#ginger whisperer au

[littlelewdmable]

Jaune The Ginger Whisperer Part 30: Spearmint

Summer: Well, she certainly looks interesting.

Ozpin: Indeed.

Neo: 😐

Jaune: What's wrong with Ruby?

Ruby: *Still being cuddled by Penny

Penny: She committed a social faux pas.

Jaune: Such as?

Penny: She implied that she could cure acquittance-Mint's muteness with a remote.

Jaune: Oh, well that's a mistake anyone could make. I assume she's apologized already?

Penny: Yes, but acquittance-Mint has not accepted her apology.

Jaune: Oh, come on Mint. I'm sure Ruby didn't mean it. She doesn't have a mean bone in her body. So, what do you accept her apology?

Neo: *Rolls her eyes, nods*

[notmaplemable]

Just Checking In

[howlingday]

Hey just wondering. if you could you please make a quick link list for your longer and/or multi part post(eg. Tai 2.0, ginger whisper, etc.) I ask because I missed a part in one and it takes ages to scroll all the way down your blog to find it....

I'll collaborate with @notmaplemable on this. If need be, I can make a master post of both of them, like I did with tragic backstory au.

[rafedarling]

i love to see when wife still pregnant with Rustyn or Sissy, she can’t eat anything because of her morning sickness so Drew make her favorite food to help her feel better. Drew would carefully preparing a spread of fresh fruit, toast, and ginger tea—anything that might ease her nausea. I know that man would be so sweet and take care of both of them 🥹

𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: four months into your second pregnancy, morning sickness hits harder than you ever expected. with drew’s unwavering support and rustyn’s adorable attempts to cheer you up, you realize that even in the most exhausting moments, your family’s love makes everything better.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pregnancy symptoms (morning sickness, fatigue), mentions of food, and extreme fluff.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore

It’s 4:07 a.m., but it feels like time has stopped. You’re sitting on the cold bathroom floor, your back against the wall, trying to steady your breathing. The nausea that’s plagued you all week is worse tonight, a relentless wave that refuses to let you rest. Drew crouches beside you, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back, the other brushing a damp strand of hair from your face.

“Baby, are you feeling better now?”

Drew asks, his voice laced with concern.

You’re too exhausted to answer, your body drained from the constant sickness. Instead, you give him a small nod, leaning your head against the cool tiles.

It’s been four months into this pregnancy, and you’ve already noticed how much more challenging it is compared to when you were carrying Rustyn. Back then, the nausea was manageable, and you had bursts of energy to get you through the day. This time, the morning sickness is… unforgiving, leaving you weak and overwhelmed.

Drew watches you carefully, his blue eyes filled with worry.

“Let me know if you need anything, okay? I’ll be downstairs making you a matcha tea.”

His voice is gentle, like he’s afraid to disturb your fragile state.

“Thank you, baby,”

You whisper, your voice barely audible. You let him help you back to bed, lying down slowly, grateful for the comfort of the sheets. Drew tucks you in with a kiss on your forehead before heading downstairs.

Unbeknownst to both of you, a sleepy-eyed Rustyn has woken up and shuffled out of his room, clutching his favorite stuffed dinosaur, already intuitive, sensing when something’s off. Hearing the sounds of his dad in the kitchen, he pads down the stairs in his little dinosaur-print pajamas.

“Dada?”

Rustyn calls out, rubbing his eyes as he enters the kitchen.

Drew turns, surprised to see his son awake at this hour.

“Hey, buddy. What are you doing up? It’s still early.”

Rustyn blinks up at him, his voice soft.

“Mama sick?”

Drew crouches down to Rustyn’s level, brushing his curls out of his face.

“Yeah, Mama’s not feeling so good this morning. She needs some rest.”

Rustyn’s little face scrunches in thought before he tugs on Drew’s sleeve.

“I want to help Mama?”

Drew smiles, his heart swelling at Rustyn’s determination.

“You want to help me make something for her?”

Rustyn nods enthusiastically, his sleepiness forgotten.

“Soup!” he exclaims, the word coming out in a high-pitched squeal.

Drew chuckles.

“Alright, soup it is. Let’s make some chicken soup for Mama.”

Rustyn climbs onto a stool by the counter, watching intently as Drew gathers the ingredients. He’s too little to do much, but Drew lets him “help” by handing him pre-washed herbs to place in a bowl.

“Good job, buddy,” Drew says, ruffling Rustyn’s hair.

Rustyn beams, proud of his contribution.

“Mama loves soup.”

“I think she’ll love it,”

Drew replies, his heart melting at how much Rustyn cares.

While the soup simmers, Drew brews some matcha tea, making sure it’s not too hot. He pours it into your favorite mug, setting it carefully on a tray alongside a bowl of soup.

“Breakfast in bed for Mama,”

Drew announces, lifting the tray.

Rustyn trails behind him, clutching his stuffed dinosaur.

“Me too!”

When they enter the bedroom, you’re lying on your side, your eyes half-closed. The sound of Drew’s voice and Rustyn’s little footsteps make you stir.

“Morning, Mama,” Drew says softly, setting the tray down on the nightstand.

Rustyn climbs onto the bed with determination, his little hands reaching for yours.

“Mama, we make soup!” he says proudly, his face lighting up as he hands you the stuffed dinosaur.

“Dino make you feel better!”

You can’t help but smile, your heart swelling at the sight of your son’s effort.

“Thank you, baby,” you say, pulling him into a hug.

“And thank you, Dino.”

Drew sits beside you, helping you sit up slowly.

“Here, take it easy,” he says, handing you the mug of tea.

The warmth of the tea and the smell of the soup make you feel a little more human. You sip the tea, letting the bitterness calm your stomach. Rustyn snuggles up next to you, his tiny hand resting on your growing belly.

“Mama, is baby in there?”

Rustyn asks, looking up at you with curious eyes.

You nod, placing your hand over his.

“Yep, your little sibling is in there.”

Rustyn grins, his excitement contagious.

“I’ll be big brother!”

“You’ll be the best big brother,”

Drew says, leaning over to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head.

“Mama and the baby are so lucky to have you.”

Rustyn giggles, his laughter filling the room.

After finish your tea and manage a few spoonfuls of soup, you feel a little better, though still tired. Drew takes the tray and sets it aside, lying down next to you. Rustyn climbs onto Drew’s chest, his favorite place to cuddle, and the three of you settle into the quiet comfort of the morning.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your eyes meeting Drew’s.

“For what?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“For being you. For taking care of me. For teaching Rustyn to be so thoughtful.”

Drew smiles, his hand resting on your belly.

“We’re a team, remember? And you’re the strongest person I know.”

You lean into him, feeling grateful despite the challenges of this pregnancy. With Drew’s unwavering support and Rustyn’s adorable enthusiasm, you know you’re not alone.

As you drift off to sleep, Rustyn’s tiny voice cuts through the quiet.

“Mama, baby okay?”

“Baby’s perfect,” you murmur, your heart full.

[driaswrld]

🪷 — A ROYAL AFFAIR . . . THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT

LADY DRIA WRITES . . . ˚ ༘ *

🪷 dearest gentle reader, what is a princess to do when she's caught between two dashing princes, both of which are her childhood friends? — one her betrothed and the other her past love... 4.7k words.

🪷 prince gojo x reader x prince geto jjk regency/royal au, use of regency era terminology, longing and more longing.

🪷 taglist : (lmk if you want to be added or removed!) @angelshimaa @yunymphs @todorokies @satocidal @maeby-cursed @rinniessance @cinnabooonn @shegetsburned @starry-grace2 @selfishdoll @shuuennovirche @wishmemel @riaki @yazzzmints @aphroditisxc @gojorbit @izakyun @satoruoo @irisxyphium @zwtari @/lollipop974 @r0ckst4rjk @softgirlgonehaywire @lilvampirina @brianmaysclog

CHAPTER ONE. . . ˚ ༘ *

L'INCOMPARABLE.

Talks of betrothal began in the last Spring of your youth.

Under the cherry blossom trees, you sit in silence, fuchsia petals decorating the length of your hair in messy scatters.

Satoru Gojo, crowned prince and heir to the Gojo throne, picks the fallen remnants of flowers from your hair one by one as the nobles watch on.

Whispers of ‘they would make such a beautiful match’ and ‘look how the Prince dotes on her’ echo in the brush of the gardens, women whispering among themselves and the men chortling between swings of their mallets — in a near deathly game of pall mall.

“Don’t hide from me,” Satoru dips his head, breath fanning the shell of your ear. If possible, the whispers intensify, cutting past your ears and you bite back a giggle, stifling down the thought that crosses your mind, attention whore.

“I’m not hiding, your highness.” You counter, shifting to the side, your smile hidden behind a porcelain teacup, swift sips of ginger warming your cheeks.

“It’s improper, you know.” The words linger in the air between soft wisps of wind, flurries of foreign fabrics and bright layers of skirts pass your vision — and yet, all is drowned out by him.

Your anointed Prince, the attention whore.

“Improper to gaze upon my companion?” Satoru scoffs, grinning wide, toothy, dimples.

Childhood found you both tethered like bee and nectar, always close, always coming back.

At first, it was through duty, sharp tongued ten year old Satoru Gojo, a prince born with a halo and the title of the realm’s strongest to his name, meeting you, the humble princess of the Western kingdom, born in valor and sprouted in pride, a warrior’s code.

It was a disastrous first few encounters—

(—but then he was your bestfriend, and you his. )

His dear mother, bless her soul, had taken the time out to host this marvelous garden party to welcome the newest maidens into their debuts – moreso, to marry Satoru off quicker than he could leave for another battle, chasing another war – and yet, he cared not to meet with any of the women or entertain them beyond an inch of his being.

Not around you, at least.

“You shouldn’t jest about these things—!” A snort leaves your mouth, and whereas the ever uppity ladies of the palace court gawk at you in utter disbelief and mild disgust, Satoru finds himself bellowing a boyish laugh.

That was the last time he’d laugh like that with you, before a warm spring of youth turned to a burning summer, hot with passion, scorched with lust.

THE SCANDAL OF THE CHILDHOOD CONSORT.

Dearest gentle reader,

As all royal scandals do,

It started with an invitation.

We cordially invite you to the Gojo palace grounds to celebrate the betrothal of our crowned prince Satoru Gojo and his bride to be [name] [name].

This author finds herself compelled and rather . . . intrigued.

What a match made in heaven! Our beloved Prince Satoru and his most dearest childhood friend!

Your fingers tremble at your sides, the aura that is the strongest permeates your very being. The soft hum of piano keys coupled with string and bow becomes near inaudible – the power Satoru Gojo has on you is like a moth to a flame, lamb to slaughter.

But I assure you,

When it comes to matters of the heart —

Carefully, your feet carry you across the crowded ballroom, mass of bodies parting the instant they catch a glimpse of your eyes – that desperation is familiar in young women like you – and they pity you.

You, who should be above them, who should be the next Queen, the current Princess consort to be.

And yet.

“I’ve told you endlessly, I will take no wife!” Satoru’s voice is a staccato, bouncing off the walls of the vacant corridor adjacent to the ballroom, echoing past your ears.

Dare I say, our beloved crowned Prince

Is not the strongest.

“Some nerve you have, boy.”

Satoru’s father, the King, is a stoic man.

You’ve come to know this well in your youth. He rules firm and his word remains law. By no means is he the strongest or possesses any more battle capacity than that of any other noble, but he remains a political stronghold.

And his grip over his family — his subjects, remains unwavering.

“I don’t care for your affairs or your crown,” Satoru’s gaze remains hard, even as he meets his father’s ire in tow, and in such a barely secluded place too. “Let one of your bastards have it, my place is on the battlefield doing what you are too cowardly to.”

Your mind runs rampant, palms pressed against the cold wall concealing your presence.

You wonder what Satoru might be thinking — if he’d be so foolish as to forsake his lineage and do away with his duty, if he’d give up simply because his fate was not his choice — he wouldn’t.

No, Satoru is good and kind, and he would see this kingdom to a new realm of peace just with his bare hands alone.

“And that is all? You wish to do away with it simply because it does not suit your childish desires? I have given you everything! And the one thing I ask of you—”

You still yourself at the near animalistic growl that leaves Satoru’s lips.

“She will never be Queen.”

It cuts through you like blades of grass, familiar, scratching at your skin softly, pinpricks of green drawing blood from your calves.

It reminds you of when you were younger, more naive and susceptible to the follies of men and matters of the heart.

“Who’ll marry you if you spend your days swinging a sword and broadening your shoulders?”

“Aren’t there girls your age you can follow around? I don’t care if you’re a princess, we’re not friends.”

“I don’t know why you’d believe he’d ever want to court you.”

Three months, thirteen days.

Your betrothal has long exceeded and broken the record of engagement wait time.

Most women would be married within the same month of betrothal, the longest and most respectable wait time being a month and a half, only due to cases of overdue dowry payments.

Three million dollars was your reverse dowry.

Paid directly from the royal treasury to your father, and four million dollars paid in return. That was how much yours and Satoru’s hands were worth to your families, a testament to the weight you’d both bear by wearing a crown.

Except, you hadn’t been crowned yet. Or married for that matter.

“—summer solstice hunt!” It’s Yuji who exclaims, voice filled with childlike wonder. Recently knighted by Satoru himself and a renowned protege of the Kingsguard, the boy is eager to please. “Who will you cast your bets on, your grace?”

The confines of Satoru’s private study function as a meeting room for idle chatting — he leaves the letters to his advisors when they are of little importance.

Or discards them entirely when he has company, like now.

You sink deeper into the cushioned seat, Satoru’s arm draped over the back of your chair. A tuft of snowy hair falls over his forehead and he breathes a chuckle, your weight curling in on itself with every rise and fall of his chest.

why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don’t you want me why don't you want me

“It’s out of question to bet on one’s self, no?” Satoru chuckles and it earns a cackle from Yuji, who, despite himself, has already casted his own bet on his annointed Prince. “I wouldn’t want to make anyone’s head bigger than it ought to be.”

The summer and winter solstice brings with it two separate ceremonial festivals — the hunt being the most anticipated due to its cutthroat competition among nobles and peasants alike.

That, and the prize.

The winner of the hunt, the man or woman to capture the famed primordial stag — which is really a regular stag trained and bred to elude even the most skilled knights — would be rewarded a grand jewel from the Queen’s vault.

Gentle reader,

The famed jewel for the taking

This summer, is none other than—

“I’ve placed my bet on you,” you comment plainly with a shrug and Yuji beams.

It isn’t unlike you to root for one of Satoru’s proteges, the ones fairly skilled and new to knighthood – you’ve always found yourself cheering for the peonies in a garden full of roses — the underdogs full of potential . . .

Satoru glances over to you, and for a second you miss how his gaze lingers.

“You’re too kind, Princess…” Yuji sighs, near dreamily. “I will no doubt do well now that I have your favor on my side.”

( losing dogs, satoru wants to say. all you ever do is bet on losing dogs. )

“You have her bet, not her favor.” Satoru scoffs dramatically before you can even think to lend Yuji your well wishes. “It isn’t something given, it’s something won. And from a maiden, not a Princess consort.”

She’s spoken for, is all you hear though.

There’s an air of uncertainty that passes between you and Satoru that only thickens with your closeness.

A pale palm curls around the cross rail of the back of your chair and you lean into his touch subconsciously – it’s warm, secure – he’s saying, I have your favor, don’t I? Tell me I do.

—The champion’s jewel,

A wraith necklace fit for a Queen.

The L’Incomparable.

“Nevertheless, you have my good faith.” You interject, followed by a sharp inhale, and you stand abruptly from your seat. Satoru’s hand falls to his side. He knows what you're thinking.

Three months, thirteen days.

You’ve sat by and watched Satoru deny you marriage – his excuse, that he’s waiting for his coronation first – you’ve watched him continue to entertain the women around him like he’s done since he was merely a squire, plastering a smile on his face from this glass castle he calls home.

He’s close, but never too close. Stringing you on then letting you loose— it’s routine.

It’s eerily similar to your childhood.

“Yuji,” Satoru speaks, soft yet firm. The young boy is on his feet immediately and offers a swift bow to his majesty, handing his service in tow to the call. “Leave us.” Satoru commands, and just as swiftly as he came, Yuji is bowing to you and exiting through the study doors.

L’Incomparable.

The largest internally flawless diamond in the kingdom and the most expensive chain sitting in the Queen’s vault currently, worth eight billion dollars alone.

Allegedly, it was handcrafted as a gift from an ancient Gojo king to his mistress — whom he had knighted and sent off to fight in the war at her wishes once their affair had been brought to light and scrutinized.

A gift he only got to place on her corpse.

Even in death, he loved her. More than he loved his own wife and Queen.

And though many attempts had been made to destroy the necklace, it remains near indestructible.

“Something troubles you.” Satoru murmurs the moment the door clicks shut. His gaze remains strained forward on your form, from where you fiddle with the frayed hem of your gown, back turned to him.

“I simply think of the prospects of the hunt,” you retort. “There are many promising young competitors traveling to partake— I fear my Prince would simply be. . . thwarted, is all.”

L’Incomparable is not a jewel of love.

It's a sickening story of a woman who loved a man who could not love her back in the way she deserved.

A woman who took what she was given, secret meetings, hushed whispers and fleeting gazes.

And when he did, finally love her back wholly and ardently, unable to bury it behind a locked door in the dungeon he called a heart — she was already gone.

“You doubt me?” Satoru’s voice is closer now, and you wonder when he even stood up – if he'd been taking small steps toward you the entire time.

“No.” It leaves your mouth like a prayer, an oath, worship. Every ounce of confidence you have is in him. He has protected you, kept you, safeguarded your sanity and treated you with grace— “Never that.”

( —he is your friend. nothing more than that. )

He exhales, and you hear the faint sound of a swallow, the click of his tongue. Your ear feels hot with the proximity, yet, he inches closer still.

“Will you give this to me, then?” He whispers, faint, uncertain — almost desperate.

And you turn, faces inches apart, breath mingling. “What is it you wish of me, my Prince?” Your pupils dilate.

“Your Prince,” Satoru repeats, like it knocked the wind out of him. It's a common way to address the monarch, you’ve said it before as have others. “. . . asks for your favor in the upcoming hunt.”

He keeps his hands folded behind him, curled into fists and trembling. Your Prince. Yours. Yours.

He’s a gentleman. He was raised right.

This urge—

( you’re his friend. his advisor. his confidant. this is not what he wants. )

The urge to strip you down to nothing but your chemise, lay you on his desk and hike your legs over his hips, show you things you’ve only seen in dreams or read in books — like he’s done to so many women before — he promises himself he’s not a rake, he’s just a man, but when you look at him like that and say his title so softly—

( it will pass. )

“Then,” your breath slows as he steps forward, so easily leaving you pressed back against the hardwood desk, caged by him. “I will grant my Prince my favor.”

Satoru watches in earnest, places his hands on either side of you on the desk as you remove one of your gloves.

Pure white, pearl decor, lace trim.

He would've laughed if he wasn't so enthralled by such a simple thing. Satoru wants to pull the other glove off with his teeth.

“I’ll return it to you,” he says, a promise. He takes the glove as you hand it to him, leaning forward and chasing the remnants of your fingertips against his once you pull away. “When I win.”

( and maybe then, you’ll understand i am devoted to you, wholly and utterly, if only in these moments and never again. )

There's a knock at the door, brief and soft. A maid, come to drop off another stack of letters.

And just as quickly as Satoru had found himself against you, he’s across the room, opening the door.

As if you had never been there.

The only evidence that he had even touched you is the lace cupped in his palm, middle and index tracing over a minute pearl.

L’Incomparable is a jewel of longing.

Morrow brings with it the beginning of joyous festivities.

You woke to another trousseau. This time, from a distant cousin in the Easternmost kingdom.

Attached was a letter of the newest development in her love life – said development being a defected knight nonetheless.

It made you giggle.

The palace corridors are bustling with life.

Servants and attendants eager to welcome early visitors who have come for the summer solstice, robust back and forth on decorations and food and gossip and many a’ things outside the realm of possibility to be discussed in one sitting.

Your lady in waiting, Areta, whom you’ve known since your youth, creeps into your room with a grin as wide as a war banner – you immediately assume the worst, mischief is your pastime but you fear the poor girl takes ‘eavesdropping on court gossip’ to another level.

“My lady, you would not believe—” Areta huffs, journeying to sit with you on the balcony, wiping an imaginary bead of sweat from her brow. “The things I’ve heard today!”

“You hear things everyday, I fear.” You indulge her, as always. And she begins to talk your ear off, all in good faith of course.

Down below in the courtyard, is the sound of smacking wood and the occasional chorus of baritone conversation.

Satoru, who should be attending treaty meetings with his father, bides his time sparring on the cobblestone with the other men of the Kingsguard – the noise wakes you most mornings.

“—talking to Julietta, you know? The girl who attends to the countess? And she said—”

You hum along to Areta’s words, eyes peering over the edge of the balcony, gaze fixed on the crown Prince.

His snowy hair is damp with sweat, Victorian style dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, every swing of his wooden sword causes a commotion — muscles in his back flexing under the sunlight, so easily seen beneath the thin white fabric.

“—that her lady told her that she heard from a cousin-in-law who works at the docks that—”

You wonder what expression Satoru has as he pummels through his underlings playfully, hardly sparring but more play fighting. You imagine he’s grinning wide, crystalline blue eyes shimmering with glee—

“—that Prince Geto is coming for the hunt!”

You choke. Audibly.

Areta is quick to shut her mouth and lend you a concerned gaze. “Princess, are you—”

“I’m alright.” You wave a hand, catching your breath. Prince Geto. If you think about it too hard, you fear your chest might burst open and spill out your insides.

Oh, fair reader, it seems

Our dear protagonist has come upon

A treasure trove of memories.

“You were, ehem, saying?” You twirl your index finger in the air as if to prompt a rewind. “About. . .”

Areta raises an eyebrow, but nods slowly. “About Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law?” The girl questions, dim.

“No!” You interject immediately, twirling your finger in the other direction. Fast forward. “The other thing— the thing you heard!”

“Oh, about Prince Geto!”

Dearest reader,

Suguru Geto enters.

A man of great mystique,

the northern Prince.

And striking opposite of

our beloved crowned Prince Satoru.

“Yes! About him—”

Suguru Geto.

In many ways you could say he was Satoru’s best friend, his greatest rival and worst enemy all at the same time.

Through solstice events, formal gatherings and other royal duties, the same way you met Satoru, you met Suguru through him.

“Well, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law works at the docks,” Areta begins again, regrettably. “You know? The private harbor where all the spirit and wheat shipments come in, but that's besides the point—”

( suguru was your bestfriend too. in every way it counted. )

“Areta.” You coo, coaxing her to get back to the main point. Why was Suguru coming for the summer solstice hunt? After being away in the North for so long, why now?

The only correspondence you’d had with him was a few letters years ago. And then he stopped writing.

“So, Julietta’s lady’s cousin-in-law saw the Geto family's ship dock in the private harbor!” The girl exclaims hushedly and you hum to yourself, curious.

Rightfully, you’d hold a grudge about never hearing from Suguru.

But in this moment, you feel no resentment or hurt. Instead, excitement that you might see your old friend once more.

And maybe, you, Suguru and Satoru could spend the summer solstice together— just like old times.

( and that’d be enough to get rid of the heat in your chest when satoru gets too close to you. )

Faithful reader,

she could not have been

more wrong.

Four days remain until the summer solstice hunt.

Satoru is scarce around the palace in preparation for his coronation coming soon and treaty arrangements.

You, on the other hand, have exhausted all your hobbies, biding your idle time helping the other ladies at court pick their gowns for tomorrow's feast — the first of seven nightly ones during the solstice.

Another trousseau is delivered to your chambers when you wake.

This time, you’re taken aback.

Instead of an elaborate stack of gifts, a box of jewelry or even a scandalous collection of seductive corsets and nightgowns to remind you of your predicament—

There's a long wooden box, coupled with a sealed parcel.

Inside the box is a beautiful gown, deep burgundy and shapely. Fitted with a low bust cut and short sleeves. It's a mouth watering dress, one you would've bought yourself if you even knew it existed.

But you've never seen a dress designed like this before, down to the intricate details of the underskirts and the hemming.

It's almost intimate.

When you finally open the parcel, you expect a note, but there's none. Instead, inside is a pair of black silk gloves, so smooth it melts in your palms – your mind immediately goes to Satoru and the glove he still holds hostage for you.

You don't think twice before telling Areta that this is what you’ll be wearing to tomorrow’s feast.

( you ought to thank satoru for this gift by wearing it, no? )

˚ ༘ *

The lights in the dining hall are dimmed perfectly to match the moonlight.

When you slip in from the adjacent corridor, greeting visiting nobles and residents of the palace court alike, a sense of nausea floods the pit of your stomach – what will Satoru say when he sees you? Will he like how the dress looks – or rather how you look in it?

Wait, why do you even care?

You’ve never really cared for these things— it must be the tea you had earlier. You nearly feel faint.

Darling reader,

it was in fact,

not the tea.

Your thoughts don't get the chance to linger very long, as the soft hum of music slows to a halt, and everyone begins journeying to their assigned seats.

Naturally, you fiddle with your gloves, not wanting to sit down at the second table yet.

One, it would be very impudent of a lady of your caliber to be seated without a proper escort by a gentleman.

And two, even though you did decline the few men who asked to escort you, you can't help the anxiety that floods your veins when you begin to realize that so many people are sitting already and you're not!

Sure, you're a Princess, but can't a girl be a little shy?

( not that you were waiting for satoru or anything of course. )

Devoted reader,

our protagonist

is in denial.

“It pains me to see such a beautiful lady left unaccompanied.” A voice flits past your ears, so close you can taste it on your tongue — incense, sandalwood.

( oh god, no. )

Your body turns in an instant, almost too quick, and your underskirts almost trip you as the weight sends you wobbling forward.

“Easy—” Suguru Geto’s arm darts out to curl around your waist, steadying you.

“You're here—” “You’re still clumsy—”

The both of you lock eyes at your shared unison of speech, then chuckle to yourselves.

You let your eyes wander over his features, how much he's grown over these past years.

He’s still as ethereal as the royal painters would describe. Prince Geto, the joy to paint, once in an era type beauty, born to be depicted in art, they’d say.

You don't doubt that.

“You look well,” you say. Suguru glances down at you and shakes his head, as if that is too much of a compliment for him to take. “No, honestly— I don't tease, you look very. . . stately.”

“Are you trying to call me old in a polite way, my lady?” He feigns offense, tilting his head to the side a little. You cover your mouth to laugh.

You don't miss the way his eyes linger on your gloves.

( oh, the gloves ! )

“Your highness,” leaves your mouth in a whisper, half teasing, half regal, and you give a brief curtsy, which he counters with a swift bow. “Would you do me the pleasure?” You grin, extending your hand to him.

Suguru — never Prince Geto, not to you at least — had been your solace, your comfort and your refuge.

The greatest friend you could have asked for in your youth.

“The pleasure is all mine.” Suguru whispers, taking your hand in earnest, escorting you over to the table and pulling your chair out for you — settling himself in the seat across from you, on the other side of the table.

( what a coincidence. )

˚ ༘ *

Time passes in waves.

People are whispering, no doubt. As they always do about you. No matter how hushed, you always hear them.

‘Look at the poor Princess consort, sitting beside an empty chair.’

‘You’d think she’d refer to herself as Lady now instead of Consort—’

‘To think even a Princess is not immune from such things. . .’

‘These things happen when you're sold off to a future King.’

“Bitter.”

Your head snaps up at the sound, dessert fork halting mid stab into your slice of cake.

Suguru’s eyes meet yours, as if he’d been looking at you the entire time, like he reads your thoughts as his own.

The people sitting at the table alongside you both fix their attention on him, the whispers halting.

“The cake,” he leans back in his chair, shrugging strands of his hair out of his face, looking down the length of the table at the spectators, nonchalant. “It's terribly bitter.”

You think you’d open your mouth to scold him a little, to not joke about what people say, royals should never engage in such petty gossip – but instead, you smile in gratitude.

( bitter. everybody's so bitter in this place. )

“That's quite unfortunate.” A familiar voice rings out, your fork sliding out of your hand to rest on the edge of your plate. “I hoped it would be rather sweet tonight.”

When you look over your shoulder, Satoru is already at your side, bending a knee and outstretching an open palm to you. “My Princess.”

He looks. . . disheveled.

Not completely out of order, it's something so small — so minute that only those who know him well would be able to point it out. From the crease of his vest to the shaky rasp in his voice—

And the woman in your peripheral stumbling back into the dining hall from the garden entrance on shaky legs. . .

( so that's what he was doing. )

“Your grace,” leaves your lips in a whisper and he kisses the back of your palm before sinking into his seat.

The way he presses his middle finger against his bottom lip like he’d been burned by the silk makes you raise an eyebrow. Does he not even have the common courtesy of pretending to like the gloves he gifted?

“I’m pleased you took time out of your busy schedule for us regular people.” Suguru chuckles, and Satoru’s mother, sitting near you all at the head table seems far from pleased.

“Well, a small act of kindness goes a long way.” Satoru parries and you force a smile, stabbing your dessert once more. “Especially for someone as regular as you, Prince Suguru.”

If you had initially thought this would be a quaint rekindling of an old childhood friendship, you never felt more wrong than in this moment — the air settles thick between you three.

“Isn't the future King Gojo just so kind?” Suguru addresses you, and you swallow, stifling your laugh.

“I pray for your marriage. . .” One of the Dukes seated at the table jests, to which you fiddle with the hem of your dress, the burgundy falling over your palms as a chorus of laughter ensues.

Marriage.

Suguru notices your gaze on him – or rather far away – and he smiles to snap you out of it. “Lady name?”

Just then Satoru’s hand reaches for yours under the table, halting your fiddling with the fabric, his grip steady and soft.

“Princess Consort.” Satoru interjects with a flat lipped smile, which could be perceived as kind, but to Suguru. . . “She changed titles.”

When was the last time someone called you by your name and not Princess consort? Always that. Not even Princess name.

“Pardon me,” you mumble beneath your breath, your grip on your dress going slack. You shrug your hand free from Satoru’s grip, abandoning your seat in an instant.

Satoru rises from his chair only four seconds afterward.

“Name—” he calls to you, following you out of the dining hall and down a vacant corridor.

Your footsteps evade him as he chases after you wide steps.

But he stops dead in his tracks when he hears you slam the door to an empty side room shut.

My dearest reader,

brace yourself for the

next publication.

Your kind author

bids you farewell.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 07 - Picnic Sex]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU

Kinks: public sex on a meadow, drunk sex, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, praise kink, good girl kink, sensory play where he makes her guess with what he is touching her, vaginal penetrative sex in missionary, use of a condom, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), giggly and cuddly aftercare, Yoongi is a cute menace when he is tipsy

Wordcount: 4.6k

a/n: i missed this couple so much!!! holy moly i’m sobbing in the club, they’re the cutest!! goodness :( thank you for requesting this, i’m in love with them <3

Yoongi has been gazing for more than ten minutes. His lips are curled into a constant, soft smile and his eyes sparkle adoringly. He also has his head tilted to the side slightly, kicking his feet mindlessly. He doesn’t know that he is gazing, but you finally notice after coming down from your wine induced monologue about tea. 

You swallow down the flutter of your heart, cheeks heating up under his gaze. 

“Sorry, I was talking a lot.”

He shakes his head, smiling drunkenly and fluttering his lashes, “you weren’t”, he says softly.

“I just think tea is so neat.”

“I know you do. It is.” 

A shy giggle slips from you, shoulders lifting to your ears.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Just so dreamily. It makes me shy.”

Yoongi chuckles and scoots closer. His chest brushes the side of your arm and he has his hand propped up on the picnic blanket behind your butt. Like this, you can smell his sweet breath and practically feel his kiss. 

“You’re so beautiful, I can’t help it”, he whispers and brushes the back of his hand down your cheek as gently as possible. “I love listening to you. Everything you say is so wonderful.” 

“Are you drunk?” 

His flushed cheeks and droopy eyes should be answer enough. 

“Maybe a little.” He drops his cheek on your shoulder, peeking up at you through his lashes. “The wine is so good and the food was amazing and you are beautiful and this date is perfect”, he gushes as his fingers trace your stomach and thighs mindlessly.

