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dawngyu · 5 days ago

Note

she really worked soooo hard to finish this tonight... SHE LOVES SPOILING PPL!!

Ohmygoshwhereisthe7thchapter IM GOING FERAL WANTING TO KNOW WHAT GYU TEXTED TAEHYUN

right hereee! this part got so long LOL

part six / part seven

(wc: 9.8k / warnings: more crying and arguments, making outttt, manipulation kinda, gyu reeks of desperation, fingering, loss of virginity!!!!!, cheating, unprotected sex�� sorry, pull out method… sorry, gyu is emotionally constipated)

“imagine my shock when i saw your name finally appear on my phone screen again,” taehyun laughs. he was quick to pick up beomgyu’s call, and maybe that speaks to how much taehyun’s missed him, but beomgyu doesn’t care as much as he probably should.

“my bad. i’ve been busy,” beomgyu says. he mindlessly plays with the strings of his hoodie, fidgeting out of boredom.

“what’s up?” taehyun asks.

“right now? not much.”

taehyun hums. “so what finally inspired you to call?” his tone is light, but beomgyu knows taehyun better than that. there’s a little bit of hurt behind his words. beomgyu probably would’ve felt bad for that a couple months ago, but he can’t bring himself to pity taehyun now. he has everything beomgyu wants—there’s no reason to feel sorry for someone who already has it all.

“your girlfriend asked me,” he answers.

“oh,” taehyun says. his surprise is mild, but definitely apparent. “how come?”

“she thought we should talk more.”

taehyun laughs a little. “it’s cute that she cares about our friendship.”

“yeah.” beomgyu wraps his hoodie string around his finger. their friendship, which was once so valuable. the years of laughter they’ve shared, the random calls at midnight asking for a ride, the times they’ve saved each other from stupid little things, the deep conversations that changed beomgyu’s life. it should mean more to him, but it doesn’t, and he almost wishes that it frustrated him more. his heart refuses to care about anything but you.

“what’s kept you so busy recently?” taehyun asks.

touching your girlfriend. trying to convince her to leave you. other explanations beomgyu shouldn’t say.

“i’ve been hanging out with y/n,” beomgyu answers. taehyun probably thinks beomgyu’s joking, but his laugh is tense and forced nonetheless.

“that makes two of us,” taehyun says. beomgyu bites his tongue. an ugly feeling rises all the way up to his throat, and it’s all he can feel.

“yep.”

it’s quiet for a few seconds.

taehyun clears his throat and starts up again, “yeah, she’s fun. i’m going out with her later.”

“nice.” beomgyu doesn’t sound rude, but he doesn’t sound quite interested, either.

there’s another tense pause. beomgyu wonders if taehyun’s catching onto anything at all yet.

“what do you guys even do when you hang out?” taehyun asks. seems like he’s getting a little shaken up. beomgyu would be a little smug about it, but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s still the loser in this game. sure, he gets little pieces of you physically, but taehyun has you entirely—heart, mind, soul, body soon enough. a bitterness spreads through beomgyu’s chest.

“ask her yourself,” beomgyu says. “you’re hanging out later anyway.”

a really selfish, mean part of beomgyu feels so gratified finally getting to plant these seeds into taehyun’s head. he can imagine taehyun’s thoughts right now, the images that are conjuring up. he bites down on a smile, excited that he’s finally letting his feelings breathe a little. bottling it up only makes things worse anyway, so this is a good thing, really.

“is everything, like, alright, dude?” taehyun asks.

not really. things probably won’t ever be alright unless beomgyu can get you to leave taehyun. “don’t worry about me,” he says.

“okay, you’re just being kind of weird. no offense.”

alright—well that makes beomgyu a little upset. weird feels like an insult here. before he can speak, taehyun continues, “i don’t really get what you’re insinuating between you and my girlfriend.”

beomgyu has a choice here: he can be peaceful and just drop the topic, or he can add fuel to the fire and risk everything. he knows how bad you’d want him to keep the peace—he can practically see your pleading eyes asking him to shut the hell up—but danger is addictive and beomgyu loves toeing the line and testing every limit.

“ask her,” beomgyu says again. he keeps his tone flat enough to avoid any arguments. as awful as it is, it feels so good to get the tiniest piece of this off his chest. honestly, he’s within his right; he had you first, and he’s still having you now, so your boyfriend might as well know that he’s got competition.

it’s quiet for a minute. maybe taehyun’s biting his tongue. beomgyu knows very well that taehyun isn’t an idiot, and they’ve known each other long enough to recognize when a silence is tense.

“i’m gonna go now,” taehyun says, not sounding mad—not sounding like much at all, really. he’s always been good at holding back his feelings when he needs to. “i’ll talk to you later.”

“yeah, see you,” beomgyu says. the phone hangs up.

maybe saying that stuff to taehyun was as stupid as it was petty, but it was only a matter of time until something happened anyway. a childish, rotten part of beomgyu feels satisfied knowing that you’ll talk to him again if taehyun says something to you. you’ll come to beomgyu’s apartment or have him go to yours, and you’ll be so upset, just crying on and on about how he’s ruined everything, but you’ll still need someone to comfort you, and beomgyu will be happy to do so.

he’ll be happy to kiss away your tears, to cling onto your hands and beg you to let him make things better. he hates seeing you so sad, but this one time he can indulge in it. he especially hates being the one to get you all upset, but if it means he gets to be the one to make you feel alright again, then he has to do it. it’s the only way he feels alright these days.

so he waits, and a couple of boring hours pass before he hears from you. it’s like he knew right when you were about to text him, cause he sees your message immediately when you send it.

[y/n] we need to talk

your words should strike fear in his heart, but all he feels in his chest is a flutter. his brain is quickly becoming a useless thing; his heart eats away any reason or logic it may have.

he’s rushing to text you back, frantic fingers flying across his keyboard.

[beomgyu] okay

[beomgyu] ur place?

you only take a few seconds to respond.

[y/n] yeah, just come now

beomgyu wastes no time in running out the door. he could be flying too close to the sun, but he doesn’t care. he won’t feel the heat until he’s burning alive.

you’re quick to open your door when he knocks. “hi,” beomgyu greets, a little out of breath. your face is stone, and you don’t say hi back. you stare at him for a long while. it gives him the chance to stare at you, too.

“are you just gonna stand there?” you ask. beomgyu blinks out of his stupor.

“no,” he says dumbly, shaking his head a little and finally stepping inside. “sorry.”

you shut your door and sigh, and it takes you a few seconds to look at beomgyu. he almost worries that it’s because you can’t stand looking at him anymore.

he waits for you to say something. maybe you’ll tell him you hate him. maybe you’ll demand he steps out of your life forever and force him to watch you choose taehyun for good. he thinks, though, that he might be able to convince you to let him stay. he knows you’re soft and spineless, and he knows you want to be a good person so bad, but no matter how hard you try, you’re better off not being with taehyun—you’re better off being only beomgyu’s. it’s a truth that he believes in as strongly as some might believe in god.

“do you have something you want to tell me?” you finally ask.

he looks between your eyes, and he’s sure you already know. there’s no point in saying it himself besides to just let you hear it from his own mouth. he almost says it anyway.

“do you?” he asks instead. he can’t tell if it’s disappointment that flashes on your face or if his mind is just making things up.

“yeah,” you answer.

“then say it,” beomgyu urges, and it sounds more like a beg than it does a command. you look away for a second, as if you can’t compose your thoughts when your eyes are on beomgyu. your gaze is fiery when it returns to him.

“you piss me off so much.”

if you thought those words would hurt beomgyu, you’re wrong. he doesn’t bother asking why you’re mad; that would just be an extreme display of stupidity, and it would only serve to piss you off more.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes hollowly.

“no you’re not,” you say. “you told taehyun about us.”

he doesn’t want to be annoying, but his response definitely comes off like it: “not really.”

“yes, really!” you argue. you scrunch your brows like he’s being impossible. “why would you do that to me?”

“why do you do this to me?” he counters.

“what? let you do whatever you want with me cause you know i can’t say no to you? yeah, how dare i,” you spit.

“you’re treating me like i’m your side piece! i am your side piece!”

“like you’d want anything more!”

“i do!”

“like what?” you ask incredulously. “to fuck me? that’s all you want. it’s the only reason you stick around.”

“no it’s not,” he insists.

“then why else?”

“you know why.” he saw it in the way you tried to let him down easy when he found out you were dating taehyun. you have nothing to say to him; must be because you don’t want to admit the truth or to play dumb and force him to say it.

beomgyu starts again, “what did taehyun say?”

you sigh, and he can see the fight leaving you. “he asked if there was anything going on between me and you.”

some sort of pride swells in beomgyu’s chest. “and you said..?”

“that there was.” he’s surprised at your honesty. he doesn’t know if he expected you to lie. you correct yourself before he can gloat, “that there kind of was.”

a bitter feeling stirs inside him. “hooking up is more than kind of something,” beomgyu says.

“yeah, well…” you start, but struggle to find a defense. “that’s what i said.”

“okay, then what?” he asks.

“he told me everything will be fine. we didn’t linger on it.” you get quiet, but beomgyu can tell there’s more to it than that.

“that’s it?” he’ll be incredibly disappointed and frustrated if that’s all that happened.

“well, he told me not to see you again,” you finally say. beomgyu immediately takes a step towards you, as if the thought of putting space between him and you was impossible.

“so then why am i here?” he’s a fighter. he’s not backing down. you look like you’re about to burst into tears.

“cause we needed to talk,” you answer.

“no,” he says. “why am i here?”

“cause i wanted to yell at you.”

“that’s not true though.”

you frown. “no. i wish it was.”

he tries again, “why am i here?”

he’s standing so close to you now. he doesn’t even know how he got this close, all he knows is that you look even prettier like this. you look into his eyes so deeply that it feels like you’ve reached his soul. the tears that brim your eyes make them shine even more than usual.

“cause i have to say goodbye.” your voice breaks when you say it. that’s how he knows this one’s the truth.

“no you don’t. you can stay,” he says. clearly you don’t want to leave beomgyu if the thought has you crying like this. he’s brought back to the last time he saw you, how you cried that time too. he didn’t understand in the moment, but he does now. you like him. maybe even more than you like taehyun.

“no, but…” you trail off, taking a moment to hold beomgyu’s soft gaze. “taehyun doesn’t look at me the way you do.”

beomgyu knows what that means. he sees your resolve cracking, and he takes his chances while he can. he grabs your hands, clutching them desperately.

“so leave him,” he urges. “be with me.”

“beomgyu…”

“you know this isn’t the last time. you know i’m not leaving.”

your big doe eyes make his heart clench. “i know,” you answer in a whisper. you drop your head in defeat.

beomgyu picks your head back up, hand cradling your face gently. “why don’t you just leave him? won’t that save you so much drama? do i have to beg you?”

“don’t beg me,” you insist pitifully.

he doesn’t listen. “please leave him. please.”

it’s like hearing him say that hurts you. he can see it on your face.

“i can’t,” you say.

“you can. i’d do it for you.”

“no. i can’t leave him.”

“what does he have over you? and what does he have that i don’t?”

“i like him,” you answer. beomgyu’s world stops for a moment.

“don’t say that,” he begs quietly, shaking his head.

“i like him, beomgyu. i’m sorry.”

“no. you don’t mean it. you like me.” he refuses to believe anything else.

“we shouldn’t be doing this,” you say, trying to step away, but beomgyu doesn’t let you.

