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luvlybeomie · 1 year

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painted confessions - c.bg

Pairing: beomgyu x fem!reader Warnings: none, beomgyu is just really soft, unintended picasso slander Genre: fluff, pining, bittersweet ending Word count: 2.2k (this was longer than i intended it to be lmao)

YOU AND BEOMGYU were currently sitting on the floor in your living room, crossed-legged and facing one another. The both of you had just finished a long day of nonsense at school, and had headed to your house as per usual to unwind.

Earlier however, you found some face-paint tucked away in one of the cupboards in your kitchen after fetching some glasses for drinks – there were a few palettes left over from your little sister's birthday party a couple weeks ago.

Hence, with the house to yourselves, the both of you agreed it would be fun to indulge yourselves in the activity, whilst also reliving a childhood memory.

With torn-out magazines and newspapers scattered across the floor, the both of you sat in silence as you painted random things on each other's skins. Which came as a surprise to you, since you would've expected Beomgyu to be making ruckus with some witty comments and teasing by now.

But as you shift your focus away from your craft, you notice the concentrated look plastered on his features. Despite the small and cold strokes you felt across against your cheek, he seemed strangely preoccupied with his thoughts. Beomgyu actually appeared excited at the start, jokingly boasting about how he was going to turn you into some sort of 'masterpiece' or something.

Yet now, it was like he was taking this all too seriously.

You clear your throat to break the silence, straightening your back.

"Is it looking like Van Gogh?" You suddenly joke with a small smile, referring to whatever he seemed to be working on, "you seem pretty into it."

The question however seems to catch Beomgyu off guard as he flicks his eyes towards you, looking almost startled. He blinks once, then twice, before blinking once more. He shoots you a sheepish grin, but was quick to come up with a reply.

"....I'd say more like Picasso."

In actuality, Beomgyu wasn't as immersed as you thought he was.

He had been heedlessly painting random nothings across your skin for a while now (except for the bootleg Pikachu on your cheek that he painted at the start), which unintentionally ended up looking like some abstract piece altogether – so technically, he wasn't lying.

In fact, he had been focusing solely on you.

After all, it was the only reason why he agreed to do all of this.

With the way you were both sitting, he was given the opportunity to be this physically close to you without having to try find ways to do so. It was somewhat intimate with the proximity between you, and it sent a fluttery sensation to Beomgyu's stomach. It left him barely being able to contain the shuffling he did on the cushion he sat on.

He also tried so, so hard to not stare at you for too long, mentally reminding himself to look away once in a while, and pretend to get more paint or rinse his brush. He didn't want to look like a creep.

But otherwise, he would allow himself to soak in and admire your features.

Like the way your hair fell naturally, yet so perfectly, forcing Beomgyu to resist the urge to run his fingers through your hair...

The way you're protruding your lower lip into a small pout, face etched in concentration, which he desired to leave small kisses on and all over...

The content look in your eyes that shone behind your long lashes, that he often found himself falling so helplessly into...

The softness of your hands as your fingers swiped across his cheeks to remove smudges of paint, which Beomgyu wanted to hold onto for endless hours...

And the way you made his heart leap so effortlessly as your warm breath touched his cheek, your face leaning dangerously to inspect his own...

Beomgyu could honestly go on and on about what he admired about you.

After all, he was so utterly and completely enamoured by you.

His friends would often tease him about how obvious he acted at school – the longing glances he would send your way when you weren't looking, and the way he would always be seeking your company and be talking about you in every conversation. They could've been talking about the most obscure subject ever, and Beomgyu would somehow always manage to squeeze in and mention you.

At lunch, he would always reserve a seat next to his and buy you a drink or snack from the nearby vending machine. They would all jokingly puke at how sweet he became when it came to you. Usually a prankster and menace, they would scoff when he would become absolute mush in your presence.

But overall, his friends were genuinely happy for Beomgyu. Yeonjun especially would often pester him about making a move and confessing his feelings to you.

But the mere thought of it possibly ruining your long existing friendship, Beomgyu was content with the way things are now. He was fine...well, at least that's what he kept telling himself.

Soon the atmosphere was picked up where it left off as you shrugged off his sudden switch in demeanour as nothing more than self-absorption. The both of you once again fell into the same silence. And yet again, Beomgyu found himself in the same little routine of his, admiring you quietly as he dipped his brush into the cup full of mucky water between you.

Even now, your face decorated with a pretty bad paint job, he thought you looked beautiful. You were perfect in his eyes, more so than any other masterpiece.

He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have someone like you in his life. He saw you as the string that held him together at his lowest, and the shining light in his darkest days. You were incredibly patient and understanding. Despite being known for his bright image at school, very few only knew about his subtle, quiet side. You taught and made him realise that it was okay to show vulnerability, that he didn’t need to fake a persona and smile all the time.

It scared him how attached he was to you, overwhelming him at times. He knew that he was still young – the both of you were, almost nearing the end of high-school. The both of you would then go into college, and perhaps not the same ones. You'll be bound to meet new people and so will he. But something in the back of his head, told him–no, screamed at him that he will never find someone like you.

Beomgyu may be unsure of a lot of things, but he was so certain about you.

Swiping his brush across some glittery pink paint, Beomgyu was filled with a sudden urge. Lifting his wrist up to your temple, he wrote across your forehead, his strokes enlaced with meaning.

But as he flicked the brush away from your head and eyed the painted slashes, a bittersweet sensation settles in his stomach, toning down the butterflies.