You giggle, nudging him with your nose. You learned from dating Yoongi that he becomes very cute when he is drunk. He gets clingy and touchy and his loosened tongue can’t stop saying the sappiest stuff. He also giggles constantly and gets such a cute blush on his cheeks. You already think that he is cute on normal days, but when he is drunk, you could smooch him constantly because of how adorable he is. 

Yoongi sighs dreamily and kisses your shoulder, straightening up afterwards. He currently has ginger hair, which reflects the autumn sun in shades of orange. You lovingly like to call him your tangerine because of it.

“Close your eyes”, he says and because you trust him, you do. You know that if he asks something like this, the outcome will be nice for you. You stay seated for a while, enjoying the silence of the moment. 

You and Yoongi went on a picnic date on the meadow today. It was a sunny, warm autumn’s day and you felt like getting out of your houses. So you met up on your bicycles with homemade food in your baskets and your pets next to it, ready to drive down into the valley for a nice date. Levi and Holly are napping together in the grass just a little to your right, the food has been finished already and the bottle of wine, Yoongi brought, is half empty. Which explains why you and he keep giggling and snickering. You are both just tipsy enough that the current moment is so, so exciting and nice.

Yoongi still hasn’t acted on whatever he was planning to do.

“What are you doing?” You ask him, snickering. “Did you leave?”

“No. Guess what I’m using”, he says and a second later you feel something light tickle your face.

You giggle, chasing the sensation. He starts off at your temple, guiding it over your cheek and down your neck until he traces your exposed collarbones. You are wearing an autumn sundress today, which reveals your collarbones and cleavage. 

The sensation stops, the ghost of its touch remains on your skin in tingles.

“What was that?” he asks. 

“Something that tickled, mhm, maybe a feather?”

“No, try again.” The sensation begins anew, sending shivers down your back. It makes your heart flutter in giddiness.

Stop. It is time for you to guess. 

“Is it grass?” 

“Yay, you did it.”

You open your eyes, inspecting the blade of grass between his fingers. He picked the flower for it, which explains why it felt so feathery on your skin. 

A drunken snicker leaves you and you draw closer to him.

“This was fun. I wanna try again.”

“Okay, I’ll give you more.” 

You close your eyes, waiting impatiently for his next touch. Something soft like fabric. He dances it from your temples down to your collarbones.

You smile, turning your head to where you think his face should be.

“That’s your jumper.”

“Mhm, which part?” The sensation starts anew. He is so gentle as he guides it over your skin. It feels so good.

“Your sleeve? Maybe?”

“Correct.”

You open your eyes, meeting his adoring gaze. He lets out a soft chuckle and pokes your nose with his own, rubbing the tip against yours afterwards. You close your eyes halfway, reciprocating the affection. 

“One more, please?” 

“Okay, one more. Close your eyes.”

You obey, skin tingling in anticipation. The touch is chaste, tickling your skin.

“Are you fluttering your lashes against my cheek?” you ask in a snicker.

“Yeah”, he laughs.

“Oh god, you’re silly.”

He chuckles and kisses your cheek, dancing his lips to your ear afterwards to whisper. You shiver like crazy at the feeling of it, sighing quietly.

“Two more guesses, okay?” 

“Yeah okay…”

The next object is obvious to you with the very first touch.

“Your fingertip!”

“Mhm, correct”, he whispers, dancing it down to your collarbone to trace it. 

You open your eyes halfway. He is breathing a little heavier than before.

“What’s the last one?” you ask him, breathing heavier as well.

“Close your eyes and guess.”

“Okay.”

You can hear him shimmy closer to you and then you feel it. His lips on your neck, kissing the most sensitive spot.

You tilt your head back, parting your lips in a surprised moan.

Yoongi purrs, sucking on your skin gently before he lifts his lips. You open your eyes, looking at his pouty lips.

“And?” he asks.

“Your lips”, you sigh, gazing dreamily.

“Correct, you did so well.”

“Hah”, you let out, eyes practically lost in the view of his lips.

Yoongi, who notices and feels tingly because of it, speaks softly. He traces your thigh with his fingertips as he does, gazing at your neck.

“Wanna have a reward?”

“A reward?”

“Mhm, it’ll feel good”, he says, ghosting his lips over your neck without touching it.

“Ah”, you let out, chasing him.

“Is this a yes?”

“Yeah, please.”

He climbs atop of you, laying you down on the blanket as he does it. 

You allow him happily, exposing your neck to him so he could keep kissing you. He claims the opportunity happily, showering you in kisses and careful touches. By now, it is an unspoken shared feeling by both that this is turning you on. It was sweet at first, but sweetness sometimes tastes too addicting not to crave more of it. The day is so nice, the date so romantic and you have been sharing such nice intimacy on your little, comfortable blanket. You are also giddily drunk and stupidly in love with each other. It was bound to happen that all of these feel good emotions escalate. 

Yoongi still lifts his lips to ask, hands on an innocent place.

“I know you already said yes, but is it really okay for me to touch you?”

“Yes, is it okay for you too?”

“Yes, more than okay, my darling.” He kisses your jawline once. “Just tell me to stop if it gets too much, okay?”

“Yes okay. You too, yeah?” 

“Mhm, yeah.”

He lowers his lips, planning not to lift them again for quite a while. You fall into the sensation with a sigh, melting like a drop of chocolate in the sun.  

He kisses every inch of your neck and jawline, even giving you soft bites because he knows that you love the sensation. His lips brush against your ears as well, allowing quiet moans to reach them and with it, make you shiver. It is so hot to feel his moans like this, it will always excite you.

Yoongi of course knows that and he will use every card against you to get you as turned on as possible. He loves turning you on, especially when you look as pretty as you do today.

“I love this dress on you, I love it so much”, he breathes, rubbing his palms over the soft fabric while his lips are tasting your collarbones.

“Thank you”, you sigh, wiggling your feet. He always makes you feel so beautiful. 

“I love the colour and the fit and the fabric. You make this dress look so beautiful, my darling”, he continues, right hand sliding to your waist to trace it. The dress is a little tighter around your waist, giving it a synched look. It also makes his touch feel like electricity on your skin, forcing your back to arch off the blanket.

Yoongi purrs, kissing a path down your chest until he reaches your cleavage. The position and gravity naturally makes your breasts lay flatter than as if you were standing up, but Yoongi still buries his face in them. He makes a funny noise as he does, eliciting a loud cackle from you. You ruffle his hair instantly, chest tingling in happiness. 

“You’re so stupid”, you laugh. 

“I had to do this. I love your tits”, he mumbles, voice playful and happy. 

“If you say so.” 

“Mhm, I do.” He gathers them in his hands and massages them gently. “I really do.” 

“Wow Yoongi…this is…so nice…” you sigh, arching into his touch.

“It is. So nice”, he breathes, placing loving kisses on your clothed breasts before moving lower. 

By now, you are practically panting in excitement, body shuddering each time he touches a new spot. He has both hands on your sides, holding you safely as his lips kiss a path down your clothed stomach.

Soon every inch of it is kissed as well and Yoongi straightens up. You open your eyes, meeting his adoring gaze. His cheeks are pinker than before. 

You prop your feet up on the blanket and open your legs. Yoongi’s eyes widen, he does a sneaky double take before gawking at your face in shock. 

“Please”, you beg.

“A-are you sure?”

“Yes. You?”

“What? Of course I am, you don’t gotta ask. You know me, I could live between your legs”, he says and lies down on his stomach, burying his face in your inner thigh to munch on it playfully.

You giggle and whine, writhing deliciously at the sensation. He is kissing and sucking your skin, leaving the softest of bites as well. They don’t hurt at all, they’re a soft graze with his teeth before his tender lips replace them. The sensation is so tingly that you could honestly scream. He riles you up so much.

Soon, you cannot take the teasing anymore and you reach down to rake your fingers through his locks.

“Don’t tease please.”

“I’m not, you’re just impatient.”

You chuckle, heart fluttering. You love when he bickers with you. He is such a cutie. A cutie who currently takes off your panties, making you heave in excitement. You help him slip them off your legs, then prop them up again as wide apart as possible.

Yoongi chuckles because of your eagerness, running his palms down your inner thighs.

“You’re beautiful, darling”, he says, meaning your pussy.

“Yoongi, you’re still teasing”, you whine.

“Yeah, that’s right. I was teasing right now.”

“God, I can’t stand you”, you laugh, ruffling his hair.

Yoongi smiles, lowering himself like this. He purrs, kissing your pussy to get her used to him. Your laughter stops, a loud gasp replaces it.

“Mhm, so soft”, he lulls, wrapping his lips around your clit to give it a gentle suck.

“Oh.” Your hips flinch up. “Wow.” They drop again, legs twitching aggressively.

Yoongi lets go of you and finally darts out his tongue, guiding it through your folds to part them. You are already a little wet, making him purr in contentment. He loves your taste and your scent. He runs his hands to your hips, holding them safely. One squeeze for good measures.

“Don’t stop please”, you sigh, feeling more and more turned on. He is still gentle right now, going slow. It is so nice to be worked up this way.

Sometimes Yoongi gets really hungry for your pussy and he goes down on you sloppily and quickly. It overstimulates you within seconds, forcing you to yelp up and orgasm after just a few licks. He is very cocky whenever that happens because of how quickly he can make you climax. And you love these moments, they’re so sexy to you.

You can’t lie however and you have to admit that you really, really love when he is being gentle with you. The pleasure goes so much deeper and builds up so much more. The fact that he is capable of doing both is also very arousing to you.

“You’re so good”, you praise, voice breathy.

“Mhhm”, he purrs into you, guiding his wet tongue through your folds until he has your clit under it. He slides his left hand from your hips, using two of his fingers to part you and therefore expose more of your clit. Like this, he circles his tongue around it, careful not to grace it directly but instead make the area around it sensitive.

“God this is torture”, you both whine and chuckle, closing your legs on him slightly.

“Mh-hm, is good”, he lulls, pushing your legs apart with one hand. His tongue continues its teasing rounds while his right hand rubs your inner thigh. He purrs and does the unthinkable thing of dancing his tongue down to your entrance instead.

You throb around nothing, chasing him in a weak roll of your hips and cursing under your breath. If you weren’t already dizzy from the wine, you are definitely dizzy now that he teases you so much.

Yoongi listens to your needy curses, feeling really dizzy himself. You taste stronger than you did before, a sure sign that he managed to get you wetter. Yoongi laps it up deliciously, eyes closed and button nose buried between your soft folds. He loves when he gets messy from your pussy, burying his nose deeper while his tongue teases your entrance.

“Please, this is torture”, you let out in a whine, scratching his scalp softly but needily at the same time.

“What do you need?” he dares to ask as if he wasn’t teasing you on purpose. Gosh, he is such a menace when he is drunk and therefore playful.

“More, I can’t take the teasing please.”

“Again, you’re just impatient.”

“Min Yoongi”, you warn, lifting your head just enough that you can make eye contact with him. His eyes sparkle boyishly, his cheeks are flushed. He is also kicking his feet giddily.

“Okay, okay fine”, he laughs, “I give up. Do you want my fingers, mhm?”

“Yes please, two of them please.”

“Okay, I’m only doing this because you’re impatient.”

You drop your head with an exasperated groan, mumbling a quiet “you’re so annoying.”

He chuckles and puts the pads of his middle and ring finger against your entrance. He spits on them so the slip would be easier then finally applies pressure. You take him in greedily, walls practically sucking him in.

“Yes, god yes”, you moan, thrusting your hips ecstatically.

“Slipped right in”, he croaks, feeling his cock throb in his pants. He didn’t expect you to take him so easily nor to be so wet inside for that matter and it’s really affecting him. Once entirely inside, he begins moving, pumping his long digits in and out your soft walls.

“This feel so good”, you moan, fingers closing around his left hand.

“It does. Fuck darling, you’re…” he trails off, deciding to let his tongue do the talking another way. He presses it against your clit, licking it eagerly while his fingers fuck you slowly and deeply.

“Yes this, yes this, yes this, please this”, you chant, body beginning to writhe in pleasure. You always like to whine when he is teasing you, but it is always so worth it. Now that he finally pleasures your favourite spots, it makes you literally float on cloud nine. The warmth is so deep, so constant, so good. The slight intoxicated buzz of the wine makes it even more intense.

“This please, this please, this, this, ah this…”

Yoongi moans into you, grinding his cock into the ground. He is so turned on, head fuzzy and body running on nothing but you. He wanted to make you feel good ever since you went on your monologue about tea. He loves listening to you so much, everything you say is so interesting to him and you look so cute when your eyes are glowing from intoxication that Yoongi knew he had to make you feel good ever since you began talking about tea. Witnessing you in such a state, tasting how wet you are, feeling how much you clench is everything his drunken heart needed. And he wants to do everything in his power to make you feel as good as possible. He curls his fingers each time they grace your g-spot, staying there for a few seconds to massage the tender spot. And each time he pleasures your insides, he focuses his licks on the most sensitive part of your clit. Judging by the noises you are producing, this is going to make you orgasm.

You never tell him that something is bringing you close because it then does the exact opposite for you. You somehow stress yourself out about orgasming and then stop being close. So you always stay quiet until you are literally in the middle of climaxing. Yoongi never thought that it was weird that you did that, instead he studied your reactions until he learned just from your noises and movements when something he does is bringing you close. Like this, you can enjoy yourself without stressing and Yoongi is having the best time. Yoongi loves doing this for you because he loves you and he loves making you feel good.

Today is no different. Yoongi keeps using his fingers and mouth on you while you get noisier and shakier with each touch and lick. He can’t wait to have you climax, moaning with you as he brings you closer by the second.

Three more eager licks and with his fingers against your g-spot, and he breaks you.

“I’m cumming”, you moan, already shaking out of control.

Yoongi growls into you, enjoying the tug you have on his hair as he helps you ride out your orgasm. You are also grinding your hips into his face instinctively, smothering him in your warmth. He is in heaven. He really is.

“Oh, uh, ah”, you let out once overstimulation sets in, fleeing him in flinches of your hips, “ah, wait.”

Yoongi knows that you aren’t a particular fan of intense overstimulation and so he slips his fingers free, kissing a path up your body.

“Damn this was…okay phew”, you get out, making him chuckle and nibble on your jawline.

“Did you like it?” he coos drunkenly.

“Did I like it? I loved it, oh my lord.”

He snickers, sucking your cheek into his mouth as if he was eating your face.

“No, don’t do that”, you whine, pushing him off gently.

“I can’t help it. You’re so cute that I wanna eat you.”

You whine, nudging his chest because he flusters you so much. Yoongi smiles, snuggling his nose into your cheek.

“Do you want more?” he asks.

“Do you want more?” you ask him.

“Maybe? My cock’s so hard.”

“Oh god”, you snicker, “poor boy.”

“Yeah, poor boy. God, I wanna fuck you so bad”, he says, grinding his hips into you.

“Oh”, you gasp, shuddering in reaction and gripping his back, “Yoongi, holy fu-ah.”

“Please ___ can I fuck you? Please?”

“Yes, please do.”

He moans, kissing your cheek in gratefulness, “thank you, thank you, oh thank you.”

“Just do it, you drunk doofus you”, you snicker, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, right.” He sits up and looks around. “Wait, I need to figure this out. I don’t wanna expose my butt”, he says, making you laugh.

“I don’t think anyone would see”, you say, propping yourself up on your elbows so you could get the condom from your bag as he undresses.

“I can’t risk it. What if someone does? Then they’ll see my pale ass. That’s embarrassing. I wouldn’t complain if I actually tanned, but I look like a ghost right now.”

“You would still complain, come on now”, you cackle, making him chuckle.

“You know me so well.” He finally managed to get his cock out of his pants without exposing his butt. “There we go. That should work”, he says.

“That’s so sexy, baby. Here, condom.”

“Thanks, darling”, he accepts it and opens it to roll it on. 

You watch him, feeling so excited for what was to come. He gives his cock three jerks for good measures then lies himself over you.

“Hey there”, you say, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Hey there”, he says, leaning into your touch. He guides his cock to your pussy, grinding it through your folds. “Mhm, so wet. Can I stick it in?”

You nod your head vigorously, “stick it in, please.”

“Look at me, yeah?” 

“Mhm yeah.” 

Pressure on your entrance for just a second then he breaches you, cock sliding into you easily. You and he moan together, eyes getting lost in the other’s.

“Wow, this is so nice”, you sigh.

“Yeah, so nice”, his voice is practically nothing but airy sounds. He is so far gone, giving up completely once he bottoms out. “Fuck”, he presses out, eyes rolling back and head dropping so his nose is nuzzled into your cheek.

“You’re so deep”, you croak.

“Mh-hm”, he whimpers, nodding his head. He shivers when you run your hand down his back so you could hold his hip.

“Move please.”

He fulfills your wish gladly, rolling his hips into you gently but deeply. He wants to stay inside you, feel you around every single inch of him. He is so happy when he is inside you, so happy.

You gasp and moan his name, head rolling to the side in defeat. He chases you, lips against your neck and eyes closed.

“Feels good?”

“Yeah, feels good. You’re so deep, ah Yoongi.”

“Mhm so deep. You’re taking me so well, baby.”

“Yoongi…”

“I love when you moan my name. Makes me wanna fuck you so good.”

You shiver from just his words, arching your back. Your clothed breasts rub against his clothed chest this way. He reaches down and caresses your back once before he pins you down onto the blanket gently, sliding his thumb to your clit.

“Yoongi”, you moan louder, clenching around him and scrunching your face.

“So good, such a good girl. Keep moaning my name”, he lulls, turning your brain and limbs into goo. He is so sexy when he praises you. You didn’t even know that you had such a huge praise kink until he did it one night and you literally melted.

“Yoongi…”

“That’s it, that’s my girl. Such a good girl”, he praises, rewarding you with slightly harsher thrusts. He is still incredibly gentle, but there is strength behind them. Strength and skill, meant to make you see stars.

“Yoongi!” you wail, arching your back.

He moans in reaction, twisting the blanket above your head. His cock throbs deep inside you, his stomach flutters. There is nothing that gets him off more than when you moan his name. He feels so good when you do and as if he could fucking do anything. Seriously, you give him such a boost of confidence when you act this way during sex that Yoongi feels almost unbearably cocky.

“Don’t stop please.”

“Put your finger in my mouth.”

You open your eyes, “huh?”

“My mouth, put it in”, he says, sticking his tongue out.

You follow his order, although confused. Yoongi takes your finger and licks it greedily, making you moan from the sensation.

“You’re so hot, oh god”, you mewl, throbbing around him.

He purrs and lets it slip out, “rub your clit with it. I need both arms to support myself. My shoulder hurts otherwise.”

“Oh god, you’re so sexy. Yoongi”, you moan, replacing his finger with yours.

“There we go, good girl”, he growls, slamming his elbow onto the ground next to your head and grabbing the blanket roughly. He angles his hips better, using the new support to pump into you sloppily.

“Yoo-”, is all you get out before your tongue stops working and all you can make are the most primal of noises.

“Yeah that’s it, isn’t it? You like that, don’t you?” he taunts, sounding so sure of himself.

You nod your head vigorously, whimpering each time he buries his cock deep inside your walls.

“Of course you do. You are so beautiful when I fuck you. Shit, I’m dizzy. You’re driving me insane.”

“Yoongi, you…cum…”

“Don’t hold back, I’ve got you baby, I’ve got you.”

“Say…it…please…”

He cradles your cheek, lowering his drunken voice seductively.

“Cum for me, darling.”

“Ah, Yoongi!” you break instantly, scratching up his back as you clasp him desperately.

“Good girl, cum for me, such a good girl”, he talks you through it at first, but then you squeeze him so tightly that he feels lost as well, “you’re making me cum too, ah ___.”

He drops his face into the crook of your neck, releasing into the condom a second later with a guttural growl. You scream his name in reaction, wrapping your limbs around him as tightly as possible. It forces his weakened body to drop on yours.

“___”, your name leaves him in a whimper, his arms cradle you against him as best as possible, “wow this was, wow.”

“Yeah, so wow”, you agree, melting under him. It’s so nice to have his weight on you and to calm down in his arms.

“How are you? Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, so okay. You?”

“I think my heart gave up. I nutted so hard.”

“God you”, you laugh loudly, “ever since you have orange hair, you’re a menace.”

“Mhm yeah probably”, he teases and gives your cheek a kiss for good measures before he has to sit up and slip out so the condom wouldn’t fall into you. He rolls it off his cock and ties a knot, then wraps it up in a fresh napkin. He hands you your panties.

You sit up and put them on while he stuffs his cock back into his pants.

“I can’t believe we just did that. Do you think someone saw us?”

“Probably not. The day is really quiet.”

“Let’s hope so. Oh my god ___, I can’t believe we did that. Are we insane?” he says, suddenly shrinking shyly as he draws closer with a giggle. He even hides his face behind his hands, laughing with his shoulders.

“Actually, you’re right. What were we thinking?” you agree, suddenly having to giggle shyly as well.

“This is what happens when we drink wine. We have stupid ideas like that.”

You agree in snickers, falling around his neck in a tight hug. He hugs you back instantly, giggling into your neck.

“I love being with you, Yoongi baby.”

“I love being with you, ___ baby.”

[sweetinsaniiity]

Don't Lean On Me

► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - tsundere!outcast!Yeosang x semi-stalker!reader◄ ► 𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎/𝙰𝚄 - enemies-to-lovers trope, college au, heavy angst, tooth-rotting fluff, Yeosang is kind of an !asshole (in the beginning), reader fell first but he fell harder, reader is down bad for Yeosang, reader has !stalker tendencies, abandonment in the rain, eventual make up, happy ending ◄ ► 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - PG-14+, kissing scene, suggestive content, threats (both harmful and non-harmful), scene where Yeosang holds your arm to kick you out, mentions of a car accident (non-graphic), no smut this time, sorry folks ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 27K words (I can explain) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - Yeosang was the campus freak. An outcast, to say the least. He didn't particularly do anything, well, except cover his face with a black mask and avoid everybody. He never takes it off and nobody has ever seen his face before. But you couldn't help but fall for him, so you follow him every single time. You get caught, however, and he threatens you to stay away from him. To add salt to the injury, you were both partnered for a project that will exempt you from the subject next semester. ◄ ► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - It wasn't my intention to make this as long as it is, and again, easygoing fluff without any drama and plot-twists aren't my thing, but I really wanted to start 2025 with something sweet! Stay tuned because the next one will be EXTREMELY TOXIC. Enjoy! Title from Amity Affliction. Also, I'm really sick right now, bear with me. ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @0rangemilk @ginger-mingi @ruubyrubes @oddracha @jaytheatiny @roxannecos @juicy-red @cheolliehugs @sunnysidesins @jjongbearshoney @midnightrebel1028 ◄

► 𝙽𝚎𝚝s - @dove-net @keopihaus @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet @pirateeznet @hiraya-m ◄

It was him, yet again. It was very easy to spot him as he always took the same spot where he was now at the far corner of the classroom where everybody blatantly ignored him.

But not you though. You could have burned a hole in this guy's skull with how hard you stared at him every single time you saw him. How could you not? The way his rigid posture sat straight as he tuned the world out with his earphones and the way his uninterested eyes would scan all over the room definitely caught your eye.

And you knew that everybody in the classroom did, too. But that was the thing, you weren't aloof to all the sneers and snickers they sent towards his direction.

You tapped the person sitting to your left, who just also happened to be one of your best friends, without leaving your sights on the mysterious man that already made your heart beat unknowingly. "Hey, who's that again?"

You've been in this particular class, the only class you share, but for some reason, you never did bother to ask. Until now.

Yunho glances behind him with a small frown, following the direction of where your index finger was pointing. His brows tilt up ever so slightly as you watch his face slowly transform into that of recognition.

"Kang Yeosang," he said more as a surprise rather than a statement. He turns back to look at you inquisitively. "Very smart, like, really damn smart, but that's not what a lot of people notice at first."

He was right. You were guilty as charged, though, because it was also the reason why you were suddenly interested in him. 

Yeosang wore a face mask that covered half of his face from his nose to his chin. Now, that part wasn't odd in itself since everybody wore them once in a while for whatever reason that may be, but Yeosang wore them literally everywhere. He never took them off, at least, from what you know.

But that was definitely the case. Again, you weren't privy to all the whispers that travelled in the air. Kang Yeosang literally never took the mask off of his face. Nobody has ever seen what the guy looked like.

"Don't be judgmental," you murmured, forcing your head to look forward. "Nobody does something different for absolutely no reason at all." 

"I didn't say anything like that," Yunho counters. "I do admit that it is a bit odd, but hey, whatever works. I mean, look..."

He dug something out of his coat pocket. A small, compact mirror. You raised a brow at Yunho, but he shrugs it off. He angled the mirror and then you realized what he was doing. 

"He's already good-looking with that thing on," Yunho muttered under his breath as you both looked at Yeosang. "Imagine if he actually took that mask off? There will be no pussy left for everyone in this building."

You rolled your eyes dramatically, ignoring his crass statement. What Yunho said, though, you couldn't refute. 

Even with the face mask covering almost the majority of his face, there was no denying that Yeosang was simply gorgeous. There was an itch for you to do something about the mask, but you willed them to go away. It was none of your business.

A pang hits your chest. You suddenly felt bad for him, people were just mean for no definitive reason. It shouldn't have mattered that Yeosang wanted to wear a mask, hell, even if he wore a chicken mascot costume it was still none of everybody's business.

But alas. Such is human nature.

Your class had started, and as usual, it was a bore. Still, you had to endure it for your grades. You couldn't concentrate, however, as your mind kept drifting to the mysterious man who sat at the far corner of the classroom away from prying eyes.

Against your better judgment, you swiveled your head once more to take a good look at him, but your heart leapt to your throat when you made eye contact with him. That meant he was already looking in your direction before you turned.

Your jaw slackened, your heart beating faster and faster you were afraid it would jump out of your ribcage, as you stared into his eyes. They were captivating. It was the understatement of the century. His eyes were a home for a tempest that raged without end.

In short, they were dead. At some point, you were sure that his eyes were once alive because despite the horrors that hid them, you could tell he had a beautiful soul.

A soul that you didn't have anymore, for the moment that your eyes had met his, it was over. He stole it from you just as fast as the light from his eyes was stolen, as well.

Dryness covered your entire mouth when his brow raised in question, challenging you to say something to him since you were staring at him so intently.

You were rendered frozen in your seat. Not for nothing, but he must be doing something to hypnotize you. Yeah, that was probably it, why else would you stay unmoving for the favour of staring at him?

Yeosang tilted his head in curiosity, leaning back on his seat to get comfortable. He crossed his arms, eyes not breaking their contact with yours. You gulped, even his gestures were so fascinating.

There was a world within this classroom, and the only inhabitants in it were you and Yeosang. Forget your class, it was too late for that because you'd already lost yourself in this. Nobody paid attention to the both of you, and nobody had noticed what was going on.

Not even when everybody had started standing up since class was over had distracted you. The one that did, however, was Yunho's hand wrapping around your arm to catch your attention.

You jumped at the touch, your head snapping quickly in his direction, eyes widened, clearly startled. Yunho chuckled in amusement at your expression. "You okay? You seemed pretty lost there," he asked.

You robotically turned back to answer Yunho. "Yeah, I'm good," you cleared your throat. "Just a bit distracted, boring class, you know?"

"Right," Yunho drawled, eyes squinting in suspicion. He stood up, his sling bag on his shoulder already, and smoothly picked up your tote that contained all your notes. "Anyhow. Jongho's already ordered us some brunch, we have to go."

You nodded, hesitantly standing up, watching as Yunho went ahead to the exit and started talking to another friend of his. 

When you looked back at that particular spot, you were disheartened to see that Yeosang was already gone. 

Your eyes tried to find the masked brunette, but no such luck. He must have rushed out the moment you looked away.

What a shame, you thought with an internal pout. You followed Yunho with an aimless gait through the halls, you trusted him to get you to where you needed to go because you didn't even trust yourself right now.

You've always been a sucker for the eccentric. While you didn't think Yeosang was one per se, you were just so sick of normalcy. It wasn't entirely for you.

"Right on time, lazy bums," Jongho smirked, standing up as you and Yunho both approached him. "I already paid for everything---don't even fucking think about it."

Yunho paused, mouth agape, the hand that held his wallet frozen in the air. "C'mon, dude. You can't do this every time. We just want to hang out."

Jongho sat back down, gesturing for the both of you to sit down. "Yeah, well, I asked for it, so it's a no-brainer, yes?"

Yunho rolled his eyes, temporarily accepting defeat, because you all knew none of you would win. Choi Jongho was born into a family that had conglomerates everywhere. He had the money, which you and Yunho had made clear that you didn't need, but he did it, anyway.

You inched a bit closer to Jongho and gave him a small peck on his cheeks. "Thanks, baby bear. But Yunho's right. We can pay for our stuff."

Jongho jokingly pushed you away, making you giggle softly. He hastily rubbed the spot you pecked. "Don't ever do that again," he groaned. "And stop being an ungrateful brat. I swear I need new friends."

You smiled a bit, your lips pursed with the action. It didn't reach your eyes, Jongho noticed. He raised a brow to stare at Yunho, who only shrugged.

You realized that the three of you were in a cafe near the college grounds. The ambience was nice, but you couldn't remember the last time where you just sat like this, enjoying the moment with your friends, and simply just passing time.

Your appetite had long gone, but you couldn't tell Jongho that since he'd paid for the food. You had to at least pretend you were enjoying it. At least, they were. Yunho chuckled at something Jongho said, but you didn't even hear it.'

A certain brunette flashed in your mind again. You paused, suddenly wondering what he was doing. You knew it was ridiculous, Yeosang probably thought you were ridiculous. 

You wanted to dig a hole and bury yourself in it, cringing at the fact that Yeosang probably thought that you were staring at him just to make fun of him, just like the rest. You weren't, though, but he possibly can't know that.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when the distinct clatter of utensils hit your ears. It was Jongho's doing, you frowned in confusion. 

"Alright, what the hell is wrong with you?" Jongho demanded, leaning his elbow on the table, twisting his body so he'd face you. "You've been so distracted the entire time and it's getting on my nerves."

You glanced up at him and stared at him for a good couple of seconds. He wasn't going to yield, so you couldn't keep the eye contact you started. It suddenly got difficult to swallow with how dry your throat was getting. 

"I'm just tired," you mumbled, sounding unconvincing even to yourself. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, cut the crap," Yunho interjected, cluttering his utensils in a comical way that you couldn't help but let out a real smile. "I know why you're like this. It's Kang Yeosang, isn't it?"

You blushed beet red. You supposed to weren't discreet. The intensity in which your scalp tingles at the mention of his name was electrifying, the sensation akin to when you met eyes with each other prior to this.

Jongho's brows reached his hairline, his expression turning from curious to one of complete surprise. "Yeosang? Flower-looking dude, pale skin, about 'ye height?" Jongho gestured to his own height. "How do you know him?"

You and Yunho looked at each other before turning to Jongho in suspicion. "I have one class with him," you admitted.

"How do you know him?" Yunho questioned with scrutiny. 

Jongho hesitated. He looked between you and Yunho repeatedly for what seemed like a while, before he sighed deeply, looking around him cautiously. When he saw that the coast was clear, he leaned closer. You and Yunho did the same.

"You didn't hear this from me," he said, eyes hard. "Yeosang is, was, my childhood friend. Remember my friend that I always spoke about that always had my back?"

It clicked, and you nodded. "That's him? But you said he's very funny and talkative," you blurted out without thinking. You were genuinely flabbergasted. 

Jongho drummed his fingers on the table, a faraway look in his eyes present before he spoke again. "Something happened that made him the way he is now," he cryptically explained. "It's not my story to tell. All I ask is to not judge him."

You elbowed Yunho and sassed at him with your eyes, signaling with the 'I-told-you-so' look. He smirked, pushing your elbow away.

"Little Miss Y/N here," Yunho sarcastically gestured to you, then ruffled your hair messily. "Has a bit of a crush with your childhood friend---"

"Shut up, I definitely do not," you hissed, though it didn't have any bite to it. You didn't know it was possible for your face to be redder than it already was, but here you were.

Just then, Jongho started laughing, his voice bellowing loudly in the small confines of the cafe, earning your table stares, but you couldn't care less. His gummy smile had always been contagious, so it was no surprise when you started laughing along with him.