“i don’t care,” he says. he holds onto you tighter, scared to let go. “please, baby.”

“don’t say that…”

“baby.”

“beomgyu, please.”

“please what?”

he waits for an answer. you just blink up at him, pathetic and doll-like and frustrating and gorgeous, and it all just riles him up so much.

“please leave,” you whisper.

he keeps holding you and doesn’t budge. he kisses your cheek.

“beomgyu, please, leave.”

he kisses your other cheek.

“why do you never leave?” you groan. he doesn’t answer.

he presses the tiniest kiss against your lips, then waits for you to reprimand him. you don’t. he kisses you again, staying just a second longer. you let him once again. he stares at your pretty face for a long moment until he decides that he’s held himself back long enough. he comes in again, more desperate to taste you, opening his mouth a little more, happy to see you accepting it so easily.

he walks the two of you backwards until you’re against the door, hitting the surface with a tiny mewl. he doesn’t pull away from your lips for a second. part of it is because he’s scared you might tell him to leave again, part of it is because he wants to make your brain turn to mush so you can’t think of taehyun anymore, but most of it is just because he really likes kissing you.

he holds your hands in his, then drags his hands up your arms and over your shoulders until they land on your face. he holds you in place while he tilts his head, kissing you deeper like it’s all he was made to do. he’s desperate to keep you here with him, to keep you in this moment forever, to never stop kissing you because it’s going to hurt when it’s all over.

he breathes into your mouth, not daring to part from you. he’d sooner run out of air than risk hearing you tell him to leave again. you emit all these little sounds that only encourage beomgyu further, making his head spin and his stomach tie up in knots.

he licks at your lips, a silent plea for you to open up for him, and it’s not long before you do. you must be drunk in him too, lost in the feeling. he feels like he’s good for you in moments like these, like he’s good enough to make you forget your stupid boyfriend and all the stupid commitments you have to him.

beomgyu could make you happy too. he’s not only good for this stuff—he’s pretty good at planning dates, he could show you. there’s that lake nearby that looks beautiful at sunset, and it’s got all these flower bushes around it, you’d like it so much. they’re prettier than the flowers taehyun brought you to see. beomgyu knows the best places. he’ll find more if he runs out, he’ll show you the world.

he whines when his tongue collides with yours, hot and desperate and aching to be further inside you than he can get. he wants you to choke on him, to feel and think nothing but him, and even that won’t be a tenth of how he feels for you. he wants you to see it. he wants you to realize how bad you’ve got him.

beomgyu wonders if you even know what it feels like to be this crazy over someone. does taehyun haunt you like this? no, that’s impossible—you wouldn’t have enough room in your mind to think about beomgyu if that were the case.

he presses harder against you, like he wants your body to merge into his own. nothing is ever close enough. his fingers press into your skin, dying to dig himself inside of you. he wants more than you could even offer. he’s greedier than ever, and all he has is your mouth. he feels nothing but blinding need; he’s never been so consumed by a feeling before.

this is him proving himself, this is him showing you how he wants you like no one else could. you’re crying into his mouth now, pulling at his hair, and maybe you need air but he can’t give that to you. he just needs a little more. he’ll always need a little more.

his lungs ache, body shaking from the need to breathe, limbs getting weak and head getting light. he could die like this—he could die and be happy, collapsing at your feet, but he can’t let you die too, so he pulls away and finally allows the two of you some air. at least you can’t tell him to go away when you’re gasping for breath.

his chest heaves as his lungs get their fill, but he doesn’t regain his composure. his eyes are zeroed in on you, admiring your open mouth sucking in all the oxygen you can get. there’s a hazy look in your eyes, blinking slowly as you stare at him. there’s something like admiration in the way you look at him, like he’s just shown you the light. it sends a rush through his body, and he just has to keep you looking at him like that.

his mouth moves to your jaw, lips closing around the skin and sucking. he pulls away and keeps his dark gaze on you, gauging your reaction. you still wear that dazed, needy look, and he can tell that you’re finally as desperate as him. he grins, body lighting up with an overwhelming feeling of victory. he clings to the sensation and chases it further, dragging his lips down your throat until they’re pressed against your pulse point. he lingers there for a moment, closing his eyes and indulging in the feel of your pulse against his lips.

he pecks you sweetly, then comes back to your mouth for another short kiss. he brushes the hair from your face, then holds your head still so he can admire you again. your breathing seems regular now.

“you okay?” he asks. it’s a little cruel how much of a power rush he feels by having you so docile in his arms.

“i’m okay,” you say.

he brings his hands to your thighs and urges you to jump onto him. he holds you close and walks to your bedroom, delighting in the feel of you clinging to his body.

your body looks so perfect sprawled out against the mattress, like this was the way you were made to be looked at. you’re still dressed up, still wearing a cute dress that taehyun must have loved, still wearing your make-up that’s gotten all smudged from the kisses. if beomgyu tries hard enough, he can imagine that he’d just taken you home after a date with him. no taehyun, no messy drama, no arguments, just you and beomgyu and the little sparks that go off every time you’re with him.

he’d work so hard all day, tell all these dumb jokes and make a fool of himself just to hear you lose your breath laughing so hard. then he’d take you home and kiss you the whole way back. you wouldn’t be able to pry him off of you, and he’d have you laid out just like this. you’d look up at him just like this.

he puts his hands on your thighs, his touch innocent. he looks at the skirt of your dress. he knows very well by now what lies beneath it, but a part of him feels like it’s the first time all over again. he brushes his fingertips over your stomach, lightly tracing lines down to the hem of your dress, where the fabric meets your thighs.

“you look pretty,” beomgyu murmurs absentmindedly. his eyes dart back up to your face, waiting for your response.

you gulp. “you look handsome too.”

beomgyu smiles. you don’t even know you’re feeding into this domestic little fantasy he has. his hands run down your thighs again, keeping the pressure light. it makes you shiver, which makes him swoon.

he wants to push you a little further, so he does. his fingers just barely slide under your dress, rubbing the smooth skin he finds there. he kisses your neck and stays there for a second to inhale your scent.

“baby, you’re perfect,” he says against your skin. your hand comes up to run through his hair, and it makes his heart skip a beat.

“don’t make me cry,” you say, a sad smile on your face as your fingers brush his hair back. he kisses you sweetly.

“i won’t.”

he urges your legs apart a little further. he wants to take care of you, he wants to be the only one who sees you like this. he wants to be the only one you run to when you’re wet and desperate to get off.

his hands go beneath your dress to hold your hips, brushing his thumbs over the fabric of your panties. in his mind, you wore these just for him to take off, for him to lose his mind over, and no other guy even crossed your mind. you’re so sweet to him in these daydreams. you only care about him, and he only cares about you.

“pretty,” he whispers, tracing his nose against your jaw. you turn your head to look at him. you wear that same innocent look that captured him in the first place. your eyes are wide and curious and aching to know a world unexplored.

“beomgyu,” you whisper back.

“can i touch you?” he keeps his voice quiet, not needing to talk too loud when he’s so close to you.

you hold his gaze for a long while, and he wonders what you must be thinking about. what could be keeping you from letting beomgyu make you happy? what’s so wrong with living in the moment, not letting anyone else fog your mind and change your decisions?

his chest stings the longer you go unresponsive. there’s a vulnerability cracking open inside him, and he’s trying to force you into that crevice, unable to stand your silence or rejection. he’s scared now, and fear fuels his actions when he dips his fingers beneath your panties, ready to tug them down.

“say yes,” he begs, uncaring how pathetic it is. “let me have you. you need me. let me show you.”

“but”—

“no, forget him.” he knows exactly what you were going to say. “he’s dead next time i see him anyway.”

“beomgyu!” you scold.

“come on, please,” he whines, almost ready to start crying. “i need to feel you, need to feel like you like me.”

your lips tug downward. “i do like you.”

“not the way i need you to. not enough for me to be the only one for you.”

“gyu, i like you a lot.”

“no you don’t,” he sulks, bringing his head to the crook of your neck.

you soothe him with your fingers tracing down his scalp and neck. he sighs, melting into the feeling.

“you can have me,” you relent. beomgyu picks his head up immediately.

“yeah?”

you nod. “yeah.”

“you want it?”

“i do,” you say, rolling your hips up needily. he smiles and starts peeling your panties down, kissing your cheek as he gets rid of them for you.

“how bad?”

“so bad, i like you so much. i wanna prove it,” you say.

“so perfect for me,” he hums happily, touching all up and down your legs. he pushes the skirt of your dress up, and you take it upon yourself to pull it off of you entirely. you throw your bra to the ground too, and beomgyu sits back starstruck for a moment. it feels like you really want him. it fuels his need to be the best he can be for you.

he attaches his lips to your nipple, hungry for your sensitive skin. he laps over the bud until he hears you whining, then sucks some more. you shouldn’t be able to stand how bad you want him, you should be crying and shaking for him, needing his touch like how he needs yours. that’s how you’ll prove you like him, he decides. you’ll give him everything he wants.

he brings his mouth to your other tit, giving it the same attention as you writhe beneath him. he grins when you arch your back, seeking out the pleasure he’s giving you. you moan a little as he grazes his teeth against the flesh of your mound.

he inches his fingers towards your cunt, and he feels the heat radiating from between your legs. he loves being the one to do this to you, he loves that he has an effect on you. his fingers ghost around your pussy, dancing against your skin teasingly.

“gonna let me fuck you on my fingers?” he asks, looking up at you with a pleased grin because he knows your answer.

“yes, i need it,” you say, bucking your hips forward to try to get him to touch you.

“tell me how much you need it, and everything you want me to do,” he says, tracing circles over your lower stomach. he doesn’t usually tease you, but he feels like he has to right now. he wants you to chase him a little, it’s unfair for him to be the only one to do it all the time.

“so bad, i need to feel you inside me,” you whine, pouty lips shining in a way that makes kissing you irresistible. he steals you for a kiss for only a second, because he wants to hear what else you have to say. you look so far gone, and it makes him feel accomplished.

“tell me more,” he says.

“i want your fingers, i can’t stand being so wet and empty.” your words make beomgyu moan. when did you get so fucking dirty? did he make you like this?

“need me to stretch out that tight hole? get you ready for a real cock?”

you whine and shut your eyes, rolling your hips up, dying for friction. beomgyu gets a wicked sense of satisfaction from it, urging your hips back down to the bed. he watches your reaction as he brings a finger to your entrance, gathering your arousal unhurriedly. he doesn’t push in, he only lingers at your hole, prodding only enough to drive you crazy.

your sopping cunt continues to leak as he teases you more and more, and it’s the most satisfying sight in the world to see you shake with need beneath him. your hole flutters, practically begging him to get inside you, but he only drags his finger up to your clit to tease you there too.

your fists tighten in his shirt, clutching desperately as if to speak how urgently you need him, and he can feel it now. he can feel that you’re worked up beyond hunger, beyond desire, beyond lust—you’re becoming desperate and miserable, something more like him. he almost laughs in triumph, coming in to kiss you because he just can’t help it.

you chase his lips when he pulls away, and he lets you have his kiss again. he brings his finger to your entrance again, pressing down almost enough to start sliding in. you moan into his mouth and push your hips forward greedily, and he finally lets you have it. you’ve been so good in letting him be a little mean.

