

"And then…and then everything seemed normal for like a week. They just seemed like a regular couple. They had a spare room and they needed help around the house, so I would clean and take care of the house in exchange for living there. It was several days before I realized they actually wouldn't let me leave. I hadn't really been on heat suppressants yet, and when that time came around I found out that the real reason they wanted me was because they wanted babies. They couldn't have any on their own, so they would use me. Like some fucked up puppy mill," you choked out.

Yoongi reached over to pat your back, but you flinched away from him, and he could understand that you wanted your space after such a revelation. He took his hand back and tried to think of something to say when all he wanted to do was rage on your behalf. But he knew it wouldn't do you any good. "It makes sense that you were so frightened when two other strangers took you off the street. You must have been very scared."

You looked him straight in the eyes. "It's only been a few days. Shouldn't I still be scared?"

It wounded Yoongi deeply that you felt that way, but he could hardly blame you. He knew it wasn't about him exactly. "I'm sorry. I know there isn't really anything I could say to reassure you that you're safe with me but–"

"It's okay, Yoongi. I do feel safe with you. It's different. The way I feel when I think about you. When I'm near you…I feel safe but…" you looked out at the narrowing strip of pink sky to your left.

"But what?"

"I've been taken in so many times when I think I'm at my lowest. When I was abandoned as a baby, when I met those other alphas, when Eli came to play big brother. And never, never has any of it actually made me safe."

"I hope–" Yoongi could feel the tears at his water line, but they would stay there. He bit his lip and looked away as well. "I hope you'll stay long enough to know that you will be safe in our home."

You looked back at him finally and noticed the collar of his unbuttoned button-down shirt was crooked. Reaching over to straighten it, you assured him, "as long as you keep it safe for me, I won't have anywhere else to go."

Yoongi took your wrist gently before you had the chance to pull away from him. With his fingertips against your pulse point, he could feel the strong, steady beat of your heart, not high enough to be panicking, but still a little anxious. "I will do everything I can to make you feel safe," he promised.

Before you could make any kind of response, the lights over the parking lot shut off and images began to play on the screen in front of you. Without another word, Yoongi released you in order to fiddle with the radio, tuning it to the right station for your movie. You both settled back into the seat, facing the screen, with a mountain of snacks in between you. You each tried your best to focus on the movie, but you could feel it every time his eyes slid toward you as he watched your profile instead of the characters on screen. Every time you turned to look at him he recentered his attention, but he was fooling no one. Several times your hands brushed when you both reached into the popcorn for a salty snack, and he would chuckle awkwardly before pulling away.

You both tried to focus on the movie, but the truth was that it did nothing to hold your attention, not with Yoongi right beside you.

"There's something I don't understand," you said abruptly, causing Yoongi to look quickly between you and the huge screen. The movie had been pretty straight forward, to the point of being pretty boring.

"What?"

"Why do you like me? Why me?" Yoongi laughed openly while you pouted. You pulled your feet under you and turned to face him straight on, giving up any pretense of watching the movie. "Don't laugh. I'm serious. I mean. I don't know. I guess I'm trying to understand your intentions because I want to believe that this won't be like before but I…I'm scrawny and dumb and there's nothing interesting about me. I'm not even pretty enough to make up for it all. And there are plenty of needy omegas in this city. So what could you possibly want me for?"

Yoongi's humor subsided, and he turned the radio down before moving to face you as well. His expression was serious but his eyes still held light. He reached over to brush back your hair so he could see your face in the scattered light from the projector.

"I don't think attraction is ever really about those things. Not how someone looks or what they have to say, but how those things resonate with you. It's an elemental, a chemical thing. I just like you. Maybe that's why Hobi and Jin think we're fated mates."

"Fated mates?"

"I don't know. It's kind of…lykos folklore. Sort of what saps think of as soulmates. Like, it just feels right with someone, like you're linked to them even though there's no real reason. There's no proof that it's real. It's just a feeling I guess. But they say it only happens with alphas and omegas. And I don't think I believe it. I don't know if you feel that. But I do feel drawn to you in a way that I never have with anyone else. I don't even think attraction is the right word. I just feel like…I need to be with you."

Yoongi's eyes never left your face while he talked and you didn't realize you were holding your breath until he stopped and you inhaled so you could answer him. "Maybe that's why my omega wants me to trust you even though everything else tells me not to. Like, I should be terrified of you, but I'm just not. I just want to be good so that I can stay."

You didn't know you were leaning toward him, nor were you fully aware of the words you spoke or how they made Yoongi's heart race, but when he brushed his fingers along your cheekbone you suddenly leaned back, blinking rapidly to regain your composure.

Yoongi coughed and pulled his hand away, reaching for candy to occupy his fingers. "I guess I should be honest with you about my intentions," he said with a shrug. "Because I know they aren't entirely altruistic."

You swallowed, but kept your eyes on him. His words made you nervous, but you'd hardly call it fear. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe it's a little dark. Or maybe all alphas feel this way. I always knew I was an alpha before presentation, because I always wanted people to depend on me. I always wanted to be in charge, to be a provider, to have the people in my life need me even more than they wanted me. In a way, the attraction I have, the love I have for the others, that's the unbelievable thing. With Jimin, with you, I felt from the first time I met each of you that you needed me. You wouldn't survive without me. And I liked that. Do you think that's kind of sick?" He wondered. You couldn't tell if he wanted an answer, or if he wanted you to be a little bit scared. But still you didn't feel it.

I don't think I will survive without you, your inner self echoed.

You reached out to him, let your fingers graze the back of his hand. "I'm not sure. I'm not the best judge of what's normal and what's not. But it sounds right to me. I think to myself sometimes, I don't know how I've survived this long. I should be dead. Omegas…we aren't built to make it on our own. Sometimes it seemed like my death was right around the corner, but I don't feel that way anymore. The last two days have felt like the safest days of my whole life," you admitted.

Yoongi's chest felt tight, like his heart would burst through his ribs if you kept talking. He turned his palm up so he could slot his fingers through yours. You sat in silence for a moment, letting him hold your hand while he tried to keep his breathing steady.

"I don't understand why you're not pack alpha. Is it because Seokjin makes more money?" You wondered after a minute as you brushed back his chin length hair with your fingers.

Yoongi chuckled. "If we're getting technical, Taehyung makes the most money in the pack."

Your eyes bulged in surprise. "But I thought Tae didn't work."

"He doesn't have a job in the strictest sense, but reclusive artists are often the most sought after. His paintings sell for a high price tag to collectors."

You hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe I picked the wrong alpha."

Yoongi tugged on your hand playfully, making you giggle. "I always wanted to be a pack alpha. When I was younger I tried to establish my own pack but…it just wasn't right. I didn't have a lot to offer back then. I've never had Jin's resources. And then I met his pack, and I felt very comfortable with them. It was easy to fall in love with each of them so quickly. But they were already complete before me. I felt surprised they even wanted me. So I let go of that dream. It's been over five years now."

"But then you met Jimin, right? Did you think about starting a pack with him? On your own, I mean?"

Yoongi shrugged. "An alpha and a beta isn't much of a pack. You can make a pack without a beta, but without an omega? What's the point?" He looked at you through his eyelashes, but then quickly away. "Besides, Jimin and I both always wanted a big pack, and he clicked with Jungkook and Taehyung right away. It would have been selfish to take him away just because I wanted to be in charge."

"You're my pack alpha though," you murmured, sending a shiver down Yoongi's spine. He could only nod. "Good."

He lets his eyes close and for a minute you just watch him breathe steadily, happy that he seems content with you. But as seconds slip by you begin to feel that it might not be enough. Maybe it was silly, but you felt so much closer to him after all you'd both said, and holding his hand wasn't physically close enough anymore.

"I'm kind of cold," you told him quietly, taking him from his thoughts.

"I can turn on the heat," he offered, letting go of your hand and reaching for the ignition.

"Or maybe you could just hold me?"

The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. He helped you move all the snacks to the backseat of the impala and moved closer so you met in the middle. You huddled into his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you legs over his. You let out a quiet, happy sigh you hoped he didn't notice.

"If you wanted to cuddle all you had to do was say so," he whispered to the top of your head.

You turned your face into his shoulder. "I'm working on it," you mumbled.

He smiled and ran his fingers through your hair, dragging his fingernails gently against your scalp. "You're doing great, princess."

You made a noise Yoongi wouldn't only describe as grumpy and turned your face up at him. "Why do you call me that?"

"Because that's what I want you to feel like. Because princesses have everything they need provided for. And because you're special just because you're you. But if you don't like it, I can call you something else."

You nestled into him again. "Well, when you put it like that."

Once again, Yoongi turned up the volume on the radio and you both at least pretended to pay attention. Although the movie in general was pretty innocuous, you took advantage of one lame jump scare to bury your face into his neck. Yoongi held his breath as you nosed at his scent gland, causing his light, happy scent to fill the car around you. He let you stay in his arms until the end of the movie, and although you didn't fall asleep, it was an easy mistake for him to make. He scratched teasingly at your side to rouse you when the screen went dark.

"Are you ready to go home, princess?"

You tilted your head up to see his features illuminated by the lights of other cars as they made their exits. You'd practically forgotten that there was anyone else there. Your head nodded sleepily, and Yoongi reluctantly moved you over to your side of the seat. When he moved behind the steering wheel you moved back to the center seat and strapped in the seatbelt there so you could stay close to his warmth.

No matter how old you get, the urge to stay up on a Saturday night always remains. Yoongi could tell by the soft footsteps moving about the second floor that the pack are just settling in for the night, brushing their teeth and for the most part discarding unnecessary items of clothing before staking their claim to their spots in the nest. Everyone was home for once, and they'd all sleep soundly. Even you. Even Yoongi, although he knew that it still wasn't time for you and him to share space for that activity. You climbed the stairs sleepily with Yoongi a few steps behind you, making sure you didn't slip as you swayed precariously. His hand went quickly to your hip, grabbing hold of the fabric there when you tripped over the top step. The noise brought Hoseok to the bedroom door.

"You didn't get her drunk, did you, alpha?" Hobi asked from the half open door. Yoongi rolled his eyes, because the omega knew that wasn't the plan.

"No, just sleepy," you yawned as you rubbed your eyes.

Jimin squeezed past Hoseok to give you a goodnight hug. "You smell like you crawled out of an orange." He giggled, "apples and oranges."

Yoongi blushed while the two of you said your goodnights.

"Do you need any help getting ready for bed?" Hobi asked softly. He'd helped you take apart your nest earlier today so that you could keep practicing.

"No, I think I got it. And I have new pillows," you whispered happily.

"Okay then," he smiled back. "Yoongi, I'll see you in a minute," he said, and the instruction to your alpha was clear, just in case he didn't already know where he would be sleeping tonight. He closed the door and the two of you were cloaked in darkness except for a sliver of light from a lamp Hoseok left on for you in your room.

"Are you going to tell them what I told you earlier?" You asked after a moment passed with nothing but the sound of your breathing.

"I won't, if you don't want me too. But no one is going to judge you if you're–"

"No. I was just thinking it would be better if you did. That way I don't have to tell it six more times."

Yoongi nodded. It was a vulnerable thing you had shared, and it couldn't be easy to talk about with others. "I read once that if you talk about your trauma repeatedly, like you're telling a story, it can start to feel more like a thing that happened and not something that's still happening to you."

You cringed at the thought. "I think I'd still rather have you explain it. If you don't mind."

"Of course," he agreed easily, anything to make you more comfortable.

"I had a good time tonight," you admitted after another quiet moment where neither of you seemed to want to leave.