"It's such a shame, though," Jongho chuckled away the remnants of his laughter with a small shake of his head. "I know Yeosang even though we fell apart. You're definitely his type, down to a T."

Yunho started to laugh but nodded his head in agreement anyway. "I could see that, honestly. Mingi has a thing or two for you."

"No, he doesn't," you rolled your eyes. Song Mingi was the campus crush, and you did have a crush on him before, but that ship had long sailed and it was fleeting anyway. "What makes you say that, though, Jongie?"

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know?" Jongho smirked, playfully teasing you, much to your chagrin. 

You groaned. "Seriously!"

Of course, you weren't going to tell him that you were definitely curious now. You also weren't going to tell him that you were going to use this information to your advantage.

Jongho flicked your forehead lightheartedly. "He likes cute things, plain and simple," he shrugged, side-eyeing you. "That includes potential girlfriends, too."

The mischief in that Cheshire-like smile that was bigger than anything you've ever seen. You were glad he crossed his arms and leaned back on his seat, you didn’t want him in your face.

That didn't mean you weren't going to think about what he said for days, though.

Unfortunately, you hadn't really seen Yeosang anymore after that. 

He didn't attend the once-a-week class the next week, and you couldn't attend the one the following week. You had an unlucky bout of allergy due to the pollen going around campus. All Yunho did that whole day he visited was roll his eyes at your antics.

You were hoping to cross paths with him again, even though you knew you weren't going to talk to him anyway. You just wanted to take one more peek at him before you continued on with your life.

Yeah, totally not creepy. 

"Good morning, Y/N."

You were forced out of your thoughts when a voice from behind you sounded. You were currently in front of the professors' lounge early in the morning.

"Oh! Good morning, Mr. Park, I'm so sorry to disturb you so early in the morning," you bowed deeply in the presence of  your professor. 

"It's quite alright, dear," Park Seonghwa, your professor in that one class you missed, chuckled. You couldn't help but loosen up, he really was your favourite professor and you respected him a lot. 

He opened his briefcase to get out a stack of papers. "I hope everything is fine on your end? Here, take them," he handed them to you.

You nodded, explaining that it was pollen and that it was fine now. "Wonderful," he said. "Regardless, I expect my star student in my class next week. Good day."

"Thank you, Professor," you bowed one more time before you completely walked away.

There were more notes than expected, you realized that as you riffled through them, skimming just to get a general gist from where you stopped and where you should begin to catch up.

You weren't one of those students that studied a lot, but you also weren't careless about your grades. You just wanted to get by, and you were just lucky that all your professors remember and like you well enough to give you some notes when you miss some classes.

You sighed, contemplating what to do. With all these notes, you had to concentrate on them for a day or two. Final was coming and you didn't have enough time to study the following days. 

To the library it is, you decided. Your feet were already taking you to that sacred place that you love so much. And when you entered, your mood instantly lifted.

You loved how empty the space was, yet it was extensive in nature. It was the perfect labyrinth to get trapped in; once you get inside the minds of great authors or whatnot and relive the adventures, the sorrow, and the laughter imprinted and immortalized by the writings in the pages of their books, you can never leave.

It was perfect. You approached the front desk so you could greet your friend who was working part-time to sustain his scholarship. He didn't notice you at first, but when he did, he was all smiles. 

"Well, look who we have here," he smirked, closing the book he, himself, held in his hand. "Good to see you, Y/N."

You chuckled softly so as to not break the peace. "Likewise, Kim Hongjoong," you nodded. "I need a couple of books about these for my finals..."

Hongjoong gently took the notes Professor Park gave you and scanned them quickly before doing whatever it was he needed to do on his computer. He wrote a series of numbers on the paper before handing them back to you.

"I put the aisles and shelf numbers on every book you need," he murmured, pointing them out. "Shouldn't be too difficult to find."

"Got it. I appreciate the help, Joong," you thanked him. He nodded and waved you off, dismissing you. You couldn't help but laugh under your breath.

Just like he said, the books weren't too difficult to find, and soon, you found yourself with a stack of them. You were pleased when you found that your favourite spot was free, and so, you studied away.

You lost yourself in the process, like you always did when you started, but along the way, there was an itch in your neck that was begging to be noticed.

Subconsciously, you looked up, and your world stopped along with your heart.

Yeosang, too, was busying himself with a stack of his own books. Of course, he still wore that mask on his face, but there was something different about him from the last time you had seen him.

His hair was styled up in a way that looked effortlessly good, his forehead was a bit exposed and you were able to see his eyes clearly this time even though his nose was deep in the book he held. 

He was a couple of tables away from you, isolated from everybody at the very end of the library where you knew not a lot of people went. It reminded you of the way he sat down in your class.

His presence just engulfed you, and you didn't know why. The grip you had on your book would've been suffocating had it been alive, you couldn't stop staring at Yeosang.

His brown cashmere coat perfectly complemented his physique; it made him look very masculine. His cropped out hair fitted him well, and the way he carried himself interested you so much.

The way his fingers moved to turn the pages of his book mesmerized you, brought you into a world where you wondered what it would feel like if that hand was holding yours. He wasn't even doing anything but sit down like someone would in a library, yet he simply exuded grace and elegance.

You knew then and there, that this wasn't just a fleeting crush on a man that doesn't even know your name.

Ever since then, you made an effort to go the library every single day just to peek a glance on Yeosang. Whether it was hours or minutes to an end, you didn't mind. Of course, you didn't want to be borderline creepy, there were times where you actually needed to study and so many times where you didn't realize that he had left because you were so engrossed with your work.

His schedule was simple, you learned that he'd go to the library every other day either to just read or actually study. You took note of the books he read, they were way too advanced for you. Yunho wasn't lying - this man was intelligent.

Your little crush soon turned into genuine admiration. If one would look hard enough, it was easy to say that Yeosang was one of the most hardworking people you've had the pleasure to go to university with.

And just like you, he'd get lost in his world once he got too deep, and it was when you'd take the time to study him just a bit more.

You had memorized the notes that you were given from front to back, word per word, punctuation per punctuation, but you still went to the library anyway.

There were times where Yeosang would subconsciously look forward, he would take a break from reading and stretch his neck, and you'd panic and look down, but you were sure he didn't notice you. You sure hoped he didn't, the blush on your cheeks could be seen miles away.

Hongjoong raised his brow one day when you handed him the book that you wanted to check out for a week, and you couldn't look him straight in the eye.

"The Art Of War?" Hongjoong blurted out incredulously. He sheepishly looked down when a couple of people turned to our direction with a small glare. You bit your lip when he kept staring at the book.

He leaned forward, his voice hushed, his eyes glowing with mirth, but with suspicion nonetheless. "I didn't know you were interested in Machiavellian beliefs and principles."

You weren't. In fact, you didn't give a crap or two about it. Yunho snatched the book from Hongjoong and flipped a couple of pages. "Damn, I can't even understand this," he chortled, giving the book back. "You're really gonna read this?"

You rolled your eyes in half-annoyance to cover up how red the tips of your ears were. You saw Yeosang reading the book for days before he returned it, and you just wanted to see what kind of books he read.

You wanted to know what ran in Yeosang's head as he sat there and read it and maybe, just maybe, you were absolutely insane in the head because you liked him a bit too much.

"Is it so hard to believe that I'm interested in it? Geez," you murmured, grabbing the book and hastily chucking in your purse as if doing so would make Hongjoong and Yunho forget that it existed.

"Yes," they both answered in unison.

You scoffed, offended that they actually thought so, but you couldn't really get mad at them, because it was truly unbecoming of you. You weren't really interested in how the world worked, you were a hopeless romantic, and you wanted to stay that way for a while.

"Maybe it's in the air, someone just returned that book yesterday after a week," Hongjoong scoffed, grabbing a book that you just logged into to check out anything. "Yeah, that guy, Kang Yeosang. Cool guy, a bit withdrawn, kinda weird, but cool regardless."

Yunho's eyes almost popped out of its sockets and he turned to you with the most shit-eating grin on his face. He was about to open his mouth, but before he could, you quickly reached up and covered it. It was a challenge since Yunho was a giant, but you didn't want him tattling. You wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Ah, we have classes in a couple of minutes," you laughed nervously, stomping on Yunho's foot, making him groan in pain that was muffled by your hand. "Bye, Joong!"

You left, dragging the big Jeong Yunho comically while Hongjoong watched with his mouth opening and closing repeatedly like a wee little fish.

Yunho forcefully removed your hand from his face the moment you got outside, but it didn't stop him from giving you that mouth-splitting grin that you wanted to wipe off of his face. "I can expla---"

"Oh, no need," he playfully teased in a sing-songy voice. "You're already head over heels for the guy, it's remarkable---"

"Jeong Yunho, I swear to God---"

"I cannot wait to actually tell Jongho, man, I thought you'd give Mingi a chance---"

You turned around to run away from his relentless teasing, you could hear him laughing behind you. You giggled under your breath and usually you'd entertain his teasing, but you were so confused on what you felt for Yeosang lately.

The entire night was spent on you reading the book and as expected, you abhorred it. You crumpled your face in genuine skepticism, did Yeosang truly enjoy this? 

The more you turned the pages, the more pissed you got, suddenly realizing that you were doing this for a man who doesn't even give two shits about you. It was deplorable. 

After a day or two, you decided to return the book. There was no point in keeping it if you weren't interested in it anyway, but you decided to do it later. You'd sit down on your usual spot first.

To your surprise and dismay, Yeosang wasn't sitting in his usual spot. It wasn't really odd, sometimes his schedule did become sporadic, but still, your heart slowed its beating. You already felt a bit down.

But there would have been no need. Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you as you sat down at your usual spot. Before you could turn around and inspect, they leaned down, and you felt hands on your shoulders. They were firm and sure.

Shivers travelled down your spine when a deep, rich voice hit your ear as they whispered. "Machiavelli, huh?"

The voice was muffled with something, like a mask. Heat soaked up your entire face and the tips of your ears. You had forgotten to put the book away and thought it was a great idea to have it out in the open.

Or maybe, you did it on purpose hoping that Yeosang would see and pique his interest.

"Meet me at the blind spot to the left behind the staircase. If you're not there within three minutes, I will sabotage all of your projects until you graduate," he ordered gruffly, his tone gravelly and unpleasant, to be quite frank. "All of them."

A cold bucket of water could have been poured directly on your head without warning and it still wouldn't be able to bring you any type of dread like those words would ever do. It was insane.

You didn't hesitate, haphazardly throwing all your belongings hastily without any sort of order in your purse before sprinting out of the library. Today was not the day to test the validity of the whispered threat.

A record should've been awarded to you with how quick your feet had taken you were Yeosang told you to. At first, you didn't see him, but when you noticed a shadow fleeting in and out at the very corner of the staircase, you knew it was him. It was indeed a blind spot - no one would be able to see him unless they were looking for him.

The moment you stepped in that hidden area, you were roughly slammed against the adjacent wall. To say you were shocked would be an understatement.

Right away, you tried to cradle your head to halt the oncoming nausea from the sheer force, but your hands were also pinned above your head.

"What," you said rather than questioned. "W-What are you doing?"

When your eyes finally focused on what's in front of you, you couldn't help but let out a small gasp. His black mask covered his face well, but never his eyes. God, you hoped not.

You were right all along, his eyes were beautiful, especially this close. You could smell his cologne, too. Heat started to travel from your neck all the way to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on his scent.

"Cut the shit," Yeosang spat, venom coated in every syllable. His hold on your hands tightens to the point of pain. "Stop following me."

Time stopped at that very second. His voice was a lot deeper than you thought. You swallowed, Yeosang's eyes subconsciously trailing down your throat at the motion. "I-I'm not following you," you squeaked out.

"Oh?" Yeosang tilted his head. The movement would have been cute, if he didn't look angry and menacing right now. One of his hands let go to dig into your purse. He grabbed the book you were supposed to return, but couldn't. 

"You don't look like the type to read Machiavellian beliefs, princess," he gritted out. "And I mean that with full offense."

You frowned, thoroughly confused as to why Yeosang was, frankly, acting like an ass towards you. "You're a judgmental one, aren't you? What if I was?"

"Then what's his name?"

You blanched, mouth getting dry from the sudden question. Yeosang's unimpressed glare catches you off guard. You felt your heart cracking a bit.

"I'm not sure," you admitted, voice small, embarrassed to be caught red-handed in a lie. You bit your lip, looking down towards the floor to avoid his indifferent eyes.

For a moment, you both stayed like that - Yeosang pinning you, and you just staying still just to see what he was going to do. And then, he lets go, and puts his hands on either side of you on the wall with a loud thud.

"It's Niccolo," he murmured, bitterness seeping towards his voice. It made your frown grow deeper.

"N-Niccolo?"

Yeosang scoffed, rolling his eyes sarcastically at you. "Yes. Your brain stutters, too?"

That definitely stung. You didn't know what to say but, "W-What?"

"W-What?" Yeosang repeated, voice higher in pitch in an effort to mimic and mock you as if you were a degenerate. It was honestly offensive, but you were too frozen to do anything. 

"No wonder why you're so obvious, this here," he continued, his index finger tapping your temple once. "Doesn't work quite well, doesn't it?"

It was an eloquent way of saying that you were, indeed, stupid. Your manner completely transforms, it becomes rigid against him. You wanted to scoff, who knew that his angelic eyes held this much contempt in them?

Your mouth opens to defend your honour against his insults, but the same index finger touches your lips, effectively shushing you. Warmth automatically spreads through them.

"Ah, ah, ah, you have absolutely no right to talk right now," he interrupted rather rudely, his voice dropping an octave. You forced yourself not to shiver. "I mean it, Y/N. Stop fucking following me. I don't like my privacy invaded."

You couldn't stop the sigh that bubbled up your chest. "I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, but we could have talked this out."

He chuckled, the sound of it dark and devoid of anything that resembled emotions. "You forfeited that right since the first day. You're not as subtle as you think you are, princess."

"Don't call me that," you frowned, your hand sticking out to push his chest away, albeit weakly. "What is your damn problem?" 

"What's my problem?" Yeosang reiterates, his tone taking an angrier and more aggravated tone to it. "My problem is that you are literally tailing me at the library like I'm some sort of circus zoo animal."

He sarcastically chuckled, more to himself than towards you. "But then again, that's what everyone thinks."

You felt your heart breaking a little when he adjusted the mask he was wearing as if doing so would protect him right now when in reality, you were the one in need of protection. Behind the malice in his voice was a hurt so deep, it was impossible to ignore.

His eyes met yours again, and this time, they were ablaze. "Who put you up to this?" Yeosang snarled. "Who fucking told you to watch me? And why? So you and your stupid little friends would have a laugh and go?"

"No, that's not it, I swear," you immediately denied, shaking your head repeatedly to make a point. "I didn't mean for it to look like that, I-I promise you---"

"So why the hell are you following me? Tell me," he demanded. You yelped when he roughly lifted your chin up. "At least give me the decency of looking at me straight in the eye while you tell me why you've been watching me."

"Ow, you're hurting me," you pried his hand off of your face successfully, slightly glaring at him in the process. "It's not like that," you hesitated, gulping once more before continuing. "Is it so hard to believe that someone actually admires you, or something?"

He raised a brow in irritation. "God, you're so full of shit."

He pulls away, jutting one arm out and shoves your shoulder hard - hard enough for it to collide with the wall behind you. You were stunned at his aggression. 

"Stay the hell away from me," he growled, bending down to pick up the backpack he had that you didn't even notice. He started to emerge from the staircase towards the hallways where, surprisingly, no one was. 

He gave you one last glare, a scathing one. "If I catch you again, I won't go easy on you next time. Save your judgment for somebody else."

You scoffed, emerging from the same spot. You inevitably ended up in front of him; the hallways were narrow, unfortunately. You looked up at him, not knowing exactly what to say. It wasn't like you didn't know where he came from, he was probably creeped out by your behaviour.

But you weren't going to tell him that it was because of your crush with him, especially not now that you know he clearly doesn't like you.

"I'm dead serious, Y/N. Stay away from me," he glared. "Now, if you'll kindly fuck off..."

He moves past you, his shoulders deliberately hitting yours, causing you to stagger back a little bit. The only thing you could do from then was to look behind you as you watched him walk away.

You couldn't help but notice how confident his gait was - how sure he was of himself. You shook your head in disbelief, utterly and thoroughly confused, not knowing what to believe at this point.

Tears started to form in the corner of your eyes. The resonating voice of realization in your head made you numb, the mortification slowly trickling down your chest slowly. It tightens as the shame presents itself at the discomfort written on your face.

It wasn’t like he was wrong, because definitely had a valid point. Still, you couldn’t help the cascade of tears that started to fall from your eyes from the direct confrontation.

A thought had suddenly struck your head as you watched him walk away and disappear when he rounded the corner of the hallway - how did he even know your name?

It wouldn’t be the last time you and Yeosang encountered each other. One way or another, you were especially hyper aware of his presence.

You stopped going to the library. You weren’t an idiot, you weren’t going to frequent a place where you know you weren’t wanted. Yeosang, however, made it a point to glare at you every single time your eyes would meet.

That in itself would have been fine, but when he started to purposely bump into your shoulders hard enough to send you reeling backwards, it became a little personal. You certainly didn’t miss his little smirk when he saw you riled up.

You actively avoided him for good. Curse you for being attracted to the eccentric. 

Today was one of those - you sat in your usual seat along with Yunho while Yeosang was in that same isolated spot he liked taking since nobody wanted to be associated with him. It was fine, it wasn’t difficult to ignore him given his little attitude towards you.

”Hey,” Yunho called softly. You raised a brow in question. “You and Yeosang got beef, or something?”

“No, not that I know of,” you frowned. “Why?”

”Because he’s been staring, or rather, shooting daggers at you the moment you sat down. He figured out your weird little habit of watching him, huh?” Yunho smirked, crossing his arms.

You grumbled a little curse in his direction, making him chuckle at your antics. You didn’t doubt what he said, though. Yeosang definitely didn’t like you and you gave him the ammunition to do so.

The commotion died down gradually when the professor entered the classroom and hushed everybody. Soon enough, you were able to tune out the prickling sensation towards the back of your neck you knew came from Yeosang’s stares.

You bunched your brows up, though, when you noticed that your professor wasn’t carrying his usual lecture materials and, instead, had a small box in his hands. It didn’t happen often with college students, but he definitely had everybody’s attention hanging in a thread successfully.

”Good day, everybody,” Professor Choi San greeted with a soft smile, his dimples deepening at the gesture, along with his eyes that laid subdued behind a pair of glasses that made him look undeniably attractive. He shakes the box that he held in one hand while he gestured to the class with the other. “Before the year ends, I’d like everybody to do a project instead of the usual examinations. It’ll be a two-person team effort.”

You automatically turned to your side and bumped your elbows at Yunho, who was already looking at you with a gleeful smile. However, that bubble soon burst when Professor Choi cleared his throat, effectively silencing the room once again. “Your partners will be randomized,” he shook the box once more to prove his point. “I’ve already picked half of the class, random as well, to pick out names inside this box.”

What the hell kind of concept is this? You couldn’t help but grimace on the inside, you knew barely anybody in this class, let alone work with somebody for a project that would determine if you will pass this class or not.

”It’s better than a written exam, yes?” Professor Choi smirked.

It was a bore. You had no interest in doing the project, but you have no choice. Surely, you didn’t want to pick a random name either. When Yunho was called, the little hope you had in partnering with him got shattered when he picked a name that wasn’t yours.

He still technically won the lottery though, because he was partnered up with Mingi. When he got back to the seat, you couldn’t help but chuckle at his excitement and relief when he showed you the paper that held Mingi’s name.

He, too, was worried he’d pick a random name even though he was a bit more extroverted than you were. “You’ll get lucky, too, I’m sure of it,” he patted your shoulders in faux comfort. “My luck extends to friends, you know?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “I can already see this project being a disaster with the two of you being together like this.”

He laughed out loud at your statement, and as if he had jinxed it, your name was suddenly called. Somebody had already picked your name. When you looked towards the front, it was by this girl you recalled seeing in multiple of your classes.

You offered her a small smile, one she returned awkwardly. She seemed nice enough to you and that’s all that mattered to you. Yunho and Jongho had told you before that you had an uncanny way of making someone like you eventually. 

“Kang Yeosang.”

Your breath hitched, deliberately straining your neck to not turn around and look at him as he walked towards the centre of the room with the Professor. 

It wasn’t just you - everybody turned silent as they all stared at the man with that confident shadow behind him. He knew everybody stared and he didn’t care, and you genuinely admired that mentality. If only you could turn back time and actually tell him that instead of watching him like a creep.

But you were pretty sure that you were the only one who stared at him with admiration. Everyone else judged him for hiding his face, and you could have sworn you felt your break a little more at that.

Finally, he puts his head inside the box and quickly pulls it out, the piece of paper in his hand crumpling with how hard he gripped it. You suddenly wished you could see his entire face to know exactly what he’s feeling.

You could hear the snickers behind you, people relieved that they had already picked a partner, or people laughing at him. They were just plain nasty, and you couldn’t take hearing them anymore.

You held your fists tights, they were almost white with how tight you were holding them. You tried tuning them out, focusing on the sight of Yeosang with Professor Choi.

You frowned, something wasn’t right. The way Yeosang’s brows furrowed. Suddenly, he looked up, eyes meeting yours. You froze, not knowing exactly why he was looking at you.

He took one more look at the paper before pocketing it. “I got L/N Y/N,” he said, clear as day, his deep voice resonating all over the vast classroom.

Your brain definitely short-circuited that day and you can’t read the future, but you were sure that this was the exact moment where you were sure that your life would turn upside down and change.

”Are you sure?” Professor Choi asked, confused, amidst all the hushed whispers that resounded all over the room. 

Redness spreads through your cheeks at all the unwanted attention. You turned to Yunho and tapped his arms cautiously “There goes my chance of being normal in school,” you murmured.

He patted your shoulders in comfort. “Professor Choi must’ve accidentally put your name twice without noticing.”

It was a legitimate cause, you’ve thought the very same thing. You couldn’t help but glance at Yeosang once more, and unbelievably, your cheeks became even hotter to the touch. You definitely wouldn’t mind partnering with him for this project.

And that’s exactly what happened. As it turns out, there was only one person left that didn’t have a partner yet. The girl who was partnered with you insisted that they be partnered, instead, and Professor Choi agreed, leaving you and Yeosang together.

You wanted to give him a piece of your mind for how he was treating you for the last few weeks, but that resolve faltered when you noticed Yeosang’s eyes from a distance. He looked hurt, and you knew why. 

He could hide under that glare or pretend that he was indifferent, but it definitely hurt him to be tossed around as if he wasn’t even in the room in the first place.

To add salt to the wound, Professor Choi instructed all partners to be seated together for the rest of the class. Yunho gave you a small peck on the cheek - platonically - before getting up and making his way towards Mingi.

”Can you guys keep that PDA bullshit somewhere else? So disrespectful to the public,” Yeosang murmured, his voice muffled by the mask, plopping down the seat where Yunho once was. “Does your boyfriend know you were stalking me?”

You scoffed, appalled at what he was trying to insinuate. “First of all, Yunho is my best friend—-”

”Yeah, that’s what they all say,” he smirked dirtily, his head swiveling towards you in a mocking move. “Then you find out they’re screwing. Tell me, are you the type of bitch who’ll give it in some random back alleyway? ”

The ringing in your ears became louder and louder, and it took you everything in your soul to not lash out in the middle of class and just grab your purse so you could smack the living daylights out of this guy.

”And what if I am? You sound bitter to me,” you challenged him, keeping your voice to a minimum, just to rile him up. You’d like to think of yourself as kind, but you are definitely not a pushover.

His brow shots up in mild surprise at your statement, clearly not expecting for you to stand up for yourself. His eyes had this unmistakable fire that contained fiery rage, and instead of standing down, you rolled your eyes at him. His eyes squint in response.

He did start this, but you wouldn’t let him finish. He was about to open his mouth and say something but you beat him to it.

”I feel bad for you,” you chuckled without any humour in it. “Nobody has shown you enough love in your life, it seems, and you don’t look like anybody who has ever given any ounce of love towards somebody else.”

Even if you meant what you had said, you immediately regretted saying it to his face directly. You bit your lip to stop the yelp that wanted to escape your throat when he gripped your arm fast.

”You don’t know a thing or two about me, princess,” he hissed, his grip on your arm tightening to a point of constriction. “You think you do, but you don’t.”

He pulled you harshly towards him. “What the hell are you doing?” You hissed back at him.

You tried to pry your arms away, but all that did was make his grip tighter. You looked around you and was displeased when nobody had noticed what was going on. Even Yunho was busy discussing with Mingi from where he was.

”Watch your damn mouth around me,” he warned you, his face dangerously close to your own. “You have no idea what I'm capable of.”

”Oh, sure. Says the guy who has a freaking face mask around his face like a little coward,” you sarcastically rebutted.

A deep chuckle hits your ears before he lets go. Nothing in particular happened after that, except for the contents of the project.

“Whoever does the best will be exempted for the rest of the year on exams and will automatically get an A,” Professor Choi bargained, much to everybody’s surprise. “You better do well.”

Damn it, you cursed internally. This project would be the challenge of a lifetime. Soon enough, class was dismissed, and you were determined to set things with Yeosang.

But apparently, he was, too. As usual, the moment class ended, Yeosang was nowhere to be seen. You were about to march off in annoyance when a hand from seemingly out of nowhere materialized and pulled you back in the now-empty classroom.

”I’ll cut this short,” he cleared his throat, as if that would do anything for you since he sounded muffled anyway. “I’ll do all the work, all you have to do is—-”

”And why would you do that?” You raised a brow in irritation, feeling what little left of your patience ebb away. “I’d have you know that I’m not half-bad in things like these.”

He grimaced, his fingers pinching his nose bridge like you were the one stuck-up one and not him. “That’s not what I’m trying to allude to here,” he sighed exasperatedly, eyes closed in deep thought. 

“Really, Yeosang? You want me to believe that?”

He went rigid, one eye opening to stare at you. You were caught off-guard by how heavy and lidded they were as he stared straight at you, unblinking. Was it something you said?

”Fine,” he muttered after what felt like an eternity. “We could do a solo performance and stuff.”

”Are you kidding me? That’s not how this works, and you know it,” you sarcastically remarked, throwing your hands up in frustration. You never thought you’d meet anybody that could make you lose your mind like this after Jongho, it was incredible. “Do you live alone?”

He squinted his eyes immediately. “Yes,” he dragged out slowly. “Why?”

”Perfect,” you murmured. You quickly dug into your pocket for your phone and handed it to him. ”Here.”

He frowned, staring at your phone as if you were offering him some sort of alien symbiote and was planning to annihilate him. You jutted your phone towards him again even firmer when he didn’t move. “Well?”

“Hold on a minute,” he blurted out, breaking character for just a second. “Why my house? This is your idea, your house should be the available one, not mine.”

“You think I want to get inside the house of somebody that clearly has distaste for me? I think the hell not,” you counteracted. “I don’t live alone. I have two roommates, one of which you accused me of screwing. I would never live it down if they saw you with me.”

”So please,” you continued, pressing the phone on his chest this time. “Take the phone, put your number in, and your house address, please.”

Yeosang snatched your phone rather rudely, glaring at you scathingly before doing as he was told anyway. You internally rolled your eyes at how ridiculous this all was. But at the same time, you were trying not to explode. Despite the circumstance, you couldn’t believe you were getting your crush’s phone number.

“If you show up randomly at my house one day, I will end you,“ he snarled menacingly, tossing your phone callously for you to catch in the air. “I mean it, you better not.”

“You’re not all that,” you scoffed, annoyed that he would just throw your phone like that. “I might turn into an asshole like you if I absorb all the bad juju you seem to be getting from somewhere.”

You didn’t mean to say it like that, and truth be told, you weren’t one to fight fire with fire - stone with boulder. But the things he’s been saying has been setting you off on your rocker, a taste of it wouldn’t hurt him.

Right?

“I wouldn’t say that just yet,” he sneered. “Famous last words, princess. Nobody knows what the future holds, do they?”

You rolled your eyes dramatically at him, opting not to question him when he led you out of the classroom, opening the door for you to go through. “Anyway, we do this my way, or I’m dropping you,” he mustered up, adjusting his mask a bit as we walked.

“I don’t care, honestly, I just want to pass,” you truthfully said. You heard him sigh irritatingly under his breath.”How do you propose we do this, then?”

“Do you have more classes today?” Yeosang asked, brows furrowed from above that mask. You shook your head in denial. He nodded in acknowledgement. “Great. Let’s head to that cafe near here. The sooner we get this over with, the better.”

He began walking faster. You could barely keep up with him, Yeosang was of average height, however, his legs were long, you noticed, while yours were a poor excuse for a pair. 

“Wow,” you whistled. “I’m not even going to question why you hate me this much, but okay.”

He laughed, the baritone timbre of his voice enhancing the quality of that beautiful sound. “I don’t hate you. Hate is quite the word,” he scoffed. “It’s strong. You don’t matter enough to me for me to spend strong emotions on.”

Your steps faltered a bit. It felt like a physical blow to your chest and tendrils started to wrap around your heart, squeezing it bit by bit until it was fully constricting against your ribcage. What he said stung more than you’d like to admit.

You couldn’t concentrate when you got in the cafe and sat down. You realized that it was the same cafe you had brunch in with Jongho and Yunho. What he said was all you could think about was all you could think about, were you really that bad? 

Yeosang sat in front of you, tinkering on his phone and not paying attention to you for the time being. Not that you wanted him to, anyway, because if he did, he’d see the tears that were starting to form in your eyes.

Yeosang stood up, pocketing his phone, and walked away without even telling you, even out of courtesy and respect, and without looking in your direction. Another blow hit your chest then and there.

You took that opportunity to wipe your tears away, lifting your arm so you could use your sleeves to do so. There was no finesse in it, but you didn’t care. You felt ridiculous, but you felt bad for yourself.

Your head sprung up when something was suddenly placed on the table within your line of vision. Your brows shot up ever so slightly when you registered that it was a cup of hot, steaming, delicious chocolate. Your head snapped towards Yeosang, who just tilted his head at you.

“No ‘thank you’? Damn,” he said sarcastically, pulling on his chair and taking his place back in front of you. He leans forward, his eyes piercing straight onto yours. “Drink. I don’t want people thinking I’m abusing you or something, I’m already stigmatized as is.”

”What in the hell are you talking about?” You blurted out, tentatively reaching out, wrapping your hands around the mug. Warmth immediately spreads through them, seeping deep inside you and reaching the deepest creases of your heart. “T-thank you.”

You went rigid, your muscles tightening against your body, when Yeosang’s finger wipes a lone tear on the side of your right eye. When he pulled away, you immediately started to sip on your chocolate, cursing internally when it started to burn on your tongue, but you didn’t relent. It was a sign that you were truly alive and not dreaming at all.

”Good?” Yeosang raised his brow tentatively.

You nodded a little more enthusiastically than you’d expect yourself to do so. “What about you? I-I can get you one, if you’d like.”

“If I really wanted one, I would’ve gotten one, myself,” he scoffed. This time, you ignored how rude he was, but only for today. He lazily pointed at his face. “Plus, I have this stupid mask.”

You bit your lip, pausing before continuing. “Just take it off.”

Your heart started to pound uncontrollably at that aspect You were already infatuated with this brute with that thing on, what more if he actually took it off?

”Don’t push it, princess,” he snorted, a hint of amusement tinged in his voice. You watched as he took out his laptop from his sling bag, setting it down the table before he looked at you once more. “Shall we start?”

You and Yeosang quickly learned a routine that worked for both of your schedules. You you had to up your meetings from once a week to four times a week just so everything was perfect. You both wanted that exception next semester.

Unfortunately for you, your crush with Yeosang worsened the more time you spent with him. He was everything you liked in somebody, and as rude as his attitude and insensitive his mouth was, you could tell that deep down, you knew that he wasn’t a bad person.

And of course, you still don’t know what he looked like; not entirely, anyway. He never slipped and took it off, not once. Whenever he’d drink something, all he had to do was slip the straw from underneath the mask and drink away, or when he ate, he would lift the mask a bit underneath as well.