“fuck, beomgyu, thank you,” you sigh out, finally getting a fraction of the relief you’ve been looking for. he’ll give you something to be thankful for. he wants to be good for you so badly, wants to hear you make noises no one else has heard, wants to make you feel things that no one else has.

you’re tight around him, and he gives you time to adjust to his finger inside you. god, he’d piss you off a thousand more times if it meant another night with you like this. feeling you so intimately beneath him, feeling you give yourself up to him, it all makes beomgyu feel like he’s done everything right in life.

if only that were true—if he’d done everything right, you’d be his alone right now. the ugly thought returns that he’s not your only one; in fact, he’s probably the less important one between him and taehyun. he doesn’t occupy your entire mind the way you do to his. the thought is accompanied by a small ache in his chest.

it seems like nothing beomgyu does is ever enough for you. he refuses to give up, though, even when it gets draining and hopeless and painful for him. maybe he’s just not good enough yet. he has to be a little nicer, a little smarter, a little better.

your hands come up to his face, touching him in a way that makes him pause. you hold him like he’s delicate. you hold him like you’re cherishing this moment. he locks eyes with you, finding something soft and vulnerable there.

something’s different now. he’s not sure what happened, but that one look is all it takes for the pain in his heart to subside. that one look and the way you hold him is all it takes for him to realize that he’s wasting time thinking about taehyun—the only thing that matters right now is making you see how bad beomgyu wants to be yours.

he holds your gaze as he fucks his finger into you. he’s slow and careful, making sure not to hurt you by taking too much too soon. your brows are upturned from your pleasure, your mouth dropped open to expel your heavy breaths. his heart beats faster in a way that almost scares him.

he pushes a second finger into you, feeding the flame eagerly, cherishing the moan you give him in response and the way your hands move to rest around his shoulders. a warm feeling grows in his body, more greedy and overwhelming than just lust. the feeling makes him fuck you with a greater goal in mind, needing to bury you in his affections and force you to face his need.

your noises encourage him further, and he hooks his fingers up to hit a spot inside you that has you giving him those cute high-pitched moans that he loves so much. he craves more from you, the fire never dies out. his hand finds your waist, holding you down like he’s scared you might run off. he needs you here with him. he needs you only here, only with him, forever and ever, like nothing else matters but this, like no one else matters but him.

“gyu, so good, i love it.” your words are whiny and make his heart soar. he keeps up his pace and curls his fingers inside you again, smiling when you keen.

“you love it?” he repeats.

you nod vigorously. “yeah, love it.”

he bites his lip and thrusts his fingers into you a little harder. you cry out and arch your back, nails digging into his shoulders. it’s such a rewarding sensation.

you look too pretty like this, too gorgeous and he just can’t be normal about it. he needs to have you forever. he needs to be yours, it repeats like a mantra in his head and corrupts his mind. it makes him dumb, makes him spill out words he shouldn’t say.

“call me your boyfriend,” he says, panting, digging his fingers deeper inside you.

“what?” you ask, voice all shaken.

“call me your boyfriend, tell me how good i am to you,” he repeats.

he feels your walls clamp around him, he feels how close you are, and he wants to give you everything and get you off and be that man for you. he wants to believe he’s yours, even if you’re only saying it because you want to cum. he doesn’t care, he’ll take what he can get.

no words leave you. it seems like you’re making him work for it. “come on, say it. don’t you want your boyfriend to make you cum?”

you gasp, and beomgyu brings his hand up from your waist to your breasts. he takes a handful of your flesh there, enamored by how sensitive you are to his touches.

“y-yeah,” you stutter out, eyes growing more hazy. you look at beomgyu like he’s the only man in the world.

“i’ll take care of you, pretty. won’t you thank me?” he rubs against a spot that has you gasping out, watching with a grin as you struggle to obey his wishes.

“thank you..! thank you!”

beomgyu hums happily, continuing to rub that spot inside you as you start to squirm under him. he sinks himself back into this fantasy where you’re back home from a date, and he’s being the best boyfriend to you by getting you off just how you like. he knows your body better than anyone else, knows how to command its pleasure, and he’ll be damned if anyone else ever steals his place here with you.

you grow senseless, arching up toward beomgyu’s body, clinging onto him desperately, whimpering like the sweetheart you are. you’re so close, and you’re so delirious, and he’s so consumed by the sight.

“please, i’m gonna…” you trail off, and beomgyu laughs a little.

“mhm? gonna cum for me? i touch you that good?”

“yeah, so good, gonna cum on your fingers, my boyfriend’s fingers,” you pant. beomgyu nearly blows his load hearing you say that. he’s frenzied now, he has to stop himself from hammering into you, has to be mindful that you’re still so new to this and he can’t just go crazy because he wants to.

he’s probably saying a lot of stupid shit right now, but he barely registers it. it’s a lot of urgent pleas for you to cum and a lot of sweet names that roll off his tongue so easily for you. he thinks he’s not even human anymore, that he’s just something made to touch you and serve you. he watches you twist up in pleasure, lips parting over a moan as your orgasm crashes over you.

he loves this, loves everything about it. he loves how you look cumming for him, he loves how you feel squeezing around his digits, he loves how useful it makes him feel. he bucks against your thigh, needing a little relief for himself, unable to contain his own pleasure from watching you.

he pulls his fingers out of you once you’ve come down, letting them drag out of your walls slowly. he rests his forehead against your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you catch your breath. his hands find your hips, holding them like he needs it for his comfort.

the air is thick. you lie limp and easy and pliable beneath him, and he gulps because he can’t believe how much he’s holding back. it’s horrifying how bad he wants to take it further.

this should be enough, he shouldn’t want more. you’re so pretty and innocent and he’d be evil to try to go further. he’d be evil to ask for more. he’d be awful. he’d be wicked and terrible and selfish, and he can’t be like that to you.

but he’d be gentle. he’d be kind. he’d watch you and listen to you sincerely, and he’d make you feel wanted and cherished. maybe even loved.

he kisses your chest, right where he may feel your heartbeat if he lingers too long. he picks his head up slowly, catching your eyes to see if you’re still lost in this fantasy with him. you look dazed as ever, and it works to get beomgyu’s heartbeat to pick up.

you’re his girlfriend. for just this moment, he can pretend you are, and you can be good and let him. his hands are almost hesitant as they find your thighs, spreading them a little wider to allow him more space.

the moment feels just as dangerous as it does sacred. it feels like dragging an angel down to earth, like heaven’s losing something. he gives your skin a gentle squeeze.

“if you’re my girlfriend, if you’re all mine”—he brushes your hair back, careful and sweet—“then you should feel all of me.”

he slots his hips between your thighs, not forceful or rough, but with enough pressure to make your breath hitch, as if to remind you that the night’s not over. he watches you, waiting, aching for your next words, as if you’ll determine the fate of the rest of his life.

your hand cups his cheek, holding him like he’s delicate. the gentleness of it makes him throb. you’re all soft parts and pretty pieces.

your response comes in a whisper, “then show me all of you.”

he leans forward, kissing you because it means more than any words he could speak. you’re too perfect, too good, and he’s going to have you forever. he’s going to be yours, and he’s going to make you happy.

your hand falls to his pants, prying them down slowly along with his boxers, letting each second drag so the moment can last. beomgyu cradles your cheek when he parts from your lips, holding your face still so he can uncover every emotion you must be feeling.

he lets his cock drag through your folds without any rush, savoring the sensation of your warmth right against him. his mouth drops open, moaning without shame, letting you hear how bad you affect him. you’re soaked, and he’s not even side you but you already feel like heaven against him. he’ll be done for the moment he pushes in.

“let me have you, pretty,” he says, voice quiet like that too may break you.

“you have me,” you answer. you gasp when the head of his dick catches your clit. he focuses his attention there a little longer, adoring your reactions.

“only me,” he says.

you nod, staring at him with big eyes filled with need. “only you.”

“and only i can take care of you. it’s just you and me.” he kisses your neck, wetting your skin with his tongue like that could portray all his affections.

“just you and me,” you repeat. he brings his tip down, collecting your arousal one last time before stopping at your entrance. he’s still holding your face, still looking into your eyes, still trying to unveil every thought that must be running through your head.

he spends some time like that, a few long seconds that feel like the ending of a chapter. everything changes after this. all is still.

“i’m your first?” he asks. he already knows the answer, but he appreciates it anyway when you give him a meek nod to confirm. he can’t stop himself from smiling. he always knew he’d get you like this, and he’s going to make sure he does everything right for you.

he used to have thoughts about ruining you for anyone else. he used to think about taking your virginity the same way he’d take you from taehyun: with ultimate sin, filled to the brim with pride and lust and greed—but this moment doesn’t call for that. weighty, selfish motives like that don’t cross beomgyu’s mind at all. instead, he feels attuned to you, like he’s not stealing something from you, but giving you something, building something.

he pushes in slowly, just an inch at a time, and watches the way your breathing picks up, the way your hands scramble to find purchase on something. he takes one of your hands in his own, smiling at you comfortingly.

he’s got his tip inside you, and he’s already gathering his breath trying not to burst. even after stretching you out on his fingers, you’re insanely tight around him.

“does it hurt?” he asks, voice strained.

“no, just… stay like that for a minute,” you say. beomgyu obliges, letting you adjust to his girth. he knows he’s big, that he’s a lot to take, but he knows you’ll be perfect for him. he’ll give you all the time in his world, he just has to hope he can last that long.

you’re warm and wet and everything he could have dreamed, and it leaves beomgyu whimpering above you. he’s wanted this for so long, wanted you for so long, and he can’t believe he’s finally getting you.

it’s the intimacy of the moment that’s really twisting his stomach now; he feels closer to you than ever, and it excites him in a way that triumphs however else he’s ever imagined having you. all the thoughts running through his mind beg him to make you feel good, to reward you for being so sweet to him.

your free hand trails down beomgyu’s back, grazing your fingers against him soothingly. it sends a chill throughout his body, igniting sparks that he’s already familiar with thanks to you. you entrance him effortlessly, always putting him under this spell that makes him crave you in ways he’s never felt for anyone else.

“give me more,” you finally say, allowing him to move again. he sighs in relief, hissing as he gets another few inches of himself into you before letting you adjust again. you’re gorgeous and so worked up beneath him, and he can’t wait to see how good you’ll feel when he gives you all of him.

he imagines how you may react when he starts really fucking you. he wonders if he’ll get to hear any new noises from you, or if he’ll feel your body tremble and quake in different ways. he can imagine your cunt sucking him in so deep, just begging for his load, and he has to stop the thought there because his cock twitches from the excitement.

“still okay?” he asks.

you nod with a whiny moan, and it makes beomgyu want to coo at you. “gyu, i—ah—i feel so full already…”

he laughs, “i know, baby.” he eases his hand over your body, finding amusement in the way you shiver when he brushes over your tits.

“you’re so big,” you whine, throwing your head back. you’re making it hard for beomgyu to keep his focus by saying things like that.

“can you take more?”

“yes, want more,” you moan. he smiles, feeling his heart warm at how good you’re being for him. he knew you’d be such a dream.

with your permission, beomgyu sinks into you further, groaning as he finally bottoms out. he’s blinded by the pleasure for a second, and in that short time he thinks he sees his entire future with you. one where you’re always here, always with him, always ready.

he calms himself down enough to check up on you, scanning your face for any discomfort. he comes in to pepper kisses onto your cheek, hoping they spell out how proud he is and how amazing you are. it’s not beyond him how lucky he is to be the first to have you—or to have you at all, for that matter.

“you need some time?” he rasps out. he hopes you say yes, because he needs a breather himself. he’s way too close to cumming already.