Yoongi's smile was becoming semi permanent. "I'm glad. Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

He took one step closer to you and leaned down to kiss your cheek, but you turned your head up in such a way that you caught his lips with your own. You froze in surprise, and even more shockingly, he didn't move away. Yoongi took another step into you, so your chests were just touching. His hand went around your back to keep you steady despite intensifying the angle of your kiss. Still, it remained chaste even as it went on. His lips were hot and soft and just slightly moist, but he seemed content to press his mouth just gently to yours for another moment longer. Then his lips finally left yours, he whispered his goodnight and disappeared into the pack bedroom.

😃😃 they kissed! Who wants to scream about it?

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769 notes · View notes

moonchildstyles · 2 years

Note

Can you please write about aster harry and y/n going on their vacation. They're just having such a good time under the sun and being in love. And she looks so soft in her summer dresses and he can't stop loving on her

You mentioned in one of the Aster extra chapters that Harry and Y/N were leaving for a vacation. How do you think would they spend their time together on a vacation?

Cockwarming with aster Harry 🥵🥵

wordcount: 17.5k+

—————

"Wait right here for me, 'kay? I'll grab our bags and be right back."

Harry pressed a quick kiss to the top of (Y/N)'s head before disappearing into the airport rush, not even giving her a second to argue or ask if he wanted help. But, she couldn't lie and say she wasn't grateful for the reprieve and chance to sit down with space to breathe. The flight that landed them in Barcelona had been long with all the delays and extra hours spent awaiting an open terminal, and the fact the plane was packed to the brim with tourists taking advantage of the long weekend.

It felt like a breath of fresh air when she and Harry finally spilled out into the tunnel and entered the stuffy airport. At least she could stretch her legs and the only person touching her was Harry. So, even as much as she felt guilty watching him venture into the crowd to get to baggage claim, she didn't really want to leave the little bench he had deposited her at now that she had more than a couple feet of space.

Checking the time on her phone, (Y/N) sighed at the time change. She'd never traveled this far from home, and these differences were starting to nag at her. The worst of it all was that she didn't know exactly where everything was—the hotel, restaurants in town, any convenience stores, even where to park if they went to any attractions—and that for the duration of their trip, they would have to rely on Ubers and taxis to get them around. Though Harry took on the brunt of the planning and let her know about those little details and humored her line of 'what ifs'—what if she forgot shampoo? What if she forgot swimsuit bottoms? What if the restaurant they wanted to go to was closed? What if? What if? What if?—, she still felt pangs of anxiety when she remembered just how far from home she was.

A buzz from her phone made her jump in her spot, a notification from Sarah lighting up the screen. Swiping open the message, a photo of Evie with her eyes big and cheeks puffed greeted (Y/N), tugging a smile onto her lips.

Sarah

Evie wants to know how the flight was! you didn't get sick right??

(Y/N) saved the photo, excited to show Harry when he made it back with their bags before typing out a reply. Sarah had been a wonderful listener when (Y/N) had ranted about her worries the day before, the plane ride being one of the biggest factors that made her stomach tight and head hurt. But, she'd done her part and talked (Y/N) down as best she could and promised to check in with her around the landing time and would be supplying an endless stream of Evie pictures as a distraction while she was tasked with cat sitting for the week.

After hitting send on her message, (Y/N) peered over her phone in search of Harry. He was easy to spot with the vast amount of ink tattooed onto his bared arms, eyes shaded by a pair of round, black sunglasses, curls of hair hanging loose to his shoulders. His lip ring glinted in the light, accentuating the hard line of his mouth as he made his way through the crowd, being less than accommodating when someone tried cut him off. The tense of his jaw only shifted as he chewed on his gum, having grabbed the stick during the flight to help with the way his ears popped at the altitude. If it wasn't for her big white and baby pink duffle bag slipped over his shoulder, even (Y/N) would have been intimidated.

And, of course, the smile that split his lips once he caught sight of her.

He didn't look so mean then. Not at all.

"Ready?" Harry asked once he was close enough, the pair of black suitcases he was pulling coming to a stop behind him.

"Mhm," (Y/N) hummed, stretching her legs as she stood from her spot, "We still need to call an Uber though, right?"

Harry shook his head, hiking her bag up his shoulder though she was more than capable of taking it from him now. "Ordered one while I was waiting for your bag to come around."

"Oh," she chirped, feeling the tense of her shoulders dissipate. Of course he was prepared and ready, she didn't know why she doubted him in the first place. "Thank you."

A smile grew on Harry's lips as he shook his head before gesturing for her to follow him towards the pickup stations out front. "Sarah text you yet?"

(Y/N) jumped up at the reminder of the photo on her phone. "She did, and she sent me this picture of Evie! Look!" she bubbled, pulling her phone out and showing off the puffy-cheeked kitten she knew Harry missed immensely already. A pout formed on Harry's lips as he fawned over the picture of his cat—just the reaction she had been hoping for.

"You're gonna have to send me that, lovebug," Harry told her, his murmured voice coming out as a coo.

"We should've brought her with us," (Y/N) said, taking a moment to pass along the photograph while she was thinking about it.

Beside her, Harry reached out an arm, stopping her from moving forward as a large family cut across right in front of them. "Be careful, love," Harry started, his hand running down the length of her arm before lacing his fingers between hers while they waited. "I don't know about that, though," he continued, answering her proposal, "I don't think the hotel staff would really appreciate cleaning up after her."

"I'd clean up after her," she pouted, looking up at him though he kept his eyes forward as he guided them through the airport, "They wouldn't even know she was there."

A breathy laugh left his lips as he glanced down at her for a second, lashes fluttering behind his sunglasses. "I'll keep that in mind for next time."

A quiet smile formed on (Y/N)'s lips as she kept close to him. The mention of a next time for anything involving Harry always make her heart feel a little off beat; that idea of a future, even in such vague terms always did her in.

Stepping out of the airport, the sun was warm as it fell over her skin. The airport had been cold, the air-conditioning turned up to the max, but now not a trace of it lingered on (Y/N)'s skin. The sun felt different here in Barcelona, she was convinced. She couldn't help herself as she looked up to the sky, spotting the fluffs of clouds that littered the blue expanse. Feeling the sun's rays paint over her cheeks only made her smile bigger.

Maybe it was the fact she was away from all things school, and work, and stress, but this had to have been the most excited (Y/N) had been in a long time. She couldn't remember the last time she took a vacation, especially when she was with her parents (they typically liked to go off without her when she was growing up, not wanting to have to worry about her while they relaxed, they told her). And now, being here with Harry was almost enough to make her feel as through she could sprout wings and bounce among the clouds above them.

Absently, (Y/N) felt herself be pulled in a different direction with the help of Harry's hand. A quiet breath of a laugh sounded from beside her as she stumbled to follow him, but she couldn't find it in her to be embarrassed. She was too happy, to enamored at just the idea she was in a different country, to worry about acting silly.

Just when she felt tears beginning to collect in the corners of her eyes from the way she had to squint if she wanted to continue her game of finding shapes in the clouds, a pair of dark sunglasses was put in front of her eyes. The middle piece slid up the bridge of her nose before a tattooed hand delicately latched it around her ears.

"You're making me nervous with the way you're looking at the sun, baby," Harry explained through a smile.

(Y/N) dropped her attention from the sky to find Harry's eyes now bare, the green seemingly extra bright given the sepia tones that now coated her vision. He didn't look nervous with the way he smiled at her, the curl crooked with only a single dimple denting his cheek.

"Sorry," she murmured instinctively, her own mouth curving into a quiet smile as she gazed up at him.

"No need to be sorry," he told her, brushing his finger over her nose as he pushed up her sunglasses, "Y'look cute in m'sunglasses."

Maybe it was the sun beating down from above, but (Y/N)'s cheeks immediately felt a bout of warmth bubble under the surface. "Thank you, H."

His smile only grew at her quiet gratitude. "C'mon," he beckoned to her, nodding his head down the pickup area that was congested with other tourists like them, "I think that's our car down there."

Following after Harry, (Y/N) felt like an excited puppy. She loved exploring new things with him, and this was no exception. She trusted without a doubt that wherever it was that he decided to take her would be wonderful, as he never settled for anything less when she was involved.

Cuddling up in the backseat of their Uber, (Y/N) didn't mind the way Harry threw his arm around her shoulders or smeared a kiss on the full of her sun-warmed cheek before he muttered the address of their resort to the driver.

Maybe the warmth of the Barcelona air that relaxed her body, or maybe it was the man beside her, but (Y/N) hadn't ever felt more comfortable in her own skin.

"Happy anniversary," Harry whispered in her ear, his lip ring glinting off the shell before he pressed a kiss just below her lobe.

The beaming smile on her face served to bunch her cheeks up enough that her borrowed glasses were jostled as the frames rested on her warm cheeks. "Happy anniversary."

Yeah, the sun was great, but it had nothing on her Harry.

—————

"Look, H! We have a balcony!"

(Y/N) couldn't help herself as she bubbled about the suite they had booked for the duration of their stay. Dropping her duffle bag she had to pry from Harry's grip as he argued that it was his job to carry her things, she ran off to the double French doors the led to the fenced in terrace that branched off from their room. A small patio furniture set complete with sun loungers and a glass table fit with rose shaped coasters awaited her outside. The stucco walls were a roasted orange color, the black wrought-iron railing standing out starkly against the sepia tones. (Y/N) bounced on her heels as she came up to the edge, fingers wrapping around the twisting iron that fenced her in from the streets below.

The view was immaculate, but she couldn't have expected anything less—not with the way Harry had been boasting that he had pulled out all the stops for their anniversary trip. He hadn't wanted to spoil her by showing her photos provided by the hotel's website, but he had told her it was the prettiest view he could imagine (aside from her smiling at him, of course), and she was not disappointed.

Barcelona was a coastal city, no more than twenty minutes from the shore, which was presented to her in the distance. The beach breeze whistled through the city in gentle gusts ushered in by the white-capped waves she could see crashing in on the sandy beach. She could already imagine herself in one of the new bikinis she had packed (her first ever two piece swimsuits!), an orange and white swirled umbrella staked into the sand to shield her from catching too much sun, with Harry at her side, smiling at her with even more warmth.

"What do y'think, hm? Does it live up to your expectation?" Harry murmured behind her, his presence making her jump as she hadn't heard him join her on the terrace.

A breathy laugh was washed over her bare shoulder, exposed by the thin strap of her tank top, as Harry caged his arms around her. His hands landed on the railing on either side of her own, rings clinking against the iron. (Y/N) didn't hesitate as she instinctively sunk into his chest, her back meeting the blocks of muscle that made up his abdomen.

"It's so pretty, Harry," she murmured, awe coating her voice, "I don't know how you were able to book this. I hope it wasn't too expensive."

"Don't worry about that, 'kay?" he told her, nudging her shoulder gently. She already knew what he was going to say next, but it still made her feel a bit fluttery as she heard it: "Y'deserve the best; nothing's too much for me when it comes to you."

She knew it was cheesy, she really did. And it didn't completely erase all her financial worries, but, with this view in front of her and the delicate kisses Harry dotted across the back of her shoulder, she was willing to let those troubles melt away. She could worry some when she went back to real life.

"There we go," Harry encouraged, having caught the way she all but melted into his chest, "You're supposed to have fun this trip, so that's all you're allowed to worry about. I'll take care of the rest, yeah?"

Though she had a response queued up in her head, the entire train of though was ran off track as soon as Harry smeared a line of kisses along the slope of her neck. She wanted to keep her eyes on the view, remember as many details of it as she could, but she couldn't help the way her eyes fluttered shut. Her hands she had wrapped around the railing abandoned post only to lay atop Harry's, fingers curling around his fists with a wiggle to fit them in the gaps between his own.