It bummed you out, but you respected his choice. Besides, it’s just, well, a face. It wasn’t a deal breaker or anything. Call it an added bonus to the enigma that was Kang Yeosang.

You yelped when something hit the top of your head. Your hands immediately found their place on your scalp, frowning and giving Yeosang a small glare for having the audacity to hit you.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped, setting down the book he used to bonk your head on his lap before he crossed his arms and glared at you. “Were you even paying attention to what I was saying?”

”O-Of course I was,” you said without thinking.

“Oh? What did I say, then?”

”That I’m the bestest partner ever and that you were going to treat me for some ice cream after this?” You peered at him, exaggerating your actions because you knew that would agitate him.

“Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought,” he sneered, moving to grab the book again but stopping midway to take a breathe to prevent himself from potentially committing a crime.

You giggled, covering your mouth with your palms to stop the loud snorts that made you look unlady-like. “Did I hear that right? Goody two-shoes, Kang Yeosang, cursing like a sailor?”

“Yes, because you are the most irritating person I’ve had the displeasure of ever meeting,” he declared dryly. “What are you going to fucking do about it?”

This time, you didn’t even bother to cover your mouth at all and just let loose. Your laugh made your belly hurt, but it made your heart soar. You forgot the last time you just laughed and didn’t care.

”Keep it down, you’re attracting unwanted attention,” he hissed, but it didn’t have that usual intensity in it, as he looked around cautiously before he stared down the floor like he always did.

The both of you were in the campus cafeteria. You weren’t in the mood to go back to that cafe, and Yeosang wasn’t feeling it either, so the cafeteria was the only option left to go.

You weren’t privy to all the stares that were being sent in your direction, not entirely oblivious of what they’re all thinking. But mostly, they were wondering what was funny, especially because it was Yeosang with you.

”Hey,” you softly called out. He didn't meet your eye, but he nodded slightly to signify that he was listening to you. 

You tapped on his hand with your finger once before pulling away. That got his attention and he finally looked at you. “Don’t mind them, they’re idiots,” you reassured. “I think you’re really cool.”

He smirked, tilting his head in curiosity. “You don’t know squat about me, that’s some high-praise for someone who’s practically a stranger to you, little princess.”

Little princess. You swallowed the blush that threatened to warm your cheeks. “I already know what I need the most,” you shrugged, sincerity coating your voice. “You’re literally the smartest person I know, seriously, how do you do it? And I like your mentality, fuck all these people, you know?”

He stayed silent. Usually, you’d hear an insult or two from him by now, but all he did was stare at you intently, his eyes getting shrouded by an emotion you couldn’t exactly pinpoint. It wasn’t malice, and it definitely wasn’t acknowledgement, but you found that you didn’t mind this look on Yeosang. He looked freer this way.

“You remind me of someone,” he suddenly spoke up. Your curiosity peaked with how far away he suddenly looked. “He was the only one who was more annoying than you, and that’s saying a lot, if you could believe it.”

He sounded so nostalgic, and you were savouring this. If he wasn’t being an asshole, he’d have a point most of the time, because he was right, you knew virtually nothing about him. It wasn’t always where Yeosang would divulge in his personal life with you or in general.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you remarked, making him roll his eyes so far back in his head, you were surprised they didn’t get stuck in there. “Anyway, is he your friend?”

“The bestest,”  he immediately answered, sighing afterwads. You pursed your lips,  you knew that he didn’t mean to do so.

You hesitated for a bit in fear of saying something you knew he wouldn’t like. Yeosang was what you would describe as a ticking time-bomb - you just never knew what would set him off. “Did something happen between you and him?”

He seemed to realize that he was oversharing. Much to your dismay, his eyes immediately hardened, his eyes brewing a storm that permanently seemed to cause his mind turbulence.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat, changing the topic like a tidal wave that knew no consistency. It matched that of his personality so well. “I don’t have any classes for the next few days. I got exempted from all of them.”

You scoffed in awe and disbelief before you could stop yourself. It certainly earned you a nasty glare from him. Of course, you thought. This man was literally a genius. Something tells you that boredom is the biggest reason why he hasn’t gotten himself exempted from the rest of his classes.

“What are you trying to tell me? Are you perhaps,” you smirked as nasty as he was glaring at you. “Are you perhaps telling me that you’re going to miss me?”

You were kidding - well, mostly, anyway. As expected, he growled and pushed your shoulder roughly in an attempt to wake you up from your delusional thoughts.

”I’ll miss my peace of mind, that’s what,” he rolled his eyes. “Can you be for damn real for once in your miserable life? I really want to get this stupid project done.”

For some reason, that response brought you relief more than the usual sting you’d feel in your chest. You’ve spent enough time with Yeosang to know that he didn’t mean what he said eight out of ten times. The bar was that low. But the truth was, you knew you’d malfunction if he said that he would miss you.

“Do you still have the address that I gave you?” Yeosang questioned gruffly. He was in the process of putting away all his class notes in that stylish sling bag he always had on him. 

You nodded. “I do. But wait, where are you going?”

He raised a brow. “You’re not my keeper,” he clicked his tongue, standing up and adjusting the bag on his shoulder across his chest. “I’m going home, if you must know. I need to meditate and ask the Lord for some patience for when you go to my house this week.”

You blinked, eyes widened owlishly, repeating the action over and over again just so you were sure you heard him right. Yeah, you were definitely malfunctioning as is.

”I’ll text you the details,” he turned around and began to walk away, leaving you to your seat alone - nobody wanted to sit with you and Yeosang - for your thoughts to wander and go haywire.

Sputtering, you stood up and called to him, ignoring the odd looks you received from the students around. “A-Are you sure?“

He paused from walking, not bothering to turn around. He raised his hand and waved from behind. “Bye, Y/N.”

You were dazed the entire day, not being able to concentrate on the rest of your class, your heart doing somersaults in your chest that felt too giddy for you to relax. Excitement rolled off of you in waves and all you could do was imagine what Yeosang would be like in the comfort of his own house.

But the first thing you thought of was his face. Would he remove the mask? Surely, it gets stuffy and musty wearing it the entire day, and plus, you knew how uncomfortable it could get the longer you wore it, not to mention how it could clog your skin.

Of course, the thought did cross your mind once or twice - was he wearing it because he has something to hide? You always mentally slapped yourself whenever this would cross your mind, everybody was judgmental to a certain extent, but you tried your damned hardest to not consciously do it and make an effort to always remind yourself that it isn’t good to judge people because they all have their own stories.

However, the longer you thought of this, you knew for a fact that you wouldn’t care what was under that mask. Over the month and a couple of weeks, you have come to truly enjoy Yeosang’s company a lot, regardless if he felt the same or not.

You received the awaited text the following night. A laugh bubbled up from your chest when you opened the message like a child opening up presents during Christmas. You found it adorable that his personality also seeped in through his texts. 

‘Tomorrow. Three in the afternoon. Bring your laptop, but no food since I will provide it. Be on your best behaviour, I have a dog I will not hesitate to sic on you.’

“Wow,” Yunho whistled the next day, tossing the phone back at you after reading the text message with a small chuckle. “What a douchebag.”

You replied with a dry chuckle of your own, lifting a dress you snatched from your dresser, hanger still attached and all, and laid it across the bed, beside the area where Yunho was currently sitting down. He stared at the black dress with a scoff.

”Girl, this is a study session, not a funeral,” he chortled. “Then again, if he actually has a dog, it might as well be.”

A shiver passed through you, but you gave him a stern look, anyway. “Quiet, you,” you hissed. “I don’t fucking know what to wear, I don’t want to look like a bum, but I don’t want to try too hard, either!”

“Are you trying to do that project, stupid, by the way, or are you trying to get laid?” Jongho blurted out bluntly from across Yunho, lifting the dress and inspecting it. “If you’re going for the latter, this isn’t the way to go.”

You blushed furiously, slapping your cheeks to conceal the fact, but it was already too late. You loved these two to death, but sometimes, you were just ready to not be roommates with them anymore when they both made fun of you.

“Choi Jongho, I will end you,” you seethed.

He raised his hands defensively in surrender. “Relax, tiger. Just go for a white shirt and some jeans, it’s comfortable and effective. I can tell you right now, he literally wouldn’t give a shit.”

He made it a point to raid your closet himself. “In fact,” he continued, yelping a bit when he suddenly lifted your bra and tossed it like it was bacterial. “He definitely won’t notice, trust me.”

You were mortified, but so was Yunho when said bra landed on his lap. He shrugged it off like it, too, was infectious. “Goddamn it, Y/N, clean your fucking closet,” he groaned. “But I agree. He has that thing literally on his face 24/7, I highly doubt he’ll notice anything else.”

“Here. I got this for you on your birthday, it’s high time you wear it now,” Jongho haphazardly tossed some clothes directly on your face callously. “Hurry up, it’s almost three. He won’t let you in if you’re late.”

”That’s comforting,” you remarked sarcastically. 

Luckily, in your apartment, there was a walk-in closet - perks of living with an affluent roommate like Jongho - and so, you walked in there to change in your own privacy, but you didn’t shut the door so you could still talk to the both of them as you changed. 

You noticed that Jongho had, indeed, given you a simple white shirt and some jeans, but he also handed you the hoodie he had given you. With that, you began to undress and change.

”How’s your project coming along, Yun?” You asked to fill in the silence.

”Good, actually. Mingi is really good at these things,” Yunho answered cheerfully. “We’ve decided to just do a short dance number, he’ll do a remix and I’ll choreograph for us.”

“Mingi dances?” Jongho asked in surprise. 

“Oh, I didn’t tell you guys? Mingi and I used to go to the same dance school before he moved away during high school,” he explained. “This isn’t the first time we’ve worked together, so it helps, you know?”

You were happy for Yunho, and if you were honest, even though Yeosang and you haven’t decided on what to do yet, you were pretty content in being his partner. You paused, however, a line of thought suddenly crossed your mind.

“Hey, Jjong?”

“Here,” the latter answered.

You bit your bottom lip, not really sure how to articulate the thoughts plaguing your mind into coherent words. “Do you have any idea if Yeosang is also inclined in the arts?”

The arts, meaning dancing and singing. There was a fat pause on the other side of the room. You heard Jongho sigh, the springs of your bed sinking down as he sat on it. “Yeah, he is,” he confirmed. “You’re going to find out the rest by yourself, I’m not willing to divulge the rest.”

“No, that’s all I wanted to know. He literally wouldn’t touch me with a ten-feet poll, let alone tell me the juicy details of his life,” you snorted. “Hell, I don’t even know what the guy looks like.”

Yunho made a sound, likely thinking the same thing as you were at the same time as you heard movement on the bed once more. And he asked the same question you had in your head, “Do you know what he looks like?” 

“Of course, I do,” Jongho said incredulously as if he was offended that he was even asked in the first place, until he realized the reason. “Well—“

”Wait,” you interrupted abruptly. “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know, I will not disrespect his privacy unless he tells me himself.”

You were tempted, who wouldn’t be? Your big, beaming crush on the guy, alone, was enough for you to be curious to know what’s underneath, but it just felt wrong. 

They both laughed out loud the moment you opened the door to go back in the room. “Damn, you’re down bad,” Yunho slapped his thighs in amusement as he laughed even more. 

“Haha,” your voice dripped with sarcasm. You went past them to grab your things and headed towards the door. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Ew, I don’t want to know if you guys end up fucking or something,” Jongho gagged exaggeratingly, making Yunho laugh even harder, his entire body contorting with how hard he was laughing.

When you started driving, your brows shot up in mild surprise when you realized that Yeosang’s place was a lot closer than you thought it was. In fact, if you jacked on the gas, you could get there within ten minutes. 

Your hands gripped on the wheel the more your mind worked on itself - there was a huge possibility that you and Yeosang crossed each other’s path at one point and you just never knew. Heat pools in your tummy, he could have been one of the people you encountered everyday and you would be none the wiser because of the mask.

You arrived in no time, and you parked in an even lesser time. An impressive whistle slipped past your lips, this meant that you were on the better side of the city with how easy the accommodation was. When you looked around, every single building looked more modern and sleeker, too.

And you were right. Your mouth hung open ever so slightly when you realized that you were in the affluent area of the city. By all means, you were fortunate to grow up comfortably, but you could still never afford to live in one of the units where Yeosang apparently resided. What’s more, is that he said he lived alone.

You quickly sent a text to him that you were here and put your phone back in your pockets after that quick text. Shame crept in your bones when you looked at your outfit. Had you known that this was where you’d end up going, you would have worn that black dress because as drab as it was, it was elegant enough to fit the opulent vibe of the place. Soon enough, your phone vibrated.

‘Walk in and go straight to the receptionist. Give them my name and press ‘50’ when she leads you to the elevators. It’ll take you directly inside my unit. Don’t forget to take your filthy shoes off.'

You ignored the last statement, your jaw slacking further when you read the message over and over again. Who the hell does that? Geez, you thought incredulously, who the hell has a unit literally connected to the elevators?

But you followed his instructions, anyway. And in no time, the receptionist was leading towards said elevators. She gave you a kind smile as the doors opened and you bowed back politely. The moment you pressed the number, you leaned your back against the walls of the metal box.

It was the last floor on the very top, it made sense that it led directly in his unit. That also meant he had the penthouse. You felt your body ascend slowly, and the best thing you could do was fix your clothes and your hair to make yourself a bit more presentable.

You started to imagine what Yeosang’s space would look like, but more so, you were just curious on what a penthouse would look like since you’ve never been to one before. You scoffed under your breath, Yeosang did seem the type to live in penthouses.

You weren’t expecting anything in general, but however, the last thing you expected was a small presence waiting for you the moment the elevator dinged and the doors parted. 

There it was, with its head tilted, looking at you curiously as you cautiously stepped in Yeosang’s space. This must be the dog, but it wasn’t just a dog. 

You gulped, knees threatening to buckle under your weight, when the dog started to walk forward and sniff your feet, your legs, back to your feet. It definitely intimidated you as you tried to stay absolutely still. 

Yeosang conveniently forgot to tell you that he had a Great Dane. It was so big that if it stood on two paws, it would tower over you.

But all those worries faded away when it yelped a happy yelp and laid down on its back. Her, you found out soon enough, tail wagged back and forth in glee and excitement as her eyes looked up at you, pleading for you to lean down and give her the belly rubs she so wanted.

Who were you to say no to that? 

“Who’s the good girl?! You are, yes, you are,” you giggled incessantly, your hand rubbing on her sweet tummy while your other hand found its way behind her ear. Her happy barks reached your ears and it prompted you to rub faster.

You completely sat down on the floor and patted your thighs. ”Aww, c’mere, you sweet pup, come…”

Your landlord has strict rules against pets, which was such a shame because Jongho wouldn’t have to leave his Persian to his parents and Yunho wouldn’t be going out every so often to spend time with his Golden Retriever at his brother’s place.

”I see you met Nabi.”

You jumped out, startled at the deep, muffled voice that intruded your well-needed little pup therapy. It also startled the dog, whose head rested on your lap, and you couldn't help but feel bad. You were about to give Yeosang a piece of your mind, but when you turned around, you wanted to whine just like her, maybe a bit worse.

He still wore that mask, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. Yeosang leaned casually against the wall behind you, his hair was completely unstyled, a stark contrast to the prim and proper hair he sported on campus. 

But what really got you was his even more casual outfit, it was dangerous. He wore a body-fitting tank top, and you tried not to drool at his exposed arms and the way they absolutely flexed whenever he moved even a single inch. Your eyes traced the veins that were deliciously spread all throughout his hands all the way to his forearms.

And by God, the way his sweatpants hung alarmingly low against his hip bones. And then, his brow slowly lifted, his eyes shining in mischief. It was your cue to look away in shame, because you knew that he knew.

You didn’t say anything when he leaned down, lifting the mid-ends of his pants as he squatted down. He looked you in the eye as his hands slowly started to rub the back of Nabi’s other ear.

”That’s a good girl,” he whispered.

You didn’t even know what to say, you can’t just assume that he was doing what you thought he was actually doing. You stayed silent, not breaking eye contact with him until he stood back up and walked inside. 

“Go sit on the couch so you can settle down. You can leave your things on the coffee table,” he murmured, Nabi hot on his tail as he walked away.

If it wasn’t even more possible, your jaw dropped when you finally took in the interior of the penthouse. It was the epitome of opulence and luxury. The theme was the classic marbled black-and-white overalls, the space was neat, and if it wasn’t for the crystal chandelier hanging from above you, you would have spent more time just looking around. Not to mention, the grand staircase towards the corner that leads to the second floor. 

Yeosang stood by the kitchenette, tinkering at whatever. It was state-of-the-art, but what really made you fall in love was the huge glass window behind him that overlooked the entire city. You bet it would look stunning during nighttime.

Despite your awe, you couldn’t help but blurt out, ”Who are you?”

”Uh, Kang Yeosang,” he replied absentmindedly. Your lips quivered in an effort to not chuckle, “Anything to drink?”

“Just water,” you replied.

He scoffed, crossing his arms. “I should have specified for you to also bring your brain when you come. You didn’t come all the way here for just water.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes in offense. “Coffee, then?”

You expected him to say ‘no’ and tell you to, frankly, to fuck off and be serious, but your heart thumped in your chest when he immediately went to work without saying anything.

You watched him move as he grabbed a cup and set it down. It made sense now, he’s always had this elegance to him when he moved and talked, even though he was rude most of the time, and he had this air of grandeur to him that you couldn’t explain.

Your heart was close to flatlining when he wordlessly gave you the freshly made cup of coffee, and it tasted exactly like the one you always order at the cafe you and him always meet up for the project. 

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He hummed in response, setting himself down on the couch across you and relaxing into it. You took great effort to ignore his arms once more. “I think I have an idea on what to do for the project,” he said, directly to the point. “If you’re okay with it.”

You breath hitched, He’s never wanted your approval before. You stared at him expectantly and waited for him to continue. “Don’t make fun of me,” he blurted out. The way he wrung his hands together gave out his nervousness. “Maybe we could just sing a song together.”

You almost dropped the cup on the table that probably cost more than your life. You were expecting a lot of things, but you weren’t expecting that. But then again, Jongho did say Yeosang was inclined in the arts.

“Why would I make fun of that?” You asked truthfully with genuine confusion. “That sounds like a lovely idea. I was in choir until middle school, it’s good on my end.”

Yeosang didn’t say anything. He stared at you deeply, intently. His eyes held something you’ve never seen before - vulnerability. You gave him a soft, reassuring smile, one you knew he wouldn’t reciprocate, but you did it, anyway.

But he did. Even though you couldn’t see his lips, his eyes squinted at the gesture. Just about when your heart was about to give out, you just had to find out that Yeosang’s eyes smiled with him.

“Can I tell you something?” Yeosang asked, softness coating his voice, his body visibly relaxing even more from where he sat. 

“You can tell me anything,” you chirped up. “What friends are for, right?”

His eyes drooped, hooding ever so slightly before he shook his head, a deep chuckle escaping from his lips. You bit your lip to stop yourself from screaming, you believed this was the first time that he actually produced such a sound without being sarcastic or pretentious.

“You are definitely something, Y/N,” he whispered, more to himself, but you heard it. “Anyway, I know how to sing. Uhm, I was training to be an idol. I did it for years before stopping entirely.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, heat coursing through your veins at the newfound information that you also realized that Yeosang divulged by his own accord. You cleared your throat to cover the blush that spread through your cheeks and ears. You would literally kill anyone and anything to be able to witness Yeosang as an idol.

”Was? Is there a reason why you stopped?” You asked softly, trying to be as respectful as you possibly can so you wouldn’t turn him off. The last thing you wanted was to make him feel like you were trying to intrude.

He paused, sighing deeply and exhaling slowly as he closed his eyes and leaned his back down the couch, almost slouching. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbled.

“Okay,” you conceded, nodding towards him.

He opened one eye, staring at you from his peripheral vision. You tried to ignore how long his lashes were even from where you were. “Just like that? You’re not going to ask me why?”

You were taken aback, beyond confused at what he was insinuating. Your heart bled for this man, just what has he gone through?

”Uhm, no, why should I? It’s disrespectful,” you supplied truthfully. “You’re not obligated to tell me, or anyone in general, anything. You don’t owe me, but I’ll lend you an ear whenever you are ready.”

He stared at you with clouded eyes. The thing with Yeosang that you liked was that he wasn’t a liar - what you see with him is what you get - but this time, you couldn’t decipher what lay beneath those enthralling eyes. The closest would be soul-searching but you’d have to be a fool to actually believe that. 

The longer he stared, the more it morphed, transforming into something you finally understood. They were full of hope, those bright eyes shining and reflecting your faltering gaze. Yeosang was the hope that whispered of the sun. 

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing vertically at the motion. “Would you like to start over with me?” Yeosang scoots closer and juts his hand out for you to take. “Hi, I’m Kang Yeosang.”

You tilted your head, smiling through your teeth as you took his hand, squeezing it lightly as you shook it. “L/N Y/N.”

Things were never truly the same after that. Yeosang’s mouth, as kissable as it looked, was still brutish and blunt, and you were still that blubbering mess around him whenever he’d get a bit too close for comfort, but everything has changed.

You’d keep coming back to his place and Yeosang would always invite you under the pretense of practicing for the performance, but the two of you always ended up doing something else, instead; something more fun.

There was nothing set in stone, the other day, he showed you his drone collection and even let you fly one of them since you mentioned offhandedly that you’ve never tried to before.

Needless to say, you had no talent for this. You had a heavy hand with no coordination.

”Hey, hey, if you break that, I’ll break you,” he hissed when you accidentally manoeuvered the flying robot by mistake and almost crashed it onto the nearby concrete wall.

”I-I’m sorry,” you blurted out, trying hard to set it down before you damaged it. You knew it cost a pretty penny. The both of you were currently on his balcony, fifty stories high. One wrong move could make it crash all the way down.

He sighed exasperatedly, gesturing for you to come closer. “Come here, I’ll help you.”

You were expecting him to just take the remote control away from you, but you were rendered speechless when he pulled your arm and guided you in front of him. He positioned himself comfortably behind you, his hand grabbing onto yours as he did, indeed, help you with the drone.

”The trick is to be gentle with this button,” he murmured, breath tickling the shell of your ear, his fingers guiding yours on said button.

You were surprised you didn’t disintegrate on the spot. What could have, however, was when you tried to teach Yeosang how to cook the next time. 

You didn’t start out being a good cook, but living with Jongho and Yunho taught you over the years. Yunho could burn water and Jongho always spent an exorbitant amount of money on take-outs that didn’t even offer an ounce of health in them.

“You’re literally doing well,” you cheered him on as he tried to toss the ingredients for the pasta dish you were guiding him to make for lunch. “It’s easy, isn’t it?”

”Sure,” he sneered, startling himself when the oil in the pan began to crackle. “If you’re trying to get food poisoning, it is.”

”Stop setting yourself up for failure,” you rolled your eyes. You nudged a bottle towards him, sliding it against the counter for him to take. “Here, wine. Take it.”

You snorted at the wild and confused look on his face as he tried to sauté some shrimp. “I don’t drink,” he sputtered out.

It was moments like these that prevent you from regretting how bad you two started from before. If you knew you’d always end up here, you would do it all over again without any hesitation. You laughed, grabbing onto his shoulders for support. That was another thing, skinship wasn’t lost on the both of you now.

”No, dummy,” you laughed. “It’s for the pasta. Pour a little to deglaze the pan, it’s good for flavour.”

He still looked confused, but ,nonetheless, still grabbed the bottle. It shouldn’t be difficult, right?

“W-Wait, Yeosang, do it slowly, wait—-“

But it was too late. He had managed to pour half of its content straight onto the pan, causing blue fire to rise up and almost hit both of you in the face. 

“The fuck was that? Was that normal?” Yeosang hissed, tentatively stepping back from the flames.

”Well, no, you were supposed to do it slowly—-”

”Then why didn’t you say that in the first place?”

”Because it was common sense!”

It became a routine, minus the drones - you were definitely going to break them one way or another. It was so easy to fall for this man, but it was also so easy to get your heart broken by the same man.

He even lets you take Nabi out for a walk when he’d get too tired to do so. You took that task proudly and quite seriously.

”Wouldn’t want your dad laying it out on me now,” you’d giggle while giving Nabi the ear rubs you knew she loved.

You get it, though. Nabi was one energetic pup, and on one particular day where she wore you out, you didn’t realize that you’d fallen asleep on the couch, not that Yeosang minded. You knew that he didn’t mind.

Your eyes started to flutter awake, still dazed from that afternoon nap that you took, but then you realized what actually woke you up.

Everything came to you bit by bit. They say that the first thing to come and leave both in life and death was the sense of touch. It was soft, you noticed. And warm. You were laying on soft, pillowy thighs. Dazed as you were, you weren’t an all-rounder idiot; you knew it was Yeosang’s. You smile to yourself, you knew you didn’t fall asleep on his lap earlier.

But you were completely done for when you felt a hand, fingers to be specific, run slowly through your hair over and over again. You wanted to groan in contentment, no wonder Nabi likes rubs.

What truly woke you up, however, was his voice. Shivers traveled your arms all the way to your neck, you didn’t even need to strain your ears; Yeosang was singing. It was the song you’d both decided to perform, but you’d actually never heard him try and sing it before. 

It waa supposed to be a jolly tune, something awe-inspiring, but when it came from him, it sounded almost melancholic akin to a lullaby meant to reminisce rather than fill your heart with merry and joy.

He stopped, so did his fingers. “I know you’re awake,” he mumbled.

You pouted, wanting to hear more. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” you rose up from his lap, your body protesting from the lack of his warmth, voice hoarse from the prolonged unuse. “How long have I been sleeping on your lap?”

He stared at you like he always did, and you wanted to know why because its intensity was strong, but it was impossible to know without asking, because in truth, you were scared to find out.

“You should just stay for the night,” he mumbled, sitting straight up, his form rigid. “I have a guest room upstairs, and frankly, I feel uncomfortable letting you drive out this late.”

Looking around, it wasn’t difficult to deduce that it was well late into the night even though your mind wasn’t all there yet. You gulped, the offer was too tempting to not consider, but you had to go. You just knew that you weren’t going to sleep properly if you stayed.

Yeosang sighed deeply, standing up straight to face you. “Let me walk you to your car, then.”

You blushed in embarrassment. He must’ve seen the hesitation on your face. “O-Oh, there’s really no need—-”

”Let me walk you to your car, at least,” he repeated, one brow arched, his voice firmer and more resolute. It left you no room for any arguments. “Here.”

A startled ‘oof’ leaves your lips when the hoodie that he threw at you hits you square in the face. He rolled his eyes dramatically when you stared at it as if it were an abomination. He snatched it back harshly.

”God, it’s like taking care of a fucking child with you. Raise your arms,” he clicked his tongue, putting his hoodie on for you, looping your arms carefully in. 

If asking to stay the night wasn’t intimate enough for you, this definitely was. When he was done, he held your hand and started guiding you outside. It would have been funny, since it looked like a parent leading their unruly child, if you didn’t feel like you were going to combust on the spot.

It felt like you were on autopilot. Even when you sat in your car, your muscles felt so rigid and robotic. When he leaned down from the outside, his head peeking at you by the window, his toned arms hanging and leaning on the roof. “Drive safe, yeah?”

”W-what about this?”

You bunched up the hoodie in an attempt to take it off, but he stopped you. “Return it next time,” he mumbled.

You nodded, and he returned it with a curt one, patting the roof of your car before he turned around and jogged back inside. You felt slightly bad, he did give you his hoodie, after all, and he only had a tank top on.

You were completely out of it when you drove home, to the point that you reached your apartment without even realizing it. A silent scream threatens to escape your mouth as you bumped your forehead on the steering wheel, there was a faint blush on your cheeks at everything that happened.

You slept on your crush’s lap, and you even got to wear his hoodie. 

You carefully closed your bedroom door so as not to disturb Jongho and Yunho, who you knew were both sleeping since it was late, and as if it was timed, your phone vibrated in your pockets. You didn’t need to look at the ID to know who it was.

“Did you get home safely?” Yeosang’s comforting voice floods your ears, effectively soothing you and making you smile.

“Mhhm,” you hummed exhaustedly, taking your pants off, but not the hoodie, and plopping down unceremoniously on your bed. “You’re worried about me, the world must be ending soon.”

He mumbled a curse so crass, it made you giggle under your breath. “If you die on the way back, who would be my source of entertainment?” Yeosang deadpanned. A shuffling sound on his end tells you that he’s also laying down on his bed. “I’ll be bored.”

“Wow. Good to know I’m nothing but your source of fun,” you scoffed.

“What can I say? Your misery feeds my fun,” he flatly said. There was a pause on the line before a small sigh sounded. “Princess?”

That nickname will always make your heart sing no matter how much time passes. You hummed in response. “Hmm?”

“Would you like to come over again tomorrow? Forget about the project for a while, I just want to watch a movie with you,” he murmured.

Your heart warmed, you’ve never heard him sound like this before. You’ve made up your mind before he even finished talking. “Only if you let me choose the movie,” you grinned.

”Deal,” he laughed. “I’ll pick you up in the afternoon, sounds good?”

“Sounds good,” you affirmed, kicking your feet up in the air repeatedly. You reckon you resembled a flopping fish out of water right now, but you could care less. You had to bite onto your fist to stop yourself from screaming at the top of your lungs.

He said goodnight and was about to hang up, when you stopped him. “Yeosang.”

He hummed, clearly off guard at the sound of his name. “You have a beautiful voice,” you whispered, referring to his singing when you woke up from your nap. “You would have been a fantastic idol.”

He chuckled. “Good night, princess.”

You hugged your phone close to your chest, a grin stretching out from your lips so wide, your mouth was starting to ache a bit, but the high and ecstasy wasn’t going to go down easily. 

Tonight, sleep came easily to you. Yeosang’s hoodie comforted you, wrapped you in the solace you didn’t know you were missing. His scent gave you the calm that you didn’t mind getting off of.

And tomorrow couldn’t have come any faster. You didn’t tell Jongho and Yunho what you were going to do - the teasing would only get worse from then on - but they did give you odd looks here and there.

“Nice hoodie,” Jongho commented out of the blue while you were waiting for Yeosang. He squints his eyes. “It looks familiar, though. Where’d you buy it?”

“I didn’t buy it,” you replied cryptically, earning you a side-glance from Yunho this time.

He was about to say something when you heard a car engine pull up directly in front  of your apartment. The three of you lived on the first floor, so that perk was there. You jumped up excitedly, hastily picking up your purse before dashing out.

”I’ll see you guys later—-” you tried to say before you got pulled back, a hand tugging your arm backwards.

”Hold the hell on, you have a date?” Yunho blurted out, a flabbergasted look on his face present. “Why am I finding this out just now?”

He gives Jongho a look, and the latter’s eyes narrow even further. Jongho’s brow raises before he stalks towards the door. “Let me size up this fucker,” he sneers, cracking his knuckles loudly.

You wiggled your arm free from Yunho to pull Jongho away from the door so you could get out. Your best friends were protective like that. 

“Get back here,” Jongho called out, opening the door wide so he could chase you down. “You can’t just—-wait.”

You were confused, Jongho’s intimidating aura slowly slips out and gives way to confusion all the way to realization. He blanched, face slightly pale as he stared at the car parked just a couple of metres away from where we stood. 

The car window was already open, and Yeosang was already staring at Jongho. He nods once before closing it once again.

“I should have known,” he mumbled, voice dejected before giving you a tight smile. “Call when you need anything.”

He quickly went inside, followed by Yunho who whispered to you the same thing. “Have fun,” he waved before he closed the door.

Yeosang didn't say anything as you both drove away. It wasn’t an awkward type of silence, but you didn’t have the need to fill it. You wanted to give him some space, the way he gripped the steering wheel repeatedly told you everything you needed to know.

Instead, you spent the entire time chastising yourself because your eyes kept traveling at his hands and his face from your peripheral vision. You chose to look out the window, his veiny arms were distracting you a little too much.

He still had the mask on his face but honestly, you didn’t care less anymore. You couldn’t help but also stare at the way he was dressed. He was in casual wear, nothing special, but the way it emphasized his toned chest yet tiny waist got you sweating even though it was quite cool inside the luxurious car he was driving.