“yeah, please,” you breathe. he obliges easily, spending his time kissing your neck and listening to your pretty sighs. he stays sheathed inside you, and your walls wrap around him so tight that he worries if he’ll even be able to move much. you’re so warm and wet and nice, and it’s fucking crazy that he’s the first to feel you like this.

his hands are in constant need to be filled by you, grabbing at every inch of your skin like it’s all his to claim. you’re finally his, in your most bare and precious form; you’re his in the most meaningful and beautiful way. he’s as close to you as he could possibly be.

his mind is running faster than he can possibly keep up with. his brows scrunch, trying to ground himself as he leans his face into your neck, but he feels all too floaty to come back down. he holds your hips, firm and strong, groaning when you get impossibly tighter around him for a second.

“you’re still mine?” he asks, pulling himself up to look down at you. you don’t look too put-together anymore. beomgyu loves it. the messiness suits you well, it brings out something more genuine in you.

“yeah,” you agree easily.

“my girlfriend?” he doesn’t care how much of an idiot it makes him sound like. he needs to know you’re still in this with him.

he grinds his hips against you a little, earning a delicious moan from you that has his mouth dropping open in awe. he could devour you whole right now. he could blend your bodies into one, spend an eternity deep inside you.

“y-yeah, your girlfriend,” you repeat back, and he grins. you make him so proud.

he picks himself up a little more, leaning back so he has better leverage on your body. “so i should be a good boyfriend then and fuck you just right?”

your lips pull up, giving him a smile that’s just as sweet as it is enticing. he smooths his palms over your thighs, enjoying your soft skin while he’s still buried to the hilt inside you.

“take me, baby,” you moan. he almost ruins the whole night by passing out at that.

“gonna take it all, pretty,” he promises, coming down to kiss you one last time. he starts pulling out slowly as his mouth is on yours, letting his cock drag through your walls and memorize every inch. he eases himself back in, drinking up your noises eagerly.

god, this is the meaning of it all. he’s never pulling out of you, he can’t, this is where he belongs. he grunts into your mouth as he bottoms out again, holding your waist like you’ll disappear if he won’t. he slides out a little yet again, and thrusts back with the slightest more vigor this time.

“gyu, fuck!” you cry out.

“too much?” he asks, thumbs soothing your skin as he pauses his movements.

“no, it’s good, i love it,” you babble out.

“yeah? you love it? love having my dick in you?” he does the same thing again, pulling out just a bit to slide back in hungrily.

“yes!” the whine in your voice has him holding back whines of his own. it’s unreal how perfect you feel around him. you take him so well, it’s like you were made for him.

it’s so easy to lose himself into the idea that you’re only beomgyu’s when you look up at him like this. it’s like you realized he’s the piece that you’ve been missing in your life, like you’ve finally figured everything out and you’re seeing it laid in front of you now.

it works out in his mind perfectly: he’s your boyfriend, and he’s dedicating his life to you, and you’re letting him take your virginity like the good girlfriend you are. he wonders if that’s what you see too—he hopes with his whole heart that’s the case.

he pulls out a little more this time, sliding back in with a groan. you’re too good for him; it’s impossible to cherish this moment enough. you whimper so sweetly, and it just makes him want to take care of you forever.

“god, you’re so good,” beomgyu grits out.

“feel so full, gyu.” he can’t help but to press down gently where he’s buried deep inside, letting his palm sit right there while you gasp and writhe beneath him. you’re figuring out what to do with all the pleasure, and beomgyu can’t get enough of it.

“yeah, gotta make sure my girlfriend’s nice and stuffed. gotta keep her wet, keep her happy,” he pants out, hypnotized by the feel of your cunt. you bunch up his hair in your hand, arching your back. you bite your lip, but it fails to hold back your moans.

he doesn’t want this to end, but he can feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. he needs to make sure you’re there too, needs to feel you cum on his cock before he has to pull out. his thumb finds your clit and you jolt, overwhelmed.

“beomgyu!! oh, god!” you yelp, nails digging into him. the pain only encourages him, has him thrusting a little more fervently.

“cum all over me, baby. show me how much you like me, just like you said you would.” you’re tightening around him again, and he can barely move so he focuses all his attention on your clit instead, keeping his pace steady until your breath hitches and you’re right there, on the edge, surrendering everything to him.

you cum with his name on your tongue and his dick buried inside you, and there will never be anything more fulfilling than that. his fingers dig into your hips as he forces himself not to cum inside you, holding out for just a few more seconds until you calm down.

he pulls out then, jerking himself with half his mind gone. he’s shaking, turned on beyond belief, and he needs to let you know how bad you have him. if you’re his girlfriend, and you’re giving every part of yourself up to him, and you’re doing everything so well, then you should know—he should say—

“i love you,” he pants. he sees the surprise in your eyes, and you open your mouth to say something, but he covers it with his palm before you can, gentle but firm. “i love you. just let me love you.”

his cum spurts out of him after that, dribbling onto your stomach as he lets out a moan from deep inside his chest. he’s breathing heavily, clinging onto the moment so reality doesn’t crash onto him yet. he wants to be here forever. he wants to hold you down and do whatever it takes to make you stay. he was doing good warding off that possessive feeling for a while, but it comes back like second nature.

“you’re still mine,” he says, staring you down so you know he means it. he slowly lifts his palm from your mouth.

you don’t say it back this time.

beomgyu grabs your dress, ready to use it to wipe his cum off you, but you grab his wrist and push it far away from your body. he blinks at you innocently, wondering what he did wrong.

“grab a towel! why are you trying to ruin my dress?” you ask. beomgyu laughs at how your voice has gone a little raspy.

he heads to your bathroom and comes back with a towel, wiping your skin and tossing it aside carelessly. he sits in front of you as you lay before him, legs still spread to accommodate for the space he takes up.

beomgyu doesn’t want to say anything and risk ruining the peace. he doesn’t ask what now? even though it’s all he wants to find out.

he got what he wanted, he supposes. he’s probably supposed to feel satisfied now. he tries his best to.

still, the weight of something more hangs in the air. he can feel it in the silence that takes over the room, and he can see it in the way you can barely look at him. you pretend to find interest in your bedroom walls.

can he still kiss you? does he still get that? did everything just end right before his eyes?

“i guess you got what you wanted,” you say, half-hearted and light like it’s supposed to be a joke. beomgyu doesn’t find it funny. he doesn’t even think you do.

“don’t say it like that,” beomgyu says.

“then tell me what else you want,” you prompt. your tone holds no challenge, only curiosity.

“i want to talk to you,” he answers. he lays beside you on the bed, getting in the way of that staring contest you were having with the wall. you blink and breathe and do everything a human would, but beomgyu still thinks you’re a doll. you endear him endlessly.

“okay,” you agree. “what do you want to talk about?”

beomgyu smiles. “isn’t it kind of obvious?”

you laugh, “kind of.”

beomgyu wraps an arm around you and urges you closer, holding you against him. you accept his embrace, and there’s a happy thrum in his chest when you lean on him.

“maybe we should talk about something unexpected then,” beomgyu jokes.

“like that wasn’t unexpected enough?” you both laugh.

“yeah.”

“so stop dancing around it and just say it,” you order, swatting his chest playfully and making him laugh again.

“you’re not a virgin anymore.”

he practically feels you deflate.

“oh.”

“what?” he asks. you act like you didn’t know that.

“nothing.”

panic rises within him, even more so when you start pulling away. you sit up, and he follows.

“baby, what’s wrong?”

“why are you still calling me that?” you counter.

he’s utterly confused. you were so bubbly and fun a minute ago. did he really ruin your mood that much by pointing out the truth?

“what did i do?” he asks.

you shake your head and sigh. “nothing. it’s me.”

beomgyu groans, “oh my god, this better not be about taehyun.”

“it’s not,” you bite. “he didn’t even cross my mind. not for a second. so if it counts for anything, you win.”

beomgyu scrunches his brows. “i don’t get it then.”

“don’t worry about it. i don’t even think it matters to you,” you say. this is so unfair. you’re not even giving beomgyu a chance.

“just tell me,” he pleads, softening his voice.

“i thought it was obvious,” you mutter. beomgyu’s lost. is this still about your virginity?

“i don’t want you to be sad. not after what we did. please.”

you look at him and sigh. there wasn’t fight in you to begin with, but your resolve dissipates nonetheless. he can see you giving in now.

“when you said…” you pause to find your words, then shake your head after a few seconds. “no, nevermind.”

“no, tell me,” beomgyu urges. you sigh, unable to meet his eyes, so he grabs onto your hand to try to soothe you. to his surprise, you pull your hand away, almost as if you can’t stand his touch anymore.

his eyes go wide, darting across your face for an explanation or a sign. “baby..?” he tries.

there’s no way you’re sending him out after this. he’s not walking out, he can’t after what just happened. he’ll bury his feet into your floor if he has to; he’s not leaving.

“when you said you love me,” you start again, bringing your gaze back to his. there’s a vulnerability in them that makes you look more fragile than a porcelain doll. “was that pretend, too?”

you blink at him expectantly. his mouth drops open, but he struggles to find an answer.

“tell me, gyu,” you insist, but your tone holds no bite.

“i… don’t know.” it feels like the wrong answer. with the way you bow your head, he guesses it was.

“okay,” you say. you look dejected, and beomgyu can’t seem to figure out why. you’re the one who already has a boyfriend. you shouldn’t even be asking these questions. god, why did you have to ask that question? beomgyu’s so in his head now.

“baby, please, this isn’t”—

“stop calling me that.”

“this isn’t fair and you know it! how could you expect me to answer that?”

you laugh like this is so beyond you. “then why the fuck would you say it? and why did you seem so ready to tell me you loved me earlier?”

beomgyu’s head hurts. you must be reading too much into it. fuck if he knows why he does anything—his only answer is always you, you, you. you drive him crazy, you make him do crazy things. you’re doing so right now, too.

he doesn’t think about things so deeply like that, because when he does life gets even messier. love tangles things up in knots. it doesn’t make sense to him, he’s not smart like you and taehyun. if he knows one thing, though, it’s that he doesn’t want to let you go. that must count for something.

of course he craves you. he yearns for you. he wants you to feel loved, but he—fuck, his mind is whirring too fast and he doesn’t know anything, but you deserve an explanation and you deserve better than him, but you shouldn’t ever have anyone but him and, and, and—

“beomgyu, stop, calm down,” you say, putting a hand on his shoulder.

he looks up at you. he didn’t realize when he started breathing so heavily.

“sorry,” he murmurs.

“just… lay down,” you say. he does. you pull the sheets over him. you sit there for a minute, watching him until he feels better.

you get up then, and beomgyu feels his heart pick up again. “you’re leaving?” he asks.

“go to sleep, beomgyu.”

“don’t leave me.” he feels like crying.

you turn to him and level him with a stare. “i’m just showering.”

he blinks, and a tear falls from his eye. “okay.”

he shuts his eyes, but he doesn’t dare fall asleep until he knows you’re not lying. he feels the bed dip beside him some time later, the familiar weight of you coming into bed. he’s asleep within seconds.

taglist: @lilysiaaa @razsberrie @hyukarma @moaadiry @okkotsuevie @simp4gyu @hyunj00 @ode2soob @wonnietopia @seolis-world @kveclair @haohaoshoe @be0mgyulovrrr @iaaespa @gyuhaze 🤍

#wifeeeeey #you did a great job #i loved all this you know that by now hehe #raya recommends

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dawngyu · 6 days ago

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WE BROKE UP?????

we're back guys

@dawngyu and @izzyy-stuff back together

#damn #i didnt know

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dawngyu · 6 days ago

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izzy's "lock in!" is so cute wtf @izzyy-stuff

#laughed for like 3 mins straight while writing #hella cute #raya rants

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dawngyu · 7 days ago

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look at how much @delugyu yaps 😏

#the world needs to know #my wife is a yapper lmaoooo #59 hours hehe #she's so cool too #don't tell her i said that #raya rants

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dawngyu · 7 days ago

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JUST WHEN I'M ABOUT TO SLEEP?????