On your skin, it messily read: 'I love you.'

This was the closest thing to a confession he thinks he'll ever make. He didn't have the courage to tell you, despite wanting to so bad. At least, not yet. You deserved the truth. But it just wasn't the right time – everyone at school were too preoccupied with finals at the moment. He didn't want to burden you with his feelings (plus, he didn't think he'll be handle the rejection all too well either, so it was better to leave it til later).

So he thinks to himself that this was okay. That this was enough for now to vent off his feelings.

But as Beomgyu began to read the words over and over, he felt himself gradually freeze up to the point he was forced to halt his movements.

Even if he technically didn't confess, it definitely felt like he did.

Adrenaline began to pump through his veins, his heart palpitating erratically. His fingers twitched against the cheap paint brush.

The room suddenly became warm.

Beomgyu felt himself short-circuit, his cheeks burning as his brush hovered in the air beside your head. His actions then sunk in, only now realising the gravity of them.

'What am I doing?!,' he internally screamed, mentally bashing himself.

This however, didn't go unnoticed.

His behaviour was mistakenly interpreted as suppressed laughter, with the way he sucked in a breath and how he tightly creased his lips. You flick your eyes towards him, sending him a pointed look as you halted your movements.

Your eyes meet.

"Gyu? What's wrong?"

His throat suddenly felt dry, and he only let out a few strangled noises. You rose a brow, confused. "What, did you draw a dick on my face or something?" You ask, a small snort escaping your lips.

"Uh..."

You then deadpan. "You did, didn't you? Ha, ha, that's so mature of you."

You roll your eyes at his childishness, dropping your brush into the cup, "that's not exactly masterpiece-worthy, but I guess I'll be the judge of that."

It was when you suddenly reach into your pocket for your phone that Beomgyu went into full-blown panic.

You were going to see your reflection on the camera and see his confession.

Oh God, you were going to see his confession.

So Beomgyu did the first thing he could've possibly thought of.

He stretched his hands out, taking a hold of your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. There was a brief moment of awkward silence, the both of you looking at one another – one in question and the other apologetic. Before you could've said anything, he began wiping his palms all over your face in attempts to smudge the paint.

"Gyah! W-What the–Beomgyu!" You shriek, swatting your hands in attempts to pry him away. In doing so, your phone slipped from your fingers, falling onto the floor. Though, Beomgyu only continued, trying to keep you in place to ensure his message was rubbed off completely.

"Get off of me, idiot!" You shortly managed to break away from his attack, forcibly pushing him by his chest. Beomgyu fell back, barely managing to catch himself as he steadied himself with his hands. Glancing at your now slightly reddened forehead, the confession was practically nonexistent – his mission was accomplished.

In his relief, he took a moment to study you.

You gawked at him in absolute bewilderment, an array of colours smeared inharmoniously across your face. Your mouth gaped like a fish out of water, seemingly in shock and unsure of what to say. In short, you looked completely ridiculous. And not so long after, Beomgyu found himself unable to contain the snort that left his lips.

"Now it's definitely looking like Picasso!" Beomgyu cackled, clutching his stomach as his booming laughter filled the living room. He couldn't help it. The look on your face, plus the absurdity of the situation. It was just all too funny.

You glared at the boy, annoyed.

"What the hell's going on with you? You've been acting funny since we started all this," you asked, crossing your arms.

"And you, my dear friend, look funny," Beomgyu immediately shot back with a grin, purposely dodging your question. Adding to his cheekiness, he pinched your cheek affectionately, which you were quick to slap away. Luckily for him, you actually took the bait, scoffing at his response.

"Oh, yeah? You think that's funny?" You swipe your hand across the palette, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Come here!"

Yelping, Beomgyu was quick to shift from his spot, slimly dodging your blotched hands.

A chase then ensued soon after, your laughter and shrilled screams echoing through the house. The both of you made attempts to get back at one another, which in turn regrettably stained your uniforms, that would for sure earn both your mothers' disapproval. Though, that didn't concern you both, nor crossed your minds at the moment, being too immersed in your little game.

The pursuit however ultimately led you both back into the living room. You came to a standstill, wrestling each other for dominance whilst trying to get swipes at each others' faces. But with the litter caused by your ruckus, you clumsily lose your footing on one of the newspapers, falling onto the floor and sending Beomgyu down with you.

Thud.

The fall had winded him momentarily, gaining his bearings only shortly after catching himself. He was hovering over you, supporting his weight with his hands resting on either side of your head. After steadying his breath from the run, Beomgyu was about to ask if you were alright.

Though, it was cut off by your laughter.

His heart skipped a beat, his breath hitching.

On your face was the most carefree expression ever, seemingly unbothered by the fall. Your eyes crinkled from the wide, pearly smile plastered your face, and your shoulders shook as endless chuckles escaped your lips. The bright colours on your face only seemed to enhance your joy as you practically beamed at him.

The sight made his chest feel all fuzzy and warm, swelling with pure admiration and love for you. It felt like his heart was about to burst at any moment.

In this very brief moment, Beomgyu reassures himself. This is alright, he thinks to himself with a small smile. Despite longing for more, if being just your friend meant seeing you like this, then this was alright.

Pushing away his doubts, he indulges himself in the moment, and soon joins you in your laughter.

A/N: Any feedback is appreciated!! Requests are also open!! Thank you for reading!

#beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt fanfic

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