“There’s a drive through nearby. I want to get coffee,” he finally spoke. The softness in his voice made your heart pound, it boosted the already intimate setting of being in a car with him.

”Are you going to let me pay for us?” You asked rhetorically.

”Of course,” he shrugged, and you were about to celebrate until he continued. “Of course not.”

You rolled your eyes, an exasperated groan of frustration leaving your lips. The sound makes Yeosang laugh out loud, and he was still laughing even when the drive through speaker crackled on. Cute. 

This was dangerous. You stared at him as he spoke, his deep voice rumbling. It wasn’t fair that his side profile looked this ethereal, but it also wasn’t fair that your heart was slowly giving in to its demands little by little. He didn’t even need to ask what you wanted, he just knew what you needed.

 “Thank you,” you murmured in gratitude when he handed you your iced latte. You grit your teeth when your hands brushed with his as you tried to grab the cup.

The same hand lands gently on your thigh. You thought it was just him being him and he was absentmindedly doing it, but when the searing heat from his palms didn’t relinquish any relief, you couldn’t help but smirk to hide the growing tingle in between your thighs.

”Getting comfortable there,” you said, trying very, very hard not to look at his veiny, masculine hands. It turned you on to no end.

”Does it bother you?” Yeosang asked, not bothering to look at you since he was actually driving. You gulped, the sight of him driving with one hand increased the tingling sensation down there.

“No,” you lied. “Not at all.”

He hummed, giving your thigh a soft squeeze before he resorted to just drawing random lines on it. He made a small sound of surprise. “You work out?”

You blinked repeatedly, not really understanding what he was saying at first. “What? O-Oh, I used to do gymnastics in high school,” you revealed. The activity has made your thighs and legs toned even though you haven’t done heavy routines in a while.

”Used to? How come?”

“Had a nasty concussion. Plus, college was keeping me busy, anyway.”

“Ah,” he acknowledged with a small smirk. “I knew you hit your head somewhere along the line—-”

You playfully pushed his hand away from your thigh. “You ass.”

He laughed, his deep voice rumbling through the small space of the car, and knocking into your heart, as he pulled in in the familiar section of his apartment that led to the parking lot. 

The appreciation you had for this man knew no bounds. During the walk back to his penthouse, no words needed to be said. This was how it was with him, and you didn’t mind at all. The silence was already telling enough.

“Do you like the hoodie?” Yeosang asked the moment he closed the door behind him. 

“I do,” you admitted, grinning as you rubbed Nabi’s beautiful fur, your fingers trailing to the spot behind her ears you knew brought her joy. “Hey, girl.”

”I see,” he murmured, passing you, but not before patting Nabi’s head, and walked towards the staircase. “Follow me,” he beckoned you over with a small wave of his hand.

”Where to?” You asked, following him anyway, albeit reluctantly. 

As you climbed the stairs, something you’ve never done before, let alone go near since you didn’t want to just invade Yeosang’s privacy, especially since you knew that his personal bedroom was located on the second floor of the penthouse.

You will never get used to how simply gorgeous his space was. If you thought that the first floor where his living room was located was jaw-dropping, the second floor was something out-of-this-world. You were able to see the grand chandelier even closer in this section of the penthouse.

Multiple paintings you knew weren’t just ordinary art hung around the walls, which were made out of opulent marble, the swirls of black and white giving the space an elegance you knew cannot just be replicated and duplicated just because.

”Wow,” you whispered, not able to stop yourself in awe.

”Like what you see?” Yeosang asked, his hand absentmindedly trailing over the walls as you both still walked on, you just followed him wherever he took you.

It didn’t take long, and once again, you were in for a wild ride. Soon, the overall theme of the second floor had changed from something bright, to something just a bit darker. The swirled marble of the walls gave way to something pure black, and that included all the paintings, vase, and furniture that surrounded the area. 

“Is this your room? Wow,” you remarked like a little kid in a candy store.

”No,” he shook his head, opening the door to one of the rooms. “This is just a spare bedroom, really. Nobody’s ever used it, so I just store all my old stuff in here.”

You frowned at him. “Nobody? Somehow I find that hard to believe.”

You weren’t lying when you said that. You truly found it hard to believe that he has never brought anybody in, whether it be just a couple of close friends, or even a past fling or some hookups. The last sting of thoughts brought on a horrible churning that started deep in your gut area.

”Well, considering that you were the first one I’ve ever willingly brought here, I’d say it’s not really difficult to comprehend,” he shrugged. “My, uhm, father used to own this before he bought another unit. He would use it for his business.”

You stayed silent, following him inside the bedroom, not anymore surprised to find a large theater setup occupying most of the space. This was another instance of him slowly giving you bits and pieces of his life willingly, and you wanted so badly to ask more about what his family business was, but you didn’t. You didn’t miss the way his eyes faltered when he mentioned it.

“You’re telling me you’ve never had, I don’t know,” you bit your lip. “Flings, perhaps?”

”Of course I did,” he raised an offended brow. “I’m not a eunuch, and not to brag, but I’m not that bad looking.”

You blushed. Yeosang’s part down there was the last thing you’d ever want to think about.

“But I’ve never brought them here,” he continued cryptically, his voice not leaving you any thoughts of questioning him, so you decided to let it slide. “Anyway, I’m going to get the snacks downstairs, why don’t you pick a movie?”

You nodded, getting to your feet and caught the remote that he had thrown your way with surprising reflexes. “What movies are you into?”

“I don’t give a shit, really,” he mumbled, walking away to your devices, and for once, you were glad he was walking away. The blush on your cheeks would just never leave. 

You took this opportunity to try and calm yourself as much as you possibly could. Your corrupted brain was pushing this as a possible date between you and Yeosang, and luckily, the sentient part of it kept pushing that thought back, but it was getting more and more difficult to do so. How could you not? You were in the comfort of his home, in one of his rooms, and in a place where he’s never brought anyone before. Or so he says.

You weren't surprised to find a sizable selection for the movies. He had a state-of-the-art setup, you’d be pretty surprised if he didn’t. He told you to pick whatever you liked, but you weren’t the insensitive type, you wanted him to have a say in it, too.

You were about to sit down and just wait for him to come back when your foot had accidentally gotten caught on something when you tried to sit on the bed. You tried to see what it was and your brows lifted in surprise when you realized that you had tripped on a small box.

It was conspicuously tucked away underneath the bed, but the edge of it was slightly jutted out. You didn’t think much of it, you figured that Yeosang had stored other things in here. Maybe there were other movie selections that he’d kept in here.

So when you grabbed the box and opened it, you just simply weren’t expecting what you’d find. You were gravely mistaken, there were no movies in there. You wanted to hit yourself, of course there wouldn’t be, DVDs were a thing of the past!

There was a piece of paper on top of everything. You inspected it carefully, and you realized that there was a name in it. A girl’s name. You frowned, that was the name of the girl who was picked last for the project.

You gasped, dropping the piece of paper in realization. Professor Choi did not accidentally put your name twice in that box.

You rummaged more to see what was in the box. Instead, there were photos - multiple of them. Your eyes weren’t completely taking everything in, but there were a myriad of photographs that ranged from professionally printed ones all the way to the wallet-sized polaroid prints. 

You bit your lip. You really shouldn’t be doing this, you were invading Yeosang’s privacy, and whether he said it or not, you knew that he appreciated that you didn’t pry on the things he wasn’t ready to tell you. 

You wanted badly to know more about Yeosang, but you knew this wasn’t the way to go about it. The box needed to go, and it was about to, but then, you spotted a particular photo that got your attention. You glanced at the door, and with a shaky hand, you took that photo to stare at it closer.

The lump in your throat was making it difficult for you to breathe, you were nervous, but there was no going back from this.  That wasn’t all, however, it was mostly the photo in your hand.

There were two people in the photo you were holding, one of which you’ve never seen before. He was quite handsome, you noted. He had the biggest grin on his face that made him look so young, you could barely see his face, that’s how wide he was smiling. Had the situation been different, you would have been fascinated by how much he resembled a fox.

And then, there was Yeosang. In an unfortunate coincidence, you picked up a photo where he was still covering half of his face, but this time, it wasn’t by a mask, it was his hands. This photo must have been taken mid-laughter by somebody else.

You’ve never seen him this happy before. His eyes were also smiling, but one thing that absolutely got you was that when you looked closer, you were pleasantly surprised to find a small birthmark on the side of his face. You realized that he must’ve been covering it lately with makeup.

When you turned the photo around, there was a name in there. Jung Wooyoung. And there was a note in there too, one that you knew to be Yeosang’s handwriting.

There were only four words written on it - I am so sorry.

You swallowed, clearly, you weren’t supposed to see this. You suddenly remembered Jongho’s words from before - something had happened that made him the way he was now.

Shame crept in from the bottom of your heart, you had to pretend that you didn’t see any of this, you had to put the box back the way you found it and forget that you ever saw that picture. But it was too late.

”What the fuck are you doing?”

You gasped, jumping up from where you were seated down, causing the box to fall from your lap, exposing what you were doing, which was basically snooping in on his privacy against his will and without his permission.

The snacks he was carrying was long forgotten on the floor, for he must’ve dropped it after seeing you look through the photos. 

You were devastated, but he looked even more devastated as he stood from where he was standing, staring at you with the most disappointed eyes. That was the worst part - he didn’t seem angry, not at all. He looked absolutely broken, and it was your fault.

“Y-Yeosang,” you called out, voice wavering as you felt your tears slowly forming in your eyes. “I c-can explain, please—-”

He looked down at the floor, completely avoiding eye contact with you. Only his fists were moving, they were actively shaking. He had a lump in his throat that he gulped in, albeit with difficulty.

”How could you do this to me?” Yeosang questioned, his voice laced with an unmistakable hint of pain and hurt. He lifted his head, and  heart felt like it was getting pulled out of your chest. “How could you?”

You tried walking towards, the photos on the floor long forgotten, but he raised a palm to stop you. “Yeosang,” you called out once more, your desperation seeping out from you.

”I thought you were different,” he chuckled bitterly. He pressed the heel of his palms on his eyes as if he was trying to soothe an oncoming migraine. “But it turns out, you were the worst of them all.”

Your lips quivered, of all the things he had said to you, the things he had insulted you with, this one statement stung the most, mainly because you knew it to be true. You shook your head desperately. “You know it’s not like that,” you cried, ashamed because you didn’t want to lose him, not like this. “I am so, so sorry, Yeosang, please forgive me, I know I was wrong, please.”

“Get the fuck out of my house, Y/N,” he commanded venomously, pointing a shaking finger on the direction away from the room. He exhaled a shaky breath. “I never want to see you again.”

That was when your tears started to fall from your eyes. “Don’t say that,” you sobbed. “P-Please don’t say that—“

”Y/N, you know what hurts the most right now?” Yeosang spat out, running a hand on his hair in frustration. “I could handle the daily insults I hear at campus every single day. That’s fine, I don’t owe anyone an explanation, they can say whatever they want.”

”But you,” he gritted his teeth. “I trusted you, more than I’ve ever come to trust myself,” he took a shaky breath in. “I let you in. The thing that hurts me the most is that I’ve come to care for you. I care about you, Y/N. Do you have any idea how much I want to slap myself right now?”

“You’re right, I am so sorry,” your entire body was shaking, your legs almost threatening to give out. “I’m so sorry, Yeosang, please—-”

“You made me look like an idiot,” he declared. “Get out. Please. I won’t tell you again.”

He turned around to walk away, but your impulses took action by suddenly running forward to give Yeosang a hug from behind. He freezes from the action, but all that did was make you hug him tighter.

”Please, don’t push me away, not like this,” your tears were free-falling, soaking his shirt. “I’m begging you, please.”

“Goddamn it, you have no right to do this right now,” he snapped, grabbing your hand to pry it away from himself before grabbing you by the arm and callously dragging you downstairs.

”Yeosang, stop it, stop—-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he hissed, grabbing onto your arm tighter, so tight you were sure he’d leave marks on it hours from now, dragging you roughly, not caring if you stumbled and tripped along the way.

He pulls on his door, giving you one last look before completely pushing you out so harshly, you fell on the floor of the elevator that will lead you out. You looked up at him, fat tears still rolling down your eyes, and he looked straight at you without any emotion as he pressed down the button.

It still didn’t hit you, not until the elevator doors opened again and you realized that you were back in the parking lot. You walked out with your wobbly legs as far as it could take you before completely breaking down on the nearby wall, slumping down and hugging your legs together as you wailed your heart out.

You shouldn’t have done it. He had every right to be furious with you right now, and there was no repairing this, you had broken his trust and that’s not something that would ever be the same again even if you gained it back. 

The rain from above had begun to mix with your tears and soon enough, you were completely soaked from head to toe. You were so deep in your despair that you didn’t even realize that it had begun raining.

Yeosang’s hoodie did nothing to shield you from the bitter cold. There was only so much your body could take until you had begun shivering, and stupidly, you waited a little thinking that maybe, just maybe, Yeosang would change his mind, especially since you didn’t drive here yourself.

But you knew it was never going to happen. Shaking, you got your phone out and dialed the first number that you saw first. You were sniffling hard, your teeth chattering, sobs broken with hiccups here and there.

“Hello?” Yunho’s sweet and comforting voice came through the line.

“Y-Yunho,” you uttered in broken sobs. “C-Can you please pick me up? I need help.”

“Y/N? Are you okay? Hang on,” his frantic voice asked. “Tell me the address, do not go anywhere. I’m on my way.”

You tried your best to describe the location to him before hanging up. You were glad it was Yunho, his name was eerily close to Yeosang’s in your contact list.

You didn’t notice that car that pulled up directly in front of you, startling yourself when an arm started to help you up, handling you with such care you wanted to cry all over again.

“I got you, I got you,” he reassured, not caring if he got wet by the rain, let alone get his car soaked when you sat inside.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Yunho tried to ask, driving out of the parking lot as soon as he possibly could.

You could only shake your head, the words you wanted to tell him caught in your throat. A hoarse and grating sound from your mouth escaped, instead, your lungs wheezing for air the moment your tears started to fall again. The only thing Yunho could do was be patient, even though the sight of you sobbing your heart out squeezed his own.

It had to be bad, he thought. You were never one to cry, you and Jongho were similar in that aspect while he was the odd one out since he was very easily touched. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his foot unconsciously stepping on the gas in an attempt to get back to the apartment faster.

He got out of the car in record speed to pound on the apartment door. An annoyed, but confused, Jongho answered. “Go to my car,” he panted. Jongho was about to ask when Yunho cut him off. “It’s Y/N, it’s really bad, Jjong.”

No words need to be said. Jongho moved past him, not even bothering to put on any shoes, as he ran to his car and practically flung the door open. You felt yourself getting carried, but you didn’t bother to look up, your tears blurring your vision, anyway.

“Bathroom,” Yunho said, sighing in concern as he watched Jongho carry you in his arms. “Do it quickly, she was shivering really bad when I picked her up…”

Jongho laid you down on the tub and began filling it with water so you wouldn’t get sick from the rain while Yunho did his best to tuck your hair out of your face as much as possible and helped you out of the hoodie that was weighing your body down. Deep in your heart, you knew that you owe these two forever.

“What the hell happened?” Jongho questioned, the anger in his voice straining his own throat. “I’m going to strangle him. Did he hurt you?”

You didn’t respond, Jongho had to hold you by the shoulders and shake you a bit. “Did he fucking hurt you?”

“Jongho, cut it out, you’re scaring her,” Yunho hissed, prying the latter’s hands off of you in a rare show of his own anger. He kneeled down, gently holding your eyes with his own. “Y/N? I need you to tell us what happened.”

And so you did. It was difficult on your part because you had to retell everything that happened. The longer you talked, the more pitiful you looked - your voice was almost gone, your cheeks sullen and pale, and your eyes rimmed with reddish and purplish hues due to crying. You could see it in their faces that they agreed with the one thing you told them after - that it was, indeed, your fault. 

“You didn’t know, okay?” Jongho held your head firmly. “You didn’t know. I should’ve emphasized how fucked up he is before you approached him. ”

“Do you know what’s in the box?” Yunho asked curiously.

You hesitated before answering. “A name. Jung Wooyoung.”

Jongho froze, his hands on his head automatically pulling away as if you had burned him. It pretty much confirmed what you already had in mind - the name had something to do with why Yeosang was the way he was.

All the anger he had simmered down faster than you realized. “I see,” Jongho sighed. “That makes a lot of sense now. Wooyoung is very, very important to Yeosang.”

“Still,” Yunho murmured. “How important has this guy gotta be for him to kick her out like an asshole?”

“Very important,” Jongho deadpanned. He heaved a weighted sigh, completely slumping down on the floor beside the tub. “Wooyoung is Yeosang’s half-brother.“

That night, you already knew that you weren’t feeling the best. There was so much information in your head that you wanted to completely forget for now, but how would you do that when even your own body was reminding you about what had happened today?

If Yeosang forgave you one day, you knew you’d still live with the guilt as long as you’re alive.

You had to skip your classes the next day. As you suspected - more like expected - you had raging fever and there was no way you would be able to go anyway, Yunho guarded your door like a hound.

There was a lot of berating on his end, and admittedly, while it was fascinating to see, the sweet Jeong Yunho had disappeared for a bit when you heard an earful from him when you wouldn’t drink your medicine or eat the soup he bought.

But you had to go the day after that. There was only so much leeway Professor Park could give you without you having to take more extracurricular activities after. The project alone was daunting enough.

That was another thing. You had to tell him that this project with Yeosang might be over and that there was a huge possibility that you were opting out now before it even started.

Your phone kept vibrating in between your classes. You knew it was Yunho reminding you to take it easy. Or perhaps, it was Jongho looking for you. You were actively avoiding him because you knew you’d receive an earful too. Between the two, he was definitely more overprotective.

It was pointless, you couldn’t concentrate on anything. The pounding in your head just wasn’t going to go away in a day or two, even though you hoped it did, and your entire body just felt hot to the touch, sweat kept leaking out of your pores at an alarming rate.

You missed Yeosang already. You were so used to hanging out with him the moment you set foot on campus, and you could already hear the whispers of why you were alone while Yeosang was nowhere to be seen.

It certainly made you mad. The assumption was that you finally got sick of Yeosang and had finally opened your eyes to how weird he was. It wasn’t true at all, you wanted to scream at everyone to stop being judgmental, but you couldn’t even stand straight without toppling over.

It was getting difficult to not give in to your fever. You were walking through the hallways of the campus to get to your next class, not to actually go, but to tell your next professor that you couldn’t attend and needed to go home. You were at your limit, especially when you accidentally bumped into a girl in your class. Luckily, she wasn’t salty about it and asked you if you were okay, instead.

You wouldn’t get the opportunity to answer her. It all happened so fast, black spots were covering your vision and you felt your muscles going weak. Soon enough,  your body just gave out on you, and you came tumbling over, passing out in this girl’s arms.

Yeosang saw everything. He hadn’t meant to, he usually took a different hallway to go to his classes since this one was very crowded, but something in his mind just kept telling him to pass through this one just once. 

Nothing mattered to him at that moment. He dropped everything - his books, his coffee, his inhibitions, his anger - and ran towards you, not caring at all the stares he was getting. He didn’t care, not anymore, especially not when it came towards you.

He didn’t even realize that Jongho had gotten to you first. His childhood friend was kneeling on the floor, cradling your head to his chest, his hands tapping your cheeks in an attempt to wake you up. He didn’t care about that either.

”Wait, what in God’s name are you doing?” Jongho was thoroughly surprised when Yeosang pushed him away and grabbed your limp body towards himself. He didn’t even have time to register anything when Yeosang began to carry you in one go as if you didn’t weigh anything.

“What does it look like?” Yeosang snapped. “I’m taking her—-”

“Hell no, you are not,” Jongho gritted his teeth, grabbing onto his arm to try and stop him. His explosion had already caught on to the other students, it was embarrassing.

Yeosang tried to shrug off Jongho’s hand, but he didn’t budge and held tighter. “You are the reason she is sick, bastard,” he hissed under his breath. He was about to say more, but he was caught off guard at the way Yeosang glared at him.

There was an intense, burning rage of fire in those eyes. He’s known Yeosang all his life, yet he has never seen this much emotion in his friend’s eyes. He was a no-nonsense type of man, and the magnitude of his feelings written in those eyes, the possessiveness, he had no choice but to let go and let Yeosang carry you away.

White lights penetrated through your eyelids even when they weren’t open. It was odd, you woke up with your eyes completely closed, but that flashing light was completely blinding you. It was unbearable.

You sat up with a groan, your hands clutching your head to soothe the pounding headache that made you want to split your head in half. The last thing you remembered was falling completely into that void, blackness swallowing you into its chasm, and then, nothing.

There was a small moment of panic that set in when you looked around and realized that you had absolutely no idea where you were. The only reason why you knew that you were back in Yeosang’s apartment was that the bed you were lying on smelled exactly like him; that sweet, musky, earthy scent that invaded your olfactory senses always brought heaven down to you.

A sudden ache clustered behind your eyes, the worst kind. It rendered you weak all over again, like your body was suddenly remembering that it was supposed to be sick. And just like that, you fell back asleep. 

But not for long. You felt something on your forehead, something wet and cold, and it was disrupting your well-needed rest. Your lips were getting parted a bit, an unconscious groan slipped past them.

“Yunho,” you mumbled, voice scratchy, throat itchy with how sore it was becoming.

Yeosang scoffed softly, his grip on the thermometre tightens ever so slightly, his other hand holding the cold towel on your forehead in place, hoping your fever would lessen, if not completely go away. 

You kept mumbling your roommates’ names, specifically Yunho’s. He knew of Yunho, he didn’t mind him, but he’d rather not hear it right now. He’ll let it pass for now, you were quite delirious, after all. It wasn’t something he couldn’t fully blame you for, it was him who was to blame for what happened to you.

His brow raised when your hand suddenly held his, the one holding the towel on your forehead. “Yuyu, cold,” you mumbled.

”Think again, princess,” his left eye twitched in annoyance, but he kept his voice as gentle as possible. 

You opened one eye so as to not overwhelm yourself with the light. Ah, how could you forget? You squeezed his hand slightly. “Yeo,” you smiled a little. “Are you still mad at me?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” he muttered, trying hard not to squeeze your hand back with the small nickname you gave him this time. “You are in my house, in my bed, calling another man’s name. You tell me.”

You frowned when he leaned away. “Keep that thing on,” he pointed at the cloth on your forehead. “I’ll be back to get some soup.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you weren’t in the mood for soup and that you just wanted to go to sleep, so just watched him walk out of the room. You had no right to complain, your heart was getting warmer in your chest at the thought of Yeosang still taking care of you even when he was mad at you.

People don’t know how pure-hearted this man was, but you knew. You knew.

When sleep was about to come knocking towards you once more, Yeosang had to tap your cheeks a bit to wake you up. He wouldn’t admit it, but it did make him feel bad, but you had to eat to replenish your energy.

“Open up,” he lifted the spoon to feed you, himself. “Don’t soil my bed.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle a little, the sound of it a bit grating in your ears. His rough-around-the-edges made you feel reassured, like he was never angry at you in the first place. You’d take this over anything any other day.

With his help, you were able to finish the soup very quickly. Here came the hard part, though - you needed to drink some medicine. Your stomach refused to take anything anymore, you didn’t want to throw up.

”Open your mouth,” Yeosang tried to push the pill in your mouth. “I don't want you dying on me.” 

Your fever is taking over your senses now, delirium setting in, and your vision is doubling. “Can I take it later? I really can’t, it’s too bitter,” you whined.

He frowned. “No. I don’t give a damn, take it before I shove it down your throat.”

He sighed exasperatedly when you weren’t letting up. He wasn’t a complete ass, he would never force you to do something you didn’t want to. 

An idea crosses his head. He bit his bottom lip apprehensively, there was one thing he could do, but was it going to be worth it? 

He took a look at your pitiful state. Drops of sweat trickled down your forehead, yet you were still shivering terribly. Your eyes opened and shut themselves repeatedly, yet they remained unfocused on anything.

One thing was for sure - you were still beautiful. The answer wasn’t lost on him.

He takes his mask off, the one that covered the majority of his face, the one he detested yet swore would never take off. He puts the pill on his tongue, grabs your face, then puts his lips against yours.

You mewled, caught off-guard by the suddenness of it, but you were far too gone to notice and care. This was a dream, it had to be. It was the only way to not lose your mind over this. You were too delirious to see his face, and you didn’t realize that you had already swallowed the pill in the heat of the moment.

He pulled away, giving you a small peck on the nose. He walked towards the door to leave, putting his mask back on in the process, but not before looking back at you one more time. It wasn’t the way he would’ve normally done things, but it helped, didn’t it?

”Yeosang, wait,” you mumbled. It came out as a weak call, but at least he heard you when he turned around. You actually didn’t know if he did, but you just hoped he did.

”What?”

“Whatever it is that’s trapping you in your own mind,” you began. You had no idea what compelled you to say it, your delirium was getting to you, but you just had to say it. “Whatever has happened to you, just know that it wasn’t your fault.”

Yeosang froze, his entire body going rigid. “Go back to sleep,” he muttered, teeth gritted. It wasn’t out of anger, it was out of concern.

”Forgive yourself, please,” you coughed one last time before your head hit the pillow to rest. “And forgive me too…”

He wouldn’t go back to that room until the next day. He clearly had a lot to think about.

He was never truly mad at you, not entirely anyway. Rather, he was terrified. He was utterly scared of you finding out the skeletons in his closet before he told you, and he was close, he was so damn close, but when you found out first, he just couldn’t help the anger that filled his veins at that moment.

You slept for another day straight with Yeosang checking in on you once in a while. He didn’t wake you up, you definitely needed that rest to recuperate your energy

Your phone would ring once in a while but Yeosang was quick to assure Yunho, if he called, that you were fine. And if Jongho called, he wouldn’t even bother picking up. He wanted to be petty, what could he say?

By the third day, you were feeling completely fine. You were able to get up on your own and finally shower after staying on the same bed with the same clothes for a couple of days. You were able to deduce that Yeosang had taken you to his other guest room, the one that didn’t have the theater system.

When you got in the bathroom, you were pleasantly surprised to find clothes already provided in there for you. You couldn’t help the beating of your heart, both in adoration with this man and in the hurt you feel for him.

You hugged your knees, huddling in the corner of the shower as your tears mixed with the cascading water from above you. You hoped that it would wash away all the wrongs you’ve done, but you knew it never worked like that. If only things were that easy.

The shower definitely made you feel better, your body was so sore from laying down for days. You needed to stretch, and so when you looked at the time, you realized that it was only seven o’clock in the morning, so you could make breakfast for you and Yeosang.

Your body was on autopilot, years of making breakfast for Jongho and Yunho has trained you for this very moment. You just hoped Yeosang liked what you made, but you would understand if he didn’t.

“Smells good.”

You screeched, jumping a couple of feet away from where you were standing, throwing the spatula you were holding in the air. There he was, standing at the foot of the stairs just watching you.

He sighed, walking and picking up the spatual to hand it over to you. You avoided eye contact with him when he got so close, you could smell him. It makes your head grow weary with dizziness.

“I’m glad the clothes fit you,” he mumbled, clearing his throat. “Do you feel better?”

“I-I think so,” you replied, tucking a strand of your hair at the back of your ears, not knowing what to do now that he was directly in front of you like this.  

When you closed your eyes, you envisioned his face. Not in its entirety, however. You could perfectly see his features one by one when he removed the mask that night, but it was difficult to imagine them all together. Redness coloured your cheeks at the very thought of it. 

It wasn’t lost on him what you were thinking. The nervous ticks of your hands and the slightest shift of your body told him everything you needed to know, that you were nervous. 

You were expecting him to reply with something snide, something sarcastic, like he has always done with you. But instead, he heaved a sigh so heavy, it sounded like he was completely giving up and surrendering. “What am I going to do with you?” Yeosang said.

You frowned, looking up at him in apprehension. “W-What do you mean?”

“First, you invade my privacy by snooping around,” he said bluntly. You winced. “And then, you have the audacity to get sick. And now you’re here, making me breakfast you know I wouldn’t eat in front of you.”

You bit your lip, chewing on it nervously. You let out a small gasp when his thumb gently presses on your chin, pulling it down a little to stop you from doing so. “And then do you shit like this,” he whispered.

”I’m sorry,” you blurted out. “I’m so sorry for everything, I didn’t mean to be sick, but I’m very grateful that you took care of me.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, did you really think I’d just leave you hanging like that? Did you honestly think that you weren’t important to me enough?”

You blinked at him owlishly, your mouth opened a little as you stared comically at him. “But, you weren’t wrong,” you gulped, your vulnerability overpowering how nervous you were actually feeling right now. ”I did snoop around but I promise you I didn’t do it on purpose, I promise you—-“

”Shh,” he hushes you, pressing his thumb on your lips this time. “I know, princess, I know,“ he swallowed before continuing. “None of it was your fault, i-it’s all mine. I am so, so sorry, Y/N.”

It hurt you to see him like this, the Yeosang you knew was headstrong, upfront, and outspoken. The Yeosang in front of you right now was vulnerable, just like you, nervous, and hesitant to say what was on his mind. His eyes bore into you, they shone with endearment towards you.

His hand makes way to your cheeks, his hand cupping your face tenderly. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered, a tone I’ve never heard from him before. “I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

You sniffled, forcing a smile on your face. “Nah, you can’t get rid of me that easily,“ you chuckled. “I’m strong, aren’t I? Cheer up, Yeo.”

His hand itched to pull your head closer. “I’ve always liked it when you call my name like that,” he confessed, testing the waters by taking one step closer towards you. “When all you hear everywhere is ‘freak’, it sounds like a treat, you know?”

“I’m the only one who should matter,” you blurted out without thinking. “Those people don’t deserve you, they don’t deserve the smart, kind, empathetic person that you are, they just don’t.”

You saw Yeosang close his eyes slowly, his entire body trembling as he held you. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he muttered, both of his hands holding your face this time. “I don’t deserve you.”

“What? Don’t say that—-”

“I told myself to not cross this line before,” he said, walking forward, his hand pushing you backwards until you hit the countertop with your behind. “So I pushed you down a million times, but the truth was, I’d love it if you knew that you were on my mind.”

Your heart was constricting, shrinking on itself, that it hurt to even breathe. The vulnerability in his eyes was making you tear up. You purse your lips to stop yourself from tearing up then and there. “Do you remember what you told me the other night?” Yeosang asked you, his hand going behind your neck. 

You shook your head, not because you didn’t truly remember, but because you can’t even describe what you’re truly feeling right now. “You told me to forgive myself,” he murmured. “But how am I supposed to do that when I was this close to losing you because of some misunderstanding from my insecurities?”

You could feel the weight of what he was saying as something tangible. You gulped, opening your mouth those three little words you’ve always wanted to tell him, but he quickly shook his head. 

“Don’t say it,” he pleaded. “Not yet, Y/N. Not yet.”

This was it for Yeosang, it was now or never. With what he’s going to tell you, it’s either you stay or you don’t. There is no in between. He ran his hand through his hair, something you noticed he did a lot when he was frustrated, as if doing so would lessen his unraveling thoughts and feelings. 

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath. He can’t do it, where did he even want to start?

It was a constant push and pull between you and Yeosang - he was good at being there without suffocating, you were good at offering your support without asking for anything in return. It infuriated him, yet intoxicated him. All he wanted was to run away when all you wanted to do was lean on him. 

But not anymore, he wasn’t going to run anymore.

“For the lack of a better word, I’m fucked up, Y/N,” he chuckled bitterly, breaking your heart into small pieces. “It wasn’t always like this, you know? I have my reasons, and I was fine being alone, but you.”

He held your hands and warmth spread all throughout your fingertips. It sent sparks down your spine. “The first time I looked at you, you didn’t even notice it. You were the only one who didn’t pay attention to me or said anything remotely stupid about this.”

He was referring to the mask. You stared at him in sadness, was the bar really that low? It wasn’t difficult to not talk about it, it wasn’t your place, and you believed everyone does what they do for a reason regardless or how unreasonable it could be. 

His eyes started to search yours. He wanted to stop breathing. It was those eyes of yours. He swallowed a lump on his throat because you always looked at him like the only thing you saw was him. It was too much for him at times, yet it was never enough at the same time.