#SIR??????#holy fuck #raya rants

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dawngyu · 7 days ago

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I LITERALLY JUMPED AS SOON AS SAW YOUR NOTIF HIIIII SOL OMG I LOVE YOU! you're a legendary to me i hope you know that, and i hope i conveyed all my thanks enough through dms because i am your biggest fangirl!!! thank you for reading this story ><

‎₊ ˚ ⊹ ིྀ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐅𝐈𝐓

pairing: slytherin!kai x gryffindor!reader

He was supposed to look away. He was never supposed to crave the one who didn't belong.

warnings: hogwarts au, set in college age, romance redemption, strangers to lovers, pureblood/halfblood societal norms, mdni. bullying!, family!trauma.

smutwarnings: virginity-loss, missionary, oral!fem receiving.

wc: 10k — playlist

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌: so happy to be part of this event! thank you to my girls, rain, ash yun and nina for being awesome ily all ^.^ see the event masterlist here.

He grips the back of her head, his fingers sinking into her hair as he thrusts into her with a steady, punishing rhythm. Skin into skin. Her soft moans turn ragged, a needy, breathless chorus in the dimly lit room. The air is thick with the cloying scent of her perfume, almost too sweet, making his head swim.

“m-more, Kai, please,” she whimpers, her nails scraping at his shoulders, her legs tightening around his hips.

He smirks. They always beg the same way.

He watches her, how her lips part with every gasp, her brows knit in desperate pleasure but as she reaches up, her fingers brushing against his jaw, he knows what she’s after.

A kiss.

He shoves her hand down, ignoring the flash of irritation in her eyes. He doesn’t want to see that. He doesn’t want to see anything but her writhing beneath him as he chases his own high.

He keeps pounding into her, the bed creaking under them, her breaths turning into sharp cries. When he feels himself tip over the edge, he holds her hips still, burying himself to the hilt as he cums hard into the condom. He stays there for a moment, head bowed, catching his breath. He pulls out and steps back, his chest heaving. She lies flushed and trembling, a sheen of sweat on her skin, her hair a tangled mess. He’s already made her release twice tonight, but he can’t find it in himself to press his lips to hers.

A line he never crosses.

She sits up, tugging down the hem of her uniform skirt, smoothing it over her thighs. She ties her hair back in a tight ponytail, her green scarf slightly wrinkled. She watches him with narrowed eyes, her lips still parted and pink. “Why don’t you ever kiss me?” Yunjin says finally, her tone somewhere between curiosity and frustration. “I used to think it was just me… but I talked to some of the other girls you’ve hooked up with. You never kiss them either.”

He shrugs, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark as he tugs on his jeans. “Should I?”

“Asshole.” Yunjin’s voice is clipped, her eyes sharp with hurt as she stands up. She can’t let him be the one to leave first, not tonight. She smooths down her skirt and grabs her bag, shoulders squared as she heads for the door.

Heuning Kai just watches her, his lips quirking into a lazy smirk. He’s known her since their first year, long enough to read every flicker of her mood, how she tries to cover her hurt with anger, how she thinks he can’t see it.

He doesn’t bother trying to stop her. He doesn’t have to.

She leaves with her head high and her footsteps light, and he doesn’t move until the door clicks shut behind her. He shakes his head, a small huff under his breath as he stands and tugs his jeans back up, his shirt still undone.

Kissing. It’s always been too intimate, too close; something that feels like more than he can give. He’s never been interested in playing at something deeper than what they already have. He’s never found the will to do it.

He glances at the rumpled sheets. He will need to have them smoothed out, made right again. Things should be neat, aligned.

He has always hated disorder, the way it jars the symmetry he craves.

He strides through the grand halls with the effortless poise of someone who believes the castle itself was built for him. Every step is confident, his polished shoes clicking softly on the stone floor. When someone calls his name, he turns enough to flash them a half-look. His name is on everyone’s lips. His robes are cut to perfection, dark green and silver threads woven just so, a mark of being a pureblood heir and wealth. He sees the girls watching from the corners, cheeks flushed. Some whisper to each other, others just stare in open admiration. The boys in his own house, look at him with a mix of camaraderie and begrudging deference. They share the same colors and the same crest, but not the same steep.

He doesn’t slow down for them. The air around him seems to shimmer with an arrogance that doesn’t need to be spoken aloud.

Everyone knows who he is and what he represents.

He’s about to turn the corner when someone barrels into his shoulder. He glances up, finding himself face-to-face with a student dressed in vivid red.

A Gryffindor.

“Honestly, must you always be this clumsy?” Kai sneers, his voice dripping with scorn as he glares at the boy. There’s no kindness in his eyes, just the sharp gleam of someone who delights in cutting others down. He’s never had patience for Gryffindors, the way they strut around, so certain of their own virtue, as if bravery alone could make them special.

“Watch where you’re going next time,” he adds with a thin smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Or did you leave that famous Gryffindor courage somewhere behind you?”

He hates their pride, their blind sense of righteousness. It’s always been a sore spot for him — the ones in this house always seem so sure of their own moral, so quick to wear it like a crown. They don’t understand real power. They don’t understand how quickly their loud ideals can be torn apart.

“Careful,” he murmurs. “Not everyone here is as forgiving as I am.”

The Gryffindor boy shoves his hands down into his pockets and walks off without a word. Kai’s smirk falters, turning into a disappointed scowl when he realizes he won’t get the reaction he was hoping for.

He turns back to his locker, swinging the door open and rifling through his books. His fingers move. A sudden burst of laughter echoes from the other side of the hallway, loud and grating. He can’t see them, but the harsh, triumphant cackle is enough. Another group of Gryffindors, undoubtedly.

He hates how their lockers are practically pressed up against his own. How he has to see them every day, laughing like the world is theirs for the taking. It makes his skin prickle with annoyance.

He heard them leave.

With a grunt, he shut his own locker and started toward his first class, but not without catching a faint, choked sound from the direction of the lockers he hated so much.

It’s not that he’s curious. It’s not that he wants to see it.

It’s just that it’s on his way, like a grain of sand stuck in his shoe, like a pedestrian standing in the road he needs to cross. A path he has to take, whether he likes it or not.

At the end of the row, a girl is crumpled in defense, her face hidden in her hands. Her shoulders are trembling, the soft, broken sounds slipping past her lips even as she tries to swallow them down. Even from here, he could see the ache written in the curve of her back, in the way her breath hitched and faltered. The world feels too bright around, the hallway too bright and uncaring.

He breathes.

How hurt must she be to let someone else see her so wrecked, so undone?

"I am not the Darkling" he said softly, his eyes searching mine. "I am not the monster you think I am."

You echo the words under your breath, the pages of your battered book trembling slightly in your hands. You feel your eyes burn, but you don't dare blink. The darkling tried dragged her into the dark, but it was her light, Alina, that ended up swallowing him whole.

Fairy tales for the lonely. Lies stitched into paper and ink. Because in the real world, no one survives being consumed by someone else.

And no one asks to be.

“Hey.” You hear your name. When you glance up, Chae Won is standing over you, eyes sharp with contempt.

She’s supposed to be your friend. A fellow Gryffindor.

Without warning, she snatches the book from your hands and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from where you’d been sitting quietly on the floor. “Can we just stop this, please? I—”

“Stop what?” she snaps, already stepping closer. “Crying to Jay? Playing the victim again?” His name stops you cold.

She doesn’t let up. Her hand fists your hair, enough to hurt. “Do you forget you’re a Muggle-born?” she hisses. “And him? He’s everything people want. We were fine before you. You just had to show up, cry to him like some helpless little thing, and now he thinks you're this princess he has to save.”

Chae Won shoves you hard against the lockers. The metal slams cold into your back, the sound echoing down the empty hallway. She leans in, eyes burning, and says the one thing that never stops hurting, no matter how many times you've heard it. “You’re dirty.”

And just like that, you’re six again.

Not here. Not now. But back in that cold, too-quiet house where no one looked like you. Where you sat at the dinner table and watched mouths move around you like you weren’t even there. Where you learned, early and without being told, how to be invisible.

Where no one taught you how to belong.

You don’t say anything. The words are there, caught in your throat, but they taste like shame. They always have.

The afterthought. The charity case. Strange eyes. Odd temper.

You were the one who showed up on the doorstep with nothing but a trunk and a name no one knew how to say. You tried your best to earn your place, to blend in, to make yourself useful, but they still looked at you like you were something foreign. Something misplaced.

In the darkest corners of the night, you wished you’d never gotten the letter. That magic had skipped over you. That your name had never burned through that parchment. Never touched a wand. Maybe then, you could’ve had a normal life. One where you didn’t have to watch your adopted siblings shine in a world that only ever dimmed you.

Because then maybe, just maybe, you’d get to be normal.

Not this. Not the ghost haunting a place that was never yours. Not the muggle-born mistake among children who made spells sing on their tongues, while yours stuttered, cracked, and bled.

You didn’t even feel that you were crying.

Chaewon stares down at you with a cruel smirk, almost entertained by your tears. You’re frozen, your chest tightening, looking like a ghost of yourself. Pathetic. That’s probably what she’s thinking. Then she shoves you again hard. Your body hits the cold locker room tiles with a sickening thud, pain through your spine. You flinch, but you don’t even try to get up.

“Tell anyone,” she sneers, leaning down. “and you’ll regret it.”

They left you right after that.

No one would believe it anyway. You’ve spent your whole life fighting, pretending you're fine, building yourself up just to keep surviving. You wear strength like armor. But now?

Now you’re nothing but shattered pieces on the floor. No one saw you break. No one knows how hard you cried.

No one fucking knows.

"What?" Your voice comes out sharper than you meant, caught off guard.

It was the morning after — after everything and Jay had found you outside like he always does. The golden boy of Gryffindor, the one everyone seemed to adore without question. For months, he'd been chasing you. Sweet smiles, thoughtful words, persistent in his way. He asked you out more times than you could count and a month ago, you said yes.

That was why Chaewon hated you more now than ever.

Jay leans in across the picnic table, casual and unbothered like nothing had shifted in your world. Like you hadn’t spent the night before crumpled on a locker room floor, swallowing sobs and blood.

"I said you should sneak into my dorm later," he repeats. You blink at him. You had planned this picnic, thought maybe today would give you a moment of peace. A needed softness, but now his words float in the air like smoke, invasive and unexpected. He doesn’t notice the way your hands tremble slightly. Or if he does, he says nothing.

You swallow hard.

"Why would I do that? I could get caught," you say, your voice uneasy, the words tumbling out. Jay laughs, it was as if your nerves are a joke to him.

"Come on," he says, grinning. "It’s been a month now. I wanna be with you. Do that thing with you."

Your stomach turns. You might be naive but you’re not stupid. You open your mouth to say something, to maybe ask what he really means, to question the way he’s looking at you like he’s owed something, but he cuts you off. "If you really liked me, you’d do it too. You know?"