His smile could be felt loud and clear on the sensitive skin of her throat, long curls sweeping across her skin. "Yeah, baby?"

"Yeah," she sighed, not entirely remembering what exactly she was agreeing, too. It couldn't be too bad if it was Harry's idea, though, that much she knew.

Flipping his hands under hers, Harry properly laced their fingers together before bringing their bundled arms to wrap around (Y/N)'s waist in a hug. "Such a sweetheart, you are," he praised against her skin, the words sinking into her pores and filling her arteries.

After giving her one last squeeze of a hug around her middle, Harry began unraveling himself from around her, though his spell on (Y/N) took its time to wear off. She was still in her dreamy daze when he began tugging her back into the shelter of their suite.

"C'mon, we need to unpack," Harry beckoned to her, leading her away from the breathtaking view.

Even the thought of unpacking their luggage sounded like a dream when Harry said it.

—————

(Y/N) couldn't contain her awe as she looked behind her at the basilica she and Harry had just finished touring through. Even unfinished, the church dominated the bustling street it was planted right in the middle of. It looked as though it didn't belong in this plot of land, the energy too modern and fast-paced for the grand La Sagrada Familia basilica. The towering spires reached high enough that (Y/N) wouldn't be surprised that the very tips could reach the clouds of heaven. The tall structures created large shadows that moved like the arms on a clock around the land it claimed, engulfing areas in cool shade in accordance to the orbit of the sun. The interior of the space was something (Y/N) couldn't believe could be created, let alone made with the amount of detail that followed the legacy of the artist that conceptualized it centuries ago (that was something she learned during the tour, of course). She could without a doubt say she'd never been anywhere like this before; she couldn't wait to tell Sarah and show her all the pictures she took.

"Stay close, angel," Harry murmured, slipping his hand out from hers only to wrap his arm around her waist. She was tucked to his side as she snapped one more photo of the cathedral, catching the grandeur of the building despite the view of the McDonald's arches blinking just behind the structure.

That was the strangest part, (Y/N) decided. While the church controlled every inch of space it was planted on as if it had grown roots and wretched itself inside the earth as much as it had in the sky with it's spires, it was oddly out of place. Everything was too real around it, taking the basilica out of the era it had been designed for, and transporting it to the present with a McDonald's flanking it and a tourist-appealing tattoo parlor that advertised for a ten dollar tattoo special (Harry had rolled his eyes at that one when they walked past, murmuring something about business and art and quality. (Y/N) didn't catch much she could just tell he was grumpy over it).

"Wasn't that so pretty, Harry?" (Y/N) asked, beaming up at him as she grabbed for his hand that wrapped itself around her waist.

He didn't put up a fight as she laced their fingers together, Harry's lips quirking into a smile as he nodded his head. Though his attention was faced forward as he guided them to their next destination for the morning, he spared a glance down at her, "Super pretty. The ceiling was... I don't even know what to call it, I can't believe it was real."

"I know! It felt like the inside of a dream, or a drawing or something—it shouldn't be real."

"And, the stained glass—"

"The stained glass!"

Harry let out a laugh at her bubbled response, her enthusiasm influencing the way she practically bounced with every step towards the brunch spot they had agreed on for the morning. She couldn't help it, really. The biblical scenes depicted in the delicate shards of glass, bathing each step they took through the rows and rows of pews tinted in bright hues brought to life by the sun. There was no way real-life could hold a candle to what she'd seen in only three days since arriving in Barcelona.

She stayed close to Harry's side as he took them to the tapas restaurant that held a brunch special on mornings like these, surely there to appeal to silly tourists like her. Around them, she watched as locals went about their day as if there wasn't the most grand of buildings sitting just across the way from where they stood on their phones, tourists trying to figure out how to get back to their hotel with club clothing cinched to their bodies (even as the exact opposite of a morning person, (Y/N) couldn't believe people were still making that walk back this late in the morning), and others that seemed to be celebrating anything and everything, like she and Harry were.

Even this walk through the orange tinted streets, devisions of houses and apartments broken up only by the most gorgeous of walkways that invited patrons to go down the cobblestones, bright splashes of green plants directing them further down the path. Though the morning was still relatively quiet the further they strayed from the tourist center, the energy buzzing about the space was enough to keep (Y/N) bubbling under her skin. The lack of patrons aside from a few early risers like them, taking advantage of the quiet, helped (Y/N) feel bold enough to spin out of Harry's hold. Her arms were outstretched to her sides, hair fluttering around her face from the braid they escaped from, as she twirled in front of him. She couldn't help the way her eyes shuttered closed with a broad smile on her lips.

"Isn't this the most wonderful da—"

Before she had a chance to finish her bubbling exclamation (the same one she'd shared at least once a day since they touched down in Spain), Harry abruptly bundled her close to his chest again.

"Hold on, baby." His grip was firm as he twirled her back into his arms, just before he made a quick shift in their direction, hiding her in a small alcove under a line of hanging potted plants.

"What?" She hadn't meant to embarrass him, if that's what upset him...

"Angel, I can't believe y'can't feel it," Harry let out with a strained laugh. She watched as his eyes dropped below her collarbones and to the large white linen shirt she was wearing as a dress.

Her eyes widened as she noticed the top two buttons had somehow unfastened, the fabric now bowed open with the lace of her creamy bralette on full display. Even the gold heart charm pinned between the cups was exposed enough to glint in the light of the sun. With the disruption of her twirling and open arms, (Y/N) wouldn't be surprised if Harry had stopped her because her breasts were completely showing, the sheer lace doing her no favors in concealing her nipples. Her skin grew incredibly warm, the heat crawling up her neck and bubbling behind her cheeks.

"Oh."

"Yeah 'oh', silly," he let out on a quiet laugh.

Harry's hands dropped from around her waist, coming up to button up the top two—now offensive—buttons of her shirt. The tips of his fingers made brief grazes across her skin. Despite the warmth heating her skin, (Y/N) felt a layer of goosebumps prickle over her form. Harry's hands stuttered as he finished his job; despite the dark sunglasses covering his eyes, (Y/N) was almost one hundred percent sure that his pupils were dilated behind the lens.

"Sorry," she whispered as he adjusted the fit of her makeshift dress, tugging at the hem and playing with the skewed collar.

"Don't be sorry, baby. I had no problem with that view," a lopsided smile quirked his lips, "jus' didn't think you'd appreciate everyone else seeing all of that."

"Thank you," she smiled. Rising to the tips of her toes, (Y/N) planted a kiss just at the corner of Harry's crooked lips, brushing the sliver of his lip ring.

Turning his head, Harry made a point to catch her in a real kiss. Of course this wasn't the time or place, but (Y/N) couldn't help but indulge in the way he traced the seam of her lips with the point of his tongue. If not for the rumble that came from her stomach, reminding Harry she hadn't had more than one of the pastries for breakfast he picked up for her while she was still getting ready, she'd guess he would have found a way to linger in that alcove for another ten minutes.

"C'mon," he beckoned to her, reaching out his hand of glittery rings and painted nails, "Gotta get y'fed, then we can get distracted."

Now much more reserved, (Y/N) readily tucked herself into Harry's side. Their steps fell in line as he directed them back on course for their brunch spot.

"You know," Harry murmured just for her to hear as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head, "I didn't know y'packed that set."

That heat that had just barely drained from behind her cheeks made a reappearance. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

A hum sounded from above her, his smile clear as the tip of his nose grazed the crown of her head.

"I'll still act surprised later, angel, don't worry."

—————

(Y/N) couldn't help the slight roll of her eyes behind the pastel pink lenses that shaded her eyes. Harry had insisted on carrying everything out of the Uber they had taken to the beach, not allowing her to help with a single item. She was left to wait in the spot he had claimed for them under a yellow umbrella staked into the sand, the pair of them early enough to catch a prime spot before the masses came in.

"Harry—"

"No, darling, I want you to relax." That was the same argument he'd used since they got out of the Uber and the boot was popped only for Harry to weigh himself down with every beach bag and tote they packed. More than one trip was needed, too. "Have y'put any sunscreen on yet?"

"No, I haven't because I've been waiting for you."

Peering at her over the frames of his sunglasses, Harry gave her a very unimpressed look though she could see the quirk of his lips he was fighting off. "Well," he started, dropping the netted bag full of their beach towels onto the sand, "'m here now, so no more waiting. I don't want y'to burn."

Though (Y/N) hadn't been lying when she said she had been waiting on Harry, that was only half of her truth. Underneath her coverup—a fluttery white dress cinched at her waist—was a bikini. (Y/N)'s first bikini.

Growing up, two piece swimsuits were not allowed for (Y/N) under her parents orders, though they rarely ever let her go swimming anyway. Just before they'd left for vacation, Sarah had accompanied (Y/N) on a last minute shopping trip to get a few things she needed which ended with (Y/N) being talked into buying a trio of swimsuits she could barely picture herself in.

They were pretty—each of them shades of pink and cream, featuring small designs that lived in her comfort zone—but nothing could completely save (Y/N) from the anxiety that came with the scraps of fabric. It was different, she decided, when she was shopping for lingerie or anything that would be just for Harry. Here, there were clusters of people beginning to form, having had the same idea as the two of them to get there early enough for a good spot, and she was supposed to prance around in a slightly more functional version of her underwear.

But she liked what she had brought. This particular one she had hiding under her dress was a clean white color with strawberries dotted over the fabric, a red heart piecing together the cups of her top and stationed at the hips of her bottoms. It was cute, Sarah had told her it was very (Y/N), even. When she had snuck away to get dressed in the bathroom, she had felt pretty in the suit—like herself. But that was when she was alone with only the prospect of Harry walking in on her who had seen her in much more indecent circumstances.

Out in the Spanish sunshine, sand sticking to her toes, (Y/N) didn't know if she had the confidence to shed her coverup. Maybe she could hide under their umbrella and watch out for Harry in the water, instead. She did make sure to bring a book, incase...

"Can practically hear y'thinking from here, darling," Harry muttered as he unrolled their towels before flattening them onto the dunes, "What's got you all scrunched up, hm?"

Automatically, (Y/N) shook her head. Strands of hair that had escaped the twist on the back of her head fluttered around her at the motion, seemingly reaffirming that she wasn't scrunched up, as Harry had said.

"Nothing," she told him, shuffling out the way as Harry snapped out her towel to lay just beside his.

"Doesn't seem like nothing if its got y'making your nervous face," he pressed, voice casual as if she should know exactly what her nervous face was.

"I don't have a nervous face," she argued, a pout puffing out her lips.

Harry let out a huff of a laugh at her words. "Yes y'do, darling. So tell me what you're thinking, yeah? Let me know how I can help you."

Though she didn't plan on completely dropping the topic of her nervous face (she knew she was an open book, never having been very good at blocking her emotions from filling her face, but she didn't think it was that bad), (Y/N) was no match against Harry's doting tone. Especially not when he made a gentle show of shielding her from the world around them as he crowded around her, gentle hands on her hips and eyes trained on her.

"C'mon, angel," Harry tried again, reaching up to push his sunglasses up into his hair, "Y'can tell me."

"I don't know," she started, voice barely louder than a murmur, "I'm just nervous."

"About what? You're supposed to be happy on our holiday, what happened?"

(Y/N) floundered for words, trying to make her anxiety sound as serious as it felt to her despite the explanation sounding silly when said out loud. "It's my swimsuit."

"Okay," Harry nodded, his hands on her hips squeezing for a beat as the plastic hearts pressed into (Y/N)'s skin. "What's wrong with it?"