“There are a lot of things I want to tell you, but I don’t know where to start,” he admitted. He hated how small he sounded. “I want to tell you everything, I’m just stuck in my head lately, that’s all.”

You didn’t respond immediately, what were you supposed to say to something like that? You weren’t good with things like this, and your heart twisted with hurt as you took a good look at him, he looked hopeful yet sad. Yeosang thought you looked so understanding right now, and he wanted to scream.

“You saw it when you opened the box, didn’t you?”

You tilted your head, confused at first, but you knew exactly what he was talking about. You wanted to hear it from him. “What about it?”

“I’m so stupid,” he chuckled bitterly. “I guess I was embarrassed when you found out that you weren’t going to be my original partner for the project.”

Your heart thudded in your chest. I knew it, you thought. You did have an inkling, but you didn’t want to assume anything. “I don’t know why I did it, but I don’t regret it. Deep down, I think Professor Choi knew,” he continued.

You noticed that he was slowly pulling away, you can read it in his eyes that he’s said enough. You weren’t going to let him do that.

”Yeosang,” you uttered his name with gentle care; with such grace. “You can tell me anything, alright? No matter what it is, I’m here. You have no reason to carry your burdens by yourself anymore.”

You could tell that your words hit him like a hurricane. You stared at him, the conflict in his eyes, oh, how you want to take that all away from him. You definitely wanted to tell him how you felt about him, and you just might. 

Yeosang stepped closer to you, your face almost brushing against his chest. His hand tightened their hold on your and the contact sent jolts of shivers against your scalp. He was having an internal conflict, his resolve slowly breaking down in front of you as his eyes met with yours once again. You almost couldn’t handle the softness in his eyes, it was too much, yet it was everything.

���I don’t think I can do this,” he choked out, eyes reddening. He was pulling away.

But you weren’t going to let him. “You can,” you encouraged, voice gentle yet firm. You brought his hands to your lips and gave them a small peck. “I’m not leaving, even if you push me away. I am not leaving you.”

"No, you don't understand," he counteracted. "I don't want you to lean on me, because I'm falling, and I don't want that for you."

His hands were trembling. "And don't even count on me, because I'm drowning," he gazed at you with despair. "Please don't drown with me."

That hurt more than you thought possible for your heart to take. The emotions behind it were so rough, and for the first time, you didn't know what to do. "What do you want, then?"

"To hold you in my arms," he admitted. "Because I'd let the ocean take me if I can't."

The pounding of Yeosang’s heart slowed down, and finally, he finally felt like he could breathe again. He’d always felt like he was standing on the edge of the cliff, but this time, he could see himself finally jumping towards that liberation he’d always dreamt of chasing.

”Do you trust me?” You suddenly asked him.

It didn’t even take him a second to answer. “With all my heart.”

You suddenly lifted your fingers, eyes never leaving his. The fabric of the mask he wore on his face felt smooth and heavy against your fingertips as you slowly pulled it down and pulled it away from his face. It was the symbolization of it - you were going to set him free. 

To say you were starstruck was the least of your concerns. You’ve never seen someone so astoundingly beautiful that it took your breath away. It was like being hit by lightning - so sudden and intense that you felt like you were being blown away. You took all of his features one by one - his perfect nose, his kissable lips, that adorable birthmark that was now in full view.

It certainly brought tears to your eyes. You cupped Yeosang’s face as your tears fell. “You’re beautiful,” you sobbed, more tears filling your lips as you smiled at him. “So beautiful, Yeo. So, so beautiful.”

“I love you,” he whispered, his eyes filling up with his own tears. Finally saying them felt like something broke inside him yet healed at the same time. “I wanted to tell you in a better setting, in a more graceful way, but I don’t think I can keep it all in anymore.”

It was true. The words just slipped out before he could stop himself. It hung in the air, it felt unreal, and it was suffocating because his chest tightened with a mix of fear and anxiety as he waited for your response.

Your eyes widened and for a moment, you thought your knees were going to buckle underneath you. Before you even understood it, yourself, your hands left his face to snake behind his neck and then you were leaning towards him, your lips finally meeting with his.

It was everything and more. He was surprised at first, but then his lips started to move in sync with yours. It was months of pining with one another, feelings that were left unsaid for most of the time. And now you were here, breathing each other in as if today was going to be your last.

You felt so soft and warm against him. You were everything he ever wanted and now that he had you, there was no way he was letting you go. Not again.

”I love you too,” you pulled away slightly, your faces still inches away from each other. 

He couldn’t help but chuckle, not in amusement, but in relief. For the first time, he just let himself fall. He felt a deep yearning for you, it was far more than the desire to have you for himself. It was the unadulterated love he had for you.

You bit your lips at the sound of his voice, deep and unfiltered without the mask covering it. Yeosang tentatively held your face, his head tilting, the ghost of his lips fleeting against yours. He hesitated. While he wanted nothing more than to capture your lips one more time, he wanted to ask you one last thing.

“If I kiss you again right now, that will mean you will be mine,” he whispered. 

His impatient side was taking over, but no, it was up to you. If you want him, you’ll have him.

You blushed at the implication, but you already knew what you wanted. This was why you fell for him - it wasn’t for what he looked like or what he could and could have offered you, it was his warm and considerate attitude.

Your lips brushed against his. It was meant to be sweet, a confirmation of what your answer was without even needing to spell the words out to him. 

Yeosang’s resolve broke when you parted your lips. You let out a breathy, startled cry when he plunged his tongue straight onto your mouth, and your hold on his shoulders did nothing to calm down the wild beating of your heart. He pulled you close to him as if he was scared that you were going to leave him and all you did was kiss him even deeper to prove that you wouldn’t.

He needed to hear that sweet sound again. It was supposed to be a chaste kiss,  but when he sucked on your tongue after you had teasingly bitten his bottom lip, sweetness be damned. He swallowed your quiet, whiny moans as he held you closer against him, his hand just holding your cheeks as if you were the most precious of treasures.

The both of you were startled out of the kiss when the loud beeping of the fire alarm sounded from somewhere above you.

You paled, quickly pushing Yeosang away to put the fire away from the burning pan of breakfast that you had totally both forgotten in the heat of the moment. You pouted, disheartened at the blackened eggs, or what was left of it.

Yeosang started to laugh, not believing that an egg cockblocked him. It wasn’t the sarcastic laugh you were used to nor was it that passing laugh he’d make when he was restraining himself. No, this was the tummy-tickling type. His entire face was scrunched up, his lips spread throughout his face, his eyes squinting with that unmistakable happiness, and his demeanor light and free. You loved this look on him.

“Stop making fun of me,” you pouted, laughing in between. You never realized how contagious his laughter was, and that realization led you to another thought - you are loving the new things you were learning about him.

“Just leave them,” he said, taking the pan from you to put it down the sink and pulling you plush against his toned chest. 

“Yeosang,” you whined, blushing profusely at his affectionate gestures. It was a total change from who he was just hours prior to this. “Stop, I’m embarrassed…”

When he planted a quick peck on your lips, he couldn’t help but laugh again at your even more reddened face. You were so cute in his eyes, and had he known that he would feel this happy just by being with you like this, he would’ve gotten his head out of his ass a while back.

”I’ll take you out for lunch, princess,” he bargained, holding on to your hand. It wasn’t the first time he said the pet name, but it felt entirely different this time on your ears. “There’s this place I have to take you after.”

You didn’t miss the melancholy in his eyes when he said it, but you tried your best to cheer him up. “Oh? Is this a date, Kang Yeosang?”

”What if it is?” Yeosang scoffed playfully, hugging you from the waist tighter. “Can’t I take my girl out?”

“Who said I was your girl?”

You slightly felt bad at his shocked, widened eyes. You laughed out loud, leaning towards him once more to give him a sweet peck on his cheeks. “Relax, hot stuff,” you smirked when pink tinted his cheeks. “Thank you for loving me.”

A genuine smile crossed his lips, the adoration in his eyes tripling from the words you just uttered. He leaned his forehead against yours, content and happy. “No, thank you for loving me.”

Lunch was better than you could have ever imagined. Yeosang took you to this place that was an hour away from his apartment. Unsurprisingly, it was a high-end place, somewhere you would never have imagined you’d ever dine in.

“Yeo, I feel underdressed,” you frowned in concern, tugging at your dress that you both shopped for on a whim to suit the ambience of the fine dining spot.

”You’re beautiful,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “The most beautiful princess.”

When you finally sat down, he kept looking around, fiddling with his suit uncomfortably. You took his hand in yours in reassurance, it was the first time he went out without his mask and you could tell that he wasn’t used to it.

If only he knew. You ate lunch slowly, not because you were trying to be posh, but because you kept stealing glances at your boyfriend. Your boyfriend. The thought almost made you choke on your food so many times.

He really was the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen, heck, he was even prettier than you ever will be. His features were so refined, like God took his time with him. And now, he was yours.

However, the old Yeosang you knew was still there. He glared nastily at you when you tried to split the bill when you were done eating. You sheepishly smiled at him, putting your card back in your wallet to let him pay for everything. You would make it up to him by kissing him in front of everybody in the restaurant when you were leaving.

Public display of affection wasn’t your thing, but it was so worth it to see his flustered smirk.

”Do you know why I brought you here?” Yeosang questioned, buckling your seatbelt for you like a true gentleman, curiously. 

You frowned, looking around from inside the car. You’ve never been here before and to be fair, when you told him to surprise you, he did deliver. “You’re not going to kill me and dump my body out here, aren’t you?” You teased him.

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “I should,” he murmured. He laid his arm at your headrest, looking behind as he reversed the car. You gulped, he looked hot. “Seriously, Y/N? God, you’re so fucking weird.”

You chortled, the snorting sound coming from you was so embarrassing but you didn’t care. “True, but you love me,” you smirked triumphantly. 

He sniffled, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. “I know,” he fake cried. “Is it too late for me to find the receipt so I can still return you to the store?”

You gasped, your mouth dropping in mock offense. “Yeosang!”

He wasn’t going to change from that apathetic friend that you had first before this, except that you had the benefit of having his love now. 

The drive was smooth-sailing. You felt like you were in cloud nine the entire time, giggling when he would smirk at you knowingly, his hand on yours the entire time while the other was on the steering wheel. You couldn’t help but notice how smooth his hands were.

Soon enough, you were driving in an area where the houses had great views and were situated in prime locations. You didn’t notice it at first, but the more you drove, the bigger the houses got. You weren’t naive, you had an idea just how wealthy Yeosang’s family was, but you were about to find out just how wealthy they actually were.

”Let’s go,” he murmured, unbuckling his seatbelt after parking directly in front of this gated house - mansion, rather. It was intimidating, the driveway, alone, was long and winding, surrounded by pretty lights and vast greenery. 

He opened your door for you, holding your hand and gently ushering you out. You gulped, if you felt underdressed earlier when you went to a fine dining restaurant, you definitely felt out of place and you haven’t even gone inside yet.

“You could’ve told me we were going here,” you frowned, your mind already getting poisoned by your own insecurities. You gestured to yourself. “I would’ve dressed better.”

Outside the gates was a small hut-looking station, presumably where the security guards were whose jobs were to filter out who entered the property and kick out whoever isn't welcome. Yeosang knocked twice on the window with his knuckles. You were fascinated when the sliding window opened quickly, seemingly like whoever was there wasn’t expecting to be disturbed when they opened their mouth to speak.

But when they saw who was knocking, they immediately shut up. “Young Master,” the guard said in surprise rather than contempt. 

Your boyfriend smiled. “Hello, Juyeon,” he waved slightly. He gestured to me. “I’m with my girl. Open the gates, do not announce my arrival. Wooyo?”

You didn’t pay attention to their conversation, your insecurities getting the best of you. You generally weren’t someone to get intimidated by opulence and the material luxury that this world could offer, but now that it was right in front of you staring you in the face, you didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t realize that the gates had opened and Yeosang was holding your hand again and leading you inside. You smiled politely at the guard, bowing slightly to each other before you turned your attention back to Yeosang.

“You’re beautiful, I told you,” he shook his head, walking forward and leading you in. “If anything, you look perfect.”

He chuckled at your confused face. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, someone important to me,” he explained, his voice taking on a sadder tone even though he tried to hide it from you. “This is my family home. I want everyone to see you for you and they will accept that because I’d hate for you to change just to fit in.”

You didn’t know squat about construction, but even to the inexperienced eye, it was easy to tell that the way the entire property was built was made up of high-quality and premium materials. You were still on the lawn and it was already boasting a large amount of space. 

“It’s called common courtesy,” you reasoned out, trying hard not to gawk at your surroundings. “I don’t want to look like I didn’t make an effort or anything.”

You faced the front door with him, pausing when he hesitated to push it open. “You’re literally fine, though I understand where you’re coming from,” he reassured me. “My parents are very kind people, trust me.”

You blanched. “Your parents?”

Now you felt totally out of place, you were about to meet his parents! “Yeo, a-are you sure about this? We’ve only been together for a day, are you sure—-”

“Princess,” he stopped you, worry in his eyes at your panicked state. It significantly calmed you down, but it didn’t stop the wild beating of your heart. “You were my friend first,” he smiled tightly at you. “I think my parents would be pleased to meet the person that helped me and was there for me whenever I needed comfort.”

Your chest warmed, his words hitting you directly in your heart. To say you were touched would be an understatement. “I did that for you?”

“In more ways than one, yeah,” he chuckled, ruffling your hair affectionately before fixing it, tucking the stray ones behind your ears gently and tenderly. “Ready?”

If the driveway and the lawn weren’t enough to impress you and make your jaw hit the floor, the interior of the house definitely did. Everything from the living room down the smallest corners of the walls screamed luxury and money, the attention to detail was impressive, especially since you grew up in a humble home.

”Holy shit, Yeosang,” you blurted out as he gave you a tour. “I knew you had money, but this is crazy.”

“Old money,” he shrugged. “Didn’t Jongho tell you we were childhood friends? My little princess can think about that for a second, hmm?”

You rolled your eyes at him, but he was right. It also didn’t stop the blush from rising up your cheeks. You would just never get used to his affectionate nature being out in the open now. 

Besides the few house workers that were delighted at the sight of Yeosang, you didn’t encounter anybody significant yet. You weren’t sure if that was a relief or not, but so far you were enjoying the tour. He showed the pool, the built-in sauna with the promise of using it with you next time, and the outdoor kitchen.

There was also a home theater, but he didn’t stay long. You figured it had something to do with how you two had a falling out a week prior. Instead, he took you to his favourite place - the wine cellar. Apparently, his father loved collecting wine from all over the world. You gulped at the mere thought of the price tag attached to them.

He smirked when he brought you to the main kitchen. Your eyes shone at the granite countertops, the marbled floors, and the custom cabinetry that held every spice and herb known to mankind. There, a kind looking woman approached you with a wide smile. Yeosang introduced her as the head chef.

”I see you got yourself a little girlfriend, Sangie,” she teased mischievously. 

Yeosang cleared his throat, rolling his eyes affectionately as he gave the head a tight hug. “It’s been a while,” he whispered with an emotion you haven’t recognized before. “Uhm, this is Y/N,“ he gestures to you after he’s pulled away. 

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled as the head chef gave you a tight hug of your own. It certainly touched you, it was such a warm gesture and you’ve never met them before, too.

”Hopefully, Yeosang has been treating you well,” she said with a knowing smile. “My, you are very pretty, dear.”

“Who’s very pretty?”

You turned to a new voice from the entrance of the grand kitchen. Judging from what you were seeing, you knew exactly who this woman was. She looked just like Yeosang, except she was much, much older. She had this elegance and grace that one couldn’t get from anywhere else except for age and the wisdom that came along with it.

You bowed in a ninety-degree angle as politely and as respectfully as you possibly can. “G-Good afternoon, Mrs. Kang, I am so sorry to intrude into your house like this!” 

You heard her amused laughter, and when you rose back up, you held back in your own laughter when you saw her hold the shell of her son’s ear and pulled it towards her cheekily. 

“You unfilial son of mine,” she started off, ignoring Yeosang’s groans of pain as she tightened her hold. “You haven’t set foot in here for a while and you dare just show up unannounced? Oh, your father will have a field day with you!”

“But it’s okay,” she giggled, your eyes widening when she held you by the arm. “Finally, you bring a beautiful girl home, oh, I thought my son was going to die a virgin forever!”

“Mum! What the hell?”

Yeosang’s mom was a chatterbox, and she was the sweetest. It made you breathe out a sigh of relief because you were slightly terrified that she’d reject your humble background compared to theirs and her son’s lifestyle growing up.

The only way Yeosang was able to drag you away was when you made a promise to her that you’d come back for tea time.

“Princess, I hope this doesn’t deter you from coming back,” he remarked sarcastically, leading you outside with his hand on your lower back. “I swear everybody here is sane.”

As if on cue, the house staff that would either pass the two of you or you would pass bowed and giggled to themselves in amusement and surprise when they saw Yeosang. You smiled awkwardly at everybody, breathing a sigh of relief when you reached the back part of the property once more, except Yeosang led you to an entirely different place.

“I think everybody is sweet and it’s quite endearing to see them like you,” you chuckled. “I get it though. It’s like they haven’t seen you in months.”

“That’s because they actually haven’t seen me in months,” he deadpanned.

You chuckled a bit, thinking that he was joking just to uplift the mood, but when you saw his facial expression remaining unchanged, your smile dropped. “W-Wait, you’re serious?”

“We’ve been technically together for a while now without the label, have you ever seen my family visit or heard a phone call?” Yeosang scoffed, pulling on your hand to stop you from walking. “We’re here.”

Your mouth parted in awe. Flowers littered your vision, they were a dancing rainbow of pretty blossoms. You’ve always dreamt of getting a house one day with a huge garden like this, you could almost detect the insatiable fragrance this garden offered, and the way the beautiful petals curled from the summer heat made you want to touch them. You could stay here and make this your sanctuary.

”But why? Was there any reason you cut contact with them? They love you, Yeo, I could see that,” you said softly, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

He lifted a finger to point at something. “That’s why,” he said. His eyes were swimming with a mixture of anxiety and longing, but when he blinked, it was gone. He offered you his hand once more. “Come along, princess. There’s someone I would like you to meet.”

You didn’t notice it at first, but there was a person on the far end of the garden. The closer you got, the more you realized that it was a man. He was obscured by all the pretty flowers, but he was there clear as day.

Your heart dropped to your feet, for the man was in a wheelchair, his entire right leg in a cast along with his right arm. Was this the reason why Yeosang chose to leave his family? You were nervous to know the answer.

He didn’t notice you at first, too busy basking underneath the sun that was beaming down on him. He had a soft, serene smile painted on his face that signified that he was truly at peace at the moment. Your brows shot up when you got closer, he was handsome. 

Finally, he looked up, and then his eyes widened. Between Yeosang’s trembling hands and the man’s widened, unsure eyes, you didn’t know what to do, exactly. The three of you were frozen in time.

“Yeosang,” he whispered, eyes hooded with emotions you couldn’t stand looking at, not because you had something against this man, but because you might end up crying if you stare too long. He tried to get up hurriedly, struggling against his restrictions, and it was when Yeosang finally broke out of his trance and rushed forward.

“Damn it, Wooyoung, what the hell is wrong with you?” Yeosang hissed, his harsh voice a contrast to the gentle way he helped the latter sit back properly on his wheelchair. “Have you lost your mind?”

You purse your lips. Ah, you thought, so this was Wooyoung. The genes in this family continue to astound you. You didn’t recognize him at first - in the photo you saw, Wooyoung had shorter hair, and right now, his hair was long enough to reach his shoulders. And he has a thorny rose tattoo that he didn’t have in the photo.

Wooyoung stared at Yeosang when he lifted his pants a little before squatting down to his level, using his hands to lean on the wheelchair for support. The fox-looking man stared at his brother with no particular expression on his face except for his teary eyes. You felt like you were intruding.

Yeosang smirked lightly, without any malice or ill-intent. “How are you, Woo?”

You weren’t expecting much, in fact, you weren’t expecting anything at all, but you sure as hell weren’t expecting your boyfriend’s face to be, for the lack of a better word, bitch-slapped so hard, it sent his head reeling to the side. The loud, cracking sound of skin hitting skin surprised you, to say the least.

“That’s for disappearing on me for months,” Wooyoung hissed, his hand still in the air.

Yeosang’s mouth was parted in shock. He slowly turned his head back to Wooyoung, his eyes widened, but he didn’t say a word. His cheek was slowly growing red and if it wasn’t for the situation, you would’ve laughed at the handprint forming on the area.

After a while, Wooyoung burst out crying, leaning forward to grab Yeosang by his shirt so he could wrap his arms tightly around him. Yeosang relaxes into the hug, patting Wooyoung’s shaking body whilst rubbing onto his back soothingly like a father comforting a son. The only sound in the garden right now was Wooyoung’s silent wails and sniffles.

“How did you even know I was here?” Wooyoung wondered, sniffling, as he pulled away and took a good look at Yeosang by holding onto his face. “You look…happier.”

You blushed when he side-eyes you mischievously, winking at you subtly before turning his attention back at Yeosang. “You’re a jerk, you know that?” Wooyoung further chided, scoffing loudly at Yeosang, who rolled his eyes. “Dad is pretty pissed at you and mum was running around like a chicken without a head. You left me high and dry, bastard.”

“And you?” Yeosang raised a brow, rubbing his cheek, offended.  “What about you?”

“You tell me,”  Wooyoung pushed Yeosang’s shoulder. You wanted to giggle at how different the two brothers were. “You were having so much fun at dad’s penthouse.”

Yeosang was genuinely surprised. “How—”

“Anyway,” he grinned, turning his wheelchair manually to face you. He stretches his arm towards you and waves it to gesture to you to come closer to him. “Come, come,” he said. “I need to know the girl who removed my brother’s stick from his ass.”

“Bold of you to assume we’re together,” Yeosang scoffed, motioning for you to sit down on the nearby bench.

“Keep telling yourself that. Move along,” he turned his wheelchair once more, the wheels going over Yeosang’s foot like a bump on the road. He mumbled a small ‘oops,’ not really caring about the latter’s groan of pain as he clutched on his foot while glaring behind the former’s back intensely.

He grinned again, bringing his hand out for you to shake. “Jung Wooyoung, the better looking brother.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Yeosang rebutted. “She’s my girlfriend, dimwit.”

“L/N Y/N, the stick holder,” you smirked, bringing your own hand out to shake his. You tried hard not to stare at his cast and his injuries, though you were extra curious about them especially since Yeosang kept looking at them when he thought Wooyoung didn’t notice, and his eyes held pain.

Wooyoung laughed, surprising you with his high-pitched cackle. “Oh my God, I like her, I like her!” He repeatedly said, slapping his own thigh as he laughed. He batted his eyelashes at you. “So, what did you do to bring my brother out of his shell?”

It was when the atmosphere turned tense. Yeosang’s shoulders stiffened, his back muscles turning rigid. “I don’t think we should talk about that right now,” he murmured, sitting beside you and draping an arm across your shoulders.  “There’s so much time, Woo–”

“What, so much time for you to leave again? I won’t see you for months, hell, I might not see you again, knowing you,” Wooyoung scoffed, sighing heavily. He looked up at the sky again for minutes before setting his eyes towards Yeosang once more. “You need to let go, Sangie,” he paused, tilting his chin at me. “Does she know?”

Your curiosity was definitely piqued this time. Yeosang shook his head. “That’s why I’m here,” he sighed. He looked at you, giving you a tight smile. “I figured if you’re going to be with me, you have to know soon, anyway.”

“Is this related to why you covered your face the entire time during this semester?” You wondered absentmindedly, not expecting that it would set off another set of questions.

“Wait, what the hell does that mean?” Wooyoung blurted out in surprise. “Cover your face, how? Yeosang?”

Both of you proceeded to tell in your own experiences on how Yeosang would wear a mask to cover the bottom half of his face on campus and even around you until recently. Wooyoung’s jaw dropped lower and lower down to the floor the more you recounted your experiences, especially how Yeosang was being treated by the other students.

Wooyoung had this forlorn look on his face that got sadder and sadder the more you talked to the point that you regretted talking in the first place. He rubbed his face with his hands frustratedly. “Damn it, Sangie, I told you, I’m fine.”

Yeosang raised a brow, giving his injuries a pointed look, making Wooyoung roll his eyes. “It will heal,” he tried to console, but it wasn’t working. He turned to you, eyes laced with pain, before he sighed and spoke. “There was a car accident a couple of months ago. I was in the passenger’s seat, and Yeosang was driving.”

Hearing that felt like a dream, the sudden shock of it not fully sinking into you until Yeosang tightened his hold on your shoulder. “I like you, and you seem like a nice girl,” Wooyoung continued. “But I have to ask you this - what do you think about Yeosang?”

It definitely sparked something in you, it was an easy answer. “Everything,” you grabbed Yeosang’s hands in yours. “He’s very sweet, a bit of a jackass sometimes, but it’s a part of his personality I’m willing to work around because I’m in love with him. Anybody who doesn’t like him is lost on them, and I feel bad for them.”

Wooyoung seemed satisfied with this answer. His hand patted your free hand before he looked down. “There was this girl,” he began, voice hardening. “Long story short, she was obsessed with him. She followed him everywhere, she even broke into our house one night, I mean, this girl was crazy.”

You gasped, turning your head abruptly at Yeosang, who was avoiding eye contact. You had an idea where this was going, you didn’t want to hear the repeated heartbreak for both of them, but you had to because it will help Yeosang move on. You tightened your hold on his hand.

It made sense. It all made sense. The attitude, the melancholy, and the mask. It just made sense. His face was his downfall.

“One day, we were coming home from the arcade,” Wooyoung continued. “Next thing we know, she was trailing us from behind and trying to line herself to the car,” he shook his head bitterly. “She was drunk. One thing led to another, my side of the car hit a pole head on.”

You gasped loudly, covering your mouth with your hands. Anger coursed through your veins, its hot trail going up your brain at the pain that must’ve brought upon everybody. “As you can see, I’m still recovering. Couple of broken bones,” he pointed to his casts. “But I’m fine. I’m alive, aren’t I?”

“It shouldn’t have happened at all,” Yeosang gritted his teeth. “I should have been careful, I should’ve just driven faster, I should’ve,” he paused, sniffling, rubbing his eyes to stop the tears from falling. “If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt, Wooyoung. You lost your baseball scholarship because of me.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Wooyoung shook his head. “It’s her fault, Yeosang. It was never yours, it’s high time you stopped blaming yourself.”

Yeosang buried his head on the crook of your shoulder and neck, his other arm wrapping completely around your shoulders until he was fully hugging you for his own comfort. You and Wooyoung looked at each other and you couldn’t help but admire the man. The accident should have deterred him, but no, he still looked like a bright and cheerful person. Jung Wooyoung was stronger than anyone you know.

Wooyoung lifted his hand, trembling, wanting to reach out to his brother, but he put them back down. “You already gave up your dreams of being an idol because of this, because of that bitch,” he whispered bitterly. You were taken aback at the animosity, but you couldn’t blame him. “How much more of yourself are you going to take?”

Wetness hit your neck, but Yeosang made no sound. You respected it even though you wanted him to just let it out completely. You smoothed his hair out, whispering sweet nothings in his ear and letting him know that you were here for him. You wanted to cry with him, he has been through so much and you never knew.

“A little birdie did tell me to forgive myself,” he chuckled, sniffling a bit before chuckling lightheartedly. 

You blushed again when Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows playfully at you. Yeosang pulls apart from you to lean down to hug his brother. It was then that you all knew that that weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, that the ghost of his past was finally leaving him to be the person he once was slowly, but surely.

“Mum and dad had never blamed you, and neither did I,” Wooyoung closed his eyes, rubbing Yeosang’s back. “We’ll heal together, okay?”

Campus was fascinating, to say the least. You had stayed over Yeosang’s penthouse the entire weekend. You couldn’t bear to leave him after that, but right now, you kept adjusting your sweater because makeup wasn’t enough to cover the hickeys that littered your collarbone and your chest.

After much deliberation, Yeosang had decided to ditch the mask. You assured him that whether or not he wore it would not change anything about your relationship, but all he gave you was a small smile and a reassuring peck on the lips.

“I have you now, I have no reason to wear it anymore,” he said. “Plus, it was getting difficult to wear it, anyway. I don’t know why I even started.”

One thing you were excited about, however, was being in the car with him to spend more time with him since you only had one class together. Luckily, both of your classes started in the afternoon, so you had time in the morning to go on a small date.

“Nervous?” You asked him, holding his hand as he stared out at the parking lot of the campus. “We should have taken my car, it’s a little more laidback.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I’ve been hiding who I am for a while and to be quite frank, there’s only a lot of smack talking I can take, and plus,” he smirked, opening the car door and swinging his legs out. “You’re with me. . I refuse to let you get dragged in this shit.”

You were proud of Yeosang, even though he was slightly nervous, you could tell that he was at least trying. Everyone started to stare, you two were definitely eye-catching. You weren’t the most well-known student, but everybody did recognize you for being a friend of not only Jongho and Yunho, but also Hongjoong. 

Yeosang, however, nobody has ever seen him before. You were slightly peeved, it wasn’t that much of a secret that Yeosang was definitely attractive, subjectively and objectively. His jawline was defined, his eyes brighter and more expressive now, and overall, he just looked free.

The closer you got to the crowded places, the more heads turned. Eyes after eyes following your every move, wondering who the handsome man with you was and whether he was a student or just someone you’re with. Yes, people did stare. It was hypocritical and you couldn’t help but get mad, now that Yeosang was more pleasing to their eyes, they chatter with excitement?

“Relax, princess,” Yeosang chuckled, pushing your head towards his so he could plant a small kiss on your forehead. You smirked at all the ‘aww’ and ‘damn’ in the background. “You’re like a little cat with its fur standing up.”

He opened the door to the library for you with a small chuckle and suddenly, his eyes shone with nostalgia. He smirked at you, this was where everything had started, and right now, he was silently making fun of you when you were still technically stalking him back then when you had a crush on him.

Hongjoong smiled brightly at you when you and Yeosang approached the table. “Hey, Y/N. What’s going on?”

You sheepishly gave him the book that you had borrowed from before and avoided eye contact with him when he raised his brows so high, it almost reached his hairline. Even Yeosang was trying not to laugh beside you.

“Y/N, this is the same book from months ago when you were trying to butter up to Kang Yeosang,” Hongjoong muttered, scoffing in disbelief and amusement. “Holy crap, I have to see what your penalty fee would be.”

You didn’t care. You were embarrassed to the high heavens, especially when Yeosang started to put his knuckles in his mouth to stop himself from bursting out laughing. “Yeah? I wonder how that went,” he asked, adding salt to your wounds.

“Oh, you should’ve seen her,” Hongjoong grinned. “She had such a massive crush on the guy, it was hilarious,” he shook his head before clearing his throat. “Sorry about that. Would you like to return a book or borrow one, yourself?”

“I’ll borrow the same book, if you don’t mind,” Yeosang pointed at the Machiavellian book absentmindedly. “I promise to return it on time.”

You hissed at him, actually sounding like a cat, in annoyance. Hongjoong laughed and nodded. “Of course,” he gave Yeosang the logbook and a pen like he did to you before when you borrowed the book, yourself. “I just need you to write your name here.”

“Oh, no need,” Yeosang brushed off. “My name should be in the book. Kang Yeosang.”

“Ah, I see—what?” Hongjoong said before doing a comical double-take with his eyes bulged out from its sockets. It was your turn to smirk and look at him in amusement. He looked at Yeosang up and down with a huge smile. “Holy shit, man, you look amazing! I love the coat on you.”

Yeosang was genuinely surprised. At first, he didn’t know how to react and it made you smile. He was still getting used to genuine compliments and you found it adorable. “Hongjoong was one of the people who didn’t judge you,” you supplied. 

“Thank you,” your boyfriend’s cheeks were tinted pink.

Class wasn’t any better either. Instead of sitting by the corner like he usually did, Yeosang sat beside you proudly. Those who had been there before you came had either looks of curiosity or awe. The two of you couldn’t help but giggle. Soon enough, the class started to fill up, and then Yunho came to sit beside you like he usually did.

“You,” he seethed, giving you a pointed look. You sheepishly looked back. “You went MIA on both Jongho and I, you owe us for making you worry the whole week!”