You look at him, stunned, like a deer caught in headlights. The boy you thought wanted you for you is now dangling your feelings like bait on a hook. "That... that won’t prove if I like you or not,"

"What do you mean?" he asks, brows furrowing. "So you don’t wanna do it?"

"Of course I would," you say quickly, your throat tightening. "But not right—"

"Not right now?" He scoffs, shaking his head. "That’s always your excuse."

"Excuse?"

He leans back, annoyed. "You know, if you don’t want me, just say it."

You freeze. His next words come out in a bitter, quiet mumble, like he doesn’t even realize he’s saying them aloud. "If this wasn’t for a stupid bet, I wouldn’t—"

"What?" Your voice is almost breathless. Cold rushes through your chest like someone ripped the air straight from your lungs. He doesn’t answer. His eyes widen, just for a second — just long enough to tell you everything you needed to know.

Your mind races. You remember the guilt that bloomed in your chest every time you turned him down, thinking you were the one being difficult. You remember how sad he looked when you said no, how it made you feel like you were failing him. How you apologized for it, over and over, thinking you were the one ruining things.

You remember trying, really trying to open up. The effort it took to prioritize someone else's wants over your own. The nights you rehearsed words in your head, how to say things gently, carefully, so he wouldn't feel rejected. You remember the ache of being left out, how his friends would talk around you like you were invisible. The silence when you spoke. The forced smiles when they laughed at jokes you didn’t understand because they were never meant for you.

You remember Chaewon's cruelty and you remember convincing yourself it was all worth it because he chose you.

"I was a fucking bet?" Your voice comes out hoarse. You stare at him, this boy who once looked like something good. Something kind. All that softness you thought you saw in him feels like a lie now.

You can feel the fire start to rise in your blood. You wore the same house colors.

"I—It was from the start, but then—"

“We’re done.” A blade slipped between the ribs.

You stand, your eyes focused on anything but him. You don’t look at the people beginning to notice, don’t care about the whispers. Your chest is hollow and screaming, but your face doesn’t show it. You walk the grounds like your heart isn’t shattering with every step.

You feel him behind you, his frantic footsteps, his form clinging to your shadow. You feel the stares, the weight of every eye on you.

"Can we please talk?" he pleads, his hand wraps around your wrist.

You turn your head and slap his face so hard it echoes. He doesn’t even get to process it before your foot collides with his, a sharp kick that throws him off balance. Pain, humiliation — all of it written across his face now for everyone to see.

“I said we’re done.” Your voice cracks but not out of weakness. It cracks from the sheer force of holding back everything you could’ve screamed. "You're evil."

He’s looking at you now like he’s the one broken. You turn, this time for good. Your body is trembling, anxiety crawling beneath your skin like a thousand needles, but your steps are steady. You're done.

Kai lounged on the stairway, tuning out the crude, drunken laughter of his housemates as they bragged about the girls they’d had the night before. Their voices blurred into nothing. His eyes scanned the grounds lazily, flashes of yellow, green, blue, red, the usual mess of students he barely cared to notice.

He saw you.

He saw you and remember how you cried that night.

He leaned forward without thinking, resting his chin on his hand, the world narrowing to just you. Everything else fell away against the blinding, face of yours. You moved with a kind of arrogance he recognized instantly: head high, steps sharp, like the world didn’t deserve you. The fire in your eyes. Typical of your house — spoiled, untouchable. He should’ve been bored.

He couldn’t look away. He couldn't stop hearing remembering your soft whimpers the night before.

A boy in red caught up to you, fumbling for your attention, desperate to be seen. Kai watched, as you turned to him with a look of pure disdain. The boy stammered something, like he was apologizing. You slapped him. Hard.

Kai’s mouth curved into a slow, wicked grin.

You didn’t stop there. You kicked the boy’s foot out from under him, angrily spat a few words he couldn’t catch, and walked off, not even glancing back. Kai’s eyes stayed locked on you, tracking every furious step you took across the grounds. You tried to hide it; the tremble in your hands, the way you blinked too fast but he caught it.

You're crying.

His chest tightened, something crawled under his skin. How much sweeter would it be if he were the one to do it? He could already picture it: your pride, your voice breaking, your pretty face crumpling; under his hands, under his mouth, under his name. Not for some sniveling boy, but for him.

Only him.

You didn’t even know his name. He stayed where he was, eyes following your broken form.

Kai had grown up as the only son of a pureblood family, where reputation bled deeper than blood, and control was not a suggestion but a rule etched into the spine of every morning. He was taught to be composed, restrained, untouchable — never too loud, never too soft. Smile, but not too often. Speak, but only when it matters. Feel, but never let it show.

He’d been raised that way.

His life was built on legacy. Emotions were weakness. Kindness was liability. He was not held, not comforted, not loved — only shaped.

They carved obedience into him like marble.

He watched his father hold entire rooms in silence with nothing but a stare. Watched him speak to people as if their existence was a favor, an inconvenience he barely tolerated and everyone listened. Everyone bowed. He learned early that power wasn’t just about magic.

He wore it well. Better than most.

He learned how to mimic empathy without feeling it. He learned how to laugh on cue, how to listen without caring, how to look someone in the eye while thinking of a thousand other things.

He drifted through life half-asleep, wearing the world like an ill-fitting coat. Friends, lovers, enemies; it was all noise. Meaningless. Predictable.

You were raw, undone, human. Everything he wasn’t. Everything he had been taught to crush.

What would it take to ruin you completely?

With every difiance in his body he stood up. He found himself taking step forward. Kai moved before he realized he was moving.

The sound of his housemates' laughter faded behind him, smothered under the pounding in his ears. He descended the steps with the same cold precision he was raised with, but something feral stirred beneath his ribs. His strides were steady, calculated, like a shadow stretching to meet its mark.

You were walking fast, too fast, your back stiff and your steps clipped. Anger clung to you like perfume, sharp and choking. He trailed you from a safe distance, ignoring the students who brushed past, oblivious. All he saw was the set of your shoulders, the shake in your hands. He could practically taste the heat radiating off you.

You turned a corner. So did he.

You passed the greenhouses, cut through the arch, your pace stuttering as if your own breath was betraying you. You didn’t notice him. Or maybe you did. Maybe you felt it — that feeling like you're being watched, hunted. The air changed around you.

Kai waited until you slowed near the old stone path that led toward the empty wing of the castle. Then he spoke.

His voice didn’t waver. “Why did you hit him?”

You stopped walking.He watched your back rise with a breath, then you turned.

Your eyes met. For the first time.

Up close, you looked even more dangerous. Even more breakable. Fire and ruin, cloaked in pride. Your lips were trembling, but your jaw was clenched. He took a slow step closer, tilting his head slightly, studying your face like it was a spell he hadn’t learned yet. Something unreadable flickered in your eyes — recognition? fear? anger?

He spoke again. “Is he the one who made you cry?”

Your fingers curled at your sides. You narrowed your eyes, not answering, as if silence could keep you safe.

Kai smiled, cruel. “You're not very good at hiding it.”

“I heard you last night,” he said, voice so calm it almost sounded kind. “In the hallway. You were crying.”

Your expression twisted. “Were you spying on me?”

“Observing,” he corrected, as if it mattered. “You’re... difficult to ignore.”

You scowled and turned to walk away, but this time he moved,faster than you expected, cutting into your path. “Your name,” he said. “Tell me.”

You stared at him like he was insane. Like something in him wasn't right and you were right. Something wasn't right. “What, so you can tell your little pureblood friends? Have a laugh?”

“So I'll know what to call you.”

Your breath hitched. He didn’t smile this time. His eyes dropped to your mouth, then back to your eyes. He could see it, the flicker of panic behind your bravado, the instinct to run, the ache in your throat from holding everything in. And yet, you didn’t move. You stayed rooted.

Still burning. Still human.

Still too much for someone like him.

“You're insane,” you said.

“I've been told.” Kai murmured. The wind caught your hair, brushing it across your cheek. His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach out and touch it, feel if it was as soft as it looked, feel if you would flinch. “Tell me your name,” he said again.

You stared at him for a long time. Seconds stretched like hours. A war in your eyes, as you spoke your name. Maybe if you gave him your name, he would leave you alone.

“Wasn’t hard,” he said softly, almost mockingly. “Was it?”

He stared at you for a second longer, and when you didnt answer him he turned and walked away; no grand gestures, no parting words. A slow retreat, like he’d taken exactly what he came for. You stayed frozen in place, blinking hard, as if shaking off some invisible fog. The anger you felt with Jay minutes ago completely erased in your mind.

You told yourself he was just another entitled, pureblood brat playing mind games. But somehow… you knew he wasn’t done with you.

It was a surprise that you didn't cry a tear when you returned to your dorms that night.

The sun filtered through the high windows in thin, silver lines, catching on the dust that hovered in the still morning air. Breakfast chatter filled the Great Hall.

You walked in alone. As usual.

Your boots echoed softly against the stone as you passed through the threshold, robes hanging heavy off one shoulder, the collar of your uniform just slightly wrinkled. Your hair was pulled back, but loose strands clung to your cheeks from where you’d barely bothered to dry it. There were shadows under your eyes. A bruise of exhaustion, of restraint.

People noticed. They always did.

You could feel it, the way heads tilted toward each other when they thought you weren’t looking, how eyes followed you just long enough to make your skin crawl. It wasn’t new.

That’s her, they’d whisper. Muggleborn. Dangerous. Did you hear what she did to that Golden boy? How dare she?

You could’ve explained. You could’ve said he tricked you. Said he turned you into a bet, but you’d learned a long time ago, they never really wanted your side of the story.

You crossed the room, spine straight, steps controlled, passing the long tables like you didn’t notice the silence blooming around you like mold. You sat at the edge of your table. Your plate filled with food, untouched by your hand. A flick of your fingers beneath the table, no wand. No words.

A few first-years flinched.

Your fingers hovered over the rim of your goblet, then curled back. You weren’t hungry. You hadn’t slept much. A voice still rang in your head like a spell that hadn’t worn off.

“So I'll know what to call you.”

Kai sat three tables over, surrounded by his housemates; all perfectly-groomed pureblood sons and daughters of old families, boys with bloodlines like poisoned roots. He wasn’t speaking. He rarely did, but his gaze was fixed on you like a blade laid flat across your skin. He didn’t look smug. He didn’t smirk. He just watched. As if you were something worth waiting for.

You held his gaze. Steadily.

He didn’t look away. The last time you locked eyes with someone like that, they ended up on the floor, clutching their ribs, coughing blood, but Kai didn’t flinch.

He simply raised a single brow, like he was inviting you to do it. Daring you. Testing the temperature of your fury. You clenched your jaw and shoved your chair back, the scrape echoing louder than it should’ve.

Screw the eggs. Screw the toast. Screw this whole bloody castle and the way it always stank of legacy and rot.

And just as you stood, “Filthy little freak. Thinks she’s special.”

Your fingers twitched. You didn’t need a wand. The goblet in front of the boy crushed. Water soaked his robes. Gasps echoed. You didn’t look back. You kept walking.

You weren’t afraid of what you could do. You were afraid of how easy it was now.

The doors slammed behind you as you left the Great Hall, but you didn’t get far. You’d barely made it into the courtyard, “Well, if it isn’t our little wandless wonder.” The steps behind you were deliberate. Stiletto-sharp. The sound of privilege. You turned around.

Chae-won stood there, arms folded, robes pristine, her platinum hair twisted in a perfect knot that screamed power. Her prefect badge gleamed on her chest like it mattered. And behind her, always behind her. trailed two other girls.