"I've never really worn a two-piece before." Though she knew Harry wasn't one to judge her with even her most fine-tuned insecurities, the jumbled words still managed to bring a warmth to her cheeks.

A beat passed as Harry processed what she told him, his brows pulling together the same way they always did when he had to decipher the best way to care for her in any situation. His eyes grazed down her body before he matched her own again.

"Do y'not feel... pretty in it?" he asked carefully.

A gentle shrug rocked (Y/N)'s shoulders. "I mean, yeah I do, but I don't know. It's my favorite one I bought, but there's people. It's not a big deal wearing certain things in front of you, but it's not just you right now. I don't think I really thought about that when I brought it."

She was able to watch as her words sunk in for Harry, realization pulling his brows apart as if he knew exactly how to navigate this conversation now. Tugging her closer to him, Harry wrapped his arms around her waist, her body now flush against his in the protective hold.

"Y'don't have to take off your coverup if y'don't want to, love," he reassured her, "We can lay under our umbrella all day if y'wanted. But, I think y'would be sad with yourself if y'did that, and didn't show off since this one is your favorite."

(Y/N) could only manage a shrug in response. It was her favorite, but still. "Maybe. It's just weird knowing people can look at all of me."

"Well, not all of you, I'd hope," Harry joked, getting a small smile from her as she shook her head. When she didn't brighten up as much as he had hoped, Harry dropped his head to press a discreet kiss to the full of her cheek. "(Y/N), love," he continued, "I jus' want y'to be comfortable, alright? We'll come back out here a few more times, so if today isn't the day y'want to show off, that's alright. We'll try again next time. I'll be there the whole time, okay?"

(Y/N)'s comfort zone consisted of the arms wrapped around her waist and the dress covering her form, that much she knew. Her easy option would be to just nod her head, tell Harry that today wasn't the day and she planned on lounging under their umbrella with her book while he played in the waves. But, as she had grown to learn over the almost year (only three days away until their anniversary!) that's passed, Harry was the biggest and best support system she could have when trying something new. Just knowing he was behind her in whatever she chose, made her want to go bold.

The warm sand sinking around her toes, the sound of the waves crashing mere yards from her, and the vivid tones painting the beach all around her made for the perfect setting for (Y/N) to pretend to be someone else—a different version of herself that didn't listen to the distant nagging she heard in the back of her mind through her mother's voice. If she tried hard enough, maybe she could replace it with Harry's encouraging tone.

Swallowing, (Y/N) nodded her head as she tried her best to steel her nerves. "I want to try today, I think."

"Yeah?" Harry beamed at her, eyes creasing from the width of his smile. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," she affirmed, "I, at least, want you to see, so I'm going to try."

Harry's smile only waned in favor of puckering his lips and pressing them into the soft of her cheek, just barely grazing the corner of her mouth. "'M proud of you, angel."

His praise sunk into her skin and warmed her more than the sun could ever hope to, the round of her cheek making way for her own curling smile. "Will you help me get my dress off?"

She felt his responding hum more than she could feel it as he grazed the tip of his nose across the height of her cheekbone. "I was hoping you'd ask."

A bubbling laugh finally broke through (Y/N)'s chest as she pushed him away. "We're in public, Harry."

He only shook his head before he turned her around in his arms, telling her to hush. He made quick work of the tie cinching her dress together, the bow unravelling. Just as (Y/N) went to push the straps off her shoulders, intending to drop the bodice and slip the dress down her body, Harry was already ahead of her. His gentle fingertips grazed her skin as he pushed down the straps and helped her shed the dress down her form, his touch catching on the round of her shoulders and the flare of her hips.

As more and more of her body was revealed, the most she had ever shown in public, (Y/N) felt the urge to wrap her arms around herself and cover every bit of exposed skin she could. Goosebumps prickled over her as she fought off the urge, reminding herself of Harry's encouragement over the nagging of her mother's voice. Once the dress had pooled at her feet in a bundle of white, she took a shaky step out. Instinctively, she reached down with a bend of her hips to grab for the garment to stow it away in one of their bags for the time being.

(Y/N) guessed she should have expected to feel Harry's fingers pluck at the waistband of her bottoms before letting them snap against the full of her hips, but the feel still gave her a shock that had her standing stock straight with her free hand shielding her hip.

"Harry!" she scolded him, cheeks burning as she spotted a family nearby beginning to set up camp.

Putting his hands up in surrender, Harry gave her his signature lopsided smile. "Jus' wasn't expecting this, angel, that's all. Couldn't help myself." The dimples in his cheek made him seem a lot more innocent than he really was though it still did enough to get (Y/N) to soften. "'M very happy y'decided to try today."

With his eyes trailing down her form before he managed to slip his sunglasses back down to perch on the bridge of his nose, (Y/N) knew exactly what he was trying to tell her without spelling it out loud for all to hear. Packing away her dress, she grabbed for the bottle of sunscreen tucked at the bottom of the tote.

"I get to help with that, too, right?" Harry asked, his shirt joining her dress in the bag as he pulled it over his head. His eyes dropped to the sunblock in her hand with a little too playful of a smile.

"You're so annoying," she settled on, shaking her head though her complaint softened through her smile.

(Y/N) didn't wait for him before she started applying the cream to her arms and stomach, getting all the areas she could reach while Harry did the same. They were quiet, (Y/N) finally soaking in the fact she was on a beach in Spain for her anniversary, in a two-piece for the first time with the love of her life. Even if he was trying to get a rise out of her, she couldn't believe how happy the thought of being here with him made her.

"Don't forget your tattoo, love," he told her, tapping at her side where just the barest hint of her flower tattoo peeked out of her top.

"Oh, thank you," she murmured, concentrating on covering the leaflet with the cream.

Feeling throughly slicked and smelling of zinc, she turned her attention to Harry as he wiped his hands across his abdomen. The black ink of his tattoos shone under the rays of light that peeked across the barrier of their umbrella shade, sparkling with the help of the sunblock. Seeing him like this, black swim shorts showing off the length of his legs and strength of his thighs, chest bare and hair pulled back, (Y/N) realized she couldn't really blame Harry for getting a little handsy earlier. Standing only a foot away from him half-stripped down, she felt her own urge to trace over his body.

"Did you want help getting your back or anything?" (Y/N) peeped, already stepping forward with full intention of getting her hands on some part of him.

"Would you, angel?" Harry passed off the tube of sunblock without a second thought, (Y/N)'s plan falling perfectly into place.

Biting back a bright smile, (Y/N) all but bounced into position behind Harry. Lathering her hands the sunblock, she reached up to the tip of her toes and swiped her hands down his shoulder blades. Goosebumps raised immediately on Harry's back at the cool temperature of the cream as she massaged it in. His tattoos were animated as he did his own part of applying the sunblock to his arms and chest, reaching down and coating his legs as best he could without disturbing her. The contours of his muscles moved under her palms as she worked it in his skin, fingertips digging lightly into each line and cut as she indulged herself in the runs.

Even when there was no more white cast shining over his skin, (Y/N) couldn't help herself as she was too distracted with the fun she was having to stop caressing her hands over his skin. The details of his tattoos were glistening under the sun, now familiar linework coming alive as he moved, the ink shimmering with the help of the suncream. The gaps between each piece of art were filled with tan skin, dotted with freckles and moles she'd traced when Harry was above her, thighs around his hips.

Why would she stop now, when she could feel his muscles liquifying under her touch, going soft as he allowed her to play and touch as much as she wanted.

"Having fun back there?" Harry asked, a snicker to his tone that brought a warm rush of blood to bubble behind (Y/N)'s cheeks.

"Hm?" she sounded, her hands stilling over his skin.

The laugh he let out caused his back to shake under her hands just before Harry reached around and grabbed for her wrist, "C'mere, cutie." He pulled her around to his front with the gentle grip on her wrist, (Y/N) stumbling in the sand as she followed. "Y'make me laugh," he told her when she came to face him.

His fingers formed gentle restraints around her wrists as he tugged her close. (Y/N) sheepishly looked up at him through the frame of her lashes. "In a good way, right?" she peeped.

A grin stretched over his cheeks in a quiet response. "Always a good way, silly," he murmured, flicking his gaze to the tube still clutched in her hand, "Done with that?"

"I think so," (Y/N) started, barely getting through it before Harry was releasing his hold on her wrists in favor of grabbing for the bottle.

She watched as he flipped the cap open before squeezing out just enough of the sunblock to form a small dollop on his fingers. He abandoned the bottle to fall on top of her pink beach towel under their feet before he murmured for (Y/N) to close her eyes. Just after fluttering her eyelids shut, Harry brought his cream coated fingers to her face. She jolted back at the temperature, drawing a breathy laugh from Harry's lips.

Instinctively, (Y/N) blindly reached her hands out and caught a hold of his biceps so she could tell where he was, as if the grip would steady her through her temporary blindness. The paths of his fingers over her cheeks, tracing along her jaw, and drawing a high line over her cheekbones brought a quiet smile to (Y/N)'s lips despite how hard she tried to school her features.

"What now?" Harry asked, smile evident in his tone as he dotted the cream along the delicate skin of her undereyes.

"Nothing, " she shyly giggled, "just wasn't expecting this."

"Can't have y'burning up, can I?" he countered, brushing his fingers down the bridge of her nose, "Jus' because you're m'lovebug, I don't think you'd like looking like a ladybug already, hm?"

Another peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips as she listened to Harry's musings. "No, doesn't sound fun at all," she agreed, feeling the loss of his warmth as his fingers were lifted from her skin.

She only lingered on that loss for a moment before Harry ducked down, the tip of his nose skimming hers before he pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. Though she still felt a touch of her well-acquainted self-consciousness, knowing that everyone around them could peek in on their intimate moment, she succeeded in pushing those worries to the back of her mind for the time being. A smile even managed to weave its way across her mouth.

"Ready to come play with me?" Harry crooned against her mouth, a lingering kiss being planted on her lips before he reluctantly pulled away.

(Y/N) canted her head as she looked up at him, the corners of her lips turning down in a delicate frown. "Did you already do your face?"

She wanted to do that part.

A quiet laugh fluttered between them as Harry's features bloomed into a smile. "I did, yeah, when y'were busy doing 'nothing' behind me," he teased, reaching for her hand to lace his fingers through, "I'll let y'reapply for me later, yeah?"

Mumbling a quiet okay, (Y/N) nodded her head with a short smile making its way on her mouth. Satisfied with her answer, Harry tugged her along with him towards the shoreline, their shoes kicked off by the small camp they made. Soon enough, the warm sand under her feel turned into wet mush that had her footprints lingering in the expanse.

The same white-capped waves she had spotted from their hotel room, tall and arching, were reduced to ripples by the time they slide across the surface of the shore. Harry lead her further and further out, keeping her close as more and more of their early morning companions joined the fray of the waves.

(Y/N)'s first touch of the water was enough to have her jolting back, a quiet gasp stealing the air from her lungs. "Oh, gosh," she rushed out, looking up at Harry as if to verify he felt the same things.

Instead, she found a beaming smile on his lips, a teasing curl right at the edges. "Cold, angel?"

"Very," she bubbled, the length of her arm stretched out as she danced away from the edge of the stretching wave though she kept her grip on Harry's hand.

"Come back here, silly," he smiled, tugging on her hand gently as the tide rolled back, "Gotta get used to it now if y'want to swim with me."