He notices who was beside me and does a double look before bowing a little. “Ah, hello, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” Yunho juts his hand out respectfully. “Jeong Yunho.”

Yeosang gives me an amused look before he smirks. “But you have seen me before, do you not remember?”

“W-well, no, I don’t think so,” Yunho frowned, his face contorting into confusion before his eyes widened like Hongjoong’s and his mouth dropped open. “Wait, hold on—”

You giggled into your hands, it was so amusing to see your friends’ reactions to Yeosang so far. Yunho’s rant got cut off when Professor Choi entered the room along with Professor Park behind him in tow. You will admit, your two professors were both attractive and you have confessed once or twice to Yeosang that you had a crush on Professor Choi at one point.

There was a third person who trailed behind them and it made you and Yunho snort in amusement. It was Jongho. He didn’t make a point to look at anybody except the professors so he didn’t notice you and Yunho.

“I have Professor Park Seonghwa with me to judge everybody’s performance with me,” Professor Choi gestures to the latter, his dimpled smile swooning everybody present. “I’m hoping for something wonderful today,” he then gestured to Jongho next. “We also have our winner from last semester judging you all.”

You had totally forgotten about that part. Jongho did a solo the other semester. It was the reason why only you and Yunho had been in this class since Jongho was exempted.

Yunho elbowed you amidst all the chatters, droning the Professors’ explanation. “Fucking hell, Y/N, that’s Yeosang?” Yunho whistled in awe. You nodded and he snorted. “I knew it, I damn well knew he’d be attractive, but holy hell, are you sure that’s him?”

“I’m pretty sure I know who my boyfriend is,” you giggled.

You almost felt bad for Yunho, who seems to be going through an internal mental crisis. “Boyfriend? Since when?” 

Coincidentally and unluckily for him, Yunho was cut off when his name and Mingi’s were called. He seemed to forget what he was inquiring about and stood up to go. Mingi passed the both of you and smirked before greeting you.

“Wish us luck,” he chuckled. He waved slightly. “What’s up, Yeosang?”

And then he went with Yunho towards the front. Your boyfriend frowned, taken aback by Mingi’s sudden greeting. “How the heck does he know?” Yeosang murmured in surprise. He had always assumed that the campus jock was a massive asshole.

“Hell, if I knew,” you shrugged. “We barely practiced for this thing, ugh. I’m saying goodbye to those benefits now.”

After the camera had been set up by Professor Park, Yunho and Mingi began to introduce themselves towards it. You had totally forgotten that this will be a recorded performance for submission and future referrence. You clutched Yeosang’s hand nervously and he squeezed back.

You weren’t surprised at Yunho’s skills. He occasionally went to a dance studio and had even dragged you and Jongho with him at one point. However, you were definitely taken aback at Mingi’s deep and raspy voice when he started rapping. What’s more is that the guy could dance too. You groaned, you and Yeosang were definitely done for.

When Yunho went back, he looked genuinely happy, and you couldn’t help but beam at him and be happy for him, too. Even Yeosang gave him a friendly pat in the back as a congratulatory gesture.

By then, it was pretty obvious that Yunho and Mingi would win and be exempted for the next semester. Not that the others weren’t good, in fact, there were a couple of close calls. Dancing and acting seemed to be the norm and since nobody except Mingi had rapped, theirs was remarkable.

“L/N Y/N? Kang Yeosang?”

When your names were called, you suddenly felt like your legs had become like lead. Jongho looked up so fast, you were surprised his neck didn’t crack from the whiplash of looking up at your direction as if he knew you were there the entire time. His hold on the pen loosened as he stared at Yeosang in bewilderment as he started to walk down with you.

“What the fuck?” Jongho mouthed at you, perplexed at what he was seeing. You shrugged and gave him a small wink.

At first, it didn’t hit everyone - especially since a handsome man was walking towards the front of the class with you and they were expecting a masked freak. You had to control your oncoming anger, it was easy to get it misplaced since you were in a position where you could give everyone a piece of your mind, but you didn’t want to embarrass Yeosang further.

“Uhm,” Professor Park cleared his throat to mask his own surprise. “You are Yeosang, correct?”

Your boyfriend nodded, showing his campus identification card. “I think so, yeah,” he joked lightheartedly. 

All hell broke loose after a small pause. Gasps of surprise, whispers and murmurs of your fellow students all talking about Yeosang, the boy who wore a mask and who everybody called weird or eccentric, but that was long gone by now. There was a small tinge of pink on his cheeks at all the attention but when he looked at you, he knew that everything was alright.

“What will you present to us?” Professor Choi tentatively asked as he started to tinker at the recording camera. He set his wise eyes on Yeosang before lowering his voice, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “We would have given you a fair grading even if you chose to wear your self-expression.”

Yeosang gave the professor a genuine smile, going forward to grab two microphones from a still puzzled Jongho. “Thank you,” he uttered. He gave you one mic before turning again. “Uhm, we're performing a song.”

Professor Choi lifts a surprised brow while Professor Park nods, glee evident on his face. “Ah, we haven’t had anybody sing for us yet,” the former supplied. 

“Are you going to be okay? I’m worried for you,” you whispered to him truthfully amidst all the murmurs that were going around the room. 

“I’m still used to this,” he reassured. “Former idol, remember?”

The moment the music started, Yeosang lost his soul into the rhythm. You guys had decided long ago that he’d sing all the main parts while you remained as harmonies. You were proud of  him and you can see that it felt good for him, his voice elevated your soul like it was your catharsis.

You were still annoyed at all the swoons he was receiving, but you decided to ignore it for now and tamped down your jealousy, not when Yeosang was releasing the emotions he’s held within himself for a while now.

But what surprised you was not only was everyone, including Yunho and Mingi, swaying to the rhythm of Yeosang voice, but someone else’s voice had joined to harmonize with you. You looked at Jongho in surprise and it was his turn to wink at you. Yeosang patted Jongho’s shoulder as the three of you filled the room with your voices.

You weren’t sure if that was okay, but everyone went along with it. Soon enough, everybody was singing along with the two of you. Yeosang’s voice faltered and your quick thinking decided to take over for a few seconds so he could contain himself. He held your hand for comfort, this meant a lot to him, but Jongho comically pulled your hands apart, his eyes widening in a ‘no’ stance.

And soon enough, it was over. Just like when Professor Park picked who your partners would be, your performance was also the last for the day. Cheers along with loud claps surrounded the entire room and Professor Choi had to calm everybody down to not disrupt the neighbouring classes, but even he was pleased with the outcome.

“I think it’s safe to say who gets the prize, isn’t it?” Professor Park cleared his throat to hide the smirk that was threatening to spread all over his face. 

It was all surreal. Another good thing happened next and Professor Park also announced that Yunho and Mingi were to be exempted as well since their performance was unique on its own. The four of you shared a wide grin with one another, and before you knew it, your classes for the whole day were also exempted, courtesy of Jongho’s smooth-talking so the four of you could hang out.

“Fuck, man, I didn’t know you could sing like that!” Mingi exclaimed as the five of you started to walk to the parking lot. Since classes were still ongoing, you were free to do and say anything you wanted. “You should be an idol, or something.”

Yeosang put his arm across your shoulder and pulled you closer.  “I should’ve, shouldn’t I?” He grinned. Then, he cleared his throat. “You guys, uh, don’t care to be associated with me, or something?”

“What do you mean?” Mingi frowned, genuinely puzzled. “Do you not like us?”

“N-No! I mean, it’s not that,” Yeosang blanched, making you snort and laugh after. Before he could explain himself, Mingi, ever the people person, slaps Yeosang’s back playfully.

But Yeosang wasn’t the one surprised, it was Mingi. “Woah.” he blurted out. “Your back muscles, you work out too?! Say, mind if I call another friend of mine? I think he’d like to hang out, too.”

You blushed at the imagery that suddenly popped in your head. Yunho gags jokingly while waving his hands in front of him. “Oh, God, I did not want to know about that in your eyes, Y/N,” he barfs. “Also, you have a number one fan now, Yeosang—”

“Sure,” you glared at Yunho before turning to Mingi. “Depends on who's the friend though—”

“Ya! Song Mingi, what the hell did you want?!”

You all turned to the loud source of the voice and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud at Hongjoong who was marching towards your group with a menacing look, until his eyes went to Yeosang again and he snorted in amusement.

“I will never get over what your face looks like. Are you sure you’re not a model?” Hongjoong waved. “Anyway, Mingi texted me to come here.”

Everyone looked at the gentle giant, who was rubbing the back of his neck. “I may or may not have texted him already to come here…”

Yeosang was surprised again when Hongjoong slapped his back like an old friend does when they see them. “So where to? I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been so burnt out by this university thing,” he rolled his eyes. He sees Yeosang’s hold on you and raises a brow. “Woah, are we interrupting something?”

“Maybe,” you replied cryptically.

“Are you guys together or something?” Jongho blurted out, twirling his car keys on his finger. Leave it to Jongho to be blunt as always.

Yeosang possessively wraps an arm all over your waist from behind and plants his chin on your shoulder. You laughed sheepishly at everybody’s bulged out eyes while Yunho started cackling loudly. “It kinda just happened,” you chuckled.

Yeosang looks at Jongho, who had his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You gonna do something about it, dad?” He joked, making everyone laugh.

Jongho rolled his eyes dramatically, pinching his nose bridge. “Not only do we have to deal with all the crazy energy this group will have in the future,” he stared pointedly at an excited Mingi, who was shaking Yunho’s collar. “But we also have to deal with you two eye-fucking each other constantly. Spare me the drama, please.”

Suddenly, Jongho and Yeosang stared at each other, a million emotions written in their eyes. You nudge your boyfriend closer to Jongho, giving him a reassuring nod. He shyly rubs the back of his neck before turning to everybody.

“Uhm, I’d love to have company in my place,” he began, causing Jongho to raise a brow. “I’ll send everybody the address, it’s only a fifteen minute drive from here.”

You were proud of Yeosang since he was trying to branch out of his comfort space and trying to let people in now so he could move forward and not get stuck in the past where he was all alone. 

“You’re you again,” Jongho mumbled softly, sighing. “Can’t say I miss when you were stuck up and walked around like everybody was going to jump on you. You were a major dickhead, Sangie.”

Before Yeosang could reply, he turned to the rest of the group, who were already planning what to do and who should bring the snacks and stuff. “Uh, go ahead and drive on without us,” he gestured to himself and Jongho.

He turned to you with a small, serene smile. You could have cried, he didn’t even need to say anything, he looked so much happier from when you first met him when he threatened you at the library. “You go ahead without me, princess—”

“Princess,” Hongjoong blabbered out, his delight evident in his tone while the other started to jokingly and openly mock you both for being too sweet.

“I have a score to settle with this brute—” he tried to continue.

“I’m literally right here,” Jongho counteracted, holding his hand to his chest as if he was offended.

You hopped and kissed Yeosang in front of everybody, which resulted in a hilarious ruckus before pulling away and dragging Yunho away so you could get in the car with him. You looked back at your boyfriend, subtly giving him a thumbs, mouthing ‘I’m proud at you’ before completely turning around.

Both Yeosang and Jongho watched as everyone’s car started to peel out of the parking lot one by one underneath the red setting sun of the sky. It painted such a beautiful picture and it set the mood for what was about to come.

Yeosang had a small sense of dread woven into his nervousness. To be fair, it would have been odd if he wasn’t nervous, this was the first time he was talking to Jongho after he had pretty much ghosted him for months, disappearing on him like he did with Wooyoung.

“Listen,” he started, his anxiety through the roof. “I know you’re mad and you have the right to be, but I want you to know that I’m very sorry.”

It was now or never, his relationship with Jongho was on the line. He loved you, but he can’t just turn his back completely to the other person he grew up with. Jongho sighed, the sound of it harsh and unwelcoming.

“I am, I still am,” the latter huffed out. Yeosang hated it, but he understood why. “At least you know how to grasp the situation and you’re not in denial anymore. You piss me off so damn much, you know?”

“I understand,” he breathed out, kicking a nearby pebble off of the ground onto nowhere in particular. This was it, he thought, he had lost Jongho forever.

However, he wasn’t expecting a nudge on the shoulder and a friendly ruffle of his hair. He groaned, as self-deprecating as he was with his appearance, he hated his hair being messed  up, and Jongho knew that.

“You’re a goddamn fool,” Jongho shook his head after. He choked out a laugh from his chest. “I’m mad at you for doing this to yourself. I’m mad at you for blaming yourself even though it wasn’t your fault. I’m mad at you for letting those assholes bully you and bring you down.”

“But mostly of all,” Jongho spoke in finality. “I’m mad at you for not letting me help and be there for you when you needed it the most.” 

And with that, Jongho finally smiled, his teeth and gums all baring out like the sunshine for him to see. Finally, the last burden off of his shoulders and chest was finally being lifted away. They both laughed out loud as they both got into their cars, which were coincidentally parked next to each other.

“So, you and Y/, huh?” Jongho smirked, the playfulness that Yeosang knew him to have back on his face. How he missed it so. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, hopping into the driver’s seat and rolling the window down so he could still talk to Jongho. “She’s changed me, you know? I mean, I could tell you all the details—”

“Spare me,” Jongho groaned, honking to stop him from talking. “I get it, but I don’t wanna know all the juicy details of your relationship. Just don’t hurt her, or you’ll get a taste of this.”

He lifted his fists up in the air, waving them around comically and causing Yeosang to laugh out loud so much, his tummy and his sides started to ache and cramp up. This was it, this was all he needed. How had he been such a fool to let all of this go? Suddenly, your face popped up in his mind, and he smiled. He vowed to make you happy, for you had given him so much without knowing and asking for anything in return.

“Where to?” Jongho asked after he turned his car on, the sound of the engine being the background noise of it all. It was so fitting.

“You know my dad’s penthouse? The one near yours?”

Jongho’s eyes bulged out. “That’s where you’ve been staying? Fuck, I should’ve known,” he shook his head. Suddenly, he turned to Yeosang with an impish smirk, the delinquency in his face palpable and hard to miss. “Like the old times?”

Yeosang didn’t get it at first, until Jongho revved his engine, smoke coming out of the exhaust at a faster rate, and he laughed, revving his own engine competitively with a grin. When they were younger, they would race each other anywhere - the streets, a dirt road, anywhere. It wasn’t legal, by all means, because they really were young at one point.

“Loser buys dinner for the entire crew?” Jongho chided, his laughter filling the air.

It was contagious and Yeosang went ahead and pressed on the gas. “Deal.”

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

[the-travelling-witch]

thinking about a spider-man au with childe

you’ve had a crush on ajax basically since the first day of college. he’s funny and witty, surprisingly smart for his jock aesthetic and -let’s face it- very hot. all of which is contrasted by the way he fumbles through a conversation with you, an air of clumsy yet innocent charm about him.

and then you’re walking home late at night. an arguably questionable decision that ends with you coming face to face with a criminal you’ve seen on tv before. but just as you’re contemplating your options, your heart leaping out of your chest, you’re being swooped up and into the strong chest of the uprising hero people have been whispering about in the hallways.

all of a sudden, high above the city skyline, your heart is pounding for a whole other reason as the guy tries calming you down. he sets you down not far from your apartment and you thank him profusely, to which he merely assures you not to worry about it.

as you fall into bed that night, you can’t stop thinking about the way his muscles moved beneath you, how melodic and familiar his voice was. when you try to imagine what he looks like underneath the mask, somehow blue eyes and ginger hair come to mind but you shake it off as your brain conflating your college and celebrity crush.

meanwhile, ajax is sitting on the edge of a building, dragging a hand down his face as he tries to regulate his heartbeat. going over his conversation with you again, he mentally kicks himself for basically anything and everything he said. seriously, would he ever not fumble while talking to you?

[tigersharkapologist]

Septimius Geta and Septimius Caracalla Headcanons

headcanons for these dorks because if I dont put this out there I’ll explode, also some au things in here⊹ ࣪ ˖

TW: mentions of child abuse and murder 𓃦

Geta 𓃭

- oh the angst on this one

- He grew up very insecure about his complexion, namely his hair. Not many in Rome were born ginger. He’d get compared to the barbaric tribes they were taking over.

- A lot of the elders would whisper about he and his brother being a bad omen from the gods.

“The last time we had an emporer who bore a fire branded mane, Rome was burning while a fiddle played.”.. they would say..

- He and his brother heard the stories of such evil rulers as bed time stories told by their mother, Julia.

- It was tradition for every heir to the throne to hear these in hopes that it would scare them into growing, well, not evil.

- Yeah this just gave them nightmares, caracalla frequently sought his brother for solace, wailing that one of the “vile ones” (past not so great sadistic emperors) was under his bed.

- Geta’s favorite snack is Enkhytoi!

- He and his brother would frequently raid the Head Chef’s kitchen for the sweet pastries.

- They were seldom caught in action, but you could always tell it was them due to the lingering scent of honey and the obvious crumbs on their faces.

- Geta did not care for roughhousing, but he LOVED exploring the outskirts of Rome when Pater and Mamma werent looking.

- He would, of course, bring Caracalla with him on these little adventures, but he usually had to be the cautious one since Caracalla would frequently stray too close to something dangerous.

- Speaking of Pater, they would frequently avoid their father, Emperor Septimius, to the best of their ability. He was scary, mean, and had a temper that would rival mars’ if the twins so much as looked weak.

- Geta was frequently name called “Maculosus” by his peers, as it wasn’t uncommon for him to be riddled with bruises on his arms and chest.

- These bruises are large, not made by tiny fists. It was very clear to those that saw his bruises that they weren’t made by his twin.

- The earliest these marks appeared on Geta and his twin were the age of 9.

- The Praetorian saw these bruises, time after time without fail. They did not like it. Not one bit.

- Anyway! Geta and Caracalla were uneducated in arts, sciences and mathematics. Very strange for up and coming rulers. Mamma and Pater were very neglectful in this aspect (as well as many others).

- Geta and Caracalla grew up longing and seeking for relationships that would fill their mommy issues specifically. (you can see why none of them worked out). They both use indulgence as a way to cope.

- His favorite animals are lions, all big cats (known to Roman knowledge), really.

- He has a “pet” lion named Mel. Mel is an undefeated champion in the Colosseum. He’s constantly pampered and overfed. Kinda chunky but that’s how Geta likes him. Sometimes, when Caracalla allows it, Mel gets to sleep in their room.

- Geta was a peanut allergy kid but grew out of it.

Caracalla 𓃸

- oh the angst on THIS one.

- favorite animals are monkeys and apes. Hence, Dondas.

- neurodivergent

- Dondas was given to Caracalla at the age of 15 and has stuck with Caracalla his whole life.

- Dondas is a comfort creature for Caracalla. She can tell when Caracalla is entering or is in one of his episodes and her presence alone is enough to comfort her hurting owner.

- Caracalla feels immensely guilty and angry towards Geta for his sacrifices. Geta, almost every time their Pater entered one of his rampages, took the hits meant for him (this is canon so not really a headcanon but still)

- Caracalla feels like he owes Geta something and he hates it. Many times he wishes it was him that took the blows, not Geta.

- Due to the pressures of the time, being protected in such a way instead of receiving the strikes himself made him feel “less manly” and weaker than his brother. He came to resent Geta instead of their abusive father.

- if I didn’t list stockholm syndrome before—the stockholm syndrome on this one somebody help him

- To protect himself, Caracalla’s mind has completely forgot all of his childhood (except the beatings and the—albeit rare—good times. This led him associating the good times with the beatings, that they must have done something bad to deserve “discipline”. That their Pater was very loving and cared for them deeply. )

- He developed syphilis at the age of 18 and dimentia two years later.

- He started suffering from lead poisoning at the age of 22.

- He has frequent visits with the medicus and healers. They tended to feel like family the more he went. They genuinely cared about his wellbeing, how strange. This was nice.

- His favorite food is anything from the sea. Snapper, grouper, flounder, if it swims it’s fair game. He also loves shellfish! He has had every type Rome could offer,, except for shrimp, which he has an allergy to. He will refuse to eat anything raw, however. Not for safety precautions—he couldn’t care less—it’s just gross to him.

- Yes, he shares his seafood with Dondas.

- Caracalla takes very good care of his hair! He spends 30 minutes every day preening it. Unfortunately, his efforts are to no avail when it comes to bed heads. He wakes up? Every effort wasted. But at least his bed head is fluffy and not at all crusty. Think highland cow.

- Another insecurity? Acne. He’s extremely insecure about it and hates the way it looks and feels. It hurts sometimes.

- He’s had acne his whole adult life, it just won’t go away.

- Back to his hair, like Geta, he’s insecure about its color. Even when many women have insisted that they thought it was gorgeous, with its red and gold hues, he still didn’t feel any better about it.

- Caracalla and his brother like to wear extravagant and expensive clothing to distract from the hair. They often wear their laurels for the same purpose (also they just think it looks awesome—it does).

- On a side note, Caracalla and Geta are terrified of the Praetorian. Yes, their very sworn protectors that are here only to serve them. The guard does a pretty good job, and the twin emperors have used them when necessary (for example when they almost got shot by a stray arrow)! But they both just cant shake the feeling that the Praetorian have it out for them (they do not). Though they would never admit it, the two see themselves as some of the worst emperors Rome has seen (the worst they’ve done is spend millions in tax payer money to fund for their Golden Parties and daily extravaganzas, not to forget the gladiator fights), and the Praetorian are notorious for taking out such emperors.

- They’re literally not that bad, there have been LEAGUES worse than them.

- Caracalla often has staring contests with random Praetorians to like? assert dominance I guess? A sort of “hey!! Im not afraid of you!! yes I am someone hold me.” The guards dont get scared by it they just get immensely concerned and confused as to why one of their emperors is death staring them into oblivion. It actually freaks them out so I guess the staring works.?

- As you can see the two have major paranoia issues.

- He commissioned a local carpenter to make Dondas a mini palace. Yes, he paid with tax money 💀

- He wishes he could spend more time with Geta. He’s usually out partying and indulging, but Medicus’ orders have put a restriction on him recently.

- He has night terrors often, one specific night terror involved him slitting his brother’s neck with the help of a certain Macrinus. (STOP LET ME HAVE THIS IT WAS JUST A DREAM CARACALLA KILLED GETA IN A DREAM THERE IS NO SEVERED HEAD SHUT UP SHUT UP Cries Sobs Vomits Throws Up Pees My Pants)

- Caracalla wants a mom

- Caracalla can sing very well! It’s a talent that very few know of—even his brother doesn’t know

- Impatient with himself and others

- Was accused of being the murderer of his father (he is not and actually heard his father’s dying cries at the age of 16, he was a floor above the murder. He was heavily affected by said murder. Geta was not.)

- Deep fear of dogs and anything resembling canidae features. He tried to order the removal of any and all Capitoline Wolf statues but was denied due to it being an integral part of Roman culture.

- The two above are related

[pretzel-box]

REVERSE AU MASTERLIST HERE

PART 7 : A cure so sweet

Tags: Reverse AU, Fluff, Established Relationship, Lots of cute interactions, sick sebby

Words: 1,3k

If Sebastian hated one thing above all, it was feeling sick. That strange, sickly sensation would settle deep in his bones, weighing down his every movement. His nose constantly ran, and sneezes came out of nowhere, only adding to the misery. Hiding from monsters in a deadly facility was already hard enough, but being sick made it almost unbearable.

Fortunately, he had you—a brilliant partner with a shop filled with a strange assortment of junk, some of it actually useful.

"Aw, come here, Sebastian!" The moment he stepped in, you pulled him into the warmth of your shop. Several heaters hummed along the walls, and Sebastian already knew you’d make him settle in his usual spot, close to one of them.

Sebastian groaned as he slumped into his designated spot near the heater. His head was heavy, and he shivered despite the warmth. You knelt down in front of him as best as you could with a soft, concerned smile, your hands already busy. A blanket appeared out of nowhere (probably pulled out from one of the shelves), and before he could protest, you draped it around his shoulders.

"You're worse than I thought," you teased lightly, brushing his messy raven hair away from his forehead. "You always try to power through it, but not today."

He gave a half-hearted grumble, but leaned into your touch, appreciating the small moments of comfort. "I’m fine," he muttered, but the rasp in his voice betrayed him. "Just need to—"

"Nope." You cut him off, placing a gentle finger on his lips. "Today, you’re resting, no excuses. I’ll handle everything."

Sebastian sighed, but the softness in your eyes melted his resistance. You moved away briefly, returning with a cup of hot tea. "Here, it's ginger. It'll help with your throat. I found it recently in a cupboard down the hall near a break room.”

He took the cup, his fingers brushing against yours. "Thanks," he murmured, taking a sip and wincing at the sharpness of the ginger, but the warmth spread through him, soothing his throat. "You always know what I need."

"I know you better than you think," you said with a grin, settling beside him.

He glanced at you, eyes softening. "I'm lucky to have you."

You leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder. "You always take care of me in the chaos out there. Let me take care of you now."

Sebastian’s lips curved into a faint smile as he closed his eyes, leaning into your warmth. The world outside might be a mess, but in this small shop, with you beside him, he felt a little less broken.

Sebastian let out a long sigh, sinking further into the blanket as you pressed closer to him. The warmth from the heater mixed with the comfort of your touch, and for the first time all day, he felt a bit of the tension leave his body. He placed the half-empty cup of tea on the floor beside him, his hands finding their way to you, pulling a part of you gently onto his lap.

"You know," he whispered, his voice still hoarse, "you make it really hard for me to stay grumpy."

You smiled, shifting so you could wrap your arms around his neck, your noses nearly touching. "That's the plan," you said softly, brushing a light kiss against his forehead. His eyes fluttered shut, the simple gesture easing away the lingering weight of sickness. "I like it when you're all soft like this," you teased, your voice dropping to a quiet murmur.

Sebastian chuckled weakly, his hands slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. "Only for you," he whispered back, his voice low and rough but filled with affection.

The moment hung between you both, thick with the warmth of shared comfort. You leaned in again, this time pressing a tender kiss against his lips. It was slow, gentle—like neither of you wanted to break the moment. He kissed you back, lazy and soft, as if all the energy he had left was reserved just for you.

When you pulled back, your foreheads rested together, and Sebastian's eyes stayed closed, his breathing steady. You shifted slightly, nestling into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck. His arms instinctively tightened around you, his hand slowly tracing circles on your back.

"You know you don’t have to push yourself so hard," you whispered against his skin, your breath warm and comforting.

"I’m used to it," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your hair. "But with you… it’s different. You make me want to slow down. Just… be here."

You smiled against his neck, letting your lips brush against his skin before you placed a lingering kiss there. "Then stay here," you said, your voice tender. "With me."

Sebastian let out a content hum, shifting slightly to pull you even closer. "I think I could get used to this," he whispered, his lips finding yours again in a slow, lingering kiss, as if time itself could pause in the warmth of your embrace.

Sebastian sighed softly into the kiss, his lips barely brushing against yours as he held you close, the warmth between you both making the world outside feel distant. When you finally pulled back, your fingers instinctively moved up to his hair, threading through the soft strands and gently stroking his scalp. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut once more as a content hum escaped his throat.

But then, a small frown appeared on his face as a particular thought hit him too late. He shifted slightly beneath you, as if something was gnawing at the back of his mind. "Hey," he murmured, his voice still raspy. "You should probably keep some distance... I don't want to get you sick."

You paused your gentle strokes, tilting your head to meet his gaze. He looked so torn—worried, even in the middle of all the comfort you'd been giving him. His brow furrowed slightly, like he was already kicking himself for letting you get this close while he wasn't feeling well.

"Sebastian..." you whispered softly, brushing a thumb against his cheek. "You know I don’t care about that."

He opened his mouth to protest, but you silenced him with a gentle kiss—quick, reassuring, filled with all the affection you'd been holding for him. His breath hitched slightly, his hands tightening around your waist, but before he could get another word in, you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes.

"I’m not going anywhere," you said, your voice firm but full of warmth. "You’re stuck with me, sickness and all." You gave him a soft, teasing smile, your fingers resuming their gentle motions through his hair. "Besides, what kind of partner would I be if I didn’t take care of you?"

Sebastian’s face softened, but his concern lingered. "I just… I don’t want you feeling like this," he muttered, his thumb absentmindedly tracing small circles on your hip.

"Maybe I will," you shrugged playfully, "but we’ll deal with that later. Right now, all I care about is making sure you feel better."

His heart swelled at your words, and the way you kept running your fingers through his hair was slowly breaking down his resolve. He leaned his head against your chest, his eyes closing again as he let out a deep breath. "You’re impossible," he murmured, though his tone was soft, affectionate.

You grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "And you love it."

"Yeah..." he whispered, his arms wrapping around you more tightly. "I really do."

For a moment, you both stayed like that—Sebastian curled up in your arms, his worries slowly fading as you held him close, your fingers moving rhythmically through his hair. The warmth between you was more than just physical; it was the kind of comfort only you could give him, a sense of peace that no amount of chaos in the world could take away.

"You’re everything to me, you know that?" His voice was quiet, almost as if he was afraid to say it aloud.

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you gently tilted his head up so you could look into his eyes. "And you’re everything to me," you replied softly, leaning down to kiss him again, slow and deep, as if you could pour all the love you felt for him into that one moment.

Sebastian kissed you back, his worries finally slipping away as he melted into your touch.

It took exactly two weeks till you were bedridden and absolutely sick, crying out loud for your boyfriend.

[punkshort]

Come Fly With Me

Thank you anon for this request!

I'm double dipping and using this as an entry into my own AU August Writing Challenge ❤️

Pairing: pilot!joel miller x flight attendant!reader one-shot

Summary: You and Joel have a little fun in the cockpit.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), competency kink, public sex (kind of?), unprotected piv sex, reference to blow job, light spanking

WC: 2.5K

Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. Welcome on board flight 1092, flyin' from Orlando to Austin. Our flight time today is 2 hours and 40 minutes, but I know a few shortcuts, I'll get us there a little quicker.

You smiled to yourself when you heard the familiar ripple of laughter cut through the plane.

On a personal note, this flight is particularly special for me. My wife is on board today, so if you see her, please don't listen if she tells you 'bout my drivin'.

Captain Miller just got married a few days ago and it was still strange to see the gold band around his finger. It seemed he was struggling with it, too, because you caught him fiddling with it every time you glanced inside the cockpit.

You listened from the galley, doing your checks and making sure everything was locked and secured as Joel announced the temperature, how to operate the systems installed in the seats, and how to call an attendant for help. It was a speech you heard a thousand times.

Finally, he wrapped things up with on behalf of myself and the crew, thank you for choosing us as your airline today. Have a wonderful flight.

You stood at your post with a smile plastered across your face as you watched Marissa and Brian explain to bored looking faces how to engage the floatation device and oxygen masks hidden around each passenger when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You didn't even turn around. You knew who it was.

"Once we're clear, come and see me, sweetheart."

A thrill of excitement slithered down your spine and you tilted your face to the side so you could whisper, "you're a married man, now. We shouldn't be doing that anymore."

"A ring 'round my finger ain't changin' a goddamn thing here."

And then he was gone.

It took nearly an hour. A full hour where you had to do your first round of service, handing out snacks and drinks to people who mostly ignored you and rarely offered their thanks before you brought your cart back to the galley to clean up.

You heard the door to the cockpit open and Frank, the co-pilot, stepped out and stretched. He saw you and smiled, nodded his head, then asked if he could take ginger ale, like always. And your response was always the same.

"You don't need to ask, Frank."

He grinned and gave you a little salute before he did his rounds. Frank was very personable. He enjoyed meeting new people and hearing their stories. When an extrovert has a job where he meets new people every six hours or so, it's a match made in heaven.

And it's especially good for you and Joel because you both know he won't be back for at least half an hour, probably more.

Glancing around to make sure none of the other flight crew saw you, you tapped lightly on the door then slipped inside.

No matter how many times you saw it, and at that point it had to have been hundreds, the cockpit always left you breathless. When you first step in, you're instantly overwhelmed with lights, buttons, levers and monitors. The control panel was absolutely massive and intimidating. And it was one of the things that attracted you to Joel in the first place.

Watching him operate a plane with such ease, hardly even having to think as he went through the motions turned you on from day one. Part of you always thought he knew it, too. From the moment he saw you, he knew he had you in the palm of his hand.

And you loved every second of it, married or not.