“Chae-won,” you said flatly.

Her smile was razor-thin. “Did you think we wouldn’t hear? Poor Jay.”

“What?”

“You slapped him. Humiliated him. In front of everyone,” she hissed. “He was apologizing, you freak.”

“You know nothing.”

Chae-won’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, please. He did something, or what? That gives you the right to act like some dark creature in the middle of the grounds?”

You didn’t flinch. “I said you know nothing.”

Chae-won blinked, her voice lowered to something crueler. “So? Do we care about a mudblood like you?”

You looked at her. Really looked. And wondered how many people had handed her the world and called it earned. You remember the first year you were friends, the first year she knew all of you, and the once smile on your face whenever you see her. It all became a blur when people looked at you as a misfit.

Your hands twitched again.

“You planning to explode something else?” Chae-won taunted. “Go on. Show us what you can do. Everyone’s already terrified. Might as well give them a real show.”

You stepped forward. “You want to know the difference between you and me?” Chae-won raised a brow.

“I have power. You just have a last name.”

Her jaw tightened, but before she could respond, before she could reach for her wand or hurl another insult, a voice broke through from behind: “Chae-won.” She froze.

Kai stood a few feet away, arms crossed, eyes locked not on her but on you.

“I’d stop if I were you,” he said, calm, lazy, terrifying.

Chae-won blinked like she hadn’t heard him right. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not repeating myself,” His shoulder brushed yours, intentional as he passed and stood between you and her. Not defending you, but as if staking a claim.

Chae-won’s face burned. “This has nothing to do with you, Kai.”

“It does.”

She stood there for a second, jaw clenched, then scoffed. “Figures. Your house never know where to keep your standards.” Then with one last look at you, all venom and fury, she turned and stormed off, her little shadows flurrying after her.

You looked at Kai. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He didn’t look at you. “I didn’t do it for you.” And yet, he was still standing there. Still between you and the world.

You hated how you lived your years.

You hated the way your life had built itself around survival; around silence, around swallowing things that no one else ever seemed to choke on. You hated that you were born like this, like a wrong answer in a question nobody asked.

You hated that once, long ago, you’d called Chae-won your friend. That you’d laughed with her, studied with her, braided her hair in the dormitory mirror. You hated that she knew all the parts of you worth breaking and now she used them like blades.

You hated that even now being Muggleborn wasn’t enough. Wasn’t already a mark on your back. No, you had to be different, too. You had to wield wandless, wordless magic, the kind they couldn’t control, couldn’t track, couldn’t replicate and that made them stare, like you were unnatural.

You hated that, out of all the people in this castle, the one who wouldn’t look away was him.

Kai. A stranger. A Slytherin. A boy born with a silver knife in his mouth, and the gall to look at you like he saw past your fury, like he saw you about to break.

You walked away; fast, sharp steps that echoed off the stone corridor — hoping he wouldn’t follow.

He did.

You didn’t stop him. You hated that, too.

You didn’t speak, didn’t glance back, you kept walking until the hallway emptied behind you. Until there were no portraits, no prefects, no Chae-won, no whispering mouths. A stone and silence and the feeling of someone watching you like a match watches a flame.

When you reached the end of the corridor, where the light didn’t quite reach and the air felt still and forgotten, you stopped. Your shoulders rose once, then fell. The first sob cracked out of your chest so violently it startled even you.

You tried to cover it, your hand flying up to your mouth, like that would make it less pathetic, but it didn’t matter. You were already shaking, already crying, already too human to stop it now.

Behind you, he didn’t say anything.

You sank down against the wall slowly, like your legs had given out — not from fear, not from pain but from carrying it all too long. The silence between you pulsed, thick and unkind, and still he stayed. No comfort. No lies.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” you whispered, not even knowing if you meant your life, or this day, or this moment. Maybe all of it. You could feel his eyes on you. You could feel the way he was listening.

“What do you want from me?” you asked, voice raw.

You wiped your cheek with the back of your hand, angry at yourself for crying like this in front of him of all people. Your lips trembled, and your vision blurred, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

And Kai just sat there.

Watching. Unmoving. Unbothered.

Or so you thought.

Kai exhaled slowly, like a man tired of waiting, because watching you; ruined, furious, crying and still managing to burn like a goddamn wildfire — it made something unravel inside him. Something unholy. Something that clawed its way up from beneath all the manners and legacy and careful obedience.

You, with your defiance. You, with your trembling hands and splintering voice. You, who didn’t even look his way.

You felt too much. You burned too brightly. You cracked in places he didn’t understand. You cried like it meant something. You fought like the world still owed you something soft.

A single, smooth motion and before you could ask what he was doing, before you could read the shift in his expression, he was standing over you. Looking down at you like you were a problem he couldn’t solve, like you were noise in his carefully constructed world of silence.

His jaw twitched. “I don’t like messy things,”

You opened your mouth, to apologize, to yell, to tell him to leave but your voice didn’t come.

Instead, he crouched down. Slowly. His hand reached out, not toward your face, but beside it, bracing against the wall near your shoulder, boxing you in. His other hand hovered near your chin, pausing midair. A breath. A hesitation. Something nearly human.

He kissed you.

Your fingers curled in the fabric of your robes. Your chest ached from the sobs you hadn’t finished, from the weight of the day, from the way his mouth pressed against yours like it was the only language he knew.

It wasn’t sweet. It was hungry.

He tasted like someone who hadn’t felt anything in years and hated that you made him want to. His hand moved to your jaw, holding it, not harsh but unrelenting.

His breath was unsteady when he pulled back. So was yours.

Your tear-slick lashes fluttered as you stared at him, chest rising and falling with everything you hadn’t said, everything you didn’t understand.

Kai didn’t blink. You didn't too.

You weren’t sure who looked more shaken.

“Stop crying,” he said. “It ruins your face.”

It was past curfew when the door creaked open.

A soft, deliberate sound, barely loud enough to disturb the quiet hum of sleeping breaths in the girls' dorm. The enchanted lanterns were low, casting dull golden shadows across the hardwood floor.

You were curled on your side, blanket kicked off, facing the wall like it might protect you from the dreams that had been growing more vivid lately — filled with brown eyes, the weight of a stare, the press of a mouth that never should have touched yours.

It has been a week since he kissed you, and all he did now was consume you.

You heard a slow footstep across the floorboards that didn’t belong. You sat up in an instant. Your hand instinctively curled, breath caught in your throat.

It was him.

Kai stood there leaning just inside the doorway like he owned the place. His eyes flicked over the room, over the slumbering forms of your roommates, and then back to you.

You were too stunned to speak. He shut the door behind him with a careful click.

“You can’t be here,” you whispered.

“Then tell me to leave.” He said it like he already knew you wouldn’t.

He didn’t move toward you. “I won’t skulk around and pretend I don’t know what I want.”

You swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how your heart was hammering. Of the ache in your hands from clenching them too tight under the blanket. Of the way you hadn’t breathed properly in hours.

His voice lowered. “I wanted to see you.”

You looked at him then. Really looked. His hair was messy from wind or sleep, his collar half-open. His expression, unreadable as ever, but void of any smug.

His look scared you more than any smirk ever had.

You were walking to your next class, trying to keep your head down, your thoughts together, your breathing even.

Kai walked beside you. Beside you. Shoulder to shoulder, step for step, like he belonged there and he wasn’t hiding it, either. He was adamant in the way he moved.

You rounded the corner and saw them.

Jay was seated on the ledge just outside the main stairwell, one arm slung lazily around Chae-won’s waist as she perched in his lap. They looked like a painting, like every pureblood fantasy the school worshiped. Perfect posture, perfect hair, perfect detachment. Chae-won was smiling; a perfect, cold little curve of her mouth that never quite reached her eyes while Jay just stared.

He saw you before you saw him. His gaze locked with yours, cold and pointed, like you’d wronged him. As if he were the victim. Chae-won didn’t even glance your way, but she leaned in just enough to whisper something in his ear, and though he didn’t smile, something in his jaw flexed. His hand tightened on her hip and suddenly, you couldn’t breathe.

Your vision went blurry. Your throat tightened. The corridor felt too bright, too narrow, the sounds too loud, too far away. Your breath stuttered; shallow, clipped, your heart racing like you’d been running.

Kai's gaze move from your face to your hands, where they clenched and twitched at your sides. You tried to blink it all away, tried to keep walking like nothing was happening, but your body had betrayed you.

“Has this happened before?” His voice came low.

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your limbs felt heavy and useless, and the corridor seemed to stretch further with every step. You were floating and falling all at once. You barely noticed when his hand reached for you, until you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist — not tightly, not to restrain, but to feel.

He pressed his thumb lightly over the spot just above your pulse. He didn’t need words to know. The panic was there, thundering under your skin, alive and frantic and loud enough to silence everything else. His brow furrowed. “You’re panicking.”

The words landed heavy, simple and precise. You flinched like he’d struck a nerve, tried to pull your arm back, but he didn’t let go.

“You don’t get to worry about me,” you snapped, voice sharp and broken at the edges, as if saying it out loud could make it true.

Kai tilted his head, expression unreadable. He didn’t react to your words. He didn’t need to. He just looked at you like you were the one thing in this corridor that mattered. And then he said, calm and quiet, “Continue walking with me.”

It wasn’t a plea. It wasn’t even a request and you hated that your legs obeyed before your mind could fight it. Hated that some fragile part of you wanted to keep walking, if only he stayed beside you.

You closed your eyes for half a second, just enough for the tears to sting. You wouldn’t let them fall, not here, not with them still behind you but your chest ached, and the shame pressed hot against your throat.

His hand found yours again.

His fingers slipped through yours like it was instinct, and then he held on careful, steady, like he was holding something breakable. You kept walking. One step after the other.

He walked with you ike the entire castle wasn’t watching, but even if they were, he didn’t let go.

“So, you’re Kai’s girlfriend?”

You looked up from the ancient, half-crumbling book in your hand and blinked at the girl now standing beside you in the dim library aisle. She was dressed in green and silver and wore the kind of smile that had probably gotten her everything she ever wanted.

“Pretty,” she added, tilting her head slightly, eyes raking over you not with curiosity.

“I’m not,” you replied evenly, turning back to the shelf, hoping she’d take the hint but her presence didn’t waver. You could feel her shadow shift with yours. She followed as you stepped further down the aisle, her footsteps light but intentional.

“I’m Yunjin, by the way,” she said. Her voice had that lilting quality warm, but not soft. “I always see him around you. I mean, everyone’s noticed. It’s kind of hard to miss, the whole... obsession he has with you.”

Your fingers paused mid-reach. Obsession?

“And I guess,” she continued casually, “that must be the reason he stopped seeing me.”

“…What?” The word left your mouth before you could hold it in, too stunned to coat it in disinterest.

“Oh, don’t worry.” She gave a light, musical laugh. “It wasn’t serious. Kai doesn’t do serious. He’s unwell. Emotionally, I mean. Brilliant, but broken. The type of boy you keep behind glass until he cuts you with it.” She said it like she knew. Like she’d bled.

You stared at her. Her smile didn’t falter. If anything, it widened. “But I do see something different now,” she added, “He looks at you… differently.”

You expected cruelty to follow. A sharp comment tucked behind a smile. A passive-aggressive jab meant to draw blood beneath the surface because that’s how it usually came, wasn’t it? From the people who knew how to dress poison up in perfume.