She couldn't help the way the mention of swimming caused her to bring her lip between her teeth. When they had planned out a few of the 'must-do's' for this holiday, as soon as a beach day appeared on the list at Harry's request, she had shared with him the fact she'd never really learned how to swim. Growing up, she didn't spend lots of time in the water, even during the summer, her parents not seeing much use for it as she had other things to focus on—like prep for the upcoming school year, or tidying the house through the day while they were away at work, or doing nothing fun in general—so she was never put in lessons or went swimming enough to teach herself.

Harry had of course taken the information in stride as he did every other detail he learned about her upbringing, and promised to do his part to help her have fun and feel comfortable in the ocean with him. She figured this was part of her lesson, getting used to the water temperature and wading out further than just up to her ankles submerged in the saltwater.

"C'mere, angel—I've got you, remember?"

Through the pink lens of her sunglasses, Harry was draped in the loving hue of a rose from her perspective. The tan of his inked skin gleamed under the sun, stray splashes of the waves hitting his feet reached up as far as his thighs, adding more dots of light to be refracted across the shore. Though his eyes were concealed by the help of his own sunnies, (Y/N) could clearly imagine the crystalline green that hid behind the lenses, the hue she knew well and could pinpoint on a colorwheel from memory. The same color that looked through her and inside of her for the most brave parts of herself so he could help draw them out. Just as he was doing now.

If he was going to hold up his end of the promise—his vow to be there to teach her and help her out of her comfort zone when it came to the water—she would stick to hers and try. Taking anxious steps, (Y/N) tiptoed through the freezing water before she pasted herself to his side, planning on leeching some of his warmth. Harry murmured something into her hair as he pressed a kiss to the crown of her head while he hooked his arm around her shoulders. (Y/N) was half sure he heard something about her being his brave girl.

"Not so cold anymore, right?" he asked her as he tugged her further into the waves, the water reaching as far as her hips when the tide ran high.

"Kind of," she pouted, still unaccustomed to the temperature if the goosebumps on her skin had anything to say about it.

"Don't be so pouty, darling. This is fun, I promise," he smiled down at her, squeezing as her hip just as it was submerged under the saltwater.

Squeals and giggling screams from kids beginning to frolic in the upcoming waves sounded in her ears, the beach starting to fill with chatter as the sun traced its path in the sky and brought bright beams across the city. Peering over her shoulder, she found their camp was now only one of many; families building castles in the sand with couples having the same idea of lathering their partners in suncream though she figured they looked a lot less PG than she hoped she and Harry had. She even spotted someone competing with the waves as he ran through them with a small foam board held to his chest as he rode it back to the shore.

This was fun, she knew that, this whole beach thing. She just needed to get to the fun part.

The water worked against them as Harry waded them further out, resistance pushing against her thighs though she tried her best to work through it to keep up with him. After a few more feet, (Y/N) found she didn't really want to push any further if the height of the waves approaching them was anything to go by. The water had reached just under her breasts anyway, wetting the material of her top and going as high as her collarbones if the waves stayed strong as they broke.

"C-Can we stop here, please, H?" she rushed out, feeling her voice raise a pitch she hadn't intended to.

Looking down at her, where the water only rose just above the mid of his abdomen, she saw his brows raise just enough over the frames of his sunglasses as he saw where the water hit on her body. "Yeah, we can stop, angel," he reassured her, orbiting around her through the seafoam covered water to stand in front of her, "How are you feeling?"

His hands were especially warm as he grabbed for her hips, his thumbs tracing the heart motifs tying the scraps of her bikini together. "Good," she peeped, trying her best to loosen her smile though she could feel the tight set of her features.

The give of the ocean floor under her feet made her more nervous than anything. One minute it was right here, solid under her feet, toes even sinking into the sand, and a moment later it was gone, as if she had broken the last bit under her weight and was now seconds away from floating aimlessly through the expanse of water. She feared if they had gone any further, not only would she had become submerged if a rowdy wave crashed over her, but she would eventually wade a little too far and have nothing to keep her upright.

Even though the dark lens of his sunglasses, (Y/N) could tell he didn't quite buy her perky answer. "Yeah? Y'feel alright being this far out?" Harry pressed again, waiting for the word then he would take her back to shore in a heartbeat.

"Yeah," she chirped, wishing she had picked a darker set of sunnies so she could hide behind them just as he was. She wouldn't be quite as easy to read if he couldn't see her eyes.

His gaze lingered over her for another beat, the heat of his eyes felt even if she couldn't see the exact path he took over her skin. The waves lapped around them while Harry's grip on her hips tightened. He drew closer with a tentative step, the sand under her feet sinking some as he crowded around her.

"Can I hold you, angel?" he murmured to her, sinking down to her level in the water until she was face to face with his shaded eyes, "I think 'm getting nervous so far out. I don't want to lose you."

Relief pushed through her veins as she gave a quick nod in response. At least now she wouldn't have to sheepishly ask if he would hold her the more scared she became that she would eventually just sink into the ocean floor under their feet—no matter how irrational she knew that fear was. Plus, if Harry was getting nervous, she wanted to help any way she could.

"Yes, please," she bubbled off before she wrapped her legs around his waist under the water with her arms looping around his neck.

With her chest flush against his and her head fit just along the curve of his neck in a water-logged hug, she felt her breathing finally come easy again since wading out in the water. Harry knitted his fingers together at the small of her back as he held her weightless form with the help of the water, his lips dropping a short kiss to the bare of her shoulder. She was practically sat in his lap with the way he was crouched under the waterline to share her height, the elastic waist of his shorts printing into the soft insides of her thighs. The rogue strands of hair that escaped from the clip twisted through the back of her head, floated through the seafoam touched water.

In his arms, the water finally seemed to warm to the right temperature, the goosebumps leaving her skin as she relaxed in his hold. "Are you still nervous, H?" she murmured, the bubbling waves becoming the soundtrack as she spoke only for him to hear.

A gentle shake of his head had his own curling pieces of hair drifting through the water as if in search of her own strands. "Much better, love, thank you," he told her, turning his head jsut enough to press a kiss to the soft of her neck.

(Y/N) stayed just where she was, clinging to Harry's form as she kept up the guise of being there for him as he needed her, the waves lapping around them in quiet crashes. The sounds swirling around her—the waves, Harry's breathing, other beachgoers babbling and laughing away—might have even put her to sleep if she dared allow her eyes to shut while feeling this weightless.

Just as she began to even entertain the idea, allowing Harry to hold her as she napped in the ocean, a larger wave made its way towards them, not breaking until just before it rammed into Harry's back and consequently (Y/N)'s face tucked into his shoulder. Harry spun off balance for a moment, twirling her around in the water with the splashes of water dripping off the lenses of her glasses.

She sputtered around the water that had made it into her mouth, salt landing on her tongue and wetting her nose enough to have her shaking her head as if to rid the water from her skin like a dog.

"Oh, no, angel," Harry murmured, shifting his hold on her to tug her away from his shoulder, careful hands sneaking under her sunglasses to help clean the water from her lashes and clear her vision.

After frantically pushing her hair away from her face, (Y/N) was able to blink her eyes open, expecting to find Harry with a devastated look on his face that she knew she would have if she had seen him get assaulted by a wave like that.

Instead, she was greeted with him biting back a grin, dimples threatening to dip into his cheeks.

"Don't laugh at me," (Y/N) whined, sheepishly already burying herself back against his chest. A heat bubbled behind her cheeks that thankfully would at least warm the water left splashed across her skin.

"'M not laughin—"

"Yes, you are," she argued, feeling her own resolve begin to break when she heard the smile in his voice. It was hard to be upset with him when she knew he was happy.

Adjusting his hold on her, Harry pulled her away from his chest, rearing himself back just enough to get a view of her pouting face. He didn't even try to hide the smile on his face now that he had been caught. "You should've seen yourself, darling," he started, dipping his head down and skimming the tip of his nose against hers as if a puppy's kiss was enough to earn forgiveness, "Y'looked so cute, that's all. Couldn't be all serious when y'were all sputtery."

"You're so mean to me," she complained, all grit lost on the way through her smiling mouth.

"Oh, I am, am I?" he countered, his smile going lopsided as he crowed around her, his grip steeled around her so she could get away.

"Mhm. Didn't even help me when I almost drowned."

Harry reared back, an expression on his face that had (Y/N) expecting him to reach up and clutch his imaginary pearls (he'd left his strand up at the hotel that he was planning to wear for their anniversary dinner in a couple of days). "Did I not wipe your eyes, y'little brat?"

"Maybe," she said, throwing away the comment as if it wasn't a big deal. Her facade wasn't very believable through her beaming smile, but she was having too much fun to stop now. "I'm surprised you even had time to do that since you were too busy laughing at me."

(Y/N) took note of the way his grip loosened on her just enough that she floated back into the water, more of the seafoam finding its way between their chests while Harry formed his own response with raised brows.

"'S not my fault y'looked—"

"Like this?" she asked, bubbling through laughter as she took advantage of the resevoir collecting between them and splashing Harry right in the face the same way she had been.

Droplets formed on the lenses of his sunglasses while bits of the foam stuck to his cheeks before sliding down his neck. Bringing a hand up, Harry wiped away the offending liquid, going too quiet for (Y/N) to feel safe from retaliation.

She giggled against his chest, still clinging to him despite the fact she was sure he was going to give that attack back to her just as bad, if not worse.

"I was only joking when I called you a brat, but I guess I was, right, wasn't I?" he teased, (Y/N) keeping her eyes trained on his hand as he brought back to the surface of the water.

"But, now we're even, right?" She peered up at him with a stiff smile, trying her best to not laugh at the way a bubble of foam had made a home in one of his dimples.

"I don't think so, darling. I think y'got me much worse."

"But, Harry—"

In one swift motion, he unbarred his remaining arm from around her waist and had her spun around in the direction of the shore with a push towards the sand.

"I'll give you a head start before I finish this game y'started, angel," he told her through a playful grin, the threat of a massive splash in her direction coming in the form of a flick of his hand against the surface.

"I was only playing, H," she giggled out as she floated away from him.

"I wouldn't waste your head start, angel. Get out of here before y'only have five seconds instead of ten."

The single raise of his brow above the frames of his glasses had her clumsily running through the water to get away from him.

She knew Harry would take no time in catching up with her, and there was no actual danger in being caught by her boyfriend, but she still felt that adrenaline pumping through her veins. Without even realizing, she had finally joined in on the squealing fun all of the families, and couples, and groups of friends around them had started. The thought made her grin broaden across her lips, even when she could hear the sound of Harry's splashing getting close behind her.

Even when he slammed into her (gently still, of course, never one to take their playing too far), sending them both falling into the water, bubbling seafoam, salt and all, she couldn't help the beaming smile that took home on her features.

—————

"Happy Anniversary, love."

(Y/N) couldn't help the smile that curled her lips as she tried to swipe her lipgloss over her mouth. Harry had insisted on being her 'quiet' audience for the night, watching as she applied her makeup from his view stationed on the ledge of the bathtub. The spot gave him the perfect view into the mirror, catching each of the faces she made as she swiped powders and creams across her face, blending and patting as she went. Until, that view apparently was no longer enough as he abandoned his post and took a much more favorable spot just behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. For a while, he had stuck to his promise of being quiet, knowing she was still a bit sleepy from the nap she took after their morning of exploration, but as soon as he found his voice, he hadn't had it in himself to refrain from mentioning the importance of the date for more than five minutes at a time.

This well wish came accompanied by a dotted kiss to the cuff of her shoulder, the skin exposed by the cut of her dress.