"Captain," you said breathlessly, then grinned when he turned around and slid off his headset. The ache between your legs had been steadily growing for the past hour and you were at the point where if he didn't do something about it within the next five minutes, you would take matters into your own hands. Literally.

"C'mere, darlin'. Why don't you sit on my lap?"

He patted his thighs, clad in dark navy blue, same as your skirt, and you giggled before doing as you were told.

He hummed appreciatively and ran his big hands up and down your legs, which were spread wide and straddling him.

"Pretty little thing," he murmured. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and slowly, subtly, began to roll your hips.

"What if someone catches us one day?" you whispered before leaning forward to taste the skin under his jaw.

"Ain't no one gonna catch us," he assured you, dragging his hands up and over your hips to cup your ass and give it a firm squeeze.

You groaned and started to move your hips faster. You could feel his cock stiffening against his leg and you felt yourself clench around nothing. Fuck, you wanted him so badly. Every single time it was like this. Your need for him was never quenched. But still, you enjoyed teasing him from time to time.

"Didn't you just get married a few days ago?"

You felt his hands pause momentarily, leaving your skirt hiked up around your waist but your underwear still on.

"What's your point?"

You smiled and bit gently at his earlobe. "My point is, wasn't your wedding night enough to satisfy you?"

His hands resumed exploring your body and you felt a deep rumble vibrate from his chest.

"You know the answer to that."

And he was right. You did.

The answer was the reason he asked you to come see him in the first place.

Joel slid his fingers past the waistline of your panties, swiping them through your folds with a pained groan.

"Fuck, so wet, baby," he said. Your hips tried to chase his fingers, tried to keep him where you needed him most, but he was too fast.

"You gonna fly this plane and fuck me at the same time, Captain?" you murmured seductively. He smirked and nodded.

With your breath coming in quick little excited pants, you tugged on his zipper while he pulled your panties to the side.

"Need me that bad, huh?" he teased, and normally you might say something smart right back, but on that particular day you wanted him more than usual. Maybe it was the gold band that was catching the sun in just the right way, the thought of him being married now egging you on and making you needier, but whatever it was had the seam between your legs absolutely dripping for his attention.

"Oh!" you cried out, then immediately slapped your palm over your mouth when you first felt him breech your opening. He chuckled and continued to guide your hips down, watching in a trance as you took every inch of him deep within your walls while you whimpered in his ear and tried you best to remain quiet.

"Shh, darlin', I got you," he said softly, his own face pinched as he tried to hold back from slamming up into you. "I got you. Yeah, feel that? Feel how good you take me?"

You nodded because it was true. You could feel your body relaxing and opening for him, happily welcoming him back in.

He gave you a few minutes to adjust. He always did, and you appreciated that. You were always the one who ended up doing most of the work given the small space, so it was the least he could do.

With a sigh, you rested your head on his shoulder and gazed out at the clouds while he gently stroked your back. The view never got old. It felt so surreal every single time, to be staring out at such beauty while stuffed full of his cock. It didn't get much better than that.

He whispered your name, voice sounding strained, and you lifted your head.

"Who's needy now?" you asked with a grin. He bit lightly at your chin and gave one of your ass cheeks a quick slap with his palm, making you jump and giggle before you began to roll your hips over his lap.

Joel's fingers dug into your skin with a sigh, gazing up at you adoringly while you rode him just the way you liked. There was something so fucking hot about him having complete control over the aircraft, hundreds of lives in his hands every single day, but you were the one who had the power over him. You were the one he yearned for, ached for. Since the first day you were assigned to his crew, he couldn't keep his hands to himself. He began to request you specifically be assigned to his flights as much as your schedules would allow, then one day on a particularly long flight you had brought him something to eat without him even asking. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes and you just desperately wanted to take care of him, so you brazenly dropped to your knees and took him inside your mouth while his eyes fluttered closed, the only noises filling the air came from the back of your throat and the tinny voice echoing through his abandoned headset nearby.

The rest was history.

He wondered if getting married might dull his desire for you, but he was foolish to think his feelings could ever change.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he growled when you picked up the pace and began bouncing in his lap, your tits jostling in your navy blue polo. He feverishly yanked the hem of your shirt up so it bunched up over your breasts and he made a pathetic little noise when he saw the white, lacy bra you had on underneath.

"Look at you, filthy thing," he murmured, squeezing at your covered breasts. "Fuckin' a married man like this. But I bet that just turns you on even more, don't it?"

You moaned and tipped your head back, chin aimed at the ceiling of the cockpit. His lips dragged down your throat, tongue shooting out to taste your skin, careful not to leave a mark. He was convinced at least Frank knew what you were doing in here but he didn't need to give the rest of the crew any reason to gossip.

Air traffic control crackled through the radio, checking in like they usually did when the plane reached a new zone.

"Hang on," he told you, so you gripped his shoulders while he leaned forward to pick up the receiver. His thumb hovered over the button to answer when he gave you a look. "Didn't tell you to stop, did I?"

You grinned and resumed fucking yourself on his cock while he pressed down on the button, dropping his voice to sound more professional when he answered the man on the other end. He confirmed his coordinates, his credentials and his flight pattern with ease, all while you circled your hips and ground yourself down, your clit catching on the coarse hair at the base of his cock. You had to bite back a moan when he was talking, the pleasure mounting low in your belly making it difficult not to make any noise.

Finally, he put the receiver back and you moaned his name, your face buried in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound.

"You fuckin' love this, don't you? Love gettin' fucked in here, love the thrill of it, huh?"

"Yes," you whispered, your eyes squeezing shut as you closed in on your release. "Oh, god, Joel - fuck!" you sobbed when he began to lift his hips from his seat, fucking up into you, matching you thrust for thrust, grunting like an animal in your ear each time your hips made contact.

"Lemme feel you, baby. Wanna feel you shake for me," he said through clenched teeth. You gasped and nodded, mustering every ounce of energy you had left to slam yourself up and down on his thick cock, so desperate to come you didn't care if the door flung open and the whole plane saw what you were doing.

"Tell me how it feels, honey," he said. He must have been close, too. You've done this enough times to know he likes hearing you talk dirty to him right when he's about to come.

"Feels so good," you began, "you always fuck me so good. No one else has - shit - n-no one else has ever... oh, god, Joel," you whined, losing focus when your vision began to blur.

"Don't stop," he begged, his thrusts becoming sloppy. "Keep talkin', baby, please."

"Will you come inside me?" you whispered, your teeth scraping against your lower lip, turning the skin raw. "Wanna feel you inside me the whole flight. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," he gasped, forehead beaded with sweat, face flushed and jaw slack. "Yes, yes, yes... fuck! C'mon!" he groaned, slapping your ass a little harder than before.

You kept babbling, telling him how big he was, how badly you wanted him, how no one else has ever fucked you as good as he does when your voice caught in your throat and you came around his cock with a strangled moan.

He didn't hold back. He circled his arms around your waist and fucked up into you recklessly, your cunt pulsing around him while your chest heaved and your fingers clawed at his shoulders, trying to ground yourself through your high.

At the last second he pressed his face against the side of your neck, pinning you against his chest. He moaned, his mouth falling open when he came, not caring how loud he might have been. It felt too fucking good to feel himself fill you up, feel his hot spend pooling and dripping down his length while he weakly pressed into you, prolonging his orgasm as best he could before his limbs went weak and he sighed against your chest.

You were cooing in his ear, telling him how good he did, how full you were, fucking thanking him while his shoulders sagged and a shiver ran down his spine.

"Can't get enough of you," he whimpered. You grinned and kissed the top of his head before lifting yourself off his lap. He helped you slide your underwear back in place, the fabric immediately soaking with your combined release while you fixed your polo and stood up.

"Shit, my skirt's gonna be wrinkled," you muttered while he tucked himself away and zipped up his pants.

"Next time we'll just have to take it off," he teased, making you giggle and playfully swat at his shoulder.

"Next time? What would your wife have to say about that, Captain?"

He rolled his eyes and grabbed your left hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips. He silently appraised the two rings nesting on your finger with a pleased smirk before letting you go.

"I don't know, you tell me."

You leaned forward and placed a soft kiss against his lips, lingering for an extra moment before pulling away.

"She'd say she can't wait."

Please follow @punkshort-notifs and turn on notifications for fic updates ❤️

[littlelewdmable]

Jaune The Ginger Whisperer Part 16: Dirty Movie Night

Jaune: Okay, team movie night.

Nora: What movie are we watching?

Ruby: Terminator 2.

Nora: Huh, not what I was expecting.

Pyrrha: I've never had a movie night with friends before.

Jaune: I used to with my sisters from time to time.

Nora: You know what's my favorite part of movie night?

Jaune: The snacks?

Nora: A close second, but my favorite is *Sits on Jaune's lap* Sitting on Jaune's lap!

Pyrrha: Oh, I might have to try that next time.

Ruby: Me too!

Nora: *Not even trying to hide the fact she's just straight up grinding her ass on Jaune's cock* It's the best.

Jaune: ...This is going to be a long movie.

[notmaplemable]

New Upload Schedule

Not for here, just for the long fics.

I'm moving to a new schedule for uploads, in that I'll actually have a schedule. Though it will be a fairly soft one for now. So I might be a day or two late for a chapter.

Arc-Noire - Every fourth week - Next chapter: May 13th

Ghosts of Summer - Every second week - Next chapter: May 20th

Ginger Whisperer - Every fourth week - Next chapter: May 27th

[howlingday]

Ginger whisperer au. This whole thing has been a wonderful mix of wholesome, funny and sexy and is currently the highlight of my days. Wonderful work!

Thank you! It's great to receive feedback for all of our hard work! I hope we can keep entertaining you for many more stories to come!

Ginger Whisperer AU is a RWBY AU made by @littlelewdmable and @notmaplemable

[daisystwistedgarden]

mdni. consensual sexual images discussed. college au.

cater diamond is the type to never shut about about the fact that he was lucky enough to fuck you. he won't act pathetic about it in public-- in fact, he's sly and haughty, brazenly slipping in details about that night around his peers and underclassmen, always dancing on the line between too much and not enough detail.

"did you know the prefect has such cute bedhead in the morning?" "oh, listen to how loud they are when they're angry! i know it's not the only time they're that vocal, though~" "the prefect's bed is quite comfortable, especially while they're in it cuddled up against you... how do i know? well, cay-cay spends a lot of time with them, you know."

most of his classmates have started to call his bluff. there's no way he's that close with you. out of all the people you're close with on campus, you'd let cater of all people into your bed?

it comes as a surprise, then, when cater's showing something to ace and deuce on his phone, that he slips up and shows them his home screen while switching between apps.

the background of the image is dark, drawing all focus to the two bodies on screen. cater's over your shoulder, lips on your ear as he whispers honeyed filth to you in the dead of night. ginger strands hang loosely from his usual hairstyle. sweat beads visibly at his hairline. his body is bare and blurry, hinting at movement, as he has you pinned on your stomach and presses into you from behind in a classic prone bone. your shoulder and enough of your face are in the image-- just enough to give your peers a look at the lust-drunk grin on your fucked-out face. it's hot, messy, and a bit blurry. nothing explicit is shown but, well, the image is all too clear in suggesting what must be happening.

maybe it's a simple slip up on his part. maybe it's just enough to get the rumors doubting cater's special relationship with you to stop as your fellow freshman spread the word.

maybe you're just as naughty as him, seeing as your response to the rumors is to send him a simple text.

"i want matching home screens. my room tonight? we'll get the perfect shot this time."

[ginevrapng]

𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐈 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄?

pairing: george weasley x slytherin!reader

word count: 5.2k words

content: no war au, non canon quidditch match, fluff, some angst, insecurities

a/n: this was super fun to write and my first long harry potter fic, hopefully you all enjoy it! hopefully george isn't too ooc in this. i might make a part two of this with smut but i'm not sure yet.

"did i ever tell you how beautiful you are?" spitting out your drink in shock you turn to look at your best friend and see him looking at you, swaying drunkenly. george has definitely had too much to drink tonight. before he can say anything else that you know he'll regret in the morning you cover his mouth with your hand. "honestly george, i leave you alone for an hour to talk to adrian and you get wasted and start sprouting nonsense. normally you're the one stopping me from doing stupid stuff, georgie," you giggle, vowing to make sure you don't get any drunker so you can get you both home safe.

you first met fred and george in potions in your 4th year and it was a rocky start, they didn't like slytherins and you didn't have the time and energy to waste on trying to get people to like you. however that all changed when in one class fred nearly messed up his wit-sharpening potion by putting gurdyroot in instead of ginger root, immediately you grabbed his wrist before he could put it in, straight away scolding yourself for doing such an idiot thing and dropping his hand. normally you wouldn't've minded if someone messed up their work, plus potions was your best class so it'd be less competition but sitting in front of george weasley and then right next to fred it was inevitable you took a liking to their antics, even if you never told them so or even spoke to them.

at the time fred was extremely suspicious, some girl who he'd never spoke to before stopping him from putting in an ingredient. before he could even question it you stated, "it's meant to be ginger root, you've got it wrong." you turned away from him and carried on with what you were previously doing, not wanting to see his reaction, you warned him and he'd do with that what he will. you expected him to not respond but you didn't expect utter silence from his workside. "you can believe me or not, i don't care. don't just do nothing though, snape's going to think you're up to something and it'll distract me when he comes over."

you started to get pissed off at weasley's lack of movement before you heard him not so quietly whisper to george, "oi, what's meant to be in this thing? gurdyroot?" you didn't hear what george said, you're not sure if it was because he was actually quieter or if you were slightly stunned and pleased with the fact he took some notice on what you said and didn't throw away what you said you said completely. in the corner of your eye you saw fred turn back around and almost sounded reluctant as he replied, "shit. urrr thanks.. i guess."

after that day you both took more interest in each other, only talking when having something that needed to be said but that was definitely an upgrade in your relationship. george took notice of this change but others didn't. by the end of your fourth year you talked in potions together all the time, with george joining in by leaning over to talk to you both, cheekily winking at you whenever he caught you looking at him, promptly leading to an eye roll from you and occasionally walking over to you under the guise of needing to get something where you were, leading to many detentions and you vowing to never speak to him again if he distracted you in crucial parts in class. everybody just thought george wanted to talk to fred but they were wrong.

you also listened to their prank ideas, giving impute when you can but mostly just fascinated by everything they were saying. you'd stealthily give them presents for christmas and their birthday and they'd always tease you about it but you'd always be able to tell they liked what you gave them. they also decided to bother you while you studied in the library. to this day you think about shock people must have had when fred and george said they were going to the library for the first time, madam pince probably thought she was going mad when she saw them.

it just turned into a secret, your friendship, you're not really sure how, you just knew that fred and george didn't want people to know about you. you wish you could have said the same but you had no interest in what others thought of you. you were very prideful of your house but you didn't care about your reputation, at those times you wish the twins felt the same. you would like to say it didn't bother you to keep quiet about how you're friends with them but it did, not all the time but sometimes it did get to you. you'd finally found amazing friends and they actually liked you for you and have interest in what you had to say, they were probably the closest friends you had and had ever had. you knew that you kept to yourself and you liked that fred and george somehow managed to get you to open up so being made to never speak to them in front of other people hurt sometimes. you sometimes wondered if you mattered that much in their lives.

that was answered to you after a quidditch match, slytherin against gryffindor. slytherin won by a landslide and for some reason the other team were off their game this time, whatever the reason it was a win to slytherin. you wished you could have cheered on fred and george, they are great beaters but you knew you couldn't have cheered for them, that's okay though because adrian was on the slytherin team and you two have always been close since first year. you were decked out in all green, cheering him on and the rest of the team, house spirit and all, scarf and socks matching, watching them play.

on your way back into the castle you see a small commotion and notice the green robes so you went over there to see an argument between some of the two teams. malfoy spewing rubbish like all ways. more and more people were starting to come over and you knew soon one of the professors would get there, you were not going to lose house points today, especially when you've just won the game and gained house points in return. "the only reason you're still on the slytherin team malfoy is because your father's paying flint's parents to keep you on the team." you heard potter say as you walked up towards them.

you reached your hand out to touch malfoy's shoulder pulling him back. "let's go malfoy, it's not worth it, we just won."

you froze as you heard potter talk to you, he'd never even looked at you before, now he's got it in for you. "who are you, anyway? just some other blood-purist? bet you're so proud of your house cheating." if you were more confident in that moment you would of spoken up, would've told him to shut it, that he knows nothing about you. but you realised everyone is looking at you, slytherins, gryffindors even hufflepuffs and ravenclaws and the twins are behind harry and oh god you felt sick. you tried your hardest to not look the twins in the eye or even in their direction at all. you thought that they're probably disgusted that they ever talked to you. you're nothing like what potter thought you were and everyone who knew you knew that but fred and george never did ask you questions about your beliefs, maybe afterwards they had doubts when potter said that.

you kept your head down and walked away, pushing against people, clearly trying not to cry. you just wanted to get out of there. you found out how much you mean to the twins when george see's your figure leaving, going back to the castle. without much thought about the situation he goes to correct harry, because there was no way in merlin he was going to let someone think that about you. fred beat him to it though, "she really is nothing like that harry." george pushes against everyone as he followed you, catching up with you quickly.

"don't worry about it, harry just doesn't know you."

you couldn't help it, it just came. you were overwhelmed with emotions and frustration you stop momentarily, spun to face him and shout, "that's the whole problem. he doesn't know me! leave me alone weasley, i never want to speak to you again." you walked off quickly, deciding you're done. it's over and you just want to sleep for the rest of the day.

george wasn't too fond of this idea and he catches up with you again. honestly he was slightly taken aback by your outburst, one second he saw you desperately try to stop malfoy from saying anything else due to not wanting to get into trouble and the next second harry made you run off while trying not to cry. he wished that you never saw the fight between them all, he hoped you didn't think ill of him. "please don't go, let's just go wait for fred somewhere, he's probably still fighting with malfoy."

"didn't you hear me weasley, i'm done. i'm not going to be your stupid secret. i don't want to be your bloody friend only when it suits you."

george never meant for you to think that you're a secret and he knew fred felt the same. "i'll fix this." you didn't answer but all you could think was 'no, not this time.'

you did however successfully help deescalate the argument. gryffindor's confusement with how the twins stood up for you left malfoy to throw a couple of snide comments without any reply from them, leading enough time for pansy to notice mcgonagall on her way over and warn all her house that they should leave, including a very worked up malfoy.

"what the bloody hell was that all about?" ron questions fred, everyone else turning to face him thinking exactly the same thing.

"well obviously malfoy was being a git like always."

"you know bloody well that's not what i mean."

"is she who you go see when you 'go to the library'?" ginny asks. "i mean seriously, it's not like i believe you both have suddenly started studying multiple times a week."

fred knew ginny's caught him out but he doesn't know what to say. how would they all react to finding out about you and what if you don't even want anyone in slytherin to figure out your friends with two gryffindors.

"we're friends." fred hears as he turns round to see george had come back. he didn't want for you to feel like a secret anymore. he wonders where you are and questions him. "she said she's going... actually i don't know where."

"is she okay?"

george pauses for a second, "we'll figure something out."

ginny was the only one who didn't have something to say about what they'd all just found out. she had a suspicion something was up, she just didn't know what, she really did not think that it would be something to do with a slytherin though. but everyone else definitely was not taking the news too well. not just a slytherin but someone opening being friendly with malfoy, at least in their eyes that's what it looked like.

every time you saw the twins after that you walked away, doing everything in your power to stay away from them. that did not work for long, as two days after the incident you had charms first period with george. mentally preparing yourself to see him and ignore him no matter what he said or how funny he is, you get out of bed, get ready and leave the common room.

as you left you get the fright of your life. "oh merlin, george! what are you doing lurking about?" your heart racing out due to the jump and still trying to be angry and scold him even though you missed him and fred incredibly so. you see him smirk as he tries not to laugh and you want so bad to wipe that smirk of his stupid face.

"i've come to carry your bag, you always complain that you have to carry to many books on tuesday so i've come to save you, i'm your knight in shining armour! we've got charms." before you can even retort and tell him to go away he's taken your bag and is walking off.

"hey give me my bag back!" he doesn't try to keep in his laugh this time as he then assures you that you'll have it in charms. "i need that bag now weasley, if you remember before class there's normally a little thing called breakfast."

"i did actually forget about that. let's go have some breakfast then." he carried on walking and didn't give you your bag back. you're walking in the halls together and you don't know how to react. not only are you angry at him but now you're confused because what the hell does he think he's doing and why did he suddenly care about you enough to be seen with you.

"stop thinking so much. you know me and fred really care about you and we'll make it up to you. we never wanted you to feel the way you have been feeling. godric i'll even drop a bag of dungbombs in mcgonagall's classroom because i know how much you secretly don't like her. even if you pretend you do, i see your face scrunch up in annoyance all the time when she talks."

you unsuccessfully tried to hide your smile, as you mumble about how you want your bag back and how you wasn't even thinking about that. george relaxes more as he see's you smile, there was always that insecurity that you'd never talk to him again after the quidditch match although fred was so sure you would and told him so and he's so fred was right glad.

right now though at this party fred's on his own this time with getting home. you're pretty sure he was talking to seamus finnigan and neville longbottom last time you saw him anyway so it's unlikely you'll see him again tonight if he's with all gryffindor alumni.

you've found it best to stay away from that lot anyway, as you've only properly met the twins family and harry, and you know they're probably very welcoming people now that they know who you are and the twins want you to properly meet them but you had a hard enough time meeting hermione granger for the first time, you don't want the hassle of going through that all again and even after all these years you know that she still doesn't like you, no matter how close you both are to the weasley family. you remember bursting out crying the first time they invited you to spend the holidays with them at the burrow when they found out you'd be staying at hogwarts that year for christmas.

now george has come to find you he hasn't left your side, not even by an inch, so close together you can feel each others body heat, squished on a small sofa together with your thighs touching. he tries to hold out to you and you're unsure about what he wants to do but lean into his touch anyway. "don't get your drink on my dress or i'll kill you weasley."

he grins and pulls you closer, you're now tucked under his chin, being able to feel his heartbeat. you're already hot from the summer heat and the dancing, but you welcome being so close to him, quickly getting used to the position.

'fred's normally the one who's touchier.' you didn't realise you said that out loud until george pulls you tighter to him, humming back to you.

you both sit together for a minute or two, listening to the party-goers and the music in the background. you could sit there all day with george, doing nothing in particular, just being next to him. just like at hogwarts when it was only you and him, fred's off somewhere else and you'd both sit under one of the oak trees in the shade away from everyone else and play with his hair absentmindedly, reading to him as he closes his eyes and listens. but as you go to sip your drink you hear george say, "i don't like how you and fred always touch each other." you stop moving and draw your hand back down without drinking. he really must have no filter when he's had too much to drink.

"what on earth are you talking about george? you make it sound like we're bloody all over each other. you know we don't have any kind of feelings for each other. plus does it really matter to you?"

you look to him and see his eyebrows furrowed and lips in a tight line. "you are all over each other though." he looks you in the eye while whispering. "and pucey, what's his deal, you know he was a shit quidditch player right?"

you get up to leave, george may be pissed drunk but right now he's pissing you off. you decide you'll cool off and come find him later on to take you both home. that is unless you see him making out in the corner with alicia spinnet. last time he got in a mood like this with you it was at a party in your last year at hogwarts. for some reason george just had so much to drink and started questioning why you spent the night dancing with fred and even started talking about how you went to the yule ball with flint. aware that you were both drunk you didn't want to argue you left to find fred. later when you came to find george after missing him and wanting to forget about the outburst, you saw him snogging alicia spinnet, his hands on her waist and her hands in his hair. just seeing it made you feel sick and overcome with feelings you don't want to confront as you left the party without saying bye to anyone, nearly forgetting the password for the common room as you stumble inside, wanting to forget about the entire night.

this won't be like last time though as before you can successfully make your escape george holds onto your wrist and drags you back down onto the sofa, nearly landing on his lap. with his other hand he tilts your head towards him, so you're face to face and eye level. too flustered and surprised, you don't move. you're so close to each other that you can can smell the firewhisky he's been drinking and the sandalwood shampoo he uses and his cinnamon scented body wash and cologne. you're so close you can count his freckles and you're trying desperately not too think about this. george is your best friend, george weasley is not someone who should distract you from your surroundings because all you can focus on is him.

"the only person who you should be all over is me. not pucey, not fred, not that twat flint that took you to the yule ball, not that bloody ravenclaw who kept eyeing you up in our 5th year, it's me, not them." your eyes widen as george talks softly to you. you're gazing into each others eyes and you don't think you've ever seen george look so nervous in his life. you think his eyes are beautiful, you've always thought that. like he told you he thinks yours are tonight, like how he told you how beautiful in general you are tonight. but right now it's different, he's being vulnerable and trusting you by letting you look, by letting you softly study his features in more detail than you've ever been able to in the past, it's an open invitation into his heart and soul, trying to convey to you how much you mean to him. his chocolate brown eyes are glazed over and you're unsure if it's due to him drinking or if it's because he's telling you how he feels and he's getting emotional. you see crinkles under his eyes from his countless hours of laughing and smiling and pulling pranks. how he's slowing blinking as if his eyelids feel heavy. you wonder what he can see in your eyes and during this moment you can't even begin to recall what your own eye colour is. the warmth of his eyes making you forget your own, you believe they're probably glassy due to what george confessed.

you licked your lips, suddenly finding them incredibly dry, "why?"

george slightly moves his head back further away from you, "why, what?" george didn't know what you would say but he didn't expect it to be a one word question that he's too drunk to wrap his head around to understand. he genuinely did not know where this night was going to go at the beginning but one thing lead to another and in george's eyes you started getting to touchy with someone and then all these words kept tumbling out that he thought he'd never say out loud.

"why you?" you turn your head away slightly, twidling with your fingers.

"thought it was pretty obvious after all i said love." your stomach flips at the name, "i'm mad about you." he looks at you with bated breath, waiting for your response.

"tell me you mean it." george hears your voice shake and as he leans closer to you to try and get you to look at him again he see's tears running down your face, uncontrollably. he's taken aback by seeing you cry and hates that he's the one who caused it, he's unsure of what he should do after but right now he can't help but to draw you into his arms, holding you against his side, placing a kiss on your head and stroking your back. he hears you sniffle and strokes your cheek, wiping away all the tears. "please.. please georgie. tell me you mean it."

"i-i mean it. i've never meant anything more in my life-," george starts to say but you cut him off.

"are you sure? your friends don't like me and what if alicia spinnet comes up to you and kisses you again or asks you out on a date." you whisper, still holding on tight to him. you're insecurities flowing through you.

"well firstly, i have no idea what my mates have to do with how i feel about or why it matters. and secondly..." he trails off as he then realises exactly what you said. george lifts a hand to your face and gently places under your chin tenderly, lifting your face up and facing him. "wait, are you jealous of alicia spinnet?" he studies your face, red eyes still watery and seeing you heat up and pout. he knew he got his answer and became more confident and self-assured. grinning from ear to ear, he says, "i didn't even know you saw that love. we only kissed once." you furrow your eyebrow causing george to chuckle and gently smooth out the wrinkles with his fingertips before kissing your forehead. "you seem bitter, love?" he teases.

you knows he's riling you up for a reaction but that doesn't stop the reaction. now he knows you might share feelings for him nothing will stop him from pressing your buttons in hopes that you'll get fired up and shout at him because he finds that you're so cute whenever that happens and you might even shout out your feelings and tell him how you feel. he might be able to get you to tell him how you feel about him or if it's only you being possessive of your friend after you've had a few drinks but he really hopes that isn't the case.

"weasley if you keep teasing i'm going to be mad at you," you huff. george hasn't stopped grinning though and you want so desperately to wipe that grin off his face, to have the upperhand but you've lost all capability of telling him you feel the same, you have since your fourth year and even now you worry that you aren't good enough, but you remember to before how he was looking at you and what he said about you and how pleased he looks right now and all of that worry goes away for awhile.

you lunge closer to him and close the already small gap between you two and kiss him, momentarily stunning george by your bold attention before he's smirking and kisses you harder, moving his hands so one is tracing patterns on your waist and the other delicately holding your jaw and cheek.

after kissing for so long it feels like your lips might just fall off, you reluctantly break apart, not realises how much you currently needed air until you could get some. "so you like me too, ay?"

you refuse to answer out of being shy and kiss him again, mainly to get him to stop speaking but there is one thing about george and that's after all these years he knows you like the back of his hand, so he doesn't kiss you back to watch you get frustrated, and boy did it frustrate you. you scowl as you look at him, "why'd you do that?"

george tucks some of your hair behind your ear, causing you to shiver at the action and george to smirk at your reaction. he whispers in your ear, "tell me you like me too, love." you want so desperately to hold onto him but he's moving away from you before you even get the chance to. he's looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to crack.

you soon crack, just as george knew you would. "bloody hell, george i am in love with you, alright! so kiss me now!"

"you..you what?" if you were more sober you would have instantly regretted saying that, however as soon as the words came out of your mouth you forgot what you confessed to entirely.

you grab hold of his shirt and pull him closer towards you again. "please, georgie, 'need you." that snaps him out of his thinking as he starts kissing you again, this time less soft as before. he's almost hungry now as he's holding onto you tight, and has started moving down your neck, placing kisses in his wake. you softly moan at the sensation before you're rudely interrupted by whistling.

"oi, get a room you two. it's bad enough to have seen you make heart eyes at each other for the last six years." you've never wanted a strangle fred more and it looks like george is sharing a similar sentiment, as he glares at him across the room.

"lets get out of here sweetheart before i punch him in the face." you giggle and stand up.

"that's awfully violent of you george, i'm meant to be the one that gives threats." you've started to sober up a bit now but lean against him anyway, wanting an excuse to be close.

" 'fraid i've always seen through that. you're not very scary love, i mean you scream every time you see a spider. if i trapped you and dear little ronnikins in a room with a spider, just imagine the chaos." he chuckles as he looks at you fondly and holds your hand while pulling you tighter to him, he sees through your guise of needing help to stand and keep steady but that doesn't stop him from holding on to you, any reason or excuse to hold you and touch you he's going to take it, especially now you're both sobering up.

george steers you through all of the people as you're making your way to the door. "wait georgie, do you need to say bye to everyone?" you stop in your tracks and pull in your hand back a bit.

"nah, doesn't matter." you softly smile and hold tighter onto his hand. you hum and follow him out the door.

as soon as you're out the door you're hit with the winter cold. " 'm cold," you grumbled as george was already taking his jacket off.

"here, love," he replied as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders, giving you extra warmth. "if i knew it was going to be this cold i'd have brought a scarf." he wraps you up in his arms, slinging his arm around you and sharing body heat, making in difficult to move quickly but appreciating the warmth.

"don't know why we couldn't apparate out of there, bloody annoying if you ask me." you complain.

he laughs as you make a fuss. "there were muggles there."

"what the bloody hell were muggles doing there?"

"careful, love, you're starting to sound like malfoy," he responds playfully, causing you to lightly hit his shoulder and pout.

"you know what i mean. how does he know muggles?"

"dunno honestly, but on the brightside i get to walk home with a pretty girl." you pinch his arm softly to silently tell him to quit it, getting a laugh out of him.

"there's no 'brightside', it's night. plus i'm just pretty?" you feel the need to tease him like he's been teasing you as george always wins in this kind of thing, never failing to make you shy and flustered.

"oh no, not just pretty. the most beautiful person in the world." he tells you without missing a beat. in response you kiss george's cheek, pleased and feeling fuzzy at what he said and you both walk together in comfortable silence.

"so you're in love with me," he remarked. you can hear his grin. the cogs turn in your brain as you remember what you told him.

you keep your head forward even though you want to turn away, and silently thank how you're still slightly tipsy, giving you the courage you need to not deny your deeper feelings. "shut up weasley."

george spins you to face him, your skirt flowing with the movement, the skirt that you definitely should not have worn tonight no matter how long it is. pressing your foreheads together he whispers, "i love you too. now lets get home before i freeze my bloody bullocks off."

you burst out laugh and bury your face in his neck, this time making him shiver at the touching contact. you don't think you've ever felt happier than right now, as the man you love loves you too.

you carry on your walk and swing your hands intertwined with his. "does that make me your girlfriend georgie?"

"merlin! it better be, six years is a long enough wait."