You thought of Chae-won. A girl from your own house. People from your own house who doesn't even dare to smile at you. It was strange, wasn’t it? That someone from your own house had been so much crueler than the students from the house everyone warned you about.

So much crueller than Kai. Than Yunjin.

“Why are you being kind to me?” you asked, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Yunjin tilted her head like she was trying to decide whether to laugh again. Then, with a small shrug, she said, “What?”

You held her gaze, unflinching.

She exhaled through her nose, almost amused. “Oh. Yeah.” There was a flicker of something beneath her expression then something real. “I’m ambitious,” she said. “And if being ambitious makes me a bad person… then I guess I’m a Slytherin.”

You were sitting in your bed, knees tucked loosely to your chest, the blankets crumpled around you like a forgotten thought. The castle was quieter than usual. Music pulsed faintly from somewhere down the hall. There was a party for your batch tonight; a celebration, one you were meant to attend, smile through, pretend for.

Instead, you were here. Alone.

You were counting the minutes.

The door opened without urgency, a soft sound not trying to sneak, not trying to impress. You didn’t turn your head. You didn’t need to. You already knew who it was.

Kai stood in the doorway like the rest of the room didn’t matter. His eyes swept across the space, landed on you, on your still form in the sheets, on the way your gaze had already been waiting for him.

“You knew I would come,” he said.

“Yes,”

He strode toward you with his usual measured grace, never rushed, never nervous and you moved slightly on the bed. “You never told me anything about you,” you said, and your voice didn’t accuse, “You’re always around. You help me. You... show up but you never talk.”

Kai looked at you, and there was something different in his eyes tonight. “What do you want to know?” he asked.

You didn’t blink. “You.”

There was a long pause.

Long enough that you thought he wouldn’t answer. Long enough to feel the ache of expectation rise in your chest, but then Kai huffed, soft through his nose, and there was a shape to it that almost — almost — sounded like a laugh. Not the full thing, but the ghost of it.

You wondered, not for the first time, what he sounded like when he really laughed.

Your eyes flicked to the empty space beside you, and you shifted further inward on the bed, a small movement, but clear.

He caught it.

He sat on the edge of your bed, hands resting on his thighs, the weight of him sinking into the mattress beside you. His posture was still too careful, still too contained, but he was there.

“I don’t talk about myself,” he said suddenly.

You didn’t answer. You knew better than to fill silence that didn’t ask to be filled. Kai exhaled softly, the sound shallow. Measured. Then he looked up, his eyes distant but focused on you, like he was reading from a page only he could see. “I was raised to be an heir. Not a person.”

You didn’t flinch. He noticed that. It made him keep going.

“My father were strict. He didn’t believe in wasting time on things like comfort, or affection. If I cried, he said it was noise. If I asked questions, he told me to read faster. If I smiled too easily, he asked if I was bored, or foolish.” He paused. Not for effect. To breathe.

“He had this saying. You were not born to be loved. You were born to lead. And I repeated it to myself every morning. For years. Until it didn’t sound like cruelty anymore.” he shakes his head, “When I was five, I learned how to duel with a real wand. When I was seven, he started leaving me alone in the manor for days. Said it would teach me independence. I didn’t speak to anyone for weeks.”

His voice didn’t shake. Not once. He didn’t sound angry. He didn’t even sound sad. He sounded like someone explaining the weather. Like grief was just another season he’d already lived through.

“I don’t know how to talk about feelings,” he admitted. “I know how to talk around them. How to look someone in the eye and not let them touch a single part of me.”

He looked at you again. “But then I saw you.” The words weren’t loud. They weren’t dramatic. “I didn’t mean to care. I don’t know how to. But I do. I hear your voice in my head even when I try to ignore it. I look for you when you’re not around.”

“And when you’re upset, I want to fix it.” His hands unclasped slowly, then gripped the edge of the bed. “I want to fix it because it’s you.”

You moved closer. He didn’t stop you. He just looked at you like you were the first warmth in a life made of glass and granite and rules. “I hate how much I feel now,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to go back.”

His words made you reach out the back of his neck and pull him to you. You hugged him and you let out a shaky breath. "I'm here. I'm here Kai."

Two strong arms snaked around your waist as soon as you said those words, and Kai's lips were against your nape. He left trails of kisses on your neck up to the back of your ears, his body pressed on yours. "Good."

He presses a few more soft kisses to the back of your head, then his voice drops to a whisper against your ear. “Can I touch you?” Your breath hitches, but you nod. His hand slips beneath your shirt, fingers brushing lightly across your stomach. “Can I touch you here?” he asks, voice gentle.

You nod again, barely able to get the word out. “Yeah.”

His hand travels higher, fingertips gliding up until they meet the bare curve of your chest. He pauses, just long enough to make your heart race. His lips are at your neck now, breath hot. “Here too?”

When he feels you nod, his hand moves with more purpose, fingertips gliding over the curve of your breast. He cups you fully, palm warm, thumb brushing the softness, squeezing just enough to make you arch subtly into his touch. He teases, exploring everywhere except where you need him most, drawing out the ache with every careful touch. When his fingers finally graze your nipple, a quiet moan slips from your lips before you can stop it. He pauses, his breath brushing against your neck. “You can tell me to stop anytime.”

Then he pulls his hand away from under your shirt, and the sudden absence makes you whine, your body instinctively chasing after his warmth. Before you can speak, he cups your face gently, tilting your head until your eyes meet. It’s dark but he's close, so close — you can make out the shape of his face, the softness in his gaze.

He leans in, brushing a featherlight kiss over your lips. Then another. You smile softly, breath mingling, and when your lips part, he takes it as invitation. This time the kiss is deep — hungry. His mouth moves against yours with desperation, like he’s been craving your taste for far too long. His hand finds your waist, tugging you closer, bodies aligning in all the right ways as the heat between you builds.

“I want you,” you whisper, voice barely there, lost in the way his lips trail along your neck, warm and wet. “Please.”

He pauses just enough to meet your gaze, then his hand slips between your thighs, cupping you through the fabric. The pressure makes your hips jerk, breath hitching.

“Here?” he murmurs, rubbing slow, teasing circles. “You want me here?”

It’s too much, and not enough. Heat pools low in your belly, a need that feels raw and overwhelming. You nod, biting your lip, your voice trembling. “Yes. There. Please.”

He groans, low and deep, and that’s when clothes start disappearing—slowly, messily. Every layer peeled off is interrupted by his mouth; on your lips, your jaw, your collarbones. His hands, greedy and gentle all at once, explore you like he’s memorizing every inch. The room is filled with nothing but breath, the soft rustle of fabric, the occasional hitch of a moan.

When he finally sinks lower, eyes locked on yours as his lips trace a burning path down your body, you don’t stop him.

“Kai…” You moaned as you clenched your fist on his dark locks. His tongue was doing to your buds as his fingers part your wet folds. You don't know what it is, but it makes your legs quivered as his tongue lapped at your entrance.

Kai grunts as he hears your soft moans, sucking on your clit to hear more. Your taste in his mouth got him drunk as he shook his head from side to side, making your moans go higher as you moved your hips to grind your wetness on his tongue. "Hmm?"

He pulled back, replacing his tongue with his thumb, rubbing her wet clit as he kissed and sucked your inner thighs. Your eyes rolled back as your chest rose up and down, glistening with sweat.

You're fucking beautiful. Kai thought as he looked up at you with hooded eyes. The sight of your blushing cheeks, eyes asking for more with your lips between your teeth made Kai slightly rut his hips on the bed.

"Do you know how long have I imagined this?" He pumped a finger inside your pussy, curling it to hit your spot as he put his mouth back to work again, flattening his tongue over your swollen pearl before flicking it with the tip. You cried out in pleasure, throwing your head back.

“I couldn't help myself but think of you.” He begged as he doubled the finger inside your soaking cunt, making you cry out in pleasure as your hands grabbed the pillow under your head.

“I can't resist having all of you.” He kissed your clit, making you whimper at the brief contact. He took off his shirt and pants before pulling you by your arm, sitting you on his lap as he took off your blouse and bra. He kissed around your nipple before taking it into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.

He moved your position to grind on his bulge, letting out quiet moans as he desperately kissed you. He stopped your hips as he moved to your other nipple, lightly biting it while staring at your glossy eyes, making your breath hitch. He hummed as he sucked the pebbled flesh into his mouth, nibbling on it. He laid your back down, admiring your body as you panted. Your eyes are glistening, and so is your cunt. He groaned at the sight, pushing his hair back and taking his erected cock out of its confinement. He pumped it a few times before you sat up and took it into your hand.

“Let me make you feel good.” Kai stopped your hand, giving a kiss on your forehead. “Fuck.” He murmured as he moved to your lips, sucking on them, making you whimper as you laid back down again.

“Kai, please…” You cried when Kai started to rub his shaft on your slit. Every time his head hits your bud, you let out a whimper, eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide as you look up at him.

Kai took his time, grunting before pushing the tip inside. You gasped, grabbing the sheets under, feeling the pain as his length invade you. Your walls fluttered around his cock, making him let out low growls. You felt tears in your eyes as you watched half of his length disappear inside you. Kai took your hand, intertwining your fingers. He kissed your tears.

“Am I hurting you?” Kai shushed when you hissed, feeling a hint of pain as he filled you. His other hand began rubbing circles on your clit to ease the burn from the stretch.

"No,"

Kai kissed your hand when he was entirely in, giving you time to adjust. You look gorgeous underneath him. Legs wide open,mouth slightly parted, and body glistening under the dim lights of his room.

Kai started moving slowly when you nod your head, until your whimpers turned into moans. His name echoed in whispers, as you clawed on the skin of his back, leaving red marks. He was cradling your head, and his lips pressed on your ear. He was whispering the sweetest things to you.

“The things you do to me,” Kai whispers, kissing your ear lobes. "I can't even look at anyone else now."

“Yes, yes, Kai, please…” You begged as his hips started to thrust harder into you.

“Fuck.” He groaned, feeling your walls clench around him. He could tell that you were both close. Your walls spasmed around him, and his thrust started to stutter.

“Look at me.” He stared into your eyes, feeling your orgasm take over your body. His mouth reaches for your sweet lips, your toes curling as your legs wrap around his waist. Kai thrustied into you a few more times before pulling out to spill his thick load on your thighs.

It was slow, and it was soft, the way he helped you clean up. No magic. Just his hands and yours, sleeves rolled up, fingers brushing as you folded the same blanket twice just to have an excuse to linger near each other. The silence between you wasn’t heavy. It wasn’t awkward. It was full.

Your scent clung to the air; a little floral, a little tangy, something warm and alive, like late spring clinging to skin. It was in the sheets, in the corners of the room, in him. He’d never been the type to notice things like that, but here he was, trying to memorize how the air felt with you in it.

You were fussing with the pillows now, distracted, focused on symmetry but he was just watching you.

“I’m going to work every day,” His voice was low, almost rough with restraint. “I’ll work every fucking day, just to follow you.”

You feel your eyes burn.

“I’ll learn how to move the way you do. I’ll learn how to speak the way you understand. I’ll change the way I live if that’s what it takes. Every single day, I’ll do it, just to fit you.”

“Why?” you asked, voice almost a whisper. “Why would you change for me?”

Kai’s eyes found yours. “Because you made me want to,”

It's the truest thing he’d ever said in his life.

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#crying #sobbing #throwing up #is this how i get to meet my idol #GEEKING SOOO MUCH #feedbacks #my favourite feedback of all time omg

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dawngyu · 8 days ago