"Thank you, H," she told him through her smile. She found his eyes in the mirror, gaze shaded by the wisps of his lashes and the coat of inky liner drawn across his waterline. The clear green of his eyes were bright against the shadows, making it hard to pull away from his gaze. Even with the heat lingering behind her cheeks, she managed to follow through on the quip that had pinged in her head: "I almost forgot what today was, if you hadn't said anything."

Harry had greeted her with the sentiment when she woke and hadn't relented on relaying the news since. He seemed more excited about today than he had been for his own birthday. She couldn't help but tease him just a little over his inability to quit mentioning the date.

Her remark had earned a pout puffed across his lips that was reflected in the mirror as he pulled away from where he kissed at her shoulder. "Hey," he whined, "'m jus' excited. Why're y'making fun of me, hm?"

"I'm not," (Y/N) bubbled off in a rush, turning in his arms with her tube of lip gloss left behind on the counter. He looked down at her with a point that made her regret her teasing enough so that she reached up to settle her hands on his cheeks, palms warming his skin, "I think it's sweet, I promise. I'm excited, and it makes me happy that you are, too. I was only playing."

When Harry didn't immediately answer, she worried she really had dulled his mood with her joking, taking away some of the excitement he'd been festering. Just as she started running her thumbs across the height of his cheekbones, nails tickling the long lashes that lined the bottom of his eye, Harry slowly melted into a softened smile.

"I know, darling," he crooned to her, his arms around her waist looping into a protective cradle, "I was playing, too, 's alright."

"You're not upset?" Canting her head to the side, she looked up at him with eyes she could feel rounding out.

"No, no," he shook his head, ducking down just enough to nudge his nose against hers in a puppy's kiss, ""We're jus' having fun, that's all."

A quiet 'kay, left her lips before (Y/N) tipped her chin and pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. He smiled into the contact, only a small curl that (Y/N) swore she could taste the happiness from. It was Harry that took control of the kiss, only allowing her to linger over his mouth for long enough to smear the clear gloss that coated her lips across his own. Then, he dotted a small peck on her pout one more time before pulling away.

"Is there anything else y'need to do, or are y'ready to go, angel?" Harry murmured, eyes scanning over her features. He lingered over her cheekbones, the sweeps of baby sweet blush and glimmering highlight on the planes being his favorite parts of her routine.

"I think I'm ready, I just need my shoes and bag." The skirt of her dress fluttered around her thighs as she bounced in her spot, hands dropping from Harry's cheeks to settle on his shoulders.

Harry raised his brows as he began to lead her out of the bathroom, taking her into the living area of the suite where her chosen shoes for the night were already sitting by the loveseat. "Did y'want any help with the ties, or do y'have it?"

Eyeing the laces that laid limply next to the heeled sandals she had found during her final shopping trip with Sarah before leaving for Spain, (Y/N) made a point to drag Harry along with her to the loveseat. "I think I want help. I kept getting everything tangled up when I was practicing at home."

A lopsided smile covered his features as he let out a breathy laugh though he followed her dutifully. Once she was sat on the cushion of the love seat, her blush hued dress fluttering around her legs. Fitting her feet into the soles of her shoes, Harry waited until he was given the go ahead to start lacing up the long pieces of sparkling ribbon that were meant to cross up over (Y/N)'s calf. He made careful work with the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he crissed and crossed the opposite ends of the ribbon until he hit just the midpoint of her calf. That was when he made the impossible task of tying the perfect bow look like easy work.

After giving a once over of his work, he flicked his eyes up to (Y/N), his uneven smile only widening when he saw her already looking at him instead of the lengths of ribbon going up her leg. Raising his brows and tipping his chin, he tried to direct her attention back to her shoes.

"This what y'were thinking? Or did y'want the bow in the back?"

(Y/N) was quick to shake her head at any mention of a revision to his technique. "No, no, I like it like this. I want everyone to see the bow when we're out."

"Yeah?" he smiled, already reaching for the next leg's set of restraints, "I did alright?"

"It's perfect, H," she bubbled, curling her back just enough to match his face from where he crouched at her feet. She wanted to catch him before he was too concentrated to focus on anything other than his task. "Kissy, please?"

"Kissy?" Harry repeated, eyes bright against the black of his liner, "Haven't heard that one in a while."

Before (Y/N) could worry it was silly to bring back something she remembered saying especially well one of the first nights she spent the night at his house, Harry had granted her wish and taken her lips in his. This time, she could tell he wanted to get lost in her the same way she wanted him, the constant attention and affection they were able to hand out to one another since exiting their real lives on this vacation making it hard to go too long without at least a touch or a taste of one another.

Despite the reservations for dinner that he had reminded her of on more than one occasion today, it was Harry that started edging a little further, his hand on her ankle taking a careful path up the length of her leg. His lips were slotted against hers as he worked, the full of her bottom lip tucked between his two as he sucked and kissed at the pillow. Tipping and tilting his head, (Y/N) allowed him to control the range of the kiss, going whatever direction he needed from her to get the most pleasure for the both of them. Absently, his palm pressed against he cuff of her knee, fingertips spanning far enough that the hem of her dress was pushed up by his black-painted fingers.

It was only when she felt the trace of his tongue edging to flit inside her mouth and his hand grazing towards the soft inside of her thigh under her dress, that (Y/N) had to find her voice of reason. "The reservations," she reminded him, voice all but swallowed by him as he didn't dare pull away.

Harry lagged as what she said finally sunk in. The line of his shoulders fell as his kissing slowed. "One more, angel," he murmured, not waiting for a response before he drew her in for another short kiss.

Pulling away only after nudging his nose against hers in an effort to maintain contact with her while he caught his breath, Harry resumed the task at hand reluctantly. The hand that had edged its way up her leg and threatened to push the fabric of her dress aside and whatever flimsy excuse for fabric she was passing off as panties for the night, retraced its steps back down here leg and ended at her ankle where the ribbon lay in wait.

This time, Harry seemed to take his time, reveling in each brush of his fingertips against her skin, lingering over every touch. He smoothed each crossing of fabric, ensuring no wrinkles or weaves interrupted the line of the ribbon. The bow once again came together perfectly over the mid of her shin, matching the other flawlessly. But, Harry didn't release his hold on her ankle, not until he pressed a kiss just above where the bow sat on her skin.

"Thank you, Harry," she smiled at him as he helped her stand from the loveseat, hem of her dress fluttering around her thighs.

Lacing their fingers together, Harry reached for her bag with his other hand, continuing the tradition he had started this holiday of holding everything for her when she would allow it. That was how there were now at least one hundred pictures of she and Harry at various spots across Barcelona, a small, pale pink purse in his hand in each one. He'd joked more than once that at least the accessory matched his nails, as both his ring and pinky fingers were painted with the same hue.

"You're welcome, darling," he smiled, chancing a press of his lips against hers in a much more restrained kiss though (Y/N) still felt a phantom touch of his hand up her leg. "Let me know if they start feeling loose, or anything, yeah?"

"Okay," she peeped, feeling her skin heat even as he pulled away and began leading her out of their suite and out on the Barcelona streets to get to the restaurant for the night.

The air was still warm despite the fact the sun had gone down almost an hour prior as they stepped out onto the pathways that guided pedestrians through the city. The paths had become familiar in the last week they'd spent blending in with the local life as much as they could, (Y/N) beginning to even recognize faces when they went out in the morning for breakfast. This place had began to feel like a different version of home—a much less stressful and warmer version of home, but still enough so that she'd become more comfortable in her skin the longer they stayed here.

Once the marigold colored awning that covered the patio area of the restaurant they had reservations at for the night came into view, (Y/N) spotted sparkling bottles of wine and the near constant rotation of bright Sangria and apple-crisp Sidra shared among the table. She hadn't been brave enough yet to order a drink while they'd been here, but maybe tonight that would change that. She was feeling loose enough already, maybe that would be enough for (Y/N) to finally try the Sangria she'd seen littered with pineapple chunks and orange slices, berries swirling through the bottom of every glass.

"You said that they take passports as a good form of ID, right?" she asked, peering up at Harry as he guided them through the throngs of people joining them on the pedestrian way.

"Mhm," he hummed, his eyes trained in front of them as a long line of what seemed to be a new batch of tourists filed through the street, "Why?"

"I think I want to get a drink tonight," (Y/N) told him quietly, cuddling closer to his side.

"Yeah?" he sounded, a large smile spreading across his lips as he looked down at her, "What did y'want to get tonight?"

"The Sangria looks good, right?" As Harry had been the one to help refine her taste and show her what she liked and taught her what she would want to avoid, she couldn't help but seek out that approval from him.

His smile only broadened at her choice, his attention falling ahead once more once the crowd cleared some and he could escort her across to the open door of the restaurant. Another line awaited them, but Harry didn't seem to worry any as his gaze was immediately fixed on (Y/N) once more.

"You're gonna love that, baby. 'S sweet without making y'sick like those drinks y'got with Sarah that one time," he explained, sounding more excited than she was over the choice of drink for the night.

"Will you share the first one with me, just in case? I don't know how strong it is, so I don't want to have too much."

Tucked away at the end of the line, (Y/N) didn't worry any as Harry dipped his head down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. If anyone saw anyway, they'd only think for a moment about the lovely couple waiting by the checkin table, their love blending in perfectly with the honey-thick sweetness that had clung to (Y/N)'s skin since they arrived in this city.

"Yeah, we can share, love. I'll even let y'have the strawberry they put on the rim."

Though it was a little silly, it was those tiny little things that Harry did and said to her that had made her feel so loved for the last year of her life. He never teased her and indulged her endlessly in many things she knew others would have lost patience over. Looking up at him with his eyeliner so perfect, even more tattoos littering his skin than when they had met, and the natural ringlets of his hair framing his face, her heart felt so full she worried it would burst out of her chest if only to get a chance to hug Harry all on its own.

And this was all only after a single year together.

"Harry?" she asked as they moved up in line, Harry's attention pressed forward at the host checking in and seating everyone.

"Hm?"

"Happy anniversary."

The bright smile that spread across his face and pressed his dimples deep into his cheeks was enough to make (Y/N) feel like a teenager in love.

"Happy anniversary, angel."

—————

(Y/N) hated waking up early anyway, but there was something especially hurtful when waking up on the last full day of their holiday with the sun just barely peeking over the horizon. It was only made worse when she cracked her eyes open enough to see more than the glare of the sun through the open terrace doors, that she was alone in bed, Harry's spot ruffled and empty.

Though she tried to urge herself back to sleep, Harry having planned on this being the day where they traversed through town one last time, stopping at any of the little shops they'd been interested in but hadn't had a chance to browse at, and hopefully ending the night on the beach to watch the sunset. There was nothing urgent calling to them today, so she wanted to sleep and relax for a little longer—which was exactly what this vacation was for. But, when all her attempts only managed to draw her into the half-dream land where everything was a little too real to be soothing enough to fall into a deep sleep, (Y/N) relented with a huff.

Sitting up in bed, the puffs of the hotel comforter fell to her waist in a white pool. Harry's shirt she'd slept in had gone askew in the night, falling off of her shoulder and sitting halfway up her stomach until she sat up straight. With a stretch and sleep-hooded eyes, (Y/N) tried to find where Harry had run off to. The shower wasn't running, and it wasn't like him to leave her to pick up breakfast, especially not without waking her up first. He had to be here somewhere.

Just as she was about to make the drastic decision of leaving the warm cocoon of blankets on the bed, going off to hopefully find him in the living area carved out in their suite, she heard the most wonderful voice to wake up to.

"(Y/N), angel, are y'awake?"

Harry's voice filtered in from the balcony, backed by the faint soundtrack of ocean waves rolling in from the shore. Though it still took great effort to unravel herself from the covers, (Y/N) felt incredibly light as she padded her way out onto the terrace. Peeking out, she found Harry laid out on one of the loungers stationed on the patio, a quilt she recognized as one that had been thrown over the back of the loveseat in the living area was now draped over his lap. His hair was still in the messy ringlets they had fallen into after their joint shower the night before, long and grazing his shoulders.

"There y'are," he smiled at her, beckoning to her with open arms. (Y/N) practically skipped to his position, making a home in his lap while Harry stretched the quilt over both of them once she settled. With her on his chest and her thighs astride his hips, his arms wrapped around her waist under the blanket, Harry pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I was jus' about to go wake y'up myself, started missing y'too much."

"Sorry," she mumbled into his neck, feeling her body melt into his. Everything around her—the emerging sun, the sound of the waves, the solid warmth of Harry's chest underneath her—urged her to loosen her muscles and bask in the moment. She wished she could stay right here forever.

"Don't have to be sorry, cutie. 'S not your fault I need y'so much," he smiled into her hair, another kiss being pressed to the crown of her head before she felt him turn and squish his cheek against the same spot.

A sleepy smile made its way on her face, one she hoped he would be able to feel against the column of his throat. "I don't want to leave, Harry. Can we stay?"

A hum rumbled his chest underneath her own, his throat bobbing. "I think we could do that," he mused, "Don't know how I'd keep tattooing back home if we lived here, but I'd figure something out."

"Yay," she quietly cheered, her heart thumping at the fact he was willing to indulge her over something so silly.

"You've had fun, though, baby? Good holiday?" he asked her, his arms tightening around her form as he sunk deeper into the lounger, bringing his knees up behind her into a cradle.

With the new position, (Y/N) lifted herself form the home she made against his neck, her chest pressed to his as she folded her arms along the line of his pecs. Resting her chin on her folded arms, (Y/N) looked to him with affection seeping through her sleepy gaze.

"Really, really good, H. I had so much fun with you," she murmured, basking under the attention he doled out to her in the form of bright green eyes and strong arms wrapped around her form.

"We should do this again then, yeah?" he whispered to her, a crooked smile molding his features.

(Y/N) immediately brightened at the idea of going on another getaway with him like this; days of nothing to worry about but how much more love her heart could take before it might burst. "Can we?" she bubbled, wiggling some in his lap.

"Jus' tell me where, and I'll make it happen, baby," he promised to her.

Before (Y/N) could formulate any kind of response around the fluttering of her heart, Harry further distracted her as his grip shifted. His arms that had been around her waist flitted over her body, palms tracing her sides before he settled them on her cheeks. He cradled her face gently in his grip, (Y/N)'s mouth falling into a petite gape as he brought her close to him. Harry met her halfway, pressing his lips to hers in a firm kiss.

This was the only proper way to wake up, (Y/N) decided as she lent into his kiss. Harry was the perfect guide, being the one that controlled where they went with this kiss, (Y/N) only having to lay there and pliantly go along with what he decided for them. Her hands that had been bundled between their chests drifted to grab at his shoulders, tufts of his shirt becoming entangled in her grip. Slotting their lips together, (Y/N) was allowed a taste of the same mouth she had dreamt of through the night. Despite the fact she had some of him almost every day (it would have been every single day if not for the fact she sometimes was too tired to do anymore than cuddle after their full days), she couldn't seem to have enough of him. How was she supposed to go back to real life where she couldn't just pull Harry away to come back to their villa and make out with him until her heart's content?

Just as much as (Y/N) couldn't get enough of him, Harry's want for her was clear as he kept her mouth sealed to his as he tilted and turned his head to draw her deeper and deeper into the contact. It wasn't until the tip of his nose skimmed the apple of her cheek as he turned his head that (Y/N) felt the first pass of his tongue over her bottom lip. The breathy moan that left her mouth was Harry's cue to keep going, to kiss her harder and love her more.

When she felt the first slide of his tongue over hers, (Y/N) couldn't help the way she wiggled in his lap, hips rolling over his. Harry sucked a breath in through his teeth, a hiss escaping his throat as she pushed her bottom back against he bulge of his cock. Though her core pressed primarily against the bottom of Harry's stomach, the blocks of muscles felt through the hem of her top and the one stretched over his middle, she could tell he skipped wearing boxers under his sweats with the way the head of his cock nudged at the full of her rear.

"Harry—"

"I know, angel, I know," he mumbled against her kiss, "Can't help myself; you're too pretty on m'lap letting me kiss you, 's not fair."

(Y/N) was drawn into his lips once more after he finished his whispering to her, the taste of his affection lingering on his tongue as he brushed it across hers. Knowing that he was worked up, the evidence of which sitting just behind her, (Y/N) felt breathless now with every smear of his lips over her own. Though it had only been less than twelve hours since they had been in a similar position, the suite bed showing the details with the ruffled sheets and her panties littering the floor, she couldn't help the pull in her tummy at the idea of going again with him.

"Sit up for me, angel," he told her, breaking away from her kiss with a breathless voice. His hands that acted as anchors on either side of her face dropped to the curve of her waist, steadying her as she shakily sat up on his lap.

Her lips were kiss-swollen and eyes glossy, that much (Y/N) knew as she gazed down at him, already missing his mouth. Just as she was about to whine over as much, Harry shifted under her, his hands keeping her steady as he moved to lay with his cock under her soft, bare core, the weight of which pressed into her budding clit. Her eyes fluttered involuntarily, lashes tangling as she felt a moan work its way through her chest. The breathy whine fell from her lips in a quiet call of his name, mixing with the sound of the waves as Barcelona slowly awoke around over their terrace.

Settling her hands flat against Harry's stomach, (Y/N) fought to keep her eyes from hooding even as she felt her pussy split open as Harry grew harder underneath her. There was something about when they played in the morning that made her especially sensitive, close before she even had a grasp of just how tight the coil in her tummy had grown.

"Should we—we're outside," she stumbled out, her fingertips gently denting into his skin through his shirt.

"I know, angel," he crooned, his hands on her waist squeezing in a gentle hold, "'s alright, though, yeah? Already comfy and everything, don't need to move."

"You don't think anyone is gonna see us?" she peeped out, beginning to feel a bit exposed now that she could hear the beginning of footsteps as tourists like them flocked to the beach for the sunrise, just as she'd heard for the last two weeks. They weren't the only ones awake anymore.

Harry shook his head, lush curls haloing his head as they splayed across the lounger. "Jus' us up here," he soothed her, "We'll need to be a little quiet, won't we?"

Part of staying in one of the villas towards the top of the building, allowed for much more privacy in terms of neighbors, something (Y/N) didn't realize she was so grateful for until then. As much as she felt out of her element out in the open air, bare pussy pressed against Harry's cock, and the city waking around them, she didn't want to leave this moment. The draw of her love washed under the buttery glow of the rising sun was stronger than the need to burrow under the sheets with him. It couldn't be much worse than having sex with the terrace doors open like they had been every night, anyway.

"Is it okay if we stay out here, angel?" he murmured to her, grabbing her attention again, "You know I won't stop you if y'want to take me inside."

"Yeah, yeah," she bubbled off with a nod, feeling a different kind of fire in her tummy now that she was decided, hands fisting at the fabric of his shirt under her palms, "I want to stay here, please."

The satisfied grin that molded his features made a heat settle behind (Y/N)'s cheeks, knowing exactly what he had to be thinking behind the receding green of his eyes that made way for blown pupils. "Think you'll be able to stay quiet then?"

"I might—" (Y/N) cut herself off just as Harry rolled his hips upwards underneath her, her words choking off into a breathless moan. The ridge of his head had pressed perfectly into her clit, pushing a shudder down her spine and the coil in her stomach to ribbon into a tight bow. If he wasn't careful, a couple more rolls of his hips like that, and she'll be coming apart from nothing other than some well-placed grinds into her softness.

"Y'might what, darling?" Harry asked, sounding a little too satisfied to be fair considering how close to the edge (Y/N) was lingering.

"Need help," she swallowed, "staying quiet." She willed herself to stay upright though all she wanted was to press herself against his chest again.

"I can do that for you," he mused, dropping his eyes down her form until he found the split in of her legs where his hips laid between, "I need y'to do something for me first, though."

The eager nod she gave him had her sleep-mussed hair fluttering around her face.

"Take me out, yeah?" he told her, hooded eyes flicking up to her face for just a moment before returning to where she was straddling him, "'M ready for you, angel, jus' need y'to let me inside."

Shifting over him, (Y/N) followed his instructions with eager hands, fingers fumbling as she pulled at the waist of his sweats. The elastic band gave way to her grabbing fingers quickly, more of his skin exposed with every tug. The thatch of trimmed hair at his base was the first part revealed just before she pulled his pants down enough that his cock bobbed against the flat of his stomach. The first bit of precum bubbled at his slit, pearling in the morning sunlight. If not for the sensitivity aching between her thighs, she would have argued for a moment to fit in him her mouth. She would have to save that for tonight instead.

Goosebumps raised over his skin when (Y/N) wrapped her fist around his shaft, the vein on the underside throbbing at the contact. A quiet hiss fell from Harry's lips as he watched her, doing his part in bundling her shirt up against her waist as she hovered above him.

"Ready for me, love?" he asked her, sounding strained as he kept his eyes fixed on her pussy.

"Uh-huh," she affirmed, feeling breathless with just a touch of his head against her clit, wetness seeping from her that threatened to drip onto the grey sweats she'd just pulled down.

He was quiet as he fit his bottom lip between his teeth, his grip on her waist steadying her as she sunk her hips down over his length. The heat of his gaze was pinned directly where he disappeared inside her, a slick sound filling the air between them as he popped inside. (Y/N) felt that lingering self-conscious heat fill her cheeks at the prospect of someone overhearing, but that thought was brushed aside just as she felt the curve of Harry's prick brush agains the soft-spongy bit of her fluttering walls. Her spine stiffened at the graze, her insides clenching around him involuntarily.

"Fuck," Harry murmured, the curse coming out on a breath that that pulled from his lungs, "N-Need help, love?"

His hands on her waist pulsed as if to remind her he was still there, but (Y/N) shook her head, her hand settling on the flat of his stomach as he bottomed out inside her. Her clit was pressed tightly against the base of his cock, the dark curls trimmed around the base ground gently into the bud as she gave a slight roll of her hips. Her walls became a snug home around his length, stretching and fluttering at the feel of every ridge and vein.

Her focus then shifted to keeping quiet as the rest of the world faded around her, having to remind herself that it isn't just the two of them in the terracotta hued city of Barcelona. No, she had to remember that she couldn't moan and whine for him as she usually did, no matter how much she wanted to.

Looking down at Harry, that focus took the backseat as she took in the way he looked up at her with his hooded green eyes and the part of his lips. He looked breathless already just watching her, soaking in the fact she had sunk herself down on his lap, soft thighs cushioning his hips that only paled in comparison to the snug, soft walls hugging his cock.

"Look so pretty, baby," he praised her, voice a low rumble, "So fucking pretty sitting on m'cock."

She keened at the compliment, giving her first real roll of her hips over his. A quiet smile took over her face, eyes falling closed, as she rolled her neck back with her features facing the sky. "Thank you," she peeped, aware of her volume.

A breathy laugh sounded from under her, though it was quickly cut off as she lifted herself from his length before sinking back down. Bringing her hand to her mouth, (Y/N) muffled the moan that fell from her lips, only a whine seeping through.

"Fuck, do it again, angel. Start bouncing on me." Harry's encouragement crashed over her like the waves sounding behind her, wrapping her in a kind of warmth that still sent a shiver down her spine.

That was all she needed to hear before she started her rhythm, straining her thighs as she rode him on the terrace in Barcelona. Her breathing came in coordinating pants, as if with every drop of her hips the length of his prick pushed the air out of her. Her clit was smeared against the base of his cock every time he bottomed out inside her, her walls pulsing with every touch and grind. She kept her hand stationed over her mouth, a rudimentary lid to cover every moan that seeped from her chest, while the other stayed steady on his chest to give her leverage.

"Y-You're so deep, H," she peeped, voice muffled though she was unable to keep the words from tumbling off her tongue.

The satisfied smile that Harry directed towards the sky, hooded eyes gazing at her with silken lust, she knew she heard exactly what she said no matter how muffled. "Yeah, love? Am I here?"

His hand that had been stationed at her waist, helping keep the hem of her top from falling over the view of where they were joined, shifted over the soft of her stomach. As she bounced atop his lap, his thighs a cradle behind her, Harry pressed his hand against her tummy, eyes dark and pupils blown as he watched the trail of his hand.

When he pressed at just the right moment, her clit pressed tightly against him and his cock deep inside her, she could feel the pressure coming from the outside. A loud moan she had no hope of concealing fell from her lips, eyelids melting to a close. "H-Harry," she whined, knowing she should feel embarrassed at her volume but not having the mind to compute anything other than the pleasure rushing through her veins.

(Y/N) could feel his thighs tense from behind her, his cock twitching against her snug walls. He was close, too, she could tell. The flush that worked its way up his chest had just begun to seep into his neck, coloring the inked roses on his skin the same rosy hue. A vein bulged in his neck as he strained to keep himself quiet and in control.

"C'mere, c'mere," he beckoned to her, his arms coming to loop around her waist as he tugged her down, "Are y'close, baby?"

Nodding her head with a whine of uh-huh, uh-huh, she clumsily fell into his chest, desperate to feel more of him. She made a home in the curve of his throat, fitting her face against it as she fought to muffle her noises against the skin. The bouncing of her hips was reduced to lingering rolls and grinds, her clit perpetually pressed against the base of his cock with every push. Her now free hands took advantage of the skewed hem of his top, fitting themselves underneath it in an effort to touch his bare skin she had missed in their clothed state.

From the new position, Harry took over as he thrust his hips upwards, pushing his length through her fluttering walls. He barely reared back with every pull, but with every short thrust (Y/N) swore his head nudged deeper and deeper. His breath came in heavy pants above her, the air warm like the sun's rays that had begun to beat down over them as the morning came to fruition.

"Oh, gosh, Harry," (Y/N) whined when he gave a particularly long grind against her, both his cock pressing into her soft walls and his base smearing over her clit. Absently, her nails sunk into the blocks of muscle that made up his stomach, denting the flesh. Her thighs grew shaky as they were folded on either side of him, her muscles tensing and releasing.

Harry jolted underneath her, his hips stuttering as his prick twitched inside her. His arms wrapped around her waist were tight, keeping her atop him despite the rocks of his hips. "Wh-Where do y'want m'cum, angel?"

(Y/N) felt his voice—the wavering of his tone and bob of his throat—more than she heard him with the way her face was pressed into his neck and his chest was flush against hers. "In-Inside, please."

A mumbled curse made its way out of Harry's mouth as he took in her response, his hips starting a new, faster rhythm. "Need y'to cum with me then, 'kay? Not gonna finish inside y'unless you're with me."

"I'm so close, H, I-I can't wait," she whined, eyes squeezing shut with her lashes fluttering against his skin.

"Ye-Yes, y'can," he told her, voice deep and rumbling, "One more minute, then we can cum together. Jus' hang on for on-one more minute, baby, then I'll cum inside you like y'want."

Though she wasn't sure how she was going to do it, (Y/N) nodded her head against his neck, promising to hold off until she was ready for no other reason than to please him. The closer and closer she was brought to the edge with every roll against her clit and push of his cock through her snug walls, (Y/N) had to remind herself to hold off, that if he wasn't at the edge with her, she couldn't be there. Her muscles grew tight as she urged herself to keep the ribbon in her tummy from unraveling. Her breathing grew strained as she was forced to pace herself, though she unable to think of anything other than the pleasure prickling through her system. The more she concentrated on staving off, (Y/N) found herself losing herself in the pleasure of Harry all around her—even he press of his chest as he breathed and the bars of his arms around her waist were becoming aphrodisiacs.

"Hang on, (Y/N), jus' a little longer. I can feel y'tightening up, jus' wait for me," he interrupted her, his words being gritted out through a locked jaw.

"I can't, I can't," she shook her head, feeling the ribbon in her tummy begin to tighten into a familiar bow that wasn't a good sign if he was farther off than her.

"You can, do you hear me?" A particularly hard thrust of his hips punctuation his words. "Jus' one more second, baby. Be good for me."

(Y/N) wanted to answer him, tell him she was going to be good for him just like she always was, that she loved him, but every sentiment died in her throat as he ground himself against her. The roll of his hips pushed the head of his cock against her farthest walls, her insides clenching around him just as she was sure he wanted.

"Kiss me, angel," Harry murmured, already slipping one of his hands through the back of her hair and pulling her up to face him.

The second he smeared his lips against her, (Y/N) felt her body melt, unable to keep the handle on the shaky control she had curated. A moan of his name was pushed against his mouth that Harry happily swallowed, tasting her affection on his tongue. She unraveled around him slowly at first, her control slipping and slipping through her grasp until she felt Harry's own body tense underneath her.

He joined her in falling over the edge with a breathy moan into her mouth, his own dropping into a gape as his eyes stayed clenched shut. (Y/N) pressed her forehead against his, her breathing coming out stunted as she forced herself to stay quiet as she came around him. The feel of Harry cumming—warm ropes painting her fluttering walls, seeping put from around him as he continued the stilted grinds of his hips—only spurred her on, her hips matching his in gentle rolls.

"Harry," she whispered, nose nudging his as she urged him to kiss her again.

Through the blinding warmth that both shocked and released her muscles, she felt a point of clarity as Harry pressed his lips to hers. The sliver of his lip piercing was enough to anchor her to the moment as she slowly began her descent back to earth, finally catching the slick sounds that were coming from their terrace with every rock of Harry's hips. Aftershocks riddled her body as she waited for Harry to float down with her, the first sign coming when he managed to press his lips against hers in a clumsy kiss just as the final spurt of his cum finished inside her.

His breathing came in heavy passes through his nose as he kissed her, lips slick against hers. "I love you, (Y/N)," he told her, the sticky sweet sentiment sweeping over her mouth and warming their kiss.

Pulling away, (Y/N) searched for Harry's hooded eyes, the green in them slowly returning, "I love you, too. So much, H."

A slow smile spread over his kiss-swollen lips then, the sound of their love being soundtracked by the ocean waves and the city beginning to bustle just below their balcony. (Y/N) fell back against his chest, his neck becoming her pillow as she cuddled against him, still finding her way out of the haze she found herself in this morning. Harry, having unlaced his fingers from her hair, reached towards the quilt that had laid forgotten just behind (Y/N)'s bottom, pulling it over them as they cuddled under the morning sun.

Silence settled over them, Harry occasionally pressing his lips to the top of her head.

"Feeling good, baby?" he asked her, voice even for the first time since she crawled on his lap.

"Really good," she smiled, chancing a delicate kiss against the column of his throat, "Are you happy?"

A quiet laugh filtered through the strands of hair he had buried his nose into. "'M really happy, angel."

Her hands that still sat under his shirt drifted, her fingers massaging over the skin she knew she had dug her nails into in the heat of the moment. She could feel Harry's smile against the crown of her head as he shifted underneath her, seemingly beginning to sit up. For a moment, (Y/N) felt a blurt of panic at the movements.

"Wait, wait," she stopped him, her hands on his abdomen gently pushing him to stay laying down on the lounger.

"What's wrong, angel? I was only taking y'inside to clean up," he explained, (Y/N) able to hear the concern in his voice and picture the furrow in his brow she knew would be pinching his features if she peeked.

"Can I... Can we stay like this for a minute? I don't want to leave yet." Her murmured request was so quiet, she worried he wouldn't hear her. Despite the way she could feel his cum beginning to seep out of her, his softening cock making way for their mixed wetness to leak, she didn't want to get up and ruin the magic of their final, pure morning on holiday.

Harry's response lagged for just a moment before she felt his arms tighten around her and his lips once again kissing at the top of her head. "Okay," he relented, his audible smile now replacing the concern, "We'll stay right here, yeah?"

He settled underneath her, allowing her to sink into him with the length of his cock keeping her full in a way she didn't realize could be so comforting even without lust addling her brain. With his arms around her, she didn't feel a lick of the same self-consciousness she knew would be plaguing her if they were in a similar situation back home, his hold protecting her from more than she was sure he realized. (Y/N)'s eyes fluttered closed as she cuddled into him, taking in everything that made this moment so perfect. She didn't want to forget a single moment of this.

"Darling?" Harry murmured, breaking her from the half-sleep state she had begun to fall into.

"Hm?"

"When we go home," he started, sincerity running underneath his tone, "how would you feel about looking for a place with me?"

A furrow pinched at her brow as she processed his words. "Do you and Mitch not like your house anymore?"

A laugh rumbled his chest and shook her from where she laid atop him. "Will y'look at me for a second, baby? I know you're warm, but I need to see you."

He was right, she was warm, which made the task of unpeeling herself from his chest a harrowing one as far as (Y/N) was concerned. Her brows were still pinched in a furrow as she looked at him, stationing her hands on the flat of his chest muscles while he looked at her with clear green eyes.

"The house isn't the problem, angel," he told her, "but, our lease is up in a few months, and we've talked about whether or not to renew. I told him I wasn't sure, because I was wondering if you would want to move in with me. Find our own place and everything."

(Y/N) felt herself grow speechless as she realized what he had initially asked. He wanted to live with her; he was willing to give up having his best friend as his roommate, and instead take on a new home with her. He'd thought about this long enough that he'd even told Mitch he wasn't completely on board with signing the lease again.

"You want to live with me?"

"I do." Harry's certainty never wavered.

Maybe it was silly (she was sitting on his lap, cock still inside her on the balcony of their hotel room), but (Y/N) couldn't help the sheen of tears that gathered in her eyes.

"Oh, Harry," she sighed, dropping down to his chest and looping her arms around his neck.

A smattering of kisses was delivered to his face—chin, cheeks, forehead, and nose all feeling her love. Peals of laughter fell from his lips as he took in all of her affection. "Does this mean you're saying yes?"

"Of course it does!" she bubbled off, pressing her lips to his in an innocent peck, "You want to live with me!"

Another round of laughter was breathed against her kissing lips as it worked its way out of Harry's chest. "I do," he repeated, "Tired of taking y'back to that apartment. I jus' want to take y'home with me every night."

The blooming grin on (Y/N)'s features kept her cheeks warm and eyes creased as she pulled back just enough to look at him again. "We'll start looking when we get back home?"

"If that's what y'want."

Taking him in, clean of his dark eyeliner but still as heartbreakingly pretty as the first time they met, (Y/N) couldn't even attempt to regulate her heartbeat. His words back at his mom's house were recalled in that moment as he glowed under the buttery rays of the sun: his plan was to move in with her, then he wanted to propose. (Y/N) didn't even think before her answer came tumbling out though her smile.

"I do."

—————

this has been in the making for SOOOOOO long this vacation moment was first brought up in one of the first blurbs I did for aster and im so happy I finally got around to putting it together like I wanted!! thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! please lmk if you have any requests or ideas of your own